Frank Miller’s Robocop

story by Frank Miller; sequential adaptation by Steven Grant; art by Juan Jose Ryp

Published by Avatar Press. Originally published as Robocop #1-9. Cover price $29.99.

Frank Miller is probably the biggest name in comics-to-film adaptations. Sin City and 300 were both big hits, and now Ronin is on its way. But way back in the 1980s, Frank Miller took on the writing duties on Robocop. Word is that the version that hit the screen was a far cry from what Miller originally penned, so this series set out to present the definitive version.

While not directly written by Frank Miller, this series was adapted from Frank Miller’s script for the Robocop film by Steven Grant. I’ve never seen the film, nor have I read Miller’s original script, so I have no idea what aspects of this book differ, what is taken from the film, and what was preserved from Miller’s original concept. What I do know is that Robocop (the comic) has all the traditional Frank Miller characteristics – gratuitous violence, caricatured media pundits, bloodthirsty governments, attempted political allegories, and even a lesson on the battle of Thermopylae.

I have to admit a bias going into the reading of this book: I wanted to like it. I was grateful that the good folks at Avatar Press sent a promo copy to review, and that soft, human part of me wants to reward people for their generosity and cooperation. So keep that in mind as you read this review.

The Plot
In the future, Detroit (and presumably the rest of society as we know it) has deteroirated to a hopelessly classist society in which the rich have gutted government to be nothing more than their property enforcement division and the poor are left to be stomped on, marketed to and disposed of. The Detroit police department goes on essentially a forced strike, allowing the corrupt government to usher in the mercenary protective forces of Omni Consumer Products – a megaconglomerate with its hands in virtually every aspect of commercial society, including weapons manufacturing. The lack of any real police leads to chaos on the streets of Detroit, but a law enforcing cyborg has no need for pensions or holiday pay. Robocop is the people’s hero, giving the downtrodden a tiny bit of hope in the system, and the corrupt forces seeking to reshape society for their own profits need to eliminate him.

The Positives
As with any attempt at political symbolism, illustrating the extremes can help shed some light on our current situation. When reading about Omni Consumer Products, I couldn’t help but think about organizations like Halliburton and Blackwater – private for-profit organizations moving in on areas that used to be served by the public with no codes or regulations governing them. It’s not a far stretch to imagine cities outsourcing their police forces when the US government has outsourced so much of its military. And one has to simply look at the news to see how those who attempt to infringe upon the growth of the military industrial complex are dealt with.

The Negatives
Commenting on said MIC is hardly where this book tries to stop reaching. In fact, the sprawl of commercialized fascism doesn’t even really seem to be a target here. Rather, it’s the caricaturized version of liberalism that one hears about on Rush Limbaugh that’s lampooned here. Robocop’s big internal struggle comes when pop psychiatrist Margaret Love – former anti-violence activist turned OCP employee – reprograms him to follow directives like spreading positivity, promoting pro-social values, and telling a potty-mouthed kid “Bad words make for bad feelings.” It might be effective commentary if it weren’t lampooning such an unrealistic straw man. All the other struggles are dealt with via guns.

What is billed as “dark comedy” results in things like the donut shop being the safest place in town (because that’s where all the on-strike cops are – is there an easier joke?) and over-the-top TV commercial interludes ridiculing the shallowness of a society that buys sex and violence to such a degree that its absurd proportions expose the desensitization of the audience. Yet, while the story attempts to criticize such a sex-and-violence crazed society through parody, it is an orgy of grotesque violence (fingers flying through the air, flesh peeling off bodies, etc) and sexuality (Love likes to wear short-skirts and suit jackets with nothing but her heaving breasts showing beneath, while Officer Lewis – the object of mercenaries’ desire and Robocop’s little female buddy – can’t help but have her clothes ripped and burned to shreds in each fight scene, constantly leaving her in nothing but bra, panties and fragments of what were once her overgarments; funny how all the guys’ clothes stay in place).

One might argue that it’s being ironic, or perhaps making the claim that, in spite of our society’s enlightenment to such vices, we still eat it up. That might work, if the book weren’t trying so hard – and failing – to make deeper points. This is just explosions, gunfights, fire, flying body parts, large breasts, long legs, and Penthouse poses masquerading as satire.

And I haven’t even gotten to the art. In a purely aesthetic way, the art is pleasing. It’s very detailed, it’s very colorful, and it’s very dynamic. But it’s miserable for storytelling. The only blacks you’ll see on the page are the fine lines, and every patch of color is a gradient. As a result, it’s downright confusing at times to tell where you’re supposed to look and what you’re even looking at. Inkers use black and colorists use varying techniques of filling spaces to denote textures and direct your eye. I don’t know the people who illustrated this book so I can’t get in their heads, but it just looks like the work of people who are remarkably technically proficient yet lacking in the philosophy of storytelling department. The storytelling is so lacking that arrows are often employed to tell the reader which panel to look at next!

The final fight was so hard to navigate that I’m not really even sure what happened. There were lots of explosions and fire bursts, though.

Overall: D
Like I said before, I wanted to like this book, and at first, I really did. It was a quick read (probably too quick for its steep $29.95 paperback cover price), and I was enjoying the first few chapters (it started out reminding me a lot of The Dark Knight Returns), but by the time Robocop got “reprogrammed” and it became apparent what the political message was, it lost its charm. Had the humor not fallen flat, had there been some action that wasn’t always cranked up to 11, and had the agenda been a little less heavy-handed, it might have worked. There are definitely some interesting plot elements, and the subtle bit of news copy at the end revealed a cynical admission that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

If you’re a Frank Miller completist, a fan of lackluster political allegories told through sci-fi police dramas, or perhaps just a fan of explosions and gunfire, or even a fan of lots of large breasts with no actual nudity, this is the book for you. If you don’t fall into any of those categories, though, I’d have a tough time recommending it.