Try to guess what I hate the most about this Batman costume redesign from the pages of “Chain Gang War”:

Notice anything missing? How about the most recognizable super-hero logo on the planet. Imagine an iPod with no little apple on it, or a Nike sneaker without the swoosh. What’s the point of investing all that time and energy into making your brand instantly recognizable, only to leave it off the product? I know the temptation to tweak legendary characters is powerful, but this effort really blows it.

Besides the lack of a logo, the entire assemblage betrays the essence of Batman. He’s supposed to be about speed, agility, stealth, and lethal force delivered with precision, but this costume comes off as bulky and ponderous. From the rigid, hook-tipped wings with long flowing streamers, to the massive gloves and metal fingers (metal freaking fingers?!), this outfit looks like the worst parts of an Iron Man and Spawn love-child. There’s very little “Batman” in it, which may be why he’s reduced to standing on a giant Bat logo to remind himself of who the heck he’s supposed to be.

And just why the heck is Bruce Wayne getting all dressed up to watch TV anyway? You’d think he’d be comfortable enough to take off his mask and kick up his feet in the Batcave, but apparently not. I bet he goes through a lot of remotes, too, as those metallic fingers punch right through the plastic buttons. I also wonder if he required the leg pouches to offset his utility belt’s lack of a cinch, buckle, or any other method for actually hooking together. At least he was able to get it in the extra-thick ‘Image’ size.

I could go on and on about the yellow banded armor under the thick cape front, or the strange blank yellow hole on the chest piece, or the silly fringe on the boots, or the bizarre energy blasters on the gauntlet, or the lack of a mouth-hole in the mask, or the tiny “Catman” style ears, but suffice it to say, I hate this redesign.

In the history of bad super-hero costumes, I think the Joel Schumacher Batman and Robin Nipple designs have to take home the Oscar (pardon the pun). His fetishistic take on these iconic figures put a stake in the heart of the movie franchise, which made this product tie-in ad I found in one of the Great Random Comics Pile just about perfect:

Batman’s glare seems to be saying “Yes, I’m being called a fruit right here on this box, and because I have been given nipple armor (not shown), I am powerless to react. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And Robin, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, get your left hand away from there!”

If “Hypno-Hustler” isn’t actually related to either “Disco Stu” from “The Simpsons” or “The Dazzler”, he at least goes to the same tailor:

My favorite part of his costume is the big pink guitar. Because nothing says “Dangerous Villain” like Fender’s “My Little Pony” series of musical instruments.

(Image ©2006, Marvel Publishing, Inc., from “Marvel Legacy: The 1970’s Handbook”.)

I’m not going to claim that Jack Kirby got his ideas by looking at stuff on his desk, or from the remains of his hastily-heated discount noodle lunch. But I do wonder how much of his time was spent at bad steak joints while coming up with his scripts, because this:

Is “Sizzler”. Yes, that’s right, this electrically-charged flying slab of grill grease is named after a nationwide purveyor of seared cow flesh. Luckily, he’s a villain. Hopefully after his thrashing at the hands of Silver Star he can get back to home base, the “Sirloin Stockade”, and kick it old-school with his sidekick Shoney Big-Boy.

I can’t get that scene from “White Men Can’t Jump” out of my head, when Wesley Snipe’s idiot friend keeps chanting “We goin’ Sizzler, we goin’ Sizzler!” after they win some money. This is a good case of a pretty decent looking character betrayed by a lame name. Would “Rocky” have been successful with the same script and actors if it were titled “Jackrabbit P. Fusslepott”? Certainly not!

And so Sizzler, despite springing from the pen of the great Jack Kirby, I mock thee.

Considering the carnivorous-bikini-wearing tousle-haired no-toed blond apparently grooving to her own crazy beat; the crouching, leering, perverted toad behind the man with the silly frilly cape; the half-naked muscle-bound oaf at the rear; the pink and orange-wearing lecherous mariachi player; and the nudist glowing girl just off-panel to the left, I wouldn’t blame you for suspecting that this is actually some sort of super-villain swinger’s club. Can Lube-Lad be far away? The room is literally packed with super-villains, all of whom are gathered to plan Silver Star’s defeat, but I’m pretty sure that’s just an excuse for them all to get funky.

Regardless, if the man in red and blue is indeed the Emcee as his letter logos would have you believe, there’s no way this party is going to rock. No one with that kind of massive upper-body musculature who would wear a butt-length cape like that can possibly have anything but disco in their music collection, and even Dr. Lightning Arrow Fellow behind him is turning away in disgust. And when you’ve lost the Shaft Master, you’ve really lost your groove, baby.

Not to mention how bad the guitar playing from our masked color-blind minstrel must be. Honestly, if you can’t tell that pink bows clash with orange frilly lace piping, you have no chance of making it in the gay musical villain business. I would bet his only real super-power is Sartorial Suckage, striking disgust in the heart of the fashionable. Throw in the fact that even if you score in this crazy villain sex-club hangout, the woman will eat your “sidekick” with her drooling demon facegina, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for night club disaster, my friend.

No wonder most super-villains work alone.

(Image and characterfrom “Silver Star”, No. 1, ©1993, Jack Kirby.)