Under the Red Hood: the film versus the Batman comics

An adaptation written by the author of the original comic, and based on one of the most unique episodes in American publishing history. Decryption source by source, without disclosing the outcomes.

As in each article in this series, only verified information (creators, distribution, dates, publishers) is stated; the comparative analysis is ours, without reproducing dialogue or protected images.

1988: telephone voting

We have to start there, because it is the basis of the entire story. In 1988, DC published in Batman #426 to #429 an arc by Jim Starlin and Jim Aparo entitled A bereavement in the family, featuring Jason Todd, the second Robin. The character was unpopular with some of the readership, and the publisher made an unprecedented decision: he installed two premium rate telephone numbers and let readers vote on whether or not Jason Todd survives the events of the story.

The vote was close, and he decided in favor of death. The episode has remained one of the most commented on in American publishing history, for what it reveals about the relationship between an editor and his audience - and it has had a lasting impact on the character of Batman, whose failure becomes a permanent element of his characterization.

This context obviously does not appear in the film, and that is inevitable. But it constitutes a second occurrence of the phenomenon observed onFlashpoint: part of the weight of these pages comes from circumstances external to the story, and this part is not exported. A viewer from 2010 sees a drama; a reader in 1988 knew that he had been, collectively, the author.

2005: Judd Winick picks up the thread

Seventeen years later, Judd Winick builds an arc around the return of a masked character who takes control of Gotham's underworld instead of fighting it — a method that confronts Batman with his own limits. The identity of this Red Hood, gradually revealed, leads directly back to the 1988 drama.

The strength of the story lies in its argument. The new Red Hood doesn't blame Batman for not saving him; he reproaches him for letting the one who killed him live. It is a trial of consistency, and it is not easy to refute - which makes the final face-to-face much more interesting than an ordinary confrontation.

An adaptation written by the author of the comic

The 2010 film has a rare feature in this body of work: its screenplay is written by Judd Winick himself. This configuration explains the nature of the choices made, which are not external interpretations but authorial arbitrations on his own material.

The main one is fusion. The film opens with the 1988 drama, then moves on to the 2005 arc, bringing two stories separated by nearly twenty years into a continuous whole. It is an effective choice: the spectator receives the cause and the consequence in the same movement, where the reader had to know an old story to grasp the stakes of the recent one.

The second choice is the simplification of the mechanism explaining the character's return. In the comics, this return relies on complex continuity developments, linked to events occurring elsewhere in the catalog and involving cosmological concepts. The film discards most of this device in favor of a more concise explanation. This is the trade-off that almost any adaptation makes in the face of continuity – and it is assumed here by the person who wrote it.

The result is widely considered one of DC's best animated adaptations, and it illustrates a useful point: literal fidelity, as seen onYear One, is not the only way. An assumed recomposition can serve the source better than a transcription, provided that the argument is preserved.

The characters, from paper to screen

• Batman— Confronted with his oldest failure.
• The Red Hood— Whose identity is the mainspring of the story.
• The Joker— Responsible for the 1988 drama, present in both versions.
• Nightwing— The first Robin, whose role is tightened on screen.
• Black Mask— The leader of the underworld jostled by the newcomer.

Jim Starlin, Jim Aparo and the Batman of the late 1980s

A word about the authors of the ancient source, whose work is often overshadowed by the notoriety of telephone voting. Jim Starlin is one of the major screenwriters of his generation, best known for his cosmic work at the competing publisher, where he created figures who became central. His passage on Batman, darker and more frontal than the norm of the time, is part of the general darkening movement which follows the significant publications of 1986.

Jim Aparo is one of the most prolific Batman artists in the history of the character, with a career that spans several decades. His line, classic and very readable, belongs to a school prior to that which dominates at that time - which gives to A bereavement in the family a particular tension: a story of unusual brutality, drawn in a style inherited from the Silver Age.

This tension is absent from the film, which adopts a homogeneous aesthetic for its two sources. However, it constitutes one of the reasons for reading the original issues - and one of the rare cases in this corpus where the gap between content and form is part of the effect.

Why the dead come back, and what this changes for the reader

This title offers the opportunity to address a mechanism that every comic book reader ends up encountering, and which often confuses spectators coming from the cinema: in major American series, the death of a character is rarely definitive.

The reason is not lazy but structural. A monthly series published without interruption for decades, written by dozens of successive authors, cannot withdraw elements from its reservoir indefinitely: each disappearance impoverishes the material available for those who come after. An author arriving in 2005 inherits a character who died in 1988 and an untapped narrative potential — the temptation to recover it is strong, and it almost always ends up winning out.

The case of Jason Todd is exemplary because it shows both sides of the mechanism. On the one hand, the return retrospectively weakens the drama of 1988, which nevertheless had a particular value - the readers themselves had wanted it. On the other, it produces one of the best Batman arcs of the 2000s, precisely because it does not act as if nothing had happened: the character returns loaded with his grudge, and this grudge is the subject.

For the collector, this mechanism has a very concrete practical consequence. A first appearance number retains its value regardless of subsequent back and forths, but “death” numbers are significantly more fragile bets: their odds depend on a status that the publisher can undo at any time. The 1988 issues partly escape this rule due to their own notoriety – this is not the case for most of their equivalents.

Collection side: what numbers to aim for after the film

This title points to two distinct sets, and that's what makes his journey interesting.

The first is that of 1988.Batman #426 opens A bereavement in the family , And Batman #428 is the decisive number of the arc — the one towards which attention is traditionally directed. These are ordinary monthlies from the end of the 1980s, printed at high circulations but read and handled as such: the value depends almost entirely on the grade, and the high grade copies are much fewer in number than one would think. The episode's enduring notoriety supports continued demand, independent of adaptations.

The second is that of 2005.Batman #635 is the first issue of Judd Winick's arc, and the sought-after entry point to this modern set. His rating increased over the character's subsequent appearances, who has since become a recurring figure in the catalog. The following numbers of the arc are easily and cheaply found.

The collections, regularly republished for both stories, remain the economical way to read. As always, condition and gradation determine value; relying on real recent sales is strongly recommended.

Where to start reading

The chronological order is correct:Batman #426 (1988) then Batman #635(2005). This is also the order that the film reconstitutes, except that the reader will measure the gap of seventeen years between the two stories - a gap which constitutes part of the emotional charge of Winick's arc, and which the continuous sequence of the film necessarily flattens.

Timeline to know

• 1988— Batman #426-429: Telephone voting decides the fate of Jason Todd.
• 2005— Judd Winick launches the Under the Hood arc in Batman.
• 2010— The animated film, scripted by Winick himself.

Its place in the saga and for the collector

Under the Red Hood will remain as the demonstration that an adaptation can recompose its source without betraying it - provided that the argument is preserved, here a challenge for coherence addressed to Batman which is difficult to respond to. That the scenario is signed by the author of the comic is undoubtedly not unrelated. What the film could not carry was the context of 1988: a reader at the time knew that they had, collectively, decided what they read. For the collector, the title opens two distinct and complementary paths — Batman #426 and #428 for the ending Bronze Age, Batman #635 for the modern era.

The verdict: two comics merged, the argument preserved

• Loyalty: the 1988 drama, the identity of the Red Hood, his method, the reproach addressed to Batman and the final face-to-face come from the comics.
• Freedoms: two stories separated by seventeen years merged into one, the return mechanism simplified, the ramifications of continuity discarded, secondary characters removed - and the editorial context of 1988, absent by nature.
• Collectible numbers: Batman #426 and #428 (1988), Batman #635 (2005).

Under the Red Hood merges two stories seventeen years apart and preserves the essentials: a man criticizes Batman not for not having saved him, but for letting his murderer live. It is an assumed recomposition, signed by the author of the comic, and one of the most successful in this corpus. For the reader and the collector alike, it is an invitation to open Batman #426.

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