Because sometimes life gets in the way.

Because sometimes life gets in the way.

Your monthly reminder that comics can be awesome…



Damn it, I’ve only just found out… One of the greatest Batman artists of all time died last Monday.
One day, Gotham Calling will look closely into Norm Breyfogle’s fluid designs and dynamic storytelling. Until then, I leave you with this splash page featuring some of his most memorable creations:

A while ago, reader Dave Shevlin wrote to me about his latest project of picking somewhere around 30 or so of his favorite Bat-centric tales for an imaginary deluxe volume and challenged me to do the same. The idea would be to choose, not all-time classics like The Dark Knight Returns and Year One, but personal favorite issues that could be put into a big tome of must-have Bat-comics. Obviously, this appealed to me, but I immediately got stuck wondering what classics I could leave out in order to make room for my more peripheral or obscure choices… With that in mind, I ended up preparing a list of works I expect every Batman fan is bound to read (or at least be aware of) regardless of my recommendation, which I can therefore refrain from including in my ideal anthology (even if I think they’re really good).
I will tell you about my final picks next month, but for now I’ll leave you with this preliminary selection of seminal stories that are easy to find (they’ve all been collected multiple times) and should be required reading for any fan. These are comics that profoundly shaped the Caped Crusader and his world – they’re super-influential tales that subsequent creators kept riffing on, referencing, or somehow paying homage to… Reading them means understanding much of the historical evolution and intertextual subtext of the books that followed. Yes, they’re already so well-known and regarded that I wouldn’t include them in my imaginary deluxe volume, but perhaps they’re worth listing for the checklists of new fans:
1.‘The Case of the Chemical Syndicate’ (Detective Comics #27, cover-dated May 1939), by Bill Finger (script), Bob Kane (art & letters)

The story that set the stage for everything to come. I’ve wrote a bit about how this tale has been remade throughout the decades here, including the following summary: ‘Originally published in 1939, the six-page ‘The Case of the Chemical Syndicate’ (Detective Comics #27), by Bob Kane and an uncredited Bill Finger, was the first comic to feature Batman (or the Bat-Man, as he was called at the time). The plot is a modest, no-frills whodunit – swiped from a Shadow short story – about the murder of a chemical industrialist called Lambert. Neatly, the Dark Knight shows off what would become his trademarks: he punches crooks (three times), escapes from a deathtrap (a gas chamber for guinea pigs), and deduces the solution to the mystery. There are some rough edges, for sure, but I love the fact that the very final twist is the revelation that the Bat-Man is actually the rich socialite Bruce Wayne! (Sorry for the mega-spoiler.)’
2. ‘The Origin of the Batman!’ (Batman #47, cover-dated June-July 1948), by Bill Finger (script), Bob Kane (pencils), Charles Paris (inks), Ira Schnapp (letters)

This is one of the most important retellings of Batman’s origin, establishing for the first time the identity of the Waynes’ killer. It also works as an example of the film noir-tinged sensibility of the character’s Golden Age, since it’s a proper crime yarn filled with murder, action (including a dynamic fight at a gambling ship), and an ironic ending. (The final confrontation with Joe Chill was later beautifully redone in The Untold Legend of the Batman #1, which is highly recommended for anyone seeking a crash course on the Dark Knight’s history, even if it isn’t as essential a reading as the comics on this list.)
3.‘The First Batman’ (Detective Comics #235, September 1956), by Bill Finger (script), Sheldon Moldoff [as Bob Kane] (pencils), Stan Kaye (inks)

This story not only introduced the idea that Thomas Wayne had once wore a Batman suit of sorts (subconsciously influencing Bruce), but – building directly on ‘The Origin of the Batman!’ – it also added further details about the Waynes’ murder, revising key elements of that fateful night. I usually dislike tales that take an origin as simple and effective as the Batman’s (especially the bit about him being the product of a *random* crime by a small-time crook) and turn them into something needlessly convoluted (there is even an amnesia subplot!), but this one has charm to spare and it did add elements to the mythos that stayed around for years. (In 2010, the Brave and the Bold cartoon show did an awesome episode called ‘Chill of the Night,’ which combined bits from ‘The Origin of the Batman’ and ‘The First Batman’ into a modern retelling that featured a truly hardboiled scene with Lew Moxon’s deathbed confession, a faustian/cosmic contest between the Spectre and the Phantom Stranger, amusing cameos by the rogues’ gallery, and the scariest sounding Dark Knight in living memory.)
4.‘Robin Dies at Dawn’ (Batman #156, cover-dated June 1963), by Bill Finger (script), Sheldon Moldoff [as Bob Kane] (pencils), Charles Paris (inks), Stan Starkman (letters)

Another gem by Bill Finger and Sheldon Moldoff (ghosting for Bob Kane). A high point of Silver Age sci-fi weirdness (the first part of the story takes place on an alien planet with bizarre creatures and psychedelic colors), nowadays ‘Robin Dies at Dawn’ (like the similarly trippy ‘Batman – the Superman of Planet X!’) is perhaps mostly known for its role as a major inspiration for Grant Morrison’s Batman run. However, this kooky tale – in which the Caped Crusader keeps hallucinating about the Boy Wonder’s death while fighting the Gorilla Gang – already had a cult following before that, not least because of the whole metafictional angle of Batman feeling that he is being watched by ‘eyes with human intelligence.’ (Appropriately for a comic with such an unsettling vibe, it shares some of its premise with the pilot episode of The Twilight Zone.)
5.‘Ra’s al Ghul saga’ (Detective Comics #411, Batman #232, Batman #242-244, cover-dated May 1971-September 1972), by Denny O’Neil (script), Bob Brown, Neal Adams, Irv Novick (pencils), Dick Giordano (inks), Ben Oda, John Costanza, Ray Holloway, Jean Izzo (letters)

The quintessential Bronze Age Batman story – a hell-for-leather epic that throws the Dark Knight (meanwhile redesigned by Neal Adams) into the globetrotting thrills of a vintage James Bond flick while introducing two of his greatest supporting characters: Talia and Ra’s Ghul. There are a handful of comics that could be seen as part of the saga, but Detective Comics #411, Batman #232, and the trilogy Batman #242-244 are the ones later creators keep going back to. I wrote about them here, including the following lines about the earlier issues: ‘We are definitely in grand adventure territory here. Accepting the genre’s inherent orientalism, [Denny] O’Neil combined different cultures with gusto in order to provide an out-of-this-world sense of exotic excitement: the tale takes place in an unidentified Far East country (‘a tiny Asian nation tucked into the mountains between two hostile super-powers’); we are told Ra’s al Ghul is Arabic for ‘The Demon’s Head;’ a plot point involves arms deals in South America; and in a great sequence Batman literally has to bullfight for his life. O’Neil followed this with Batman #232, where the Caped Crusader wrestles a leopard in Calcutta and climbs one of the Himalayan Mountains, under fire.’
6.’The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge!’ (Batman #251, cover-dated September 1973), by Denny O’Neil (script), Neal Adams (art)

Besides the Ra’s al Ghul saga, the duo of Denny O’Neil and Neal Adams did several other stories together that can be considered classics (‘The Secret of the Waiting Graves,’ ‘Ghost of the Killer Skies,’ ‘A Vow from the Grave,’ ‘Half an Evil,’ ‘Night of the Reaper’), but none as influential as ‘The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge!’ This tale revamped the Clown Prince of Crime, taking him back to his murderous roots (after having been softened for almost two decades because of the Comics Code) while updating his look and style – it effectively kickstarted a version of the Joker that would linger for many years to come. The issue features two of Adams’ most famous splash pages: the opening one, with the Joker laughing behind the wheel of a car, and the one near the end, with the Caped Crusader running purposefully on the sand. Likewise, the deathtrap at the aquarium and Batman’s subsequent fight against a shark – probably a rebuttal of the infamous Shark Repellent Spray joke from the 1966 Batman movie – is fondly remembered and occasionally revisited (1994’s Mad Love has quite a fun variation of it).
7.‘There is No Hope in Crime Alley!’ (Detective Comics #457, cover-dated March 1976), by Denny O’Neil (script), Dick Giordano (art), Terry Austin (backgrounds), Ben Oda (letters)

The tale that established the place where the Waynes were shot (Park Row, now known as Crime Alley) and introduced Bruce’s ersatz-mother figure, Leslie Thompkins. Besides representing all that’s worth saving in Gotham City (‘Maybe the only hope our tormented civilization has left!’), Thompkins is a nice counterpoint to the Dark Knight, trying to achieve the same goal as him with pacifist methods. In that sense, this issue paved the way for all those later explorations of Batman’s morals and methods, challenging him in his own series (O’Neil had already tried a similar thing in ‘The Batman’s Burden,’ but that story didn’t leave much of a mark). All in all, ‘There is No Hope in Crime Alley!’ may be a bit schmaltzy and it’s set during an odd time when Alfred wasn’t aware of the Waynes’ murder date (because his pre-Crisis version only met Bruce as an adult), but the ending feels genuinely tender and many of its classic lines have been echoing through Batman comics ever since.
8.‘Strange Apparitions’ (Detective Comics #469-476, cover-dated May 1977-April 1978), by Steve Englehart (script), Walt Simonson, Marshall Rogers (pencils), Al Milgrom, Terry Austin (inks), Jerry Serpe, Glynis Wein (colors), Ben Oda, John Worman, Milt Snappin (letters)

Steve Englehart’s fan-favorite run in Detective Comics (especially the issues pencilled by the incredible Marshall Rogers, #471-476) excelled at drawing from Batman’s past while delivering something that felt fresh and modern. In that sense, it wasn’t just these comics’ characterization, designs, and story ideas that proved highly influential, but their whole attitude (especially when it came to the 1990s’ Batman: The Animated Series). The run works as a cohesive whole due to the overarching subplots about mad scientist Hugo Strange, political boss Rupert Thorne, and Bruce’s love interest Silver St. Cloud, even if it contains different stories within it, including the two-parter ‘The Laughing Fish!/Sign of the Joker!’ (one of the most emblematic stories ever told about the Clown Prince of Crime). I’ve written about this run here and you can find more praise for it here.
9.‘Death Strikes at Midnight and Three’ (DC Special Series #15, cover-dated Summer 1978), by Denny O’Neil (script), Marshall Rogers (art)

Yes, it’s another script by Denny O’Neil and another art job by Marshall Rogers, but ‘Death Strikes at Midnight and Three’ is a completely different beast from what came before. This taut, gritty short story pushes Batman’s crime fiction angle as far it can go, to the point of practically becoming an illustrated prose piece reminiscent of old pulps (and a damn fine one at that). Everyone who subsequently tried to experiment with the Dark Knight’s ties to noirish literature did so under the shadow of this comic.
10.‘The Dark Knight Returns’ (The Dark Knight, cover-dated 1986), by Frank Miller (script and pencils), Klaus Janson (inks), Lynn Varley (colors), John Costanza (letters)


The one book that’s required reading not just for Batman fans, but for any fan of the superhero genre (or for anyone interested in the history of mainstream comics). Frank Miller blew everyone away with his formally innovative and politically charged tale about an older Batman coming out of retirement in a near-future that looked like a grim extension of Reagan-era Cold War. The powerful impact of The Dark Knight Returns (especially of the climactic face-offs with the Joker and Superman) can still be felt today, in both comics and superhero movies. I wrote about it here and Geoff Klock did a poignant analysis of DKR’s revisionary contribution in his fascinating book How to Read Superhero Comics and Why, including the following passage: ‘Miller has often stated that the only thing contemporary comics have learned from The Dark Knight Returns is the extreme level of violence it presents. His own work is not so much violent as it is more graphic and more realistic about the violence that has always inhabited superhero narratives. With The Dark Knight Returns, the reader is forced to confront what has been going on for years between the panels. Miller’s realism operates as a kind of commentary on a genre that has treated its inherent violence with kid gloves. Take, for example, the fact that Batman has in the course of his history gotten into many fights in which he is outnumbered and his opponents are armed with guns. Using only a Batarang and his fists, Batman manages to defeat them all without breaking a sweat. Miller never treats his hero so gently – his Batman is almost always wounded, sometimes badly, and the Batarang is reconceived as a kind of bat-shaped throwing star that disarms by slicing into the forearm, rather than its former, sillier portrayal as a boomerang that disarms criminals by knocking weapons out of their hands. The strength of Miller’s portrayal leaves readers with the impression that all of Batman’s fights must have been of this kind, but that they have been reading a watered-down version of the way things ‘really happened.’’
Honorable mentions (pre-Crisis): Although not as iconic as these tales, other first appearances are worth noting, such as those of Robin/Dick Grayson (Detective Comics #38, April 1940), the Joker (Batman #1, June 1940), Two-Face (Detective Comics #66, August 1942), the Riddler (Detective Comics #140, October 1948), Bat-Mite (Detective Comics #267, May 1959), Poison Ivy (Batman #181, June 1966), and Batgirl/Barbara Gordon (Detective Comics #359, January 1967). The origin tales ‘The Secret Life of Catwoman’ (Batman #62, December 1950-January 1951) and ‘The Man Behind the Red Hood’ (Detective Comics #168, February 1951) are minor classics as well.
NEXT: More essential comics.
Tomorrow is Gotham Calling’s fourth anniversary. I usually mark these occasions with a compilation of kicks in the head (accompanied by exciting, onomatopoeic sound effects). However, this year I’ve decided to celebrate another longstanding tradition of Batman comics, namely the Caped Crusader’s habit of surprising his foes with sudden entrances that involve breaking a lot of glass.
Whether crashing through a window or through a glass ceiling, this trope has been reinterpreted throughout the ages, with artists coming up with various dynamic angles (although often going for the same ways of depicting broken shards). Moreover, even when Batman doesn’t supplement his theatrical entrance with a badass one-liner, these moments are often a treat due to the villains’ astonished reactions.
Enjoy these fifty glorious examples:





















Shadow of the Bat #13



























By the way, the Dark Knight clearly taught this trick to his sidekicks:

NEXT: Essential Batman comics.
Your Steptember reminder that comics can be awesome…



NEXT: Batman breaks the glass ceiling.

The last post was all about my love for the classic Mission: Impossible TV series. But what about the recent movie franchise? Well, that’s a whole other beast.
Sure, there are superficial connections, the most obvious ones being the catchy music, the maze-like plots, and the use of face masks. Both incarnations feature a fair amount of visual storytelling and both definitely owe a lot to Alfred Hitchcock and Jules Dassin. They also employ their era’s equivalent of high tech (when the agents played by Emilio Estevez or Simon Pegg hack into elevator systems, it does come across like a logical update of the trick used in the neat episode ‘The Double Circle’). Above all, the two series mostly see in the spy genre a pretext to do heist-based thrillers.
Nevertheless, ultimately the film series operates with a very different spirit from the show. The TV stories relied less on frenetic action than on deliberately paced psychological strategies and intricate sting operations (most of the gunshots took place off-screen, usually at the end, as the IMF agents walked away after having conned their targets into killing each other). Conversely, the films keep moving from one spectacular set piece to the next, laying increasing emphasis on Tom Cruise’s stunts. Moreover, while much of the show’s appeal was to watch a team of super-competent professionals coldly doing their jobs with clockwork precision, the film series revolves around a single protagonist – Ethan Hunt – with a chip on his shoulder. If the former went about rescuing dissidents, toppling dictators, and framing mobsters without ever questioning their missions, the latter tends to save the world from mass destruction and, more often than not, ends up fighting his own organization…
At its best, the new approach reflects a post-Watergate, post-Cold War order without a well-defined enemy, where an US agent is never entirely sure who he is working for and if he can trust his own government (which may have been infiltrated or perhaps was just evil all along). At its worst, the whole thing feels too much like a set of Cruise-centric vanity projects (just look at the posters below!). Initially, the result was so removed from the original concept that the only reason to keep the same title appeared to be cynical branding.
The truth is that, for all its Rube Goldberg-like schemes and games of cat-and-mouse, there was still something ‘adult’ and sophisticated about the TV series, whereas the films trade mostly in juvenile thrills. In that sense, you can find much worthier successors to the 60s’ show in David Mamet’s con movies (especially House of Games and The Spanish Prisoner) or in John McTiernan’s remake of The Thomas Crown Affair. And yet, the M:I flicks are not without their merits…

Kicking things off in 1996, the first film, directed by Brian De Palma, already departed from the show’s format by focusing on an agent going rogue and working on his own to clear his name. Still, there were nods to the original: the film opened with what looked like the ending of a typical M:I episode and went on to revisit trademark moments like the bombastic credits, the debriefing tape scene, and the bit with the team laying out their plans. There was also the Rififi-like heist sequence at Langley, which became instantly iconic and set the standard for the sequels. Then again, Jim Phelp’s arc would’ve had much more impact if he had actually been played by Peter Graves…
The second installment went not only with another Hitchcock-influenced director (John Woo), but also with a Hitchcock-influenced plot (it’s been called a loose remake of Notorious, with yet another rogue IMF agent in the Claude Rains role). Regardless, what we ended up with was a cartoonish action movie that was even further away from the original series – instead of smart, committed heroes and villains, the whole thing was full of cardboard characters trying to sound bright but not quite pulling it off. The only way to appreciate it was as a schlocky popcorn blockbuster – leave your brain at the door and just enjoy that kickass final chase scene with Cruise shooting up goons on a high-speed motorbike!
By the time Mission: Impossible III hit the screens, in 2006, you knew what to expect – nothing too brainy, just a stylish shot of adrenaline, and boy did it deliver. After all, unpretentious entertainment bursting with slick, rip-roaring adventure is J.J. Abrams’ specialty! Still, I suppose this was the entry that elevated the constant betrayals and layers upon layers of deception from mere plot mechanics into the series’ thematic identity. You also got sharper dialogue and more of a heart, including some well-handled family drama, as Ethan Hunt was now retired and engaged… For once, the biggest departure from the show wasn’t a descent into basic caricature, but a willingness to invest some of the cast with a bit more depth and humanity (relatively speaking, of course). Plus, it helped that the main villain was played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman in a typical knockout performance (well, two performances).

2011’s Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol was more of the same, in the best possible sense. It provided the by-now-customary twists and turns of the plot without taking itself too seriously (yep, Hunt was disavowed once again) and it definitely delivered on the spectacular stunts front. Director Brad Bird brought to the proceedings the manic energy and visual awe from his previous work in animation (The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, Ratatouille). The Dubai sequence, with Tom Cruise climbing the Burj Khalifa, was especially breathtaking! As a bonus, the whole bit in which the IMF team intercepts a transaction by simultaneously tricking the two sides in nearby hotel rooms does seem like a scheme straight out of the old M:I show (it also brings to mind Johnnie To’s Drug War, which came out in the following year). Meanwhile, Ethan Hunt grew into this ultra-resourceful powerhouse who is always the most outrageously skilled guy in the room (he is basically Cruise’s version of Batman).
Christopher McQuarrie then took the helm of the series, writing and directing 2015’s Rogue Nation, which picked up shortly after the dénouement of the previous installment and built up on the new status quo, pitting the disbanded members of the IMF against the powerful Syndicate (which is no longer the mob from the TV show, but a whole network of rogue agents). In other words, if Ghost Protocol – with its globetrotting exoticism, inventive gadgets, and consistently comedic tone – was like watching a (less sexist) vintage James Bond flick, then Rogue Nation was M:I’s Quantum of Solace. (This isn’t a bad thing: I’ve come around on Quantum of Solace, which may not be the flashy, lighthearted froth most people expect from a Bond picture, but it’s a damn good action yarn and a treat for those who enjoy a more ruthless depiction of 007 – the kind you also find in the comics of Warren Ellis and Andy Diggle.) McQuarrie confidently hit all the beats with a straight face yet enough self-awareness to toy with how over-the-top the franchise had become… At one point, Alec Baldwin actually described Cruise’s character by saying: ‘Hunt is the living manifestation of destiny!’ Plus, we got yet another Hitchcock riff in the form of a cool set piece at a Vienna opera house, which was an obvious nod to the climax of The Man Who Knew Too Much.
With Fallout, Christopher McQuarrie continues to turn the series into a more streamlined ongoing saga. This is a hardcore, straight-up sequel to Rogue Nation, including callbacks to all of the previous movies. McQuarrie lacks the panache of the earlier directors, but he knows what he’s doing… The first half feels the closest to the old show, with a puzzle-like plot (about McGuffin-esque plutonium cores) steeped in subterfuge, misdirection, and a fair amount of on-the-ground improvisation. Yet you also get the film series’ motifs: extended action scenes in famous locations, political uncertainty (the villains are a diffuse coalition of terrorists, anarchists, and spies), and a bunch of monologues in which characters comment on how awesome Cruise/Hunt is. There are some timely elements as well – on the one hand, Fallout tries to present the Washington-backed IMF as the heroes by making them a more ingenious and humane alternative to the callous, torture-friendly, collateral-damage-prone CIA; on the other hand, the recurrent assortment of disguises, triple agents, and confusing shadow organizations within shadow organizations seems right at home in the post-truth era of fake news and widespread conspiracy theories.
That said, if you’re looking for sheer excitement and tension, I would still recommend tracking down badass episodes of the original TV series, like ‘Memory,’ ‘The Mercenaries,’ ‘The Exchange,’ ‘Terror,’ and ‘Bag Woman.’
After a whole month looking at spy fiction, it’s only fair I give you my take on the latest summer blockbuster, the spy thriller Mission: Impossible – Fallout. I’ll do that in the next post, though. First, some words about the television show that inspired this movie franchise, which first aired on CBS all the way back in 1966…

It’s no secret that the ‘60s produced some of the coolest spy shows in TV history. Me, I have quite the soft spot for the noirish Hong Kong, but my favorite has got to be Mission: Impossible, the Bruce Geller-created series about an undercover organization pulling off risky, ultra-complicated assignments for the US government. They’re called the Impossible Missions Force, aka IMF, but unlike the other IMF (International Monetary Fund) they actually know what they are doing!
I see what may put some people off: the labyrinthine plots occasionally stretch viewers’ suspension of disbelief (at least if you think about them too hard) and the ironclad formula can get tiresome… With a few exceptions, each episode focuses on a different, autonomous mission, starting with a debriefing scene and ending with the successful completion of the assignment, so you can argue that there is never any real suspense about the outcome. Plus, since the agents’ personalities are kept to a minimum, the emotional stakes aren’t too high either. That said, there are still many layers of enjoyment to get from this show…
First of all, despite being firmly set in the world of espionage, the series essentially revolved around heists and cons. More than any other of the early episodes, ‘Operation Rogosh’ set the tone and firmly established M:I’s main appeal: to watch a group of grifters pull off imaginative, ambitious scams on foreign operatives and domestic criminals. The ruses often involved surreptitious break-ins (in ‘The Traitor,’ the IMF even recruited a contortionist, played by future Catwoman Eartha Kitt), stealing McGuffins, and all sorts of switcheroos. In other words, the stories were all capers at heart, even if sometimes spliced with other genres’ DNA (‘Trek’ has a spaghetti western vibe, ‘Zubrovnik’s Ghost’ is shot like classic horror, the two-parter ‘The Council’ at times feels like a gritty crime flick).
It’s a show about tradecraft. The point is not whether or not the IMF team will succeed, but how. Basically, you spend half the time trying to figure out their plan as it unfolds and then, when it hits a snag, you see them improvise a way to get things back on track. The big payoff usually comes in the form of ‘oh shit’ moments as the villains/marks realize they’ve been played – that there was no earthquake (‘The Survivors’) or they were not underwater (‘Submarine’) or in 1937 (‘Encore’) after all.

36 Hours, The Ipcress File, Topkapi, Alfred Hitchcock’s spy thrillers… the series’ influences shine through not just in terms of the type of left turns and cliffhangers it deploys, but in terms of style. Mission: Impossible (particularly the episodes directed by Leonard J. Horn) gets a lot of mileage out of offbeat camera angles, tense close-ups, and rhythmic jump cuts, not to mention Lalo Schifrin’s unforgettable soundtrack. In turn, the show probably inspired later films such as George Roy Hill’s The Sting, Spike Lee’s Inside Man, and Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s trilogy.
Speaking of films, although M:I can be seen as part of the tsunami of audiovisual spy fiction that followed the success of the first James Bond pictures, the show is definitely doing its own thing. It’s interested in straight-faced, cool-headed team work, not in a promiscuous, trigger-happy lone hero with licence to kill, a twinkle in his eye, and a quip for every occasion. Sci-fi gadgets, explosions, honey traps – those sometimes show up, but they’re hardly the norm. The biggest thrills take the form of carefully executed sleights of hand rather than wild action set pieces.
So yes, the whole thing is plot-driven and a bit cerebral. We know so little about the heroes that we are forced to focus on the missions themselves. The best writers (William Read Woodfields and Allan Balter) knew this, making sure that there was always at least one inventive concept to make each episode stand out, even when adhering to the policy of minimalist characterization. Every once in a while, you do get a small tweak to the pattern – by having one of the stars taken prisoner (including in the awesome ‘The Town’) or fall in love and jeopardize the mission (my favorite of this subgenre is ‘The Short Tail Spy’) – but those are minor exceptions. As a rule, then, why should we care about the characters?
One reason is how engaging the main cast can be as they smoothly shift from one fake identity to the next and then back to the concentrated expression of a specialist at work. While the IMF agents are ultimately interchangeable, it’s hard to deny the show hit a sweet spot in seasons 2 and 3, when Jim Phelps (Peter Graves) had already replaced the uncharismatic Dan Briggs (Steven Hill) as team leader yet the power trio of makeup artist/illusionist Rollin Hand (Martin Landau), versatile actress Cinnamon Carter (Barbara Bain), and tech wizard Barney Collier (Greg Morris) were all still around. By contrast, the last couple of seasons – 6 and 7 – were certainly the weakest in terms of acting (as well as in terms of scripts).
The other reason is the team’s adversaries. Sure, most villains weren’t too complex, either – they were given only enough psychological depth to enable them to go through the IMF’s sadistic traps and mind games (with the odd episode investing them with more nuanced motivations, like in ‘The Photographer’). However, they all had an arc and, for every guest actor who chewed the scenery, you had someone bringing in their A-game. Plus, they tended to be not only vain (the reason for their fall), but also quite cunning (making them a threat to the team’s plan), which was a joy to watch.
Again, this isn’t Bond’s fantasy world: rather than over-the-top rogues with goofy henchmen, we are mostly treated to petty, embittered bureaucrats and autocrats who’ll settle for much less than world domination. That said, some of the strongest episodes feature outstanding opponents who really push the IMF, like the brilliant investigator in ‘The Mind of Stefan Miklos’ (who seems like the other side’s equivalent of Jim Phelps) and the unpredictable hitman in ‘The Killer’ (who has no MO, choosing his methods at random and at the last minute, making his moves impossible to anticipate). Then again, ‘The Amateur’ entertainingly goes in the opposite direction, with a villain who is actually a nobody that just happens to cross paths with the IMF by accident (one of a handful of sleazy roles played by Anthony Zerbe).

Another thing that captivates me is the series’ approach to the Cold War. In Mission: Impossible, most countries were either fictitious or unidentified, the USSR was referenced trough euphemisms (the opposition, the enemy), and during assignments abroad the actors feigned a loose foreign accent, so you didn’t really know which language they were supposed to be speaking. There were all these fuzzy locations beyond the ‘iron curtain’ with gibberish street signs and characters with generic, Eastern European-sounding names who called each other ‘comrade,’ but communism itself was rarely more than hinted at (as opposed to fascism, which was discussed quite explicitly in the excellent ‘The Legend’). At the end of the day, IMF missions were just about moving geopolitical chess pieces in order to secure US interests. What you were left with was the Cold War at its most abstract, as pure game theory removed from ideology and contextual specificities…
(In ‘Invasion,’ we do get a bleak glimpse at the annexation of the US by the European People’s Republic, but the focus is exclusively on a military tribunal, telling us nothing about the rest of society. In any case, it’s all an IMF simulation in order to trick a double agent, so, while the ensuing dystopia can be taken as a reflection of how the team envisioned their worst nightmare, it can just as easily be seen as a strategic distortion in order to get their way.)
Ironically, by privileging Hitchcockian suspense over world affairs, I’d say the show managed to both be more exciting and make a bolder statement than Hitchcock’s later forays into this territory (Torn Curtain and Topaz). In IMF’s paranoid reality, everything was smoke and mirrors – on the one hand, you had all these masters of disguise staging events to expose the pretenders in power; on the other hand, M:I normalized the idea that there was order underneath the chaos, that there was always someone behind the wall, or under a latex mask, pulling the strings… (Even today, if you check out the newspaper right after watching an episode, you’re bound to feel suspicious as you read about the latest scandals and diplomatic turnarounds.)
That’s why it’s so neat when the show sort of goes meta and has the IMF subvert the opposition’s own attempts at deception. In ‘The Carriers,’ the team (plus George Takei) pose as enemy agents while infiltrating a training camp for foreign spies in the form of a recreation of an all-American town… So on one level you get to see how the show’s writers imagined the communists imagined them. And on another level – within the story – you get to watch a bunch of US agents pretending to be Soviet agents who are pretending to be US agents (presumably, the IMF agents themselves previously went through a parallel sort of training, since they’re so good at passing off as commies). It’s all a bit mindboggling and a lot of fun, especially the scene where Rollin Hand is taught the American way to buy hotdogs!
There are a few more of those. ‘The Play,’ in which Cinnamon stages an anti-American theater production in a socialist country, is genuinely perverse, as the IMF’s plan consists of encouraging the premier’s propensity for censorship in order to get rid of an eager minister of culture. It’s an unusually funny entry, too, which both satirizes propaganda and works as a slick propaganda piece itself. Moreover, in ‘Action!,’ the team films an enemy director filming fake footage of US war crimes (presumably in Vietnam). Thus, exactly one year before the My Lai massacre, this fascinating episode suggested that anti-war documentaries could not be trusted and US covert operations, if anything, were bringing the truth to light!

All this brings me to the point that you can just as easily see the IMF as the bad guys. After all, they are a secret organization who regularly disrupts other countries’ regimes and, even if not pulling the trigger directly, often sets up assassinations. M:I has us rooting for them by giving them sympathetic assignments: they sometimes prevent terrorist attacks or go after Nazis, mobsters, and heroin dealers. Season 5 even features a couple of memorable episodes with missions against apartheid (‘Hunted’ and ‘Kitara’). However, anyone familiar with the history of American black ops cannot help but feel suspicious.
Not that the show stayed completely away from ambiguity. Curiously, one of the most openly political episodes, ‘The Reluctant Dragon,’ went out of its way to complexify the feelings of people in the Eastern Bloc (it also featured a rather callous scheme by Rollin). In 1970, when countercultural backlash had become inescapable, ‘The Martyr’ twisted things around by having the IMF incite a student revolution abroad (one of the agents even gave a full rendition of Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are a-Changin’). This nifty episode provocatively blurred the lines not just between American hippies and foreign communists, but also between the iconography of leftist rebellion and the tools of US imperialism (Barney used a funky medallion and a Marxist treaty on agrarian reform to counteract a truth-serum-based interrogation). More clumsily, ‘The Innocent’ tried a different response by having the team recruit a young conscientious objector.
Regardless, I’d argue the issue is more structural. Since only the IMF’s foes get character development, it’s hard to avoid at least a bit of empathy with them as we see them being methodically manipulated towards their downfall. For example, even though ‘Phantoms’ pulls off one of the show’s most effective depictions of a socialist authoritarian system, Luther Adler’s performance imbues his ageing dictator with such an engrossing mix of ruthlessness and vulnerability that his final humiliation comes across as somewhat touching and tragic.
Rather than undermine the premise, these are the sort of contradictory readings and emotions that make Mission: Impossible such a stimulating treat.