Though Uslan touches on what it took to retrieve the film rights to Batman and bring a darker version of the character to the big screen, most of his book is spent discussing growing up as a comic book fan in the 1950s and '60s. Uslan takes what he describes as a "blur collar" approach to his life story. Every chapter is a quick, easy read that directly addresses the audience.
I absolutely love the way Uslan's stories unfolded from page to page. Every chapter is a self-contained story, yet he's usually able to squeeze two to three tales into one larger story. There are a few times where his narratives go completely off course, following strings of events that seem irrelevant, but like any good storyteller, everything has a way of circling around. It's incredibly entertaining and makes you want to jump to the next chapter just to read another one of his anecdotes.
As a bit of icing on the cake, many of his stories are punctuated by little shout-outs to key players in the story. At one point early in the book, Uslan recounts a story involving a crotchety store clerk named Tepid who demanded Uslan buy all four copies of Fantastic Four #1 after leafing through one issue (according to Uslan, Tepid was convinced just looking at a book on the rack instantly ruined it). Luckily, Uslan had an extra 40 cents on him - a result of his first encounter with inflation in the previous chapter - and escaped Tepid's threats of being locked in the store's bathroom for the rest of his life. In his not safe for print shout-out to Tepid, Uslan mentions each issue of Fantastic Four sells for $52,000 - "...and I have FOUR of 'em."
Uslan, who also teaches a "Comic Book Folklore" class at Indiana University, also takes time to discuss some of the bigger parts of comic book history, such as the purchase and rebranding of both Marvel and D.C. Comics, the evolution from horror and sci-fi comic books to those featuring super heroes and even a short story about an unfortunately named comic book character and how it relates to the old printing process.
The stories about some parents not "getting it" and tossing their kid's prized collections in the garbage should strike a familiar chord with readers. I remember growing up hearing stories about my dad's collection of Superman, Green Lantern and Flash comic books and how, after going off to college, my grandmother cleared the entire shelf. Hell, even with those stories, my collection somehow went missing when I moved out (my parents claim the box is still in the house, but was misplaced after some post-Katrina closet shuffling).
Uslan doesn't get to his career in Hollywood until later in the book, and his involvement with the Batman franchise comes in much later. The stories offer a different look at Hollywood's inner workings, though mostly skim the surface rather than delving into the industry's deep underbelly. What I love about the industry stuff is Uslan's pursuits are mostly fueled by his love of comics and desire to restore dignity to Batman, a character that was more or less marginalized following his light-hearted Silver Age appearances and the campy Adam West TV show. There are a handful of great stories tucked away regarding the production of the 1989 Batman, including fan uproar over the casting of Michael Keaton as Batman. The fan complaints mirror nearly every casting argument made today, proving things really don't change as much as we think they do.
Although his stories of life as a producer are just as interesting, Uslan's geeky love of comic books is always at the forefront. This was my favorite part of the entire book and, in a way, sort of made me ashamed to not embrace my love of geeky hobbies more than I already do. To hear Uslan talk about the various colors and effects of Kryptonite is kind of awe-inspiring.
The Boy Who Loved Batman is a great read and recommended reading for every comic book fan. It's packed with geeky, comic book love and a insider's look at both the film and comic industries and how they usually aren't the best of bedfellows.
