The Dark Knight III: The Master Race (Comics) Review

After the catastrophic failure of The Dark Knight Strikes Again, acclaimed comic-book writer Frank Miller (300, Ronin) had two choices: walk away from Batman forever or attempt one final redemption arc to salvage his tarnished reputation.

Miller chose the latter, partnering with talented artist Andy Kubert (Batman Vs. Predator, Flashpoint) to create The Dark Knight III: The Master Race in 2015. The collaboration promised to blend Miller's storytelling vision with Kubert's traditional artwork.

But here's the brutal truth: some franchises should know when to quit. The Dark Knight III feels less like a triumphant return and more like watching a once-great fighter stumble back into the ring years past their prime. Miller's attempt to course-correct creates a comic that plays things frustratingly safe while missing the mark entirely.

Years have passed since Batman's last adventure and Bruce Wayne has retreated into complete isolation while Gotham falls apart around him. The world faces a new threat when Kandor, the bottled Kryptonian city, expands to full size and its inhabitants declare themselves the supreme master race destined to rule Earth completely.

These aren't the peaceful Kryptonians from traditional Superman stories– they're fascist conquerors who view humans as inferior beings worthy only of servitude. Superman remains missing, leaving Earth defenseless against his own people's supremacist ideology.

The Kryptonians systematically destroy major cities and establish concentration camps for human populations. Their leader, Quar, embodies everything wrong with unchecked power, turning Superman's legacy into a nightmare of genocide and oppression.

Batman emerges from retirement not by choice but by necessity. The man who once inspired fear in criminals now faces enemies who can level mountains with their breath. Miller positions this as the ultimate David versus Goliath story but the execution feels more like watching David throw pebbles at a squadron of fighter jets.

The story attempts to explore themes of fascism, racial superiority and the corruption of power through superhero metaphors. Miller draws obvious parallels to historical atrocities while using Kryptonian supremacy as a stand-in for Nazi ideology.

Carrie Kelly returns as Batgirl, now fully grown and serving as Batman's primary ally. Her character development shows promise but Miller reduces her to exposition delivery and action sequences rather than giving her meaningful character arcs.

The relationship between Bruce and Carrie feels more like mentor-student dynamics from a martial arts movie than the complex partnership the story needs. Wonder Woman plays a significant role as one of the few heroes capable of standing against Kryptonian might.

Miller writes her as a warrior princess stereotype, complete with dialogue that sounds more like bad sword-and-sorcery fiction than contemporary comics. Her romantic subplot with Superman feels forced and undermines both characters' agency in the larger conflict.

The pacing suffers from Miller's tendency to jump between multiple storylines without proper transitions. We get scenes of Batman planning resistance, Wonder Woman fighting Kryptonians and human refugees struggling but these elements never come together coherently.

The story feels like three different comics awkwardly mashed together. Miller introduces new characters including Lara, Superman's daughter, who becomes crucial to the plot's resolution. Her character represents hope for peace between Kryptonians and humans but Miller's writing reduces her to a generic chosen one archetype.

The generational themes that could have elevated the story get buried under action sequences and political allegory. The series attempts to address social issues including immigration, authoritarianism and racial tensions through its alien invasion premise.

Miller's commentary feels heavy-handed and obvious, lacking the sophisticated approach these topics deserve. Every political point gets delivered with the subtlety of a brick through a window rather than natural storytelling.

The climax involves a massive battle between human resistance fighters and Kryptonian forces, with Batman leading a desperate final assault on Kandor itself. The resolution depends on convenient plot devices rather than organic development.

Major conflicts get resolved through deus ex machina moments rather than earned character growth. The ending attempts to provide closure to Miller's Dark Knight trilogy while setting up potential future stories. Instead, it feels like Miller trying to have things both ways– ending the saga while keeping doors open for more sequels.

The result satisfies neither approach and leaves readers feeling like they've experienced an incomplete story. Miller's political messaging overwhelms the superhero elements, turning entertaining Batman adventure into heavy-handed lecture about authoritarianism.

The story reads more like Miller's personal manifesto than a Batman comic, with characters serving as mouthpieces for his political viewpoints rather than fully realized individuals with authentic motivations and their own development.

Andy Kubert's artwork represents a significant improvement over Miller's solo visual experiments in Strikes Again. The detailed figure work and traditional comic book aesthetics provide visual clarity that was completely absent from the previous sequel.

Kubert understands how to stage action sequences and create readable panel layouts that serve the story rather than distract from it. However, the collaboration creates its own problems. Kubert's realistic art style clashes with Miller's exaggerated storytelling approach, creating disconnect that runs through the series.

The artwork looks professional but feels detached from the story's tone and themes. Miller's writing shows slight improvement from Strikes Again but still suffers from fundamental structural problems and pacing issues.

His dialogue remains clunky and exposition-heavy, with characters delivering speeches instead of having conversations. The pacing jumps erratically between slow character moments and explosive action sequences without finding a sustainable rhythm.

The political commentary dominating the narrative feels forced and unnatural. Miller attempts to address contemporary issues through superhero allegory but lack the sophistication to make meaningful statements. Instead of enhancing the story, the political elements overwhelm everything else and turn entertainment into propaganda.

The Dark Knight III: The Master Race represents a missed opportunity to redeem Miller's tarnished Dark Knight legacy. While Kubert's artwork provides visual competence missing from Strikes Again, fundamental storytelling problems remain unchanged. Miller still prioritizes political messaging over character development.

This isn't the triumphant return Miller's reputation needed. Instead, it's a competent but uninspired comic-book limited series that plays things safe while still managing to disappoint readers who expected genuine creative expression.

The Dark Knight III proves that some stories are better left untold completely. Miller's attempt to create a definitive ending to his Batman saga results in a comic that diminishes everything that came before it. Even with improved art and more restrained storytelling, the series lacks passion and innovation that defined the franchise.

This comic serves primarily as a reminder of how far Miller has fallen from his creative peak. Instead of providing closure to the Dark Knight saga, it highlights everything wrong with unnecessary sequels and creative burnout in comics.

The Dark Knight III: The Master Race is collected in multiple editions. You can grab the standard trade paperback, the deluxe Absolute Edition– which includes tie-in mini-comics and extras– and digital versions are available on ComiXology, DC Universe Infinite and Google Books.