The case for Robin

Of all the supporting characters in the Batman universe, Robin is the one most widely perceived as problematic, especially by those adapting Batman for movies and other media.
This stems from two main misconceptions, the first being that the 'true' Batman of the comics flies solo, and that the kid sidekick was only introduced when the credibilty of the writing took a nosedive. The second point, and the one most often referenced, in countless stand up routines, sitcoms and piss-takes, is that having Batman and Robin living together makes them look like a gay couple, or makes Bruce Wayne look like a child molester, or something along those lines. And either way, it's a portrayal of reckless child endangerment, right?

For decades, the only Batman known to the public at large was slightly out of shape, wore reading spectacles and liked Go-Go dancing. As a Batman die hard, I should perhaps hate the 1960's TV series, but I don't and, in fact, I think we should be grateful for it. People are a tad more superhero savvy these days, but while your average Joe or Jill might be able to name a few X-Men, or Spider-Man's aunt, to this day, Batman and his world remain the most famous of all superheroes, and we have that daffy old show to thank for it. Batman, Robin, Alfred, Commissioner Gordon, the Joker, Catwoman, the Penguin, the Riddler, Batgirl, the Batmobile, the Bat Signal, Batarangs, Gotham City, the Bat Cave, the utility belt... That TV series made icons of them all, and its impression on the pop cultural unimind will never be totally sponged out. The trouble is that the real Batman, as everybody now knows, is dark, brutal, psychologically scarred and not remotely camp, and fights terrifying sociopaths, not over the hill vaudeville stars in domino masks.

The Camp Crusader was the bane of Bat fans and comics writers for a long, long time, and helped ensure that Michael Uslan's vision for a thematically true Batman feature film had a torturously drawn-out production history, but in hindsight the 60's Batmania probably did them all a big favour. The comics themselves had been splashing about in the murky waters of self-parody since the mid-1940's, with aliens, time travel, dimension-hopping imps, Bat-pets and much mortification besides. This was no crime, conventional superheroics were out of fashion and the books struggled to keep up with modern trends- lest we forget Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman all managed, via this creative contortionism, to survive uninterrupted through decade after decade, as many contemporary books fell by the wayside.
From about 1969 onwards, a harder-edged and more realistic approach was the order of the day, and it gave Batman a shot in the arm. I'm sure it's no coincidence that this was also the time Dick Grayson became a far less visible presence in Batman's life, having finally grown up a bit and found his own niche with the Teen Titans, and departing Wayne manor for university in New York.

Everyone knew the Adam West and Burt Ward incarnations of Batman and Robin, if not from the orginal run of the series then from their televisual afterlife, via reruns and voice-overs in 1970's cartoon shows. Older viewers remembered the awful, dirt cheap chapter plays of the 40's, which also did the rounds on US TV.
The picture was clear; old, embarassing Batman and Robin vs. modern, hard, serious and credible Batman, sidekicks optional. If Batman was perceived as risible, went the reasoning, Robin must have been at least partly to blame, so marginalizing him seemed a wise move.

When the Batman movie finally materialised in 1989, a huge hit thanks partly to the novelty value of it not being the expensive train wreck everyone was expecting, there was no Robin and no room for him. Tim Burton and co. had little if any enthusiasm for the character and when he did finally make it into the movie series, Joel Schumacher was directing. The architects of the awesome Animated Series also preferred an undiluted, no-nonsense Batman, with Robin on the fringes, until studio bosses made their feelings clear by changing the show's title to The Adventures of Batman and Robin.
In fact, the latter didn't hurt the animated series all that much (the early episodes, for all their gobsmacking style, were rough around the edges), and Batman Forever is nowhere near the war crime it's made out to be. Batman and Robin may be universally acknowledged as one of the worst anythings in the history of everything, but you can hardly put the blame for that on the shoulders of Dick Grayson. No matter, both incidents contributed in cementing the myth that Robin was an aberration, forced onto Batman by committee thinking executive types, in naked persuit of the kid appeal dollar.

In print, Batman only operated alone for the first year of publication before Robin was introduced, created by the same talents as Batman himself, Bob Kane and Bill Finger, with artist Jerry "I created the Joker! I did! Me, me, me!" Robinson. This was a canny business move, no question. Kids were the target readership, so putting a kid character into a costume and making him apprentice to the newest and, obviously, coolest superhero around was inspired. Sure enough, kids lapped it up, sales got a boost and sidekicks became all the rage for a while. But bringing in Robin was as much about giving Batman someone to talk to as anything else, and regardless of original intent on the part of the writers or DC, his creation broke new ground in superhero storytelling and added to the Bat mythos immeasurably.
Since 1940, through thick and thin, it's been Batman and Robin. Sharper comics writers like Grant Morrison have recognised this, and make the most of both the character and the resonance of his partnership with the Dark Knight. I think it was Denny O'Neil, in writing Nightwing, who described Dick Grayson as a prince, heir to Batman's throne, and it's as good an analogy as I've heard.

Far from being just the kid sidekick, there to keep kids happy (and while we're on the subject, the notion that the kids at home always demand kid characters or they get bored and find something else to watch/read is absolute rubbish. Kids watch Batman movies and read Batman comics for the same reason as the rest of us- Batman!) and get captured and rescued, Robin (specifically Dick Grayson) is a huge part of who and what Batman is, and has long since proved himself a great character in his own right. He should not be dismissed as gimmick or frivolity.

It goes without saying, then, that Robin has never quite been done justice on screen, even thought the Forever and animated versions mentioned above acquitted themselves fairly well. Though animated series made since haven't flinched from portraying Robin as a true Boy Wonder, elsewhere the accepted wisdom was to portray him as a young man, perhaps a late teenager, somewhere between 16 and 20. But Robin needs be a kid, perhaps not 8 or 10 years old, but a kid all the same. In one sense, he's the child Bruce Wayne never had a chance to be. He also represents Batman's worst nightmare, the tragedy he was always pledged to prevent... another orphan of Gotham crime.

Robin is an acrobat, a kid who grew up in the circus with his family, always on the move, always performing for a crowd. Swinging across rooftops at night is his way of recapturing how he felt when his parents were alive. That was the only life he ever knew and, to him, the circus was home.

One can look at Robin's story as a sort of violent metaphor for growing up. As children, most of us know the love and security of our families and we never doubt it. This was especially true of Dick Grayson, who knew from the age of four that his parents would literally always be there to catch him. But just as the onset of puberty, with its storm of emotion, potential, new energy and endless new questions is desperately bittersweet, as it usually entails that very security evaporating, Dick is propelled into the adult world by the tragedy of his home and family being ripped away from him. Life as Robin means grand heroics, endless excitement and adventure, often with the whole world or even the whole of creation at stake, but like Bruce Wayne, Dick only began that life at the expense of everything he knew and loved as a child.

When the young Bruce's parents died, it fell to Alfred to comfort the boy as best he could, forming an awkward and usually unspoken father-son bond, with Bruce never able to fully acknowledge Alfred's love for him, nor Alfred wishing to be seen as trying to replace the parents Bruce had lost. There is a tragic irony in that same relationship being played out between Bruce and Dick, Bruce assuming the new quasi-father role and, pressumably, coming to understand and appreciate Alfred more in the process. Both men were then charged with ensuring that Batman's 'squire' was spared as much of the pain and as many of the early pitfalls that Bruce experienced in the years leading up to his return to Gotham as possible. With the Wayne fortune and influence securing Dick as Bruce's official ward, Dick probably got the best upbringing a young orphan/ superhero could hope for.

Robin is not Batman Jr., however, and to interpret the character as such would be missing the point. From his very first appearance, Dick was portrayed as almost a direct spiritual opposite to Bruce, and as much as he would look up to Batman as everything he respected and aspired to be as a crime fighter, I think perhaps he also felt "There but for the grace of God go I". In a perhaps slightly self-centred, but typically teenage way, Dick seems to have consciously decided not to let the awful murder of his parents define him as a person, and though his heroic identity may have darkened slightly with the advent of Nightwing, and even his eventual inheritance of the Batman mantle itself, he's never quite become the brooding avenger. To this day, through many more tragedies and losses, he remains a naturally upbeat, energized, social character, dashing and romantic and everything the public persona of Bruce Wayne is meant to be. From that perspective, he's probably living the life his parents would have wanted for him, which is more than can be said for Bruce.

In short, there's more than enough dramatic meat on Robin's story to make for an excellent movie, provided the people making it have read the right comics (if any). Tim Burton declared he couldn't make the character "work" for him until he could figure out some sort of appropriate psychological profile, and going by his spin on the other Batman characters, I suppose that means his Robin would have to have been a total headcase. This might explain why the "Robin" meant to appear in Batman Returns, a "technologically savvy street kid" who would have been played by Marlon Wayans (seriously), bore no resemblance to the Dick Grayson of the comics whatsoever. Both Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale have publically stated that as long as they are involved with Batman movies, Robin will not be, which has prompted many fans to speculate on how they'd modify him to fit the depressingly 'realistic' tone of the Nolanverse. I wouldn't bother.
It seems plain that there'll be a Batman movie reboot of some sort within the next 6-8 years, since the new wave of DC movies are aiming for a Marvel-inspired 'shared universe', and a Batman who doesn't, or won't, interact with the aliens, gods and magic of the DCU is no good to anyone, especially when they come to make the inevitable Justice League movie.

On balance, for all their contributions to rehabilitating the Bat in live action, and the sheer perfection that was Batman Begins, the Nolan team's approach seems to represent a more narrow, conservative take on Batman lore than almost any other. I can live with his slightly sniffy remark that the villain of Batman 3 "won't be Mister Freeze!", but Nolan seems reluctant to even consider the likes of the Penguin as a viable antagonist. And when you get down to it, the Penguin is nothing more than a short, rotund, affected crime boss with a pointy nose. Christ, if they can make the Joker plausible...

It wouldn't surprise me in the least if the studios concluded that, as with the Spider-Man trilogy, once movies of this type have been the biggest hits they can possibly be (The Dark Knight made over a billion dollars, as if you needed reminding), they only way to go is down. Either than or hit the reset button.

So no, Robin isn't a liability. He remains a Titan in waiting.