Sixty years ago, in March 1939, Detective Comics number 27, cover dated May, hit the news-stands. Among the escapades of heroes and villains now long since forgotten, it contained the first appearance of a character destined to become a 20th century icon.
From the start, Batman was a fusion of eclectic strands of popular culture. Undoubtedly, he owes a debt to Superman, which had appeared the year before. Douglas Fairbanks's film Mask Of Zorro and Bela Lugosi's Dracula helped to shape him. And with a dash of the cerebral Sherlock Holmes, the picture was complete. From the stock adventure/horror elements of their time, Bob Kane and his writing partner Bill Finger created a unique comic book masterpiece.
The 1930s Batman was a product of post-Depression America. It was a time of empowerment for the ordinary Joe. Batman was the dark side of the American dream, a shadow on the optimism of the age. His parents killed during a street mugging, the young Bruce Wayne inherits untold wealth that he cannot enjoy, and driven by revenge, he uses his riches to forge himself into a vigilante of astonishing single-mindedness.
But the solitary intensity was short-lived. By 1940, red-breasted Robin the young sidekick had entered the stories. The Boy Wonder added a splash of colour and lightened the mood. And while Europe had embarked on war, the Dynamic Duo held their own in battles against wrongdoers of increasing eccentricity.
In post-war America, with the threat of Nazism finally zapped, the battle turned to the enemies within. The fear of communist subversion infiltrated the popular imagination. Cinema screens mirrored public anxiety with a string of alien invasion movies.
Not to be left behind, Batman turned his attention to fighting killer moths and aliens. But these heroics were not enough. In 1954, Dr Fredric Wertham's denunciation of comic books, Seduction of the Innocent, caused a public outcry. According to Wertham, Superman represented 'a symbol of violent race superiority' and Wonder Woman 'a lesbian recruiting poster'. Before long, Bruce Wayne and his plucky ward Dick came under fire for representing 'the wish dream of two homosexuals living together'.
Something had to be done. To the rescue came seductive sirens like Catwoman, Batgirl and Nightshade. Meanwhile, the publishers tried to rescue the industry with the self-regulating Comics Code Authority, but this failed to stem the bankruptcies. Batman and Robin retreated into the shadows.
In 1965, Paramount Pictures producer Bill Dozier was looking for the next hot property. His eyes fell upon the lurid cover of the latest issue of Batman, and the rest is TV history. The irreverent colour, camp and character of the show delighted a wide audience. The overlaid graphics and stylised set-ups were an instant hit. From January 1966 to March 1968, Batman attracted a mainstream family audience two nights a week. Square-jawed Batman Adam West even made the cover of Life magazine. But it couldn't last. By 1968, in a time dominated by the dark mood of Vietnam, Batman's slick jokiness began to wear thin. Ratings slipped, and after 120 episodes the show was cancelled.
It was to be 20 years before Batman's fortunes revived.In 1985 Batman's publishers brought in Frank Miller, who used new illustrative techniques to reinstate the intensity of the Batman of old. The Dark Knight Returns, which appeared in 1986, portrayed a dystopian vision of the future, where a 50-year-old Batman is flirting with alcohol and suicide, and turning to vigilante action to impose his own kind of order on an increasingly disordered society. In spirit, it was Miller's Batman that came to the big screen in 1989. Batman: The Movie, starring Michael Keaton, took $405 million worldwide. Sequels followed in quick succession, turning the character into a profitable commodity cross-merchandised in books, clothing and other paraphernalia.
Batman as a commodity is hardly new. He has proved himself endlessly reinventable, and each generation has created a Batman to suit its own needs. As we approach the millennium, Batman is a figure blurred by the endless reinvention that is modern mass culture. He is at once an icon and a commodity: the perfect cultural artefact for the 21st century. Happy Birthday, old chum - and here's to another 60 years.