What sets the DC Animated Universe from other cartoons is a sense that it is the fruit of real artisans, not factory workers. As such, many episodes bear a personal significance to Timm, Dini, or other members of the production staff. The first time I grasped this intimacy between art and artist as it corresponds to the DC Animated Universe was when listening to the DVD commentary track for Robin’s Reckoning, during which Timm professes to have cried the first time he saw the completed work, when young Dick Grayson bade farewell to the elephant of Haley’s Circus.
Tools of the Trade has every reason to be of diminutive stature when compared to the multi-part adventures or character spotlights of late. It is easily comparable to Off Balance of Batman: the Animated Series: each is a relatively minor outing that sets the stage for a tyrannical foe who is to become of major importance in the latter half of the series. But while Off Balance was a paltry genre exercise that used espionage tropes and classic film references as crutches, Tools of the Trade manages to build suspense within the confines of its own universe, that of a futuristic industrial city ravaged by technologically savvy criminals. There are looming themes of extra-terrestrial sovereignty, rushed diplomacy, and at the end of demonic intervention in worldly affairs, each of which is of some partial interest, but all of which are inherently more palpable than Off Balance’s lowbrow spy caper.
What sets good ‘filler’ episodes apart from the rest of the batch is the noticeable spot, the fleeting moment of genius, and Tools of the Trade ploughs along at a humdrum pace until a particularly swift cut or potent image crackles and revitalizes the screen. Of course the instance that will be best remembered is the final uncompromisingly enigmatic shots of the hellish landscape of Apokalips and the cragged face of the planet’s overlord, Darkseid. This blunt foreshadowing might irritate more astute critics for comparatively soiling the twenty-one preceding minutes of only competent action scenes and lukewarm conflicts between larcenous gangsters and valiant police force. But I believe there is more to it than that, and this belief of course returns to my first paragraph about the personalized craftsmanship of these cartoons.
In a lesser cartoon, the presence of a character embodying a comic book artist as prolific as Jack Kirby would be little more than a wink to the audience, a means by which to fall into the good graces of the fans and win their approval, an Easter egg and all such synonymous phrases. But there is a complexity to Dan Turpin’s introduction here that subsists until Apokalips..Now! many outings later. The most important point of intertextual crosshatching is the relationship between Kirby and The New Gods, his most famous DC Comics creations. Keeping in mind this relationship, Darkseid’s presence at the end becomes less a vague signifier of ‘something’ to come, and one can infer that his future intercession will somehow collide with Dan Turpin’s tough, brash bulldog approach to law enforcement.
Turpin is little removed from Harvey Bullock of Batman; he is characterized prominently by his rough dialect and short fuse. But while Bullock is a grimy, mangy figure often exploited for comic relief, Turpin is respectable and always defined foremost by his dedication to his job. The staff clearly has an affinity for him, and even if his go-it-alone is hardly more than a stock police drama conflict, the outcome is fantastic, an overblown nod to the alliance between superhero and serviceman coated with patriotic salutations and a refreshingly idealistic trump to the demoralizing press.
Tools of the Trade is about how Timm, Dini and company love Jack Kirby, praising his deep devotion to his art through Turpin’s deep devotion to his job. And so if one can keep in mind that stray bit of comic book trivia that it was Kirby who spawned Darkseid and the New Gods, an episode that might otherwise just take up space becomes genuinely foreboding.
