In Absolute Power: Origins, writer John Ridley pens an excellent story of Amanda Waller’s beginnings, which unexpectedly ties together a couple of sources across different eras. That’s irresistible to me, and I continue to be impressed of late at DC’s seeming renewed willingness to weave their post-Crisis and post-Flashpoint histories into a cohesive whole.

To an extent Ridley doesn’t give us a lot we don’t know about Waller, especially pulling from established stories, nor does Origins really mitigate Waller’s extreme actions in Absolute Power proper — maybe if we ignore all her adventures and changes in between, but not if we don’t. But that doesn’t take away from it being a compelling story of Waller’s beginnings, and further a challenging piece, in some ways reminiscent of Ridley’s GCPD: The Blue Wall, worthy of contemplation.

[Review contains spoilers for Absolute Power: Origins and GCPD: The Blue Wall]

Origins echoes or recasts scenes from John Ostrander’s original Suicide Squad title, as well as from both early and late in Rob William’s Rebirth-era Suicide Squad title — namely, issues from 2017 appearing in Justice League vs. Suicide Squad and issues from 2018 appearing in Suicide Squad Vol. 7: Drain the Swamp. Origins was only three issues and the collection weighs in at not more than 100 pages with the inclusion of that Ostrander issue, Suicide Squad #10; I wouldn’t have minded really if DC had also included Williams' Suicide Squad #9 and Suicide Squad #35.

Ridley, perhaps commensurate with his work on Other History of the DC Universe, mixes, matches, and recasts events. Williams' Suicide Squad #9 was a flashback issue to the secret history of the first Squad, so predating Ostrander’s Squad #10 (in fictional time), which was a story of the “original” 1980s Squad. But Ridley then takes conversations from Williams' Squad #35, many Squad iterations after Ostrander, and essentially grafts those on to the Ostrander era (a sort of “wrinkle in time,” if you follow the metaphor).

Ridley’s timeline gets more uncertain from there, seeming to posit Waller becoming a grandmother (back with Williams again) somewhat parallel with the current events of Absolute Power. No harm done — the salient broad strokes of Amanda Waller’s life remain intact, and indeed I appreciated the dreamlike quality of the final pages; it makes it just as easy to read this as the origin for the mysterious Waller as it does to read this as just an origin for Waller.

Ridley cleverly parallels Amanda Waller and Bruce Wayne in the beginning, both losing family members to violence. But because Bruce takes his revenge in costume while Waller’s husband kills their daughter’s murderer outright (and is killed himself), Batman is praised as a hero and Joe Waller is castigated. Though the lines aren’t clearly drawn, in broad strokes there’s injustice here — Batman hides his identity, ostensibly a sign of guilt, but for that reason he gets away with his actions, while the Waller family is denied Joe’s death benefits because he acted publicly. Race clearly underlies the situation too, with the Gotham police benefitting from their white extra-legal vigilante but Waller unable to surmount the prejudice around her daughter’s case — a lot of which is communicated in the first issue through artist Alitha Martinez' excellent facial expressions.

Thus begins Amanda Waller’s vendetta against vigilantes, though arguably her anger is misplaced; Batman benefits from a system, but the problem there is systemic and not Batman’s or other superheroes' specifically. Surely too there’s an element of Waller taking out her anger over her husband’s vigilantism on the vigilantes that are still standing. In this way we see and understand Waller’s rage, and she’s not wrong, but neither is she wholly justified.

I was reminded of Ridley’s GCPD: The Blue Wall, where a police officer fed up with racial harassment goes on a murder spree. I admire Ridley’s willingness to handle tough topics, but that’s equally problematic, that a victim becomes an aggressor rather than the more comfortable narrative of victim as hero or as one who rises above. Ridley gives us something similar with Amanda Waller; there’s no question here that legitimate harm has been done, but Origins is the story of Waller taking that harm and perpetuating harm in response. That’s not neat or easy, and taken to extremes it only furthers the narratives that fuel the injustice, but again I recognize Ridley’s bona fides as a writer able to get into the real nuance of difficult topics.

Though three issues isn’t a lot of room for machinations, I appreciate the spy thriller aspects of Origins, notably two scenes with effective misdirection. In the first issue, we’re led to believe that a scene where Waller receives a police report has to do with her daughter, only to discover later she was collecting evidence to blackmail a councilman; in the second issue, it seems as though Waller’s threatening a political opponent, only for us to find out later that it’s her daughter’s fiancé. That Ridley’s Waller is a step ahead of everyone, including the reader, reinforces the legendary spymaster’s prowess.

I’ve noted that I found Absolute Power itself a bit short, not quite weighty enough for all that led in to it. Absolute Power: Origins is also short, though I don’t think John Ridley needed to do more here than he did. It’s surprising really that DC didn’t pad out this book with extra old Amanda Waller appearances, which I wouldn’t have minded (though that means extra royalties to pay out for the volume, so maybe that explains it).

I’d still like to see John Ridley get to tackle a Batwing Luke Fox/Batman Jace Fox team-up.

[Includes original and variant covers]