Comic Book Intros: The Good, the Bad, and the In-Between
—How Opening Pages Set the Tone, Shape the Story, and Influence the Screen
If a comic book is a three-act play in twenty-two pages, then the intro is your curtain-raiser. It’s not just how the story begins—it’s how trust is earned. Nail the opening, and you’ve got a reader (or viewer) for life. Fumble it, and even the most devoted fan might quietly close the cover.
From graphic panel to cinema screen, some of the most iconic superhero stories didn’t just make an entrance—they announced themselves. Here’s a look at intros that soared, stumbled, or simmered their way into greatness.
The Good: When the Intro Grabs You by the Cape
🔥 Batman: Year One (1987)
Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s Batman: Year One opens not with the Caped Crusader in full swing, but with two origin stories in parallel: Bruce Wayne returning to Gotham and Jim Gordon arriving by train. It’s moody, procedural, and deliberate. The city feels like a character, and the voiceover-style narration gives us gritty insight into both men’s moral code.
On screen? The DNA of this intro shaped Batman Begins (2005) and even more so The Batman (2022), which borrowed heavily from Year One’s noir tone and its Gordon-centric detective atmosphere. Reeves’s Gotham feels like it crawled right out of those early panels—rain-slicked streets, internal monologues, and all.
🚀 All-Star Superman (2005)
Grant Morrison’s All-Star Superman has arguably the most efficient and emotionally resonant comic intro ever: “Doomed planet. Desperate scientists. Last hope. Kindly couple.” Four panels, four captions, and you know everything you need.
In film? This exact text was adapted word-for-word in the animated All-Star Superman (2011), and elements of it inspired the succinct Krypton collapse montage in Man of Steel (2013). It’s a case of a minimalist intro translating directly to the big screen with emotional weight intact.
🧪 Ultimate Spider-Man (2000)
Brian Michael Bendis redefined Spider-Man for a new generation with a slower burn. The comic’s first pages show Norman Osborn experimenting on spiders—ominous, corporate, clinical. It’s a quieter intro, but one that sets up the dominoes perfectly.
Cinematic echoes? This intro directly inspired The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), where Peter’s transformation and Oscorp’s shady dealings were front and center. Though the film didn’t hit the cultural highs of Raimi’s version, it borrowed its thematic backbone from Bendis’s opener: science, secrets, and consequences.
The Bad: When Intros Miss the Swing
😬 Justice League: Rise and Fall Special (2010)
This comic opens with Red Arrow discovering his dead child. It’s a gut-punch, but it also comes out of nowhere with minimal setup, relying on shock rather than storytelling. Instead of building emotional resonance, it alienates.
Translation to screen? Thankfully, this one never made it. But it serves as a cautionary tale: brutal events without narrative context just feel hollow. And when films try this (looking at you, Batman v Superman’s hasty Robin suit reveal), they often confuse more than they compel.
The In-Between: The Slow Burns That Pay Off
🔍 Watchmen (1986)
Alan Moore’s Watchmen opens with a murder mystery—Edward Blake’s death—told through Rorschach’s iconic journal narration. There’s no costumed action, just breadcrumbs. It’s poetic, paranoid, and slow.
Screen adaptation? Zack Snyder’s Watchmen (2009) lifts this almost panel-for-panel, narration and all. The difference? On-screen, that same slow burn had to compete with pacing expectations. But in print, it’s a masterclass in tension.
🧊 Captain America Comics #1 (1941)
Okay, technically not a slow burn—it opens with Cap socking Hitler in the face. But here’s the twist: that’s the cover. The comic itself starts with Steve Rogers getting injected with the Super Soldier serum and becoming Cap behind closed doors.
In film? Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) honors this by starting in WWII, but it deepens the origin. Steve is skinny, idealistic, and ready to dive on a grenade before ever touching the shield. That emotional groundwork builds a far more powerful character arc—proof that sometimes intros benefit from decades of hindsight.
Why Comic Intros Matter—on the Page and on the Screen
Comic book intros aren’t just plot starters. They establish tone, character philosophy, and most crucially, trust. In a visual medium, that can mean pacing, panel choices, and even what isn’t shown yet. When adapted for film, these same openings are often reshaped, sped up, or repackaged—but their essence remains.
A brilliant intro tells us: Here’s what you’re in for. A bad one tells us: We’re not sure what this is yet. And a good film or show? It knows which type of intro to borrow, and which ones to leave behind.
Final Panel
The next time you pick up a comic, linger on those first few pages. Ask: Is this a cold open or a slow simmer? Is it grounded or mythic? Because if Hollywood’s taught us anything, it’s that those first moments can live forever—not just in ink, but in IMAX.
Got a favorite comic intro that nailed it—or a film version that fell flat?
