Well, this is turning into a rather nasty and brutal little tale, isn’t it? Fresh from crafting the most uplifting, inspiring Superman story of the modern age, Morrison is taking no small amount of glee in putting Batman through every possible wringer in bloody, violent and depressing fashion. And here, he ramps things up a notch by introducing an element of chaos into the Black Glove’s meticulously-plotted scheme – yep, it’s time for the Joker to shine.

Indeed, while I’d previously had some misgivings about the brief flashes of Morrison’s Joker that we’d seen up to this point, I’m somewhat surprised to find that his portrayal here is one of the best things about the issue. I wondered about having the version in the comics – all clinical robes, scarred face and incoherent mutterings – be so completely removed from the version seen in The Dark Knight – but as it happens, Morrison takes the most compelling idea from the film, that he is simply a force of uncontrollable chaos and anarchy, and uses it to drive the issue along. All of a sudden, the masters of the plot – well, Doctor Hurt at least – look far less in control than previously, and you just wonder if their downfall might end up being their attempt to control and use Batman’s greatest foe.

Finally unleashed in full after all those tantalising glimpses, though, Morrison’s Joker is wonderful. Half the time, it’s as if he’s talking to the audience as well as Batman – he laughs at the “stubborn conviction that somehow, somewhere, all of this makes sense”, and repeatedly asks “Now do you get it?” – and indeed, since his role is apparently to do little more than stand there and pass comment (messing with Bruce’s mind a bit more in the process), it’s as if he’s removed from the story entirely – a deranged sort of Greek chorus, if you like. That’s when he’s not slicing his tongue, serpent-style, with a razor blade, anyway. And if some of the honest-to-goodness humour about the classic versions of him have been lost (although I got a kick out of his genuine outrage that “Batman” should have dared to simply shoot him), it’s made up for by re-establishing him as genuinely terrifying and – most importantly – unpredictable.

As far as plot goes, there’s little to really talk about with this penultimate issue – it’s still frustratingly short on genuine answers (the ones that are given, at the end, still don’t feel like they’re telling the whole story – particularly since the issue’s main “revelation” is the one we’ve all been predicting since day one), and the story doesn’t move along much here beyond “Bruce fights his way to Arkham to try and find Jezebel, and confronts the Joker”. What this is about, really, are the moments. The conversations with Bat-Mite come to a brilliant conclusion – his answer to the question of whether he’s “really an alien hyper-imp from the 5th dimension, or just a figment of [Bruce]’s imagination” is an all-time classic Morrisonism, and chuckles (yes, there are chuckles among all the brutal violence and insanity) are also drawn from the appraisal of the Zur-En-Arhh costume, and the single line granted to Damian.

One can’t help but wonder, meanwhile, whether this story might have felt even more definitive with a better artist. Tony Daniel seems to get a bit of a kicking in reviews of this book – the consensus being that he’s just not up to the material Morrison is providing – and while some of it’s a bit unfair, you can sort of see the point. He’s definitely a competent artist, and he has genuinely great moments – but his storytelling and character consistency are off at times, and the feeling still lingers that he’s a fill-in artist elevated at the last minute to a job that he’s simply not prepared for. Obviously, you’d never get the book out with anything like the necessary regularity under someone like Frank Quitely, but that’s the calibre, at least, that a story of this magnitude should be looking for.

Morrison’s Batman remains a curious beast. Throughout, we’ve had the feeling that it was something more layered and complex than a superficial reading suggested – and those of us who’ve attempted to delve deeper into its themes and symbolism have found the exercise, to an extent, rewarding. But reviewing it purely on an issue-by-issue basis is difficult, because everything is so dependent on the context of everything else around it – and a true analysis of whether or not the whole thing actually hangs together will surely only be possible once it ends. Perhaps the biggest compliment for now, though, is that we simply have no idea how it’s all going to end – and in comics storytelling, that’s one of the best feelings you can inspire.