Animal Man by Grant Morrison Review
Grant Morrison's moving, metafictional Animal Man run.
By Web Admin
There’s a moment near the end of Grant Morrison’s Animal Man where the hero, sitting alone after everything he loves has been taken from him, looks up out of the page and says, “I can see you.” He’s talking to us. And then he meets his writer. It’s one of the most famous sequences in superhero comics, and it’s the payoff to a run that spent twenty-six issues quietly redefining what a cape book could feel like.
Published by DC starting in 1988 and later gathered under the Vertigo banner, Animal Man was Grant Morrison’s American breakthrough. It’s funny, strange, and — by the end — genuinely heartbreaking. This is our full review: what it is, why the metafiction works, and where to start.
What is Animal Man?
Buddy Baker is a former stuntman who can temporarily “borrow” the abilities of any animal near him — a cheetah’s speed, an elephant’s strength, a bird’s flight. He’s a C-list DC hero and, crucially, a married suburban dad. Grant Morrison’s run, which began in 1988 with artist Chas Truog and iconic covers by Brian Bolland, ran twenty-six issues and used this second-string character to tell a story about family, animal rights, and the nature of reality itself.
The genius move is grounding: Buddy has a wife, two kids, and a mortgage. That ordinary domestic life is what gives the run’s stranger flights — and its devastating turns — their weight.
The metafiction: breaking the fourth wall with a point
Plenty of comics wink at the reader. Animal Man does something deeper. Over the run, Buddy slowly becomes aware that he is a character in a comic — that his suffering is being written, that there are people watching. It culminates in issue #26, “Deus Ex Machina,” where Buddy meets a fictionalized Grant Morrison and confronts his own author about the cruelty of the story.
What keeps it from being a gimmick is that Morrison uses the device to ask real questions: about grief, about why writers put characters through hell, about the responsibility of a creator to their creations. It broke the fourth wall with genuine emotional and philosophical purpose, decades before that became a pop-culture reflex. If you’re new to terms like this, our comic book terminology guide unpacks metafiction and more.
“The Coyote Gospel”
The run’s most celebrated single issue is #5, “The Coyote Gospel.” Drawn as a tribute to Looney Tunes, it follows a Wile E. Coyote-style cartoon creature cursed to be endlessly, painfully “killed” and resurrected — a Christ-like martyr suffering for the sins of a cartoon world. It’s strange, sad, and formally daring, and it’s the moment many readers realize this is not an ordinary superhero comic. Bolland’s cover and Truog’s shift into cartoon physics make it unforgettable.
Animal rights and real conviction
Morrison, a committed vegetarian at the time, wrote genuine conviction into the book. As Buddy’s connection to the animal kingdom deepens, he becomes an activist, and the run engages seriously — sometimes uncomfortably — with animal cruelty, factory farming, and testing. It never fully turns into a lecture, because it’s always filtered through Buddy’s very human struggle to do the right thing while keeping his family safe. The result is one of the few superhero comics with a real, felt ethical center.
The emotional core: a story about family
Under the metafiction and the message, this is a story about a man who loves his family and the horror of losing them. Without spoiling the turn, the run’s back half delivers a gut-punch that recontextualizes everything before it, and the final issues are as moving as superhero comics get. Buddy’s grief is the engine that drives the metafictional finale — the fourth-wall break only lands because you care so much about the ordinary family behind the costume.
The art: Chas Truog and Brian Bolland
Chas Truog (with inker Doug Hazlewood) handles the bulk of the interiors in a clean, approachable style that grounds the strangeness — exactly the right choice for a book about an ordinary man in an extraordinary story. The showstoppers are Brian Bolland’s covers: twenty-six miniature masterpieces of design and surreal wit that are worth the price of admission on their own. Together they give the run a distinctive, slightly uncanny look that helped set the visual tone Vertigo would soon build a whole imprint around. It’s a reminder that “unflashy” storytelling art and “unforgettable” covers can live in the same book.
Content note
Animal Man is a mature-readers book. It contains disturbing violence, depictions of animal cruelty tied to its themes, and profound grief and loss. Morrison handles this material with purpose rather than shock, but readers should know the run goes to some dark places, especially in its final act.
Pros and cons
Pros
- Groundbreaking, purposeful metafiction
- A genuinely moving story about family and loss
- “The Coyote Gospel” is an all-time great single issue
- Brian Bolland’s covers are worth the shelf space alone
Cons
- Later issues get heavier and more experimental
- Animal-cruelty themes can be hard to read
- Early art is solid but not flashy
How it compares to Morrison’s Doom Patrol
Morrison launched two of DC’s weirdest, best runs within a year of each other, and readers of one almost always seek out the other.
| Run | Started | Signature move | Best for |
|---|---|---|---|
| Animal Man | 1988 | Fourth-wall metafiction | Emotional gut-punches |
| Doom Patrol | 1989 | Pure surrealism | Big weird imagination |
| Watchmen | 1986 | Formal deconstruction | Superhero as literature |
Read our Doom Patrol review next, or see where both rank in our best superhero comics guide.
Which edition should you buy?
Morrison’s twenty-six issues are collected across three volumes. Here’s how to pick.
| Edition | Collects | Approx. price | Best for |
|---|---|---|---|
| Book One paperback | Issues #1–9 | ~US$20 | Trying it out |
| Book Two & Three | Issues #10–26 | ~US$20 each | Finishing the run |
| Deluxe hardcovers | The full run, oversized | ~US$30+ each | Collectors |
The verdict
Grant Morrison’s Animal Man is a landmark — a run that took a forgotten hero and used him to say something true about creation, cruelty, and love. It’s smart without being cold, experimental without losing its heart, and its final issue remains one of the boldest things a mainstream superhero comic has ever done. It’s a cornerstone of the best Vertigo comics and a highlight of the DC hub. If you love superheroes but suspect the genre can do more, start here.
Frequently asked questions
Do I need to know Animal Man before reading Morrison’s run?
Not at all. Morrison’s Animal Man #1 is a clean starting point that reintroduces Buddy Baker from scratch — no prior reading required.
Is Animal Man connected to Doom Patrol?
Only in spirit. They’re separate books Morrison wrote around the same time, sharing a sensibility (and eventually the Vertigo banner) but not a continuity. Read either first.
Is the metafiction confusing?
It builds gradually and is very readable. By the time Buddy meets his author, the story has earned it, and it plays as emotional rather than merely clever.
Is Animal Man okay for younger readers?
It’s a mature-readers book with violence, grief, and animal-cruelty themes. For younger fans, our beginners guide has friendlier picks.
Keep going with our Doom Patrol review, or explore the whole Vertigo library.
