Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Nine: Be a Clown

Hey, remember when I said The Underdwellers would be better if they used an established Batman villain? Turns out I was right.

Plot: Feeling neglected by his father, Mayor Hamilton Hill, Jordan Hill runs away from his own birthday party in the back of the hired clown's van. Unfortunately for Jordan, the clown is actually the Joker in disguise. Hijinks ensue.

In Christmas with the Joker, the Joker represented the ever-present threat and the attention seeker. Here, we are dealing the Joker as a tempter and a corrupter. Just as Batman is an inspiration to Frog in The Underdwellers (and, presumably, Robin), it turns out the Joker can be an inspiration too. He represents the freedom to runaway from it all and join the circus. Though, in the Joker's case, "it all" includes the law, morality, and sanity itself.

Notably, this inspiration is a by-product of his actions. The Joker doesn't set out to kidnap the Mayor's child and turn him against his father, that happens accidentally. In comparison, his actual plan of sneaking into the Mayor's house and blowing up his guests is remarkably straight forward.

But once the Joker learns what happened, and begins to realize the potential in creating a protege, the creepiness of the episode begins to ratchet up. We actually see the Joker make up his plans as the episode progresses, first simply teaching Jordan magic tricks to keep him entertained, then deciding to use him as bait to lure Batman into a trap, and finally forcing Jordan to watch Batman drown while the Joker stands behind him, squeezing his shoulder. The mythical parents who watch cartoons with their kids must have been freaking out at that point.

The Joker, accidentally and then intentionally, makes a mini-version of himself, a demonstration that anyone could be as bad as himself in the right circumstances, which is a recurring theme for the Joker from The Killing Joke to The Dark Knight. The Animated Series explores this theme further with the character of Harley Quinn, particularly her origin episode Mad Love, and then takes the disturbing implications of the Joker's attempt to make his own Robin to its extreme in the Batman Beyond movie, The Return of the Joker. But back to Jordan.

Jordan follows the Joker because, unlike Mayor Hill, who knocks aside Jordan's magic props to drag him to the party, the Joker doesn't seem to care about impressing people, he just wants to do his magic tricks. Ironically, the Joker is in fact obsessed with impressing people (as established in Christmas with the Joker) and craves Mayor Hill's attention even more than Jordan does, but Jordan doesn't realize that until the Joker tells him "there is no trick." The Joker is just a killer.

Even after Jordan rejects the Joker and runs away, the creepiness only increases. He already rejected one father for a new one. Rejecting the second father-figure leaves him alone in a terrifying world where nothing makes sense, everything is too big, and a monster is hunting him down. Even twenty years later, the sound of the Joker following Jordan while clack clack clacking his cane along the picket fence sends chills down my spine.

Which leads to the big moment of the episode, when Batman asks Jordan to trust him. At this point, Jordan has been betrayed by two father figures, and the second chased him onto a runaway rollercoaster while throwing exploding cupie dolls at Batman (in a scene taken from The Dark Knight Returns #3). Now a scary man in a black mask, who his father and the Joker insist is a bad man, is asking Jordan to rely on him, or he will die. It's impressive Jordan is able to even get out of his seat. But not only does his bravery save his own life, it earns him the highest honor, the Bat-thumbs up.

Other things to note: I'm pretty sure the Joker would have succeeded in blowing up the party if he hadn't put his face on the dynamite and thus given himself away. But then, he wouldn't be the Joker.

I'm also pretty sure that the full bearded Prociutto is actually Alan Moore, who wrote the Killing Joke.

For the third time in as many episodes, the Joker has Batman at his mercy and decides not to just shoot him in the face. I'm starting to get the feeling that he's not serious about this killing Batman thing.

And this is the first episode where Batman fails to capture the villain in the end. The Joker simply falls into the water. We don't see him escape, but we can't assume he drowned either. At least Batman actually kicked him this time, and the Joker didn't just trip, again.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Eight: The Forgotten

Plot: Investigating the disappearance of homeless men, a disguised Bruce Wayne is knocked out. He wakes up in a prison camp with no idea where, or who, he is.

Stylistically, The Forgotten is a sharp change of pace for the Animated Series. From the harmonica opening, the sun-drenched, sweaty setting for most of the action, and the lack of a supervillain, the episode plays like an episode of something that'd be called "Cool Hand Bruce."

Set-up-wise, it's very similar to The Underdwellers, with a villain who exploits the weakest in society, trading orphan children for homeless men. But the Sewer King is a supervillain, with a costume and alligator henchmen. Boss Biggis (named only in the credits) is a disgusting, hypocritical human being who spits chicken flecks while complaining that his prisoners/slaves are too lazy, but otherwise employs traditional weapons like barbed-wire and guns.

And while Frog and the other orphans' origins are left unsaid, this episode concerns itself with how a whole segment of society could fall so low that they can disappear without most people knowing or caring. That's why we spend time learning about Salvo's backstory, and even Reilly, who was volunteering at the shelter and kidnapped by mistake, sounds like he could be one paycheck away from being on the street himself. The effect is to show Batman fighting a real problem, both as Bruce Wayne helping at the shelter, and as his crime fighter persona.

Hence, I have a real problem with this plot hinging on the hoary cliche of concussion-induced amnesia, even if it does lead to some trippy visuals as Bruce Wayne puts his personality back together from fragments (and for a show that was never supposed to be about Bruce's origins, the Waynes have appeared in one out of four episodes so far, which is as many as the Joker).

Amnesia is such lazy writing, that handicaps the hero in a way that wouldn't actually work if you thought about it (wouldn't he lose motor skills along with his memories?). Maybe it's supposed to give Bruce time to bond with Salvo and Reilly before escaping, but Bruce could have just as easily just been trying to stay in-character while he waited for Alfred to show up, or actually handicapped with a broken-leg, or something besides stupid, stupid amnesia.

(At least when the new Batman: The Brave and the Bold cartoon did the same plot, Bruce loses his memory while in disguise,  it led to a song and dance number.)

There are some good elements around the stupid, stupid amnesia. The painters do a fine job with the warmer color palate the sunny desert setting provides, and Shirley Walker shifts the score to the prison movie mood while still remaining in the Animated Series ouvre. And it's fun seeing both Batman and Alfred act as detective.

Alfred definitely shines in the episode, rolling around a scrap yard in his butler tux, and flying the Batwing to the rescue (and Bruce's surprise). I think it's hilarious that Alfred thinks to change out of his tuxedo when flying a plane, but still wears a bow-tie, and that he apparently set the computer to "snarky", which actually says "Your funeral" in response to the order to land.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Seven: P.O.V.

Plot: when a police sting goes wrong and Batman's involved, three cops tell three stories about what went wrong. But can they get their stories straight in time to stop the criminals, and save Batman?

Seven episodes in and already they're playing with story structure in this Rashamon-inspired episode.

When we hear each officer, Detective Bullock, Officer Montoya, and the rookie Wilkes, tell their version, we see what really happened, which allows us to understand where their stories and reality diverge; that Bullock self-aggrandizes his version, shifting blame for his mistakes onto Batman and switching who saved who at the end, and the rookie attributes magical powers to Batman that can be explained away with darkly colored weapons.

Montoya's account and reality-line up exactly, and I think that's a mistake. The show could have gone further and show that everybody remembers events differently, and subjectively, but Montoya's account is flawless, AND she's the only one to put together the clues correctly.

Maybe showing her off in her best light is a good idea for her real introductory episode. Renee Montoya was created for the show (though, due to a quirk of timing, she actually debuted in the comics a few months before the show premiered). Generally, she plays foil to Harvey Bullock, as a cop who supports Batman, but is more conflicted about what Batman does than say Commissioner Gordon. According to the story bible, she has a fairly rich backstory, including being the widow of another officer, that I believe is never actually explored in the series.

In the comics, Montoya has gone on to a fairly impressive career, becoming Bullock's partner, making Detective rank, starring in the fantastic series Gotham Central, developing an emotionally complicated relationship with Harvey Dent/Two-Face, quitting the force, and becoming the superhero The Question. Bigger than that, however, was the revelation, in Gotham Central, that Montoya is a lesbian, which caused some fan-consternation at the time. She remains one of the most high profile gay characters in comics. She hasn't appeared outside of the comics or the cartoon series, making her only the second most popular character created by the show.

Interesting to note, she is not called by her first name in the entire show. She is always referred to as "Montoya." Her gender or ethnicity are never brought up or play into the plot at all. Which makes Bullock's grumbling "thank you" at the end a lot less problematic. He could have come across as sexist or racist, but instead he's just having a hard time accepting help from anyone, especially a lower ranking officer.

And why does Montoya go out of her way to get Bullock his badge back? We know and SHE knows Bullock lied to the internal affairs officer and pinned the blame on the failed bust on her and Wilkes (and Batman). And we know Bullock blew the sting by going in early. The best I can tell is that it's an attempt to have Bullock "owe her one."

Some interesting voice-work in this episode. Robert Costanzo does his usual great job as Bullock and Ingrid Oliu is pretty good in her major debut as Montoya. Robbie Benson (the Beast) plays the bedazzled rookie Wilkes, but I don't think he shows up again. The strange stand-out is Ron Perlman, who plays the head hood (credited as "Driller"). He only has a few lines, but the character design and line delivery give a minor character a real sense of menace.

"Driller" is the closest this episode comes to having a supervillain. Otherwise, there are no fantastic elements at play, no transforming man-beasts, no carnivorous vagina plants, not even alligator henchmen that attack on command. Just a safe, a drill, and an escape boat. Even Batman is on his best behavior, keeping the more science fictional tech at home.

There are some fantastic visual gags in the final fight scene where the major action happens just off camera (appropriately enough for an episode titled "P.O.V."), like the hood who charges forward, only to stumble back onto screen now wearing a table for a hat, or Driller trying to climb onto the dock while bodies fall behind and then on top of him. The hood who can only be seen in the dark by the explosion of his machine gun, or the unnamed boss hiding in the shadows except for his monocle.

I'm a little unclear about what the actual crime was. According to the Lieutenant, the sting was a on a drug lord, but Bullock interrupts a safe robbery. Was the safe bait for the criminals they were looking for? Or did a separate gang rob the targeted drug lord? It would be useful to know because it might answer the central question of the episode, why didn't Bullock wait for Montoya and Wilkes? We see him enter the warehouse, but we never see why. Maybe that's just one of those things we can never know.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Six: The Underdwellers

Plot: following reports of a purse-snatching leprechaun, Batman discovers the Sewer King and his gang of orphan thieves.

The Sewer King is Batman the Animated Series first attempt at an original villain, or as original as a Fagen-homage can get. There are elements here that make him interesting, mostly his use and abuse of children, which obviously touches a nerve with Batman. And his choice of henchmen allow us to see Batman wrestle and hogtie an alligator, so there is that. However, beyond that, he's not that interesting, and he could and maybe should have been replaced with one of Batman's other sewer dwelling foes, Killer Croc, the Penguin, or even the Ratcatcher.

Really, this episode is about Batman's relationship with children, specifically orphans. As with Nothing to Fear, The Underdwellers assumes you already know that Batman is himself an orphan, and identifies with the Sewer King's victims (there's a sideways allusion when Batman yells "children and guns do not mix. Ever!" It's such an obvious point that it hides the fact that Batman is referring to a specific event).

It's telling that he threatens to let the Sewer King die, which he did not do with the Joker, Scarecrow, or Poison Ivy, even though they had attempted murder. Clearly, Batman sees child abuse as something worse than murder. His tossed off, "a gruesome end for a gruesome man," when he thinks the Sewer King has been eaten by his own alligators recalls Detective Comics #27, his first appearance, where he responds to knocking a criminal into a vat of corrosive chemicals as "a fitting end for his kind."

We also see children's reaction to Batman: they think he's cool, obviously. Frog may run from Batman at first, but he learns to trust him, first when Batman saves his life, again when he sees a trash bin transform into the Batmobile, and again when Batman says he needs Frog's help. (Props to the animation and music departments. Since the Underdwellers don't talk, their acting is done through facial expression and music cues, and done quite well.)

But Batman does more than protect and comfort children, he also inspires them. The key scene, really, is when the Sewer King threatens to feed one of his own children to the alligators is Batman does not back off, Frog swings down on a rope in a Batmanly manor and saves the kid himself, earning the world's greatest honor, the Bat-thumbs up!

There's also the charming middle section where Alfred must bathe, feed, and put Frog to bed ("not necessarily in that order"). Again, Frog's expression as he gleefully steals all the silverware and rides a serving dish down the stairs play fantastically against Alfred's pained expression and exasperated delivery. The only note that rings false is Alfred's line about not knowing what to do with children. This is odd because it's already been established that Alfred raised Bruce when Bruce's parents died, and helped raise Dick Grayson when Bruce adopted him.

If anything, that's what's missing from the episode. We see Batman the son, identifying with Frog and sympathizing with the other orphans. But where's Batman the father? Robin isn't mentioned at all, but Robin is evidence that Batman has a habit of taking in orphans and turning them into superheroes (by this time in the comics, he would have done it three times already, and will do it again later in the Animated Series). From the way Frog swings on a rope, it wouldn't have surprised me if they made him the next Robin, or if his real name were Jason Todd.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Five: Pretty Poison

From an episode where I didn't have much to say to one where I may have too much. So let's get right to it.

In Pretty Poison, Bruce Wayne's pal, Harvey Dent, has met a new lady love, Pamela Isley. But when the D.A. is felled by poison, Bruce discovers this blushing flower hides deadly thorns as the villain Poison Ivy.

Like The Last Laugh, Pretty Poison wears its influences on its sleeves. The first two thirds of the episode are a Batmanly take on 1940s film noir: the Femme Fatale, the amateur detective, interrogations held under hanging lamps, worried doctors anxiously looking over charts, deep shadows, jazz music, the works. It could be a Howard Hawks movie, until a trapdoor opens in a greenhouse and reveals a more superhero-y world of carnivorous, giant plants and sexy Eve Halloween costumes complete with wrist-mounted crossbows.

However, the Animated Series economic storytelling hinders the what could be a typical noir mystery, "Who poisoned the District Attorney?". Even if you didn't know Batman has an established villain named Poison Ivy, the title and the fact that only one new character is introduced in the whole episode point pretty loudly to Pamela Isley's guilt right away. We know she did it, the only real question is why.

Which is how we get to the character of Poison Ivy. Like the Scarecrow, Ivy is motivated by revenge, though she is slightly better justified. After all, she seeks vengeance on behalf of the environment, and there's some irony that the only plant that could cure Harvey is the rose bush he almost eradicated by building his prison. That's as far as justification goes, however. In the end, she's still killing a man for almost destroying a rose, one she herself is willing to harm if it helps her achieve her goals.

And though she is motivated by plant life and environmental concerns, her chief weapon is seduction. Ivy wields sexuality the same way the Scarecrow uses fear and the Joker uses (or abuses) humor, as a way to incapacitate and manipulate her victims. She may use a crossbow and animate vines, but she kills with her kiss. In fact, Poison Ivy the seductress is her defining feature going back to her first appearance in 1966, where she was a Bettie Page knock-off who used her seductive powers to turn Batman against Robin. (The plant activism as a motive was added later when the environmental movement became more popular in the '70s.)

This makes Pretty Poison one of the more sensual episodes of the series, with some pretty sexy scenes, like Pamela and Harvey's uncomfortably long kiss, her hip swaying walk out of the restaurant (in a dress inspired by Jessica Rabbit), or her strip tease behind the modesty screen as Batman steals into her private greenhouse. (Ivy's undressing inverts a fantastic gag from earlier in the episode, where Batman puts on his costume in the time it takes Alfred to read Ivy's increasingly damning resumé.)

And that's the overt stuff. It's be hard to argue that the vertical maw of the Venus Batman Trap is not a representation of vagina dentata (what a wonderful phrase). And the animators slipped in another gag as the greenhouse is located at "69 Greene St."

This episode is also important in establishing Harvey Dent and Bruce Wayne's relationship. The flashback reveals that they have been friends for at least five years by this point (and answers my nagging question of how long has Bruce been Batman). Harvey comments on Bruce's wealth to Pamela, and in fact it's Bruce Wayne's credit card paying for the meal, suggesting a strong class difference between the two. On the other hand, Harvey Dent has the respect and political power that Bruce lacks. If Bruce is still worried that being Batman is a disgraceful way of honoring his parents, perhaps he looks at Harvey as the man he should have been. They trust each other enough to listen to each other's advice, but not completely. Harvey's line, "there's nothing we don't know about each other," is doubly ironic. Obviously, he doesn't know Bruce is Batman, but we'll later learn that Harvey is keeping a big secret from Bruce as well.

Other notes: The title card "A Better, Safer Gotham," juxtaposing the dark night sky and the jailbreak with a bright daylight and flowered field of five years ago, implies that despite the best efforts of Harvey and Batman, things have actually gotten much worse in Gotham. The story bible says that Stonegate Prison sits where the Statue of Liberty would be if this were New York, as a sign of the kind of city Gotham is. On the other hand, we may be seeing the prison and Gotham from Ivy's point of view at this point, where the city walls have grown too large and the past, which had a field of weeds, is much, if you'll excuse the expression, rosier.

Also, Ivy's thrown into Stonegate Prison, the source of her hatred of Harvey Dent, and not Arkham Asylum, despite being obviously crazy. Presumably the judge felt the irony was too irresistible.

Though the cops spend most of the episode looking in the wrong direction, it's nice to see that Bullock can actually be a good cop, as long as he's not chasing Batman. He may go back to his desk for his donut before heading out, but he's first on the scene of the escaped prisoner and he snaps to on Gordon's orders to investigate the Rose Cafe. We also get the official first appearance and spoken dialogue of Renee Montoya, but she doesn't actually do much, so I'll get back to her in a couple episodes.

Batman once again demonstrates his lack of trust of anyone else, stealing the blood sample from the doctor treating his friend Harvey Dent. You'd think the doctor would need that.

And finally, Bruce Wayne's car of choice is the Kord. At least, I assume it's spelled with a K, as in a reference to Ted Kord, the second Blue Beetle. It's only noteworthy because it's the first indication that any other superhero might exist. I am probably wrong, as a Cord, with a C, is an old style car, which is the show's preference (e.g. Bruce drives a Studebaker in The Forgotten). Still, that would have been nice.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Four: The Last Laugh

The plot: When the Joker parks a barge of laughing gas in downtown Gotham to cover a crime spree, Batman must race against the clock to stop him before Alfred, and half of the city, succumb to permanent insanity.

The Last Laugh may be my least favorite episode. It's certainly my least favorite episode featuring the Joker. Every other episode he's in is about something. In this one, he's just a criminal. A criminal who uses a terrorist attack to rob a city blind with the help of a murderous robot clown, but just a criminal. It could have been any villain in this episode, under scored by the fact that the Scarecrow also used a gas attack. Yes, he's attacking on April Fool's Day (wasn't it just Christmas? And why would you leave your home on any holiday in Gotham?), but it could have been the Scarecrow attacking on Halloween.

There's not much plot to speak of, or characterization. It's a good thing they set up Alfred as a surrogate father in the last episode because they certainly don't give Batman any reason to be extra concerned about Alfred's welfare in this one (other than good help is hard to find). Arguably, this is the episode that contrasts Batman's humorlessness with the Joker's mirthful attitude, but that doesn't ring as true in the episodes we've seen so far. The first thing we see Batman do, in fact, is smile and make a joke. So that kind of falls flat.

And the Joker is once again defeated when he trips and almost falls into a vat of chemicals. Sigh. At least we get to see him in his zoot suit this time.

I can see what they're trying to do. This episode, more than any other I can think of, resembles the old Max Fleisher Superman cartoons, which didn't have much plot or dialogue either. Just long chase sequences and action set pieces. The big difference between those shorts and this episode is that the Superman cartoons are seven minutes long. This episode tries to sustain a Tom and Jerry chase for twenty or so minutes. And fails.

I also don't like the score, for once. Yes, it's great that we hear the Joker's insane circus music theme for the first time, but it's overshadowed by the repeated funk drumbeat that plays throughout the episode. Shirley Walker uses a lot of different styles throughout the series, but for some reason this score just clashes with the symphonic style that usually characterizes the show.

There are a couple of good moments. Batman managing to punch the Joker through a periscope; the Joker's goons rolling their eyes as the boss makes yet another terrible joke, the reveal of what's under Captain Clown's mask (a shot that is straight out of the Fleisher cartoons).

We also get Efrem Zimbalist Jr.'s first take on Alfred, which unfortunately does not start out promisingly. We all know Alfred is an observational humorist, prop humor is beneath him.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Three: Nothing to Fear

The Plot: before he can stop the Scarecrow's terror campaign against Gotham University, Batman must overcome his own fear of failure and horrifying visions of his late father.

As a psychological study on Batman and what makes him tick, Nothing to Fear is a great episode. When dosed with the Scarecrow's fear toxin, Batman sees his worst fear, that being Batman is a disgrace, a failure in someway to live up to his father's example. It puts into question the premise of the character, that maybe it's a mistake to respond to personal tragedy with vigilante justice.

The show resolves this internal conflict with two moments of catharsis. The first is when Alfred reassures Bruce that of course Thomas Wayne would be proud of him, because "I'm so very proud of you." This, in a line, both cements being Batman as a morally responsible choice (as Alfred is the voice of sanity in the show) and establishes Alfred relationship to Bruce: Alfred is Bruce's surrogate father. Once again, the point is made that Batman, Robin, and Alfred are not just partners in crime, but a real family.

The other moment of catharsis comes when, hanging from the edge of a burning zeppelin, in the face of a giant, skeletal vision of his father, Batman recites lines that would forever be burned into the hearts of young Batman fans (and forever be parodied by Darkwing Duck), "I am vengeance. I am the night. I AM BATMAN!" Alfred may have given Bruce the perspective and support he needed, but Bruce is still plagued by his fears until he accepts his mission, "vengeance," his method, "the night," and his true identity, "Batman."

It gets at the heart of why Batman fears he's disgracing his parents. In order to be their vengeance, he has to be Batman, and he has to stop being Bruce Wayne. Wayne becomes a shell, a mask, the petty playboy so despised by Dr. Long. The vision of his father calls him both "Bruce" and "a disgrace," and in order to do his job, Batman has to reject both of those titles.

The weakness of this episode is the Scarecrow himself. There are a lot of good interpretations of the character out there, from his first appearance in 1941 to Cillian Murphy's portrayal in Batman Begins. A villain who uses fear as a weapon should make an excellent foil to Batman, who preys on "a superstitious and cowardly lot." And this episode makes a couple of nods at that, a dry remark from Alfred and Batman's use of the fear gas on Crane at the end. But mostly, the Scarecrow's pretty boring.

His motivation is mundane. When he explains to his two dim-witted thugs, incongruously named Nigel and Anthony, why he's attacking the school, we hope that there's some complicating factor. But, in fact, the Scarecrow likes to scare people, he got as a job that allowed him to scare people, Dr. Long fired him for scaring people, and now he's going to scare people until they allow him to scare more people. Dr. Long, played by professional cranky old man Kevin McCarthy (who recently passed), may be a jerk, telling Bruce Wayne "I don't like you and your dead father wouldn't like you either," but he hardly deserves to have his university destroyed for firing a sadist.

And the Scarecrow's plan is pretty boring too, a terror campaign to cripple the school and scare people away from attending. There's hints of how much more interesting the Scarecrow could be.In one scene, he uses fear to drive a crowd of people to mob Batman. The idea that he could use fear to manipulate people presents a lot more interesting plot and character potential, which the writers will play with in later episodes. But here, he mostly uses the gas to incapacitate his victims.

The Scarecrow's visual design is uninspired, like a cheap Muppet knock-off, and Henry Polic II just isn't an engaging voice actor. In the end, he's not as much of challenge for Batman as the fear gas itself is. Once Batman overcomes the gas, the Scarecrow himself goes down easy.

The fear gas allows the animators a lot more room for creative moments, from a great representation of claustrophobia as a shrinking jail cell, to the face in the flames, the Fantasia-inspired winged demon at the end. A lot of the mood is also set by Shirley Walker's score, who pull out allusions to Psycho and Night on Bald Mountain to move the audience.

Special attention should also be paid to the voicework of Richard Moll, aka Bull from Night Court. He'll get a lot more attention later, as he voices Harvey Dent, but in this episode, he's doing fantastic yeoman's work as the Scarecrow's two hoods, the Bat-Computer, and especially the haunting, chilling voice of the late Thomas Wayne. Again, it's the vision of Thomas Wayne who's the real antagonist here, and Moll captures that character perfectly.

Other things to note:

We finally learn Summer Gleeson's name and occupation in this episode, though she does little else than deliver some exposition and call Batman a loser (in a vision).

Two episode after sending the SWAT Team after him, the police have eased up on Batman. Only Bullock is still openly antagonistic, but without any support, he moves from being Batman's Javier to being his Lestrade. Not that Batman has earned their trust, really, since he totally withholds evidence from them (that maybe they could have used to track down the Scarecrow faster) and for the first time, pull off his signature move of disappearing from a conversation the moment Bullock turns his back.

When Scarecrow sets a trap for Batman by releasing his fear gas at the door, Batman enters already wearing his gas mask. Thus establishing that Batman isn't just smart, he's usually a step ahead of his opponents.

Both thugs fall from the zeppelin and Batman fails to save either of them. Fortunately, Gotham seems to be full of soft landing zones.

And finally, while the memory of his dead parents is a driving theme of the episode, it is NEVER said how they died or how their deaths were directly responsible for Bruce becoming Batman. Maybe it's because everyone in America knows what happened, and maybe it's because how they died isn't as important in this episode as the fact that they are gone, and Bruce Wayne can't get them back.

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode Two: Christmas with the Joker

From one of Batman's worst villains to one of his best, fantastic.

In "Christmas with the Joker," The Joker takes over the airwaves with his own version of a Christmas special, complete with surprise guest hostages and a wild goose chase around Gotham for Batman and Robin.

When listing influences for the show, Dini and Timm mention a lot of earlier cartoons like the Max Fleischer Superman shorts, but never, say, the Simpsons. Yet, here is the Joker singing the same version of Jingle Bells that Bart Simpson did in the Simpson's Christmas episode (that is, before jumping on a rocket tree and flying out of Arkham Asylum).

And yes, it's THAT version of Jingle Bells, which comments on Batman's body odor and mechanical trouble for his car, which also demonstrates the Joker's meta-awareness, the fact he seems to know that he's a fictional character in a TV show, like when he provides his own title card for the episode, or tells us the show will be right back after a word from the sponsor, right before the commercial break. Is he crazy? Or is he hyper-sane?

Outside of Batman himself, the Joker is probably the best character in the Batman mythos, and definitely the best in the cartoon series. The Joker first appeared in Batman #1, and has had many different interpretations over the last 70 years; crime boss, serial killer, colorful bank robber, terrorist, anarchist, nihilist. Like they did with Batman, the producers of the series drew on all of these versions, but instead of synthesizing it down to one cohesive whole, they just left it all in, hodge podge, creating a character that veers wildly from clown to killer between episodes, and even within them.

All of which is brought forward by Mark Hamill incredible voice work: his manic laughter, enthusiastic deliveries, underlying malice and his mercurial mood shifts from delight to hatred to boredom to actual fear to sheer delight again. Hamill's Joker actually seems to be having a good time. (Something I think Nicholson's Joker didn't have, and Ledger's Joker sometimes had).

Each Joker episode focuses on different aspects of the character. This one focuses on Joker the showman, the attention whore. The one that cuts into every transmission in Gotham so he can broadcast the show "no one wants to see but everyone will watch." When no audience shows up in his studio, he builds his own, and when he gets bored, he blows up his audience.

This episode also establishes that, while Joker wouldn't mind killing Batman, he'd much prefer to keep him alive and focused on him. At two points, the Joker basically wins, and so he must give Batman a hand. When Batman is lost and cannot find the Joker's base, the Joker gives him a clue where to find him. When he has Batman at his mercy, instead of blowing Batman up or dumping him in acid, he throws a pie in Batman's face. So from his first episode, we see that the Joker could never really kill Batman, or he'd lose his favorite audience member. And God help anyone else if THEY managed to kill Batman (but that's an episode we'll get to later).

The Joker serves another purpose, the ever-present threat. The first third of the episode, where Robin tries to convince Batman to stay home and watch It's a Wonderful Life because no one commits crime on Christmas, resembles a Batman short story, "The Silent Night of Batman," where Batman spends the night singing with the police choir as the people of Gotham basically sort out their own problems for once.

But in the Animated Universe, Batman still can't take the night off to practice his vibrato, because there will always be the Joker. Even the final moments, with Batman admitting life might not be wonderful, but "it has it's moments", is undercut by the fact that the Joker, wrapped in a straight jacket in a bare cell, is still singing carols and laughing and having a grand old time, and could escape on a rocket powered decoration at any time!

Robin is also first seen in this episode, but like the Joker, he isn't introduced as much as assumed to have always been there. To be clear, this is Dick Grayson, the first Robin, though he's wearing Tim Drake's uniform, long pants, black cape with yellow interior.

His relationship to Batman, however, is firmly established. In the field, he's junior partner. Batman gives the orders, but trusts Robin completely to carry them out. They even have established plays they can call in the field. (Though it seems "Operation Cause and Effect" means "stop whining about the Joker robots and blow up the cannon like I told you.").

At home, however, Robin is family. When later episodes establish Dick is attending college, we realize he's home for Christmas, and that's why he's disappointed to spend it with Batman "at the office." The show brings up that the Joker doesn't have a family twice, to contrast it with Batman, who though he may not realize it, does.

This episode places the show in a very odd place, time wise. For the most part, we're supposed to be seeing Batman's early career. This is his first encounter with most of the villains (other than the Joker and the Penguin), the police don't trust him, and Harvey Dent is still good looking. But his line, "it's never easy with the Joker," implies that he's fought the Joker many many times.

Robin's age also implies Batman's been Batmanning for a while. Assuming Batman didn't adopt Dick right away, and seeing that they are practiced partners by now, we have to assume he's been at it for four or five years at this point. Which makes it somewhat odd that the police still don't trust Batman, and Batman STILL doesn't work with the police.

Other things to note: even more than with Man-Bat, the show has left realism far behind. Any questions on how the Joker built a rocket into a tree, or found giant robot nutcrackers, or turned a telescope into a cannon, can be left at the door.

Besides the Joker and Robin, this episode also introduces reporter Summer Gleason, a low-rent Lois Lane knock off, as one of the hostages, but she's not named and surrounded by Gordon and Bullock, it'd be easy to assume she was cop as well. We'll get to her a bit more in the next episode.

That Batman hasn't seen It's a Wonderful Life, the story of how much good one man can do for a city, because he couldn't get past the title, is fantastic character work.

The animators are also zeroing in on the period setting. The television sets are still in color (later they'll be exclusively in black and white), but the hoods are now using tommyguns and the cameras look like something from the fifties.

And finally, I have long argued that Batman has one of the best dressed Rogues Galleries of any superhero. It'd be easy to wear tights and battle armor, but most of Batman's villains wear suits and tuxedos. It's a shame the first episode with the Joker doesn't have his purple zoot suit, but the green turtleneck under the orange cardigan (with optional breakaway hands) IS delightfully festive.

And so, in all, a great introduction of Batman's chief antagonist, their ongoing struggle, and Robin to boot. A Christmas miracle!

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: Episode One: On Leather Wings

(I'm watching, by the way, in DVD order, not airdate order.)

Okay, here we go. In this episode, a giant bat attacks a security guard, leading the police to try to arrest Batman while Batman investigates who might be trying to set him up. Turns out it's Man-Bat.

So the first question we have to ask is why Man-Bat? This was intended to be the first episode aired, why not lead with one of Batman's better known rogues, like the Joker, who's in the second episode? Or if you want to go with a villain who wasn't in one of the Burton movies, have Batman's first antagonist be the Riddler, which is how the 1966 Batman series started. (Or Catwoman, which is who the network, Fox Broadcasting, decided should be the first villain. This episode actually aired second).

Because, honestly, I can't think of an established Batman villain less interesting than Man-Bat. Wait, scratch that, I can, Killer Croc, but for basically the same reason, he's just a monster, with no real motives beyond that. To me, even the name "Man-Bat" implies Julie Schwartz got bored half-way through Frank Robbins and Neal Adams pitch meeting.

ROBBINS: So, I'm just spit-balling here, but let's say there was someone who was the opposite of Batman, a "Man-Bat" if you will —

SCHWARTZ: Perfect, Man-Bat, go with that.

ROBBINS: But, that's just —

SCHWARTZ: No, you're done. The kids will love Man-Bat. He'll sell a million copies.

Created in 1960, Man-Bat is Kirk Langstrom, a bat biologist who's experiments temporarily turned him into a giant bat, but then the Bat wanted to be free and began its own experiments to make the change permanent. He's basically a werewolf crossed with Jekyll and Hyde, and every Man-Bat story is the same. "I... can't... stop... the transformation!" And then Man-Bat appears, flies around, and gets beat-up by Batman.

He's no different in this episode. The writers make a feeble stab and throwing suspicion on Langstrom's mentor, Dr. Marsh (played by Rene Auberjonois) but Langstrom being voiced by Marc Singer (aka the Beastmaster) and his wickedly pointed eyebrows kind of give the game away from the beginning.

He'd be a much better Spider-Man villain, (in fact, he is, as that's basically the set of Spider-Man villain the Lizard) but as a Batman villain, he pretty much lacks. The only way he could be interesting to me is if he were truly an inversion of Batman, a tiny bat that dresses up like a man, perhaps in Bruce Wayne's shockingly brown suit. (In true cartoon style, the brown suit is the only one multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne seems to own).

Which brings us back to the question, why lead with Man-Bat? As far as I can tell, three reasons.

One) Using Man-Bat allows the animators to show off some pretty impressive action sequences. From the beginning, when the police blimp rises through the clouds in a particularly Miyazaki-esque moment, to the "chase" at the end, with Batman dragged over skyscrapers and through the construction sites of Gotham, the "camera" moves in smooth and dizzying ways that were a sharp break from the flat (read, cheap) animation style that had dominated the action cartoons of the 80s, like GI Joe and Transformers.

Two) By having the first villain be, for all intents and purposes, a Batman impostor, the series establishes in the first five minutes Batman's adversarial relationship with the authority of Gotham. Commissioner Gordon is a half-hearted defender of Batman at best, unable to stop Mayor Hill from launching a tactical assault on Batman. And Gordon doesn't have a loyal Chief O'Hara as his underling, but Detective Harvey Bullock, who openly undermines Gordon's authority in blatant disregard for Gordon's wishes while taking orders directly from the Mayor. Even a pre-Two Face Harvey Dent, who appears in a one-line unnamed cameo flipping a coin, is happy to work for Bullock (maybe it's because they share a name).

It's Bullock who really serves as the antagonist for the episode. He leaks the witness report that implicates Batman to the press, he brings it to the Mayor, he leads the SWAT team, and he's chartering the helicopter that's chasing Batman even as Batman is desperately clinging to Man-Bat high over the Gotham skyline. Capturing Man-Bat is really just a way of getting Bullock off his back. Actually curing Langstrom and returning him to normal life is an after-thought.

Not that Bullock doesn't have a point: Batman IS a nut. Gordon doesn't want a vigilante force on the street, but that's exactly what Batman is. And Batman doesn't do himself any favors either. Even before the cops show up to arrest him, Batman's investigations involve breaking into a crime scene and knocking out the cop on duty (possibly an early appearance of Renee Montoya). The story bible claims that Hill and Bullock have different motives for going after Batman, the Mayor to protect his corrupt friends, Bullock because he feels that brutality in the name of law and order is HIS job, but their motives aren't really delved into. All that's important for this episode and going forward is that Batman and the cops DO NOT WORK TOGETHER. There is not Bat-phone. There is no Bat-Signal. They are rivals at best, enemies at worst.

And three) By having a villain who transforms into a giant flying bat, Batman: the Animated Series established itself as the version of Batman that could have Man-Bat in it. A flying Man-Bat would have been impossible in Batman '66, would be too science-fictional for the Nolan Batman movies, and even the Burton Batman movies would have found it too unrealistic. (I say that, but Batman Returns does end with an army of rocket propelled penguins, so who's to say where the series would have gone had Burton stayed with it).

But budget and realism were not going to be problems for this series. If it takes an anime-style transformation sequence for Batman to be smacked face first into a helicopter, then fangs are a go. Because, if the police blimps and a man dressed in a cape didn't tell you already, Batman: the Animated Series does NOT take place in a real world, or even a world that tries to be real. It's a fictionopolis, a place where any type of story could happen. Sure, they could have started with a Joker episode, and when the Joker pulls out his giant killer robots, (or the Penguin his rocket army), you could dismiss that by saying, "he's a supervillain. They can do these things." But starting with Man-Bat shows that in Gotham, in THIS Gotham, anyone could have a monster inside them.

Other notes from re-watching the show for the first time in fifteen years:

I had forgotten how, if you'll forgive me, cartoony the animation is sometimes. Bruce Timm was coming off Tiny Toon Adventures and it shows in the way the poor security guard reacts in the opening sequence, or the way Bullock bounces as he moves. Bullock even looks like Montana Max.

It's funny that the first thing you see Batman do, after the opening credits, is smile and banter with Alfred. It's also weird to hear Clive Revill as Alfred, since he's replaced after a few episodes with Efrem Zimbalist Jr., who may have the coolest name ever.

The show also establishes the difference between Batman and Bruce Wayne, so that it sounds wrong when "Wayne's" voice comes out of Batman's mouth.

I was also struck by the score. Shirley Walker gets a lot of deserved praise for the music for the series, and even here at the beginning, it mighty impressive. Maybe it's just using a full orchestra instead of a synth, but clever moments like referencing In The Hall of the Mountain King during the transformation, or masking the rising police sirens with the "I'm doing detective work score," or even just the repeated use of horns to announce Batman's arrival, the music gives the show a timeless, classic, and epic quality.

Another thing I learned was that Paul Dini, who is often credited with the series along with Bruce Timm, isn't involved. At all. These episodes are produced by Timm and series co-creator Eric Rodomski.

So, all in all, not a bad start. The plot's a little uneven and Man-Bat is, well, Man-Bat, but most of the main cast is introduced nicely, ongoing conflicts are brought into play, and we got to see Batman fly. It certainly makes me excited to see the next episode, with a villain I actually care about.

What did you guys think? (And also, still looking for your thoughts on WORST episode, in say, the first four seasons of the show, i.e. what I have on DVD.)

*images take from toonzone.net

Batman: The Animated Series Re-Watch: The Beginninging

... Hello? HELLO? Is anyone still here?

So... it's been a while since I last posted (like, a year). There's been reasons, mostly work related, which I'll tell you all about when the time comes.

But lately, I've been considering re-watching the Bruce Timm and Paul Dini Batman: the Animated Series (or BTAS, as the kids are saying) and writing up my thoughts on the show. Looking back, the show was remarkable on a number of fronts. It's good superhero adventures, good kids cartoon, good noir, good television, heck, it's just plain good storytelling. And thanks to a sale on Amazon (still going on, as of September 26th) I finally own all four seasons.

So I decided to dust off of the old web-log, fire up the atomic turbines, and let a rip. Be warned, though, after Twittering for a year, I'm looking to start writing long again, in complete sentences that flow into other sentences to create whole paragraphs and articles that are coherent and complicated. So unless you're looking forward to 10,000 words on the importance of being Man-Bat, you may want to look away.

But before we get to the least-cleverly named Batman villain, let's take the overview. I consider Batman: the Animated Series to be the defining portrayal of Batman in the modern age, more than the movies (even Christopher Nolan's) and more than the comics. And this is intentional, because Dini and Timm (according to their story bible, which I'll be referencing a lot, so you might want to give it a read) set out to create a series that synthesized the Batman in comics, the Batman in the Tim Burton movies, the Max Fleisher Superman cartoons from the early 40s, and a style they referred to as "Dark Deco," into one defining product.

And I think it worked. For me, Kevin Conroy is what Batman sounds like. And I know plenty of people who consider Mark Hamill's portrayal of the Joker to be, not just the best work Hamill has ever done, but the best version of the Joker ever. Dini and Timm managed to pare down characters with, at the time, 50 years of history to most basic elements and create the "truest" version of each character. (Usually. Sometimes, like with Mr. Freeze, they completely re-wrote a character to make it work in the show, and as such redefined the character forever.)

That's not to say that some influences aren't stronger than others. Burton's second outing, Batman Returns, which came out the same year the cartoon premiered, weighs heavily on the series, providing the atmosphere, a mix of 40s fashion and architecture, the evocative Danny Elfman score and the general tone; dark, more serious than funny, but with an strong dose of the fantastic. If anything the series is more fantastic than the movies, with its man-beasts, immortal assassins, and transforming mounds of clay, and yet somehow less surreal.

And though it was a cartoon aimed specifically at children, Batman: the Animated Series broke from the mold in some very specific ways. For one, the criminals fired actual guns. After years of GI Joe, where two armies fired lasers at each other, and never seemed to hit anything, it was shocking to a twelve year old Steven to see crooks shooting bullets, and sometimes even hitting people with them! This was mitigated, somewhat, by the fact that they were firing Tommy Guns in what was nominally 1992, but still, actual violence and the threat of real death. The show also dealt with, sometimes subtextually, sometimes explicitly, domestic abuse, stalking, guilt, corporate malfeasance, police corruption, torture, and seduction. Heady topics for a lead-in to Animaniacs.

So the plan is to see if that still holds up, almost twenty years later. Everything I've heard says that they do, though I must admit it's been awhile since I've seen an episode myself. I'll write up each episode, skipping the summary and heading write into the analysis, what this episode is about, what inspired it, and how well it worked. As most episodes are villain oriented, a lot of these posts are going to be as well.

Since each episode is 22 minutes long, it shouldn't be THAT hard to go through them, so expect fairly regular posting, if not one a day then at least three a week. Reader participation is of course encouraged. If you've got more to share, an interesting tid-bit to offer, or an opposing point of view, just add it to the comments.

I'll start off the first discussion with a question, what's the WORST episode of Batman: the Animated Series? I look forward to hearing your answers, and your reasoning. (Also, when I get to that episode, I'll give you a shout out).