Do me a favor: bookmark this page.
Now.
Next time you read someone online asking,
"Why don't they just execute the Joker?"
Give them the link.
And remind them that.
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| "The Joker Walks The Last Mile", Batman #64, 1942 |
They already did. 81 years ago.
He got better.
Or perhaps I should say "Harvey Dent", since he's never actually called "Two-Face".
The restaurant Bruce takes Harvey to is called "Utterson's"; Utterson was the name of Dr. Jekyll's friend in "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll".
A point is made (by Alfred, the spokesman for Not Being a **** in this show) that Bruce is being a **** in having intentionally pushed the emotionally fragile Dent in an attempt to get to the people behind Dent's disfigurement. Batman points out that this is just the kind of tactic Harvey himself used to use as D.A., which prompts Alfred to note that catching the perpetrating may not be worth losing the victim and prompts us wonder whether Batman choosing to be a little less like his ****ish friend who's turning into a supervillain might be a good idea
They do a good job with Two-Face. He does not snap immediately, he goes mad bit by bit, as the result of his own reactions and decisions, which is one of the running themes of the series.
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| Not everyone has the resilience of Dawn Davenport. |
As mentioned in an earlier, the show's characterization is an interesting reversal on the traditional portrayal. His accident does render him emotionally unstable and bipolar, but rather than make him "evil", it just kicks his war against Rupert Thorne and corruption into extreme mode. He becomes both more supportive and understanding than he was before, but at the same time much more violent and ruthless. Two-Face certainly is no "super"-villain, but even in a short episode it's shown how his unpredictability and viciousness makes him unusually formidable. I mean, who throws a piano down a flight of stairs? Even a "simple" incident of him being "good" by saving someone from a mugger turns into a moral nightmare of him trying to make the victim complicit in the murdering the murder. It is not enough that his own worldview is tainted; he insists on tainting yours as well.
Once he is captured, they do a good job of showing you a Harvey Dent you might just believe could be reformed... and a good job of letting Harvey Dent himself convince you of why he should never be given that chance. He is sensitive enough to understand the other inmates in Arkham; and enough of **** to snark "Yes, I know how hearings work, Gordon," to his defense attorney. He is surprising down to the end... I certainly never expected [SPOILER ALERT}...
that they would KILL Harvey Dent.
The flip side is: they do a bad job with Two-Face. Despite frequent reference to a more elaborate and ambivalent view of justice and whether the end justifies the means (the very question Alfred is trying to help Bruce confront earlier) Harvey Dent still refers more than once to "The Other Guy" as if he is one person and (unnamed, extreme) Two-Face is another. This is a huge misstep, not merely because it is the one problem this interpretation held promise of correcting but also because it is inconsistent with Harvey's portrayal in the episode.
In the second part, Harvey is too much a pawn and not enough of a player. Despite masterfully manipulating Bullock and Flass against each other (another flash view of his "powers" that made him so promising as a potential returning villain), once he escapes from them and handcuffed to Barbara Gordon, it's all a Defiant Ones remake aimed at his final redemption.
On a more technical level, Dietrich Bader (as much as I love him for his brilliant work as Batman) botches the voice for Harvey Dent. His voice is nasal, whiny, and weak. Much of the time he sounds more like a teen girl having a meltdown than a Gotham madman. Two-Face is an high drama villain, an needs a more operatic presence. He needs a spine-shivering whisper and an intimidating shout; this one has neither.
And also....
they KILLED Harvey Dent. The other villain on this show with the most potential re-use value. Are they THAT convinced they aren't getting a second season or that convinced that they make something else amazing no matter how many classic characters they burn in their wake?
Boy, howdy. The list is long -- unimaginably long, really -- of Gotham City characters I would recommend, or even think of, bringing back before Nocturna. I have only made passing mention of my profound disgust for this obscure character once or twice here, but so thorough is my loathing that I have refused to give her any more screen time explain to condemn her in detail.
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| Especially when there are other characters who truly DESERVE condemnation in detail. |
The version the show gives us here is scarcely recognizable. The name's the same and she is a pale-skinned creepy goth chick in cahoots with a brother named Anton. But this Natalia is a young girl and a vampire-but-it's-a-medical-condition-so-we-don't-call-her-that. The point of her storyline is that Batman's got a soft spot for kids. It's a valid character beat for Batman, of course, but I'm not sure we needed a whole episode for it.
The episode gives a big wink to a bunch of Robins we won't ever get to seen which is on the one hand cute and on the hand irksome. Thanks for reminding of us of... what you won't let us have?
The subplot of Harvey Dent's mayoral campaign really heats up in this episode. We learn that Harvey, even if he is full of himself, really IS trying to make Gotham City a better place by getting elected; he's just slowly compromising himself along the way. It makes his last-minute stand against corruption all the more impressive... and tragic.
The episode DID give us Bruce Wayne announcing that he's looking for some little girls backstage at the carnival and getting the snot beat out of him and throw into a ditch by some carnies as a result, which I found delightfully refreshing.
I believe this is the friend time we've seen Julie Madison, Bruce Wayne's Golden Age arm candy. Hm. It would be crazy to put her and an older Natalia, renamed "Tala" together for a Mad Monk episode, but certainly no crazier than a female Penguin, eh?
Surprised that I named this episode after Jim Corrigan and not Onomatopoeia? Don't be. The only thing stupider than Onomatopoeia in comics is an attempt to put him and his metahumor in 1930s Gotham City. Ugh. Some of the showrunners' choices in their series have been impressive. Others have been questionable and some (including this one) downright dumb. Why I do not know. There were no "dumb" character choices, or even interpretations, in "Batman: Brave and the Bold" (although some were ahem unique, some verged on definitive).
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| Most human events have been mere byproducts of History's true goal of producing This Perfect Version of Thaddeus Bodog Sivana. |
Anyway, what happens to heroic Detective Corrigan in this episode is, I think, the second saddest event in the series as a whole, and I am not ashamed to say that it caught me by surprised, just as it was intended to. For my sake, I am glad it did.
The episode, in which Team Good Cops is trying to protect Jim Gordon, who appears to have a price on his head placed there by an unknown mob figure. It's another Battle Against Corruption story, with a strong dollop of the Rich Don't Care About the Poor Or The City, and Right & Wrong Can Be Tricky. I can't believe I am saying this, but in a strange way having Onomatopoeia, an empty cardboard villain with a target on his face where he's supposed to be punched and no ability to spout meaningful dialog was kind of a relief here.
The episode is another example of the series showing us that Barbara Gordon is such a bad-ass just as she is, the idea that she would ever become Batgirl is absurd.
There is an upside to planning out a series in advance and giving it underpinning themes. It can impart a coherent tone and message compared to a more anthological approach. But the downside is that underpinnings can leave you stuck in place, unable to spread your wings. This episode is proof of that.
Several characters are remade here to fit the running theme of class conflict and the arrogant disdain of the wealthy for the underclass. The Gentlemen Ghost is cast as a spectral elitist and Brit sympathizer during the Revolution, a foe of democracy. Harvey Dent is shown as a child of wealth, who has relied on his society connections to get ahead, and has trouble in the polls because he's not viewed as a Man Of The People. Lucius Fox chastises Bruce Waynes for "not treating the help like people".
At this point in the show, I'm actively peeved at the showrunners acting as if Bruce uses Alfred for batarang target practice or demeaningly calls him "Fattypants" or something.
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| I don't suppose there ARE non-demeaning ways to call someone "Fattypants". |
He is certainly colder toward Alfred than we are accustomed to, but it's not cruel or dehumanizing. It's a pretty normal reaction to having lost those closest to him as a child. It is, after all, traditional to call butlers by their last name. Alfred is the ONLY butler I have seen in any fiction anywhere who is NOT called by his last name.
Perhaps it's the times we live in or the showrunners' need to exonerate Bruce Wayne from the "crime" of being a one-percenters. But after six episodes, the execution of this theme is feeling pretty heavy-handed.
This is also the episode where Batman learns, to his surprise, that the supernatural is real. Alfred, being a Brit, is naturally spooky and already knows. To his credit, Bruce adapts to this knowledge extremely quickly and gets some help from discount Baron Sunday. Give the ongoing presence of Detective Jim Corrigan among the Gotham City's Good Cop Brigade, one could be forgiven for wondering they might be setting up for the Spectre at some point.
In these two episodes, the running backstory of the battle against corruption in Gotham City comes to the foreground.
Firebug (pretty sure they never actually give him a civilian name) is not really the subject of the first episode. He's just a living pawn in the game between the good cops, the bad cops, and Batman. He's the plot device that helps the good cops realize just who is on whose side. The good cops fall out of favor with the mayor, who is losing ground to Harvey Dent's mayoral campaign, and the mayor takes the powerful "Task Force" against vigilanteism out of their hands and puts the bad cops in charge.
Dr. Quinzel's role as part of the Good Cops is expanded, only to reveal that she is, in fact, rather a villain herself. Or at best an anti-hero, kidnapping and psychologically torturing wealthy ****heads into giving away all their money before killing themselves. As such, she dovetails with one of the other running themes of the series: rich people being ****heads.
Exactly what methods beyond some coercion and classical conditioning therapy she is using to effect these wild changes in behavior is entirely unclear, the behaviors are inconsistent, and her control of her subjects is pure plot magic (certainly for the era the show is set in). This is a glaring weakness in the episode, but I guess the showrunners couldn't resist using some handwaving to send a version of King Tut jabbering down the streets of their oh so dark series.
Quinzel, and the patients she slowly drives mad, fit one of themes of the show. She never has some sharp psychotic break with reality. She becomes the person she is step by step by decisions based on her own beliefs and experiences. Harley Quin is no sudden break from her persona as Dr. Harleen Quinzel. It's a clear choice logical dictated as the next step when she reaches an impasse in the treatment of some of recalcitrant patients and sickness in the city that they represent. In her way, she believes she's doing the city a favor by removing dangerous unhealthy elements.
Isn't that what Batman believes?
Isn't that what even Bullock and Flass believe, as they try to prevent threats to the current corrupt--but stable--status quo?
P.S. You have to be fast on the pause button, but if you are, you can catch a lot of nice easter eggs when they are researching old newspapers on microfiches, which contain headlines that refer to incidents in old BTAS episodes (e.g., "BOYLE OUT AT GOTHCORP" and "RARE FLOWER BELIEVED FOUND AT PRISON CONSTRUCTION SITE").
I loved this episode for the same reason that many people, I suspect, will hate it: Selina Kyle is delightfully shortsighted and incompetent. That is REMARKABLY refreshingly. I am long-since fed up with the portrayal of Catwoman as a super-competent anti-hero. But THIS Selina Kyle? Talented but overconfident, selfish and short-sighted, entitled and frivolous, fond but disloyal, covetous and superficial. Troublesome, yes, but not a serious threat. Truly... cat-like.
Note how her treatment of the help comes back to bite her. It's part of a larger theme for the season. And, like Clayface, she's a person who's shown to ruin herself through a series of consistently bad decisions based in poor moral character.
Oh, but the outfit, the car, the decor; I appreciate her sense of style over practicality. She's got her priorities exactly wrong and I support it 100%. I know it's a fool's dream, but she makes me hope we could see a Golden Age Killer Moth in a subsequent season, because he's a villain in the same mold.
So, Penguin, Clayface, and now Catwoman have been set up and taken down and imprisoned in one episode. This show does not seem especially concerned about the reusability of its villains, but at least they haven't killed any off. Yet.
The background plots of GCPD corruption and Dr. Quinzel build nicely. I like Dr. Q quite a lot as an independent character, cheekily taking on Bruce Wayne, and making her a member of a ladies' demimonde with Renee Montoya is a lovely touch. I can honestly say that this is first time Harley Quin actually made me spontaneously laugh out loud.
Well, someone finally did Clayface the way I wanted them to: with (1) Basil Karlo the horror actor (2) using the ability to alter mostly his face to disguise himself as different people. I have always hated the ridiculous Silver Age, shapeshifting version, who I feel belongs in a different rogues gallery (and perhaps at a different publishing company).
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| It's pretty bad when you find yourself siding with the Joker. |
This tale of a great man not satisfied with his brand of greatness is classic villain-making. Someone who becomes a villain by a series of bad decisions based on their character flaws, not just happenstance or a moment of weakness. That seems to be something of a recurring theme in the series, I think you will notice. We are not the result of, ahem, one bad day, but rather a series of decisions that reinforce and justify one another. Your character is being formed with each action you take and if you aren't paying enough attention, you might be surprised at what you are making of yourself.
Karlo is, blessedly, suitably Vincent Price-like in demeanor and diction. I was appalled that the voice actor for BTAS' Clayface, who was also supposed to be a great actor, sounded like a dock worker. He also rather Errol Flynn-ish in the action sequences, which, to my surprise, actually gave me goosebumps at certain points. I'm not sharp enough at identify visual elements to know what it was, but there was something about the way it captured the chase and battle between Batman and Clayface that charged my imagination in the same way reading their original confrontation from 1940 did; I was impressed.
I appreciated that Karlo didn't become a scenery-chewing lunatic (as he certainly might have). He simply... adapted to his new role and, oddly, finally seemed comfortable with himself now that his life was ruined.
Well.
That was a lot to take in.
First I will say that to some degree I still retain my overall impression of this series that it's more deja viewing than I would prefer.
Now, I certainly support the series' Golden Age aesthetic; well, it's more than an aesthetic, it's actually the setting, as the 1930s cultural references are intended to make clear. I am pro-Golden Age nostalgia for characters rooted in the Golden Age. It's a bold and clever choice, eschewing the challenge of trying to give Batman a period feel in a modern era.
But I am much less supportive of the elements of the show that, inevitably, feel too familiar from Bruce's Timm's original Batman show ("Batman: The Animated Series", you know, the one that started the convention of calling cartoons "the animated series"). For example, as fine and familiar as people and performers as the likes of John DiMaggio, Tom Kenny, Grey DeLisle, Yuri Lowenthal, et al., are... they are, frankly, TOO familiar and it's distracting when I simply hear THEM and not the characters. Or the character style, which is still, in many cases, more cartoony than I enjoy (although it does seem less so than BTAS).
There is some great character introduction and reinvention going on in the first episode. The good guy standouts were Bruce Wayne's playboy persona and Barbara Gordon's dry-witted public defender (I did a double-take seeing Babs SHOOTING A GUN, but... of course it makes perfect sense; she's the police commissioner's daughter). I appreciate that "good guy" Harvey Bullock is a scumbag on the take, because I still remember that when he was originally introduced in the comics... that's what he was. On the bad guy side....
BOLD CHOICES WERE MADE. And I approved of that.
I didn't know we need a torch-song crooning female version of the Penguin, but... I am glad we have one. And, boy, did that pack an enormous amount into that character in just one episode. The Iceberg Lounge, a legal public persona, a secret crime boss, deadly umbrellas, giant props, off shore weaponry that would make Doctor Domino jealous, a coldness and viciousness that (if heavy-handed) was ... bracing, and a willingness to go-for-broke with a peripitous fall at the end. I don't know whether they EVEN intend to use "Oswalda" again, but if they don't, they have already gotten their money's worth out of her!
Meanwhile, Harvey Dent, it cannot be overemphasized, is a ****. This is an ingenious and novel reinterpretation of the character. The point of every conviction is improving his political credibility, the point of being D.A. is becoming mayor. He cares about no one except as tools to power and it perfectly contextualizes his friendship with Bruce Wayne, who appears to be a vapid member of elite to which he aspires. The idea that is only his disfigurement that teaches him empathy, that his scarred side is in fact his GOOD side, is a master stroke that justifies the whole series, in my opinion.