Superman & Lois - The Perks of Not Being a Wallflower

I was almost ready to comment on how this series is using single-word episode titles, just like "Smallville" did, but now we've got this mouthful playing on a book that was roughly contemporary with that show. It's pretty clunky, but whatever. 

It's nice that this episode gave us a break from the Luthor story, choosing instead to focus on Lois's investigation and some good character moments for the Kents and Lana's family. The mantra that "life is simpler in Smallville" gets an explicit repudiation, some fences are mended, and some new mysterious antagonists are introduced.

Spoilers ahoy! 

Superman & Lois - Heritage

I think I've figured it out. If "Lois & Clark" was "Moonlighting" with super-powers, "Smallville" was "Dawson's Creek" with superpowers, and "Supergirl" started as "The Devil Wears Prada" with superpowers, then "Superman & Lois" is "This Is Us" with superpowers. 

Spoilers ahead!

Two Girls, a Guy, and a Pastoral Place

Whoopsie, went a whole year without posting.

I very much enjoy the Arrowverse shows, even though the only episodes of Arrow I've seen are the crossover tie-ins. Legends of Tomorrow is a constant delight, Black Lightning is incredible, The Flash is good superhero melodrama, and Supergirl is fine. It's fine. It's generally mostly fine. 

Look, Supergirl started out strong on CBS, but since it moved to CW, it's been plagued by recurring problems. The cast is stellar. I love every actor and character on that show. Dreamer is a revelation, and I want to see her ongoing comic series (where maybe her powers will be slightly more clearly developed). 

But the politics? The recent episode dealing with violence against trans women (and trans women of color in particular) was a welcome and refreshing shift in the show's usual tone of Peak Liberal White Feminism. For a show that has its heart so clearly in the right place, tackling real-world issues like internment camps for immigrants and the radicalization of cishet white men into fascist paramilitary organizations, it has also featured a hero who, up until last season, was consistently working with a government organization and adopting center-left approaches that openly demonized actual leftists and ignored intersectionality in favor of a lily-white worldview. 

Buckle in, comrades. This is an anarchist blog now. 

There are other problems as well. The way they derailed the Kara-Jimmy relationship to pair her with Mon-El for a season, then fumbled around to find something to do with his character until he left the show, feels more than a little casually racist. I think there are legitimate queerbaiting complaints to be had about how they've handled the Kara/Lena relationship. Alex's shifting desires and priorities have felt less like character development and more like trying to figure out where she fits in the show now.

There's a lot of good, too, especially with some of this most recent season's course corrections. Killing Dean Cain's character offscreen was a hilarious solution to that unfortunate problem. I appreciated Brainiac-5's evolution that gave him a more comics-accurate Coluan appearance and removed some of the played-out "smart guy doesn't understand emotions" character type. I like that every time Lena says "Non Nocere" it makes me think of standing in a Buffalo Stance.

And I've liked Tyler Hoechlin and Bitsie Tulloch as Superman and Lois Lane, on the occasions where they've appeared. Tulloch isn't my favorite Lois, and I wish Hoechlin's costume had the trunks, but they've been quite good when they've shown up. And, you know, this is the first live-action Superman show with tights and flights and the word "Superman" in the title since 1997. I am, unexepctedly, excited for that. 

Besides that, it's a different take on the characters. Lois gets second billing, but rather than being a will-they/won't-they romantic dramedy, it's centered on Clark and Lois as an established couple and experienced parents of teenagers. Personally, I'd prefer the kids to be younger—Crisis changed their single infant into two teenage boys—but I suppose there are some story and tone reasons to prefer teenage kids. Overall, I think a lot of the choices are really savvy: setting the story in Smallville immediately sets this show apart from urban Supergirl, and the teens who cut their sci-fi melodrama teeth on Clark and Lois and Lex in Smallville are now in their thirties, settling down and having kids of their own. This show has the potential of tapping into that 20-year nostalgia cycle for the mid-2000s.

But...well, my excitement has been dampened somewhat in the lead-up to the premiere. Naturally, there's the stories Nadria Tucker has told about experiences in the writers' room, how they dismissed concerns about racism and sexism, about "#metoo jokes" and the like. There's also the optics; Supergirl is coming to an end next season, and it's hard not to feel weird about the diverse, female-dominated show about found family being more-or-less replaced with the nuclear family show whose principal cast is four white people, three of them dudes. I never really watched the trailer, but the response to it on my social media feed was largely negative (though for whatever reason, my social media feed is heavy on people who apparently aren't happy if Superman's not snapping necks in a rubber suit). On the other hand, I've seen really positive responses from two of the Superman fans I respect the most, Charlotte Finn and David Mann. And that clip of Hoechlin in the Fleischer suit and the Action #1 pose? Yeah, that's pretty cool. 

So I'm not sure what to expect as I finally hit up the ol' TiVo and watch the two-hour Pilot. But I'm about to find out. 

Rocket Trips #8: The Adventures of Superman S01E01 "Superman on Earth" - 1952

"Come with us now on a far journey, a journey that takes us millions of miles from the Earth, where many years ago the planet Krypton burned like a green star in the endless heavens."

Today this series makes its first foray off of the comic page and into the vast multimedia landscape of Superman adaptations. "The Adventures of Superman" followed shows like "The Lone Ranger" and "Dragnet" in making the leap from the radio to the television, and I'd venture to say that nowhere is that more apparent than in this first episode.


Creative Team: Tommy Carr, Robert Maxwell, Whitney Ellsworth, George Reeves, Phyllis Coates, Jack Larson, John Hamilton, Herbert Rawlinson, Stuart Randall, Aline Towne, Frances Morris, Danni Sue Nolan, Tom Fadden, Robert Rockwell, and Jeffrey Silver.

All-Star Summary: Doomed planet. Desperate scientist. Last hope. Courageous couple. 

Key Elements: The distant planet Krypton was home to an advanced civilization of supermen, at the peak of human perfection. The scientist Jor-El has been brought before a council to explain destructive events that have been happening around the planet. He reveals that the planet is doomed to explode in the near future. The Council dismisses his conclusions and warnings as the ravings of a madman, and scoff at his plan to use rockets to evacuate the population to the planet Earth.

Jor-El returns to his lab, where he adds fuel to his model rocket. He plans to test it, and if it arrives on Earth safely, he'll build one large enough to take himself, his wife Lara, and his infant son Kal-El to safety. But when the tremors grow stronger, Jor-El realizes that the planet is in its last moments. The model ship is large enough for one passenger; Jor-El tells Lara to go, but she refuses, saying if any of them are to survive, it should be their child. They put the baby in the rocket and launch it toward Earth, just before Krypton finally explodes.

On Earth, Eben and Sarah Kent see a rocket crash as they are driving down a country road. Eben hears a baby crying inside the flaming ship and rescues it. Neither the child nor his blanket were burned by the fire. The rocket is destroyed, leaving no trace behind. The Kents decide to keep the baby and raise him as their own son, Clark.

As Clark grows, he discovers that he has amazing powers that set him apart from other people, like super-strength, super-speed, and X-ray vision. Ma Kent tells him the story of how they found and rescued him.

When Clark is 25 years old, his father dies of a sudden heart attack. Ma encourages him to leave town for Metropolis, and to use his amazing powers to help people. She even made him an indestructible costume out of the blankets he was wrapped in as a baby. He resolves to keep his identity secret by acting timid and wearing glasses. He takes a job at the Daily Planet, a great metropolitan newspaper, so that he'll be able to learn about emergencies quickly. He meets Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, and Lois Lane, who is immediately suspicious of Clark.

And when emergencies occur, he's there to save the day—as Superman!

Interesting Deviations: Here, it's not the Science Council that hears Jor-El's predictions, but the governing council, meeting in the Temple of Wisdom. The Council specifically commissioned Jor-El's research in this version, which may not be an explicit departure from other origins, but certainly feels like one in spirit.

Krypton's fate is due to its sun drawing the planet closer, which honestly feels more realistic than the usual exploding core. It makes sense for the described disasters like volcanoes and earthquakes to result from changes in tidal forces as Krypton's orbit decays and the sun's gravitational pull exerts a greater influence. How much of that was known in 1952, and how much was just good sci-fi guesswork, I can't say. I also can't say that an explosion is likely to result from this process either, but certainly being torn apart might.

Talking with Lara, Jor-El notes that despite the clouds, there's been a strange glow in the west, and Lara complains about the oppressive heat, asking if it's due to the planet getting closer to the sun. Maybe it's just because it's black-and-white television, but I was immediately reminded of the "Twilight Zone" episode "Midnight Sun," except that aired nine years after this.

One really interesting, minor variation between the different retellings is who Jor-El intends to send in the rocket. Occasionally it's Kal-El from the start, sometimes both Lara and Kal-El. Here, Jor-El initially suggests that Lara go alone, then that the rocket might be large enough for both her and Kal-El, but she refuses both times. "I'd be lost on a new world without you, Jor-El."

The Kents here, as in the radio show's (lost, to my knowledge) second version of the origin and the Kirk Alyn serials, are Eben and Sarah. To my knowledge, these names never made the jump to the comics.

There's a lovely exchange here, where Sarah says "Eben! You can't do nothin', you'll get burned!" and Eben replies "Gotta do somethin'," before throwing dirt at the hatch to put out the fire. If I may read too far into things, Superman's parents in this segment illustrate the two most important aspects of his character: hope even in the bleakest situations, and using whatever power you have to do whatever good you can.

The Kents discuss bringing the child to an orphanage, but decide that nobody would believe their story. Interestingly, this bears a lot of resemblance to how the story would go in the post-Crisis age.

The classic image of Clark demonstrating his powers is lifting a heavy object—often a tractor or a couch—to retrieve a ball. It's interesting, then, that these early versions often go for the X-ray vision instead.

The radio program's second version of the origin story has a part titled "Eben Kent Dies in a Fire," so his heart attack is likely a departure from that story.

We see the name Smallville for the first time in this story at the bus depot. The name's been in the comics since at least 1949, but I'd be interested to know if it had shown up in the serials or radio show before this. Notably, despite "Smallville" being the setting of Superboy's adventures for at least a few years in the comics, there's no indication that Superboy existed in this continuity.

Clark is unable to get an interview with Perry the traditional way, so he tries slipping into Perry's office through the window, using a ledge outside the building. It's a bold move, but maybe not one that suits that whole "mild-mannered" demeanor. An emergency interrupts his impromptu interview—a blimp was unable to land, and now a man is hanging from its cable—and Perry sends Lois and Jimmy to cover it. Notably, he tells them to have a couple of photographers dispatched, which suggests that Jimmy hasn't taken that job yet.

Superman's first rescue is the man who'd been dangling from the rope. In his interview, he says it was a "super-guy," but Clark had already beaten him to the punch with the headline.

Additional Commentary: The opening narration is taken verbatim from the first episode of the radio show, "The Baby from Krypton," and much of what happens on Krypton follows pretty close to the original radio script, including the presence of Ro-Zan and Jor-El's "solar calculations." 

Jor-El, played by Robert Rockwell, looks eerily like Norm Macdonald.

And Lara, Aline Towne, looks pretty sultry.

I think this shot is extremely interesting, given how clear it is that Lara is holding a sack rather than a baby. The blanket fell away to expose the sack as she moved, and she tries to cover it back up in a way that looks natural, but it's interesting to see that this didn't merit another take.

Take a look at that superdrool. When they cut away from this close-up shot, it becomes clear that the baby was probably never even on the Krypton set.

Rockwell and Towne really sell the desperation of the moment.

The baby is not on-hand for the rocket crash scene, as a stunt-sack clearly fills in again. I suppose this was the era before high-definition TVs and pause buttons; if I were watching this on a 12-inch screen via antenna, I probably wouldn't notice the difference. Eventually they do transition to having the baby in the scene.

When twelve-year-old Clark asks why he's different from the other boys, Sarah expresses that she was concerned that he was coming down with the measles. I guess it's nice that that's a relevant concern again.

George Reeves looks very Elvis Presley here.

Angry, shouty Perry White here is pretty clearly a major inspiration for J. Jonah Jameson, and a nice illustration of how, once JJJ exists as the apotheosis of that archetype, Perry is left a little rudderless as a character.

The Rocket: A classic sci-fi rocket, but not much distinctive about it. And it ultimately falls apart like it's made of cardboard. Two exploding Kryptons.

Have you guys heard that I like Superman?

As if you couldn't tell by the two hundred and twenty little daily fanfics, my obsession has become a little...obsession-y, lately. For instance, my go-to show for background noise and entertainment while I work on other things has been the first season of "The Adventures of Superman," what with George Reeves and all. Taking a bit of a break today, I picked up the last disc of season 3 of "Lois & Clark." And I was hit with an interesting bit of synchronicity.

See, I remarked on Twitter about the "Adventures of Superman" episode I watched last night, where Perry took Jimmy on a fishing trip. Maybe I just haven't had those formative relationships with my employers, but I've never been on a fishing trip with anyone I've worked for. Or with. But hey, if Perry wants to take Jimmy under his wing, that's great. It just feels like a detail from a bygone era, real Andy and Opie stuff.

But then I watch this "Lois and Clark" episode, and Perry's handing out assignments. At the end of the spiel, he says that he wants Lois and Clark to get their story in by one, because nothing is going to stop him and Jimmy from going on their fishing trip.

I swear, if the next Superman comic I flip through has Perry and Jimmy on a fishing trip, I might take it as a sign that I need to cut back. Just so you know.

Wait, what?

I like "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," but I was a latecomer to the series, only really starting to watch it in the last several years. I really enjoy it, but I still haven't watched the last two and a half seasons or so. Now that I have both the complete sets of "Buffy" and "Angel," I figure I'll go back and watch both all the way through (with all the appropriate tie-in episodes and whatnot) at some point in the near future, but I haven't gotten around to it yet.

Avoiding the show as I did means I also avoided a great deal of Whedon fandom; my first real encounter with him was "Astonishing X-Men," and I'm pretty sure I watched the entirety of "Firefly" before I saw a single "Buffy" episode. So while I haven't exactly been entirely untainted by spoilers, I've been mostly untainted by prevailing fan opinions.

Which is why I was surprised by a throwaway line in a recent Blog@Newsarama post, referring to Riley as "the character’s most-loathed ex-boyfriend." I actually quite liked Riley, and generally enjoyed the whole Initiative storyline.

So now I'm curious: why is Riley the "most-loathed" of Buffy's boyfriends? Why does he provoke the wrath of Whedonite fandom so much that his getting a one-shot comic is cause for controversy?

And is there any chance that we could see Whedon's proposed TV series prequel about young Giles done as a comic? Has it already been done? Because that would be the thing that gets me buying Buffy comics.

A decent first try

Hey, remember when there was that long stretch with no Doctor Who show, and then they brought it back?

Yeah, not that time. I'm talking that other time. The 1996 time.

The TV Movie holds special significance to to me, because it was almost certainly the very first Doctor Who show I watched on its first airing. It was definitely the first Doctor Who episode I made plans to watch. Plus, I really like Paul McGann as the Doctor, though that's more due to the audio plays than the Fox episode.

The TV Movie is quite flawed, but it's not as terrible as its reputation makes it out to be. Heck, I'm pretty sure I'm more excited to watch it again than "Planet of the Dead," but that's mostly because "Planet of the Dead" is so unmemorable that I recall almost nothing of what happened in it. Say what you will about the TV movie, at least it tried for epic.

Well, if you've been eager to check it out, but unable because of the rights issues that kept it from being released in the US, then I have great news for you: the rights have been cleared up, and a new, snazzy, extras-filled DVD edition should be released sometime in the next year.

I'll be getting it, to be sure, but I was impatient. I picked up a Region 2 copy on Amazon.co.uk a year or so ago.

Finalfly

I really liked "Firefly," and I'm generally the kind of person who pines away forever when a beloved show is cancelled (see: Middleman, JLU, Invisible Man, Eerie Indiana, etc.).

That being said, I don't think I'd want them to bring back "Firefly." And it's all because of "Serenity."

Let's say they picked up where "Serenity" left off: I don't necessarily think the show would be bad, but it certainly wouldn't be the same after the changes "Serenity" made, and I don't think the differences would be for the better. The other option would be to make episodes set before "Serenity," which would always have the Sword of Serenocles hanging above it. Inevitably there'd be winks ahead to what we know is going to happen, and overall it would make the show rather depressing, I think.

Much as I hate to say it, I think we're better off with "Firefly" as a finite entity.




But damn it, bring back the Middleman!

December with the Doctor: Getting Psyched

I've really enjoyed David Tennant's turn as the Doctor. The first episodes I saw of the new series were a few of Tennant's, and I enjoyed his take so much that I was reluctant to even give Eccleston's episodes a shot, being sure that they wouldn't stand up (they did). I've been dreading the end of Tennant's run as the Doctor. It took me months to finally sit down and watch "The Next Doctor," because it was as if that brought me one hour closer to the end of Ten.

But all that has changed recently. I was counting the hours until I could watch "The Waters of Mars," and "The End of Time" can't come soon enough for me. Why the change of attitude? Season Five, that's why.


I was reluctant to accept Matt Smith at first (after all, the first promo shots, with that ridiculous pompadour weren't exactly awe-inspiring) but everything I see from the upcoming series, every semi-spoiler that leaks out, from the return of River Song to the redesigned TARDIS and sonic screwdriver, has me amped up and ready to see what crazy-awesome stuff Steven Moffatt is going to throw at us. I'm sure I'll love "The End of Time"--even if it does end with another patented Russell T. Davies Deus Ex Machina--but at this point I want to get it out of the way so we can move onward and upward.

And hopefully they'll announce a nice, nearby premiere date for Matt Smith's first go-round soon...one that's a little more specific than "Spring 2010."

December with the Doctor: The (Stair)Master

Okay, I'm as excited about "The End of Time" as anyone. I'm really looking forward to David Tennant's last go-round as the Doctor, some more quality time with the Nobles (and hopefully a less depressing end for Donna), and even the return of the Master. I really enjoyed John Simm's take on the character, and I wonder if they'll be regenerating a new version for Matt Smith.

But while some of the latest promo shots have been intriguing and impressive, and while the trailer has me counting down the days, I can't help but be a little underwhelmed by this image:

This doesn't feel like the Master, the menacing villain who traveled from the end of time to conquer Earth with an army of decapitated humans. This doesn't feel like the Master, the megalomaniacal sociopath who once destroyed a sizable portion of the universe. This feels like the Master, a guy who just got done with his Saturday morning jog and is now contemplating breakfast at a coffee shop. This is the Master who has had a bit of a stomach bug the last few days, and so he's using another sick day and just kind of lounging around in sweats. In "The Waters of Mars," we saw the Doctor as the Time Lord Triumphant, it looks as though "The End of Time" will be giving us The Master Unemployed.

I'm still excited about the next episodes, and all, but really...a hoodie?

---

Edit: Forgot to mention: photo courtesy of Blogtor Who.

December with the Doctor: Spin-Offs

A couple of brief thoughts:

• "The Sarah Jane Adventures" is a far better show than "Torchwood." Maybe it's because "Torchwood" rarely feels like it fits comfortably in the Whoniverse, maybe it's because the tone of "SJA" is closer to the tone of the parent series, all I know is that it's just a shame that a great character like Captain Jack has to headline the inferior show. Not that Sarah Jane should be headlining an inferior show; I'd just like "Torchwood" to be better.
  
• And I don't have much hope that the forthcoming 13-episode series of "Torchwood" (is it the third or fourth season? Does "Children of Earth" count as a season?) will be much of an improvement. I mean, the actual Torchwood Three team is down to two members, one of whom is in the family way. Either the season is going to have to have a recruitment drive--which might be interesting, since Gwen started out as the POV character for the uninitiated audience and would now be playing the veteran--or it's going to have a very small pool of people left to kill off in the finale.
  
  Perhaps I'm just a little bitter, but Tosh and Ianto were my favorite non-Jack characters on the show, and I'd really like them not to be dead.
  
• Which is not to say that I can't think of any way for the series to improve. Maybe they could begin the show with finding (and absorbing the members of) the lost Torchwood Four, maybe Martha and Mickey could join up, maybe the larger Torchwood body could demote Jack (for frequently going AWOL and getting the vast majority of his team killed, not to mention allowing a civilian to participate in classified activities) and bring in someone to take charge and create drama (in my dreams, it'd be UNIT transfer from the old series--Mike Yates, Liz Shaw, Jo Grant, or Sgt. Benton). Maybe we could get a sense that there is a larger Torchwood organization, because that really hasn't been present in the series so far.
  
• Seriously, if "SJA" ends without someone--anyone!--making reference to the fact that a main character's name is Rani, I'm going to go nuts. I don't necessarily think that she should turn out to be the Rani, but I definitely think that the name shouldn't go unnoticed. It'd be like naming a character "Cy Lurian" or "Mac Ra." Letting it hang is just frustrating.
  
• I have no desire to watch the new "K-9" series, although I hope it doesn't mean the absence/rumored death of K-9 from the next season of "SJA."

What are your thoughts?

December with the Doctor: Vwhat?

So, in my recent flurry of watching, listening to, and otherwise absorbing all things Whovian, I've purchased a couple of Doctor Who Magazines and I've finally gone back and read the first two IDW miniseries. The quality of the comics therein has been pretty mediocre¹ (though I also got the collection of Grant Morrison stories, so that ought to raise my impressions a bit), but something has really stuck out to me: the TARDIS materialization sound. The onomatopoeia is typically rendered as "Vworp vworp" or "vwaarp vwaarp." Now, I'm all for distinctive sound effects--"snikt," "thwip," "bamf," etc.--but I'm also a little peeved when such sound effects are discarded (see: almost any time any of those has been rendered in film. I mean, is it really that hard to have Wolverine's claws make a metal-sliding-against-metal sound like "snikt"?).

So it's interesting to see the dissonance go in the opposite direction, from film to text. See, here's the TARDIS dematerialization sound:



I don't know about anyone else, but I certainly don't here anything in there that sounds like "vworp." It's certainly a difficult sound to render into text, but listening to it several times, I can't imagine translating it without some e's and probably a ch. "Vreeench" doesn't quite do it...maybe "vreeunnnnch."

But "vworp"?

---

1. This is, of course, excluding The Ten Doctors, which rocks my socks. I'm enjoying The Stalker of Norfolk too.

The Doctor is In!

Seeing as I am a glutton for punishment and self-disappointment, I've decided to do one more theme month before the year is out. The decision came naturally out of my currently-waxing Whovianism, which cut just a little into my Bat-Month posting. I'll admit, there were times when I was paying too little attention to Gotham City and too much attention to "City of Death." On the plus side, this means I have a bunch of things to post about already. And just to be fair, I'll see about working a couple of Batman leftovers in here and there...it'll be like time travel!

So get ready to spend December with the Doctor!

Bat-Month: "The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy"

Let's get this out of the way right off the bat: "The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy" is not a good "Batman: TAS" episode. It's a terrible mishmash of different concepts, none of which really work together, and the plot not only makes very little sense, but comes off making Batman look like an inefficient jerk, while everyone else just looks like an idiot.

I think the biggest problem with the episode is also the reason I decided to review it rather than some more deserving Animated episodes. The plot centers around a villainous scheme to steal Batman's cowl, much like "The Contaminated Cowl." Such a scheme, you'd think, would be a ploy to expose Batman's secret identity, or a manifestation of the Mad Hatter's twisted obsession, but it's neither of those things. But what is clear to me from watching the episode is that this idea--a criminal trying to steal Batman's mask--was the core concept around which the rest of the episode was based.

Sometimes that kind of plot-anchoring concept can work, other times, not so much. Remember when I talked about the various deathtraps in "Almost Got 'Im"? When I said that any plot designed to lead up to such a trap would almost inevitably be silly and disappointing? "The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy" is proof of that.

Take, for instance, the villain of the story, Josiah Wormwood. He's called "The Interrogator," because he's a master of torturing information from his victims with elaborate death-traps. How does he lure victims into these traps? Why, by leaving them clues in the form of rhyming riddles.

Which brings us to our very first problem: Wormwood is a cheap knock-off of the Riddler, who had yet to appear in the series. He uses his riddles and a quicksand trap to catch a diplomatic courier, in order to extract the location of a large cache of bearer bonds.

The theft brings him under police scrutiny, which naturally gets Batman involved. Batman goes after Baron Wacklaw Jozek, one of Wormwood's associates, hoping to find out Wormwood's whereabouts. To this end, Batman abducts the Baron from a society dinner, where he has just started giving a speech, in front of dozens of high-class patrons. I can understand the need for speed and the desire to publicly embarass Jozek, but it seems like it would have been in Batman's best interests to pick up Jozek in a slightly less public venue. He dangles Jozek by the suspenders from a billboard until Batman gets the information he needs.

Shortly thereafter, the Baron calls in Wormwood to offer him a job: steal Batman's cape and cowl. He does this with a poster-sized portrait of Batman, which opens up vast new questions. Wormwood is curious as to the Baron's reasons, so Jozek offers a trade: he'll explain why he wants the cape and cowl if Wormwood tells him about the bearer bonds.

At this point, any mildly intelligent criminal would have been searching Jozek for the wire that he's clearly wearing, but instead Josiah plays coy and agrees to the job. His first attempt to catch Batman--involving an amusement park and a woman tied to train tracks--failed miserably to produce any new headgear. Consequently, he lured Batman to a wax museum--which at this point I believe are frequented more by supervillains than by patrons--where he assaulted him with a hot lamp (to melt the wax, you see) and then some deadly nerve gas. Finally, Batman removed his cape and cowl to give them to Wormwood.

Now, here's a scene that should have been tense and suspenseful. Batman's in the shadows, having removed his mask, and Wormwood is forcing him to step into a spotlight to deposit it! How will he protect his secret identity? As he stepped into the light, the viewer would have seen the unexpected--Batman's wearing another mask underneath! Unfortunately, all that suspense was spoiled long before Batman reached the spotlight, thanks to this image:

Even before Batman reaches the spotlight, it's trivially obvious that he's wearing another mask. A scene that might have brought this episode up from bad to mediocre and memorable, thanks to a stunning example of Batman's foresight, was robbed of all drama by this poor direction, lighting Batman just enough to see the trick.

Wormwood takes the prize back to Jozek, asking again why he wanted them. Jozek reminds him of the quid pro quo agreement, so Wormwood spills the bearer bond beans. Jozek then reveals his reason for wanting the cape and cowl: to wear them! Because he's Batman in disguise!

Naturally, the place was bugged, and Jozek had fled the country after his run-in with Batman. So the police got Wormwood's confession, and after a too-long fistfight, Wormwood got apprehended.

Unfortunately, this episode spectacularly fails the fridge logic test. If the information about these bearer bonds were so important, why waste so much time setting up this overly elaborate cape-and-cowl scheme? If Batman were behind the plan the whole time, why did he defeat Wormwood's first deathtrap? If Wormwood is so intelligent, why didn't he realize that he was being bugged? If Batman knew he was going to get Wormwood to confess--on tape!--then why didn't he have any police standing by, rather than letting Wormwood fight him through the penthouse and its rec center?

But the real nail in the coffin for this episode, as far as I'm concerned, is the thematic one. You have a villain who is expressly said to torture people with deathtraps in order to get information from them, a villain known as "the Interrogator." You have the Batman, who routinely--including in the first act of this very story--puts criminals and informants into potentially life-threatening circumstances in order to make them confess or otherwise give up their information. The thematically satisfying plot would be to have Batman out-interrogate the Interrogator, to pit his own deathtraps against him, and to ultimately turn all of his careful plans back in against him. This doesn't happen--despite being wildly foreshadowed--instead proffering a silly plot about stealing Batman's mask.

Not only does this insanely circuitous plan make Batman look like he's just toying with both his enemies and the police, but his abduction of Jozek and the way he casually belittles Commissioner Gordon when they're examining Wormwood's riddles ("of course! Isn't it obvious?") makes him come across as a bit of a dick.

Overall, "The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy" is a less-than-mediocre episode hampered by its generic, cobbled-together villain. It suffers worse from comparison to better episodes in the same season, featuring the villains who The Interrogator evokes.

Bat-Month: "The Contaminated Cowl"/"The Mad Hatter Runs Afoul"

Consider this part of a trilogy of Bat-Month reviews. I'm breaking from the pattern of looking at early episodes of "Batman"--and specifically villains' first appearances--to take a look at one of the very few episodes of the series that I remember in detail from my childhood. "The Contaminated Cowl"/"The Mad Hatter Runs Afoul" is the Mad Hatter's second outing, from the show's second year. I remember even as a kid thinking it odd that Batman's cowl would turn bright pink when irradiated (after all, aren't radioactive things green and glowing?), and I no longer remember what led up to that particular plot point, except that the Mad Hatter wanted Batman's mask for his hat collection.

As it happens, the only other big plot points I recall from watching the series over a decade ago are Batman playing matador against a bull¹, Batman and Robin being strapped to a giant grill by Catwoman², and the wall-scaling scene where they meet Green Hornet and Kato.

So it'll be interesting to actually see how this story plays out. It opens, strangely enough, with David Wayne's mustachioed Mad Hatter entering Bon-Bon's Box Boutique to buy 700 empty hatboxes. I expect to see all this referenced in an upcoming Grant Morrison story.

Naturally, the Hatter's hat opens to reveal mechanical mesmerizing eyes, which he uses to knock out the shop owner so that he can freely abscond with the...empty boxes.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne presents a Professor with a check for his research with the Gotham City Atomic Energy Laboratories. The meeting is interrupted by a call on the Batphone. Bruce is a little incredulous at the report of 700 hatboxes being stolen from Bon-Bon's Box Boutique. Surprisingly enough, Gotham's finest actually know who the culprit is this time, and note that the Hatter escaped from the prison during a softball game. Will Warden Crichton never learn?

Batman and Robin have a largely uneventful and unhelpful meeting with Gordon and O'Hara, then leave for the Batcave to do some pondering. After their departure, Commissioner Gordon becomes surprisingly self-aware:

Gordon: Looking back, Chief O'Hara, it's hard to remember how we operated at all before those two masked samaritans appeared on the scene.
O'Hara: It's not hard for me to remember, Commissioner: things were a mess!

I'll bet they were, Chief O'Hara. How many crimes went unsolved while Gotham cops fruitlessly contemplated the difference between their posteriors and holes in the ground?

The Mad Hatter is packing up his hat collection, musing over the crazy adventures that led to these trophies. He talks a bit about the cap stolen from a British Royal Guard, mentioning that the King ordered his execution. Sometimes, since Elizabeth II has been queen longer than I (or my parents, for that matter) have been alive, I forget that there was a King in the relatively recent past.

The Hatter has decided to box his hats because stealing them has lost its luster. Of course, this doesn't mean he's going straight--after all, he still hasn't stolen Batman's cowl--but he's also going to change his modus operandi, using hats to steal instead. His assistant, Polly, doesn't understand what that means, but the Hatter isn't going to explain it very well. Somehow it involves a headdress ball, a ruby, a spray-gun full of radioactive material, and a water tower are involved. This is going to be the most complicated game of Clue ever.

Batman discusses the Headdress Ball with Robin, noting that it's being held by Hattie Hatfield, owner of the Hatfield Ruby, which will be held in her headdress. Presumably, this is all happening at the Hatfield Hilton in the Hat district, and it's being held as a charity benefit fer Dora.

Oh, it's in the Top Hat Room? I never would have guessed. The Hatter is planning on infiltrating the Headdress Ball as some sort of fez-wearing foreign military leader. In the meantime, Batman and Robin climb up the sheer glass wall, and Batman dryly remarks that "people in glass hotels shouldn't throw parties." Oh Batman, you card.

At the party, Hatter's assistant is working the hat check table, which firstly seems unnecessary at a party devoted to the wearing of hats, and secondly makes one wonder, if Hatter could get one mole into the party, why he needed the Pasha disguise at all. I guess it allows him to get closer to the ruby he's trying to steal.

Batman and Robin enter through the window, spot the Mad Hatter, and decide to sneak around for a closer look. Despite not being concealed by anything at all, and despite wearing their gaudy costumes, Batman is certain that they'll be unnoticed.

He then promptly bumps into a serving cart. Ladies and gentlemen, the Dark Knight.

All the servers acknowledge Batman and Robin's presence, but remain quiet about it. I can't help but wonder if Batman has formed a branch of Project Mayhem in Gotham, full of civilians who are secretly loyal to the Bat. Or perhaps it's more like the Shadow's organization. Or maybe Batman just tips really well.

Oh, nevermind, they're also working for Mad Hatter. Again, with this kind of penetration into the party, why bother with the masquerade? Hatter has more than enough henchmen here to cow the high society types into compliance, and he has a hat that can hypnotize people! This isn't even a "why doesn't the Joker just shoot Batman" kind of question, really, it's a "why isn't the supervillain making use of his considerable supervillain resources in a typically supervillainous way" question.

Oh well, it leads to a fight where henchmen get pied.

Repeatedly.

So, that's cool. Anyway, the Mad Hatter tosses his fez, which releases some kind of gas. He also reveals the dire consequences of a life of hat-related villainy: terrible hat hair.

The smoking fez gives him the perfect opportunity to whip out his perfume atomizer full of radioactive spray, which he uses to mace Batman's cowl. Hatter beats a hasty retreat, and Batman's mask becomes almost neon pink, something which wouldn't happen again until the "Batman Forever" toyline.

Batman explains that the color change is due to a form of virulent radiation; I'm just curious why it didn't affect any of the rest of his costume. That's some well-targeted spray. He suggests heading back to the Batcave "before it is too late," which I imagine means "before I get face cancer."

Back at the Batcave, Alfred informs him that all the other cowls are in the "Home Dry Bat Cleaning Plant," if I heard that right, and won't be ready for at least a couple of hours. Naturally, then, Batman continues to wear his radioactive cowl. Oh no, the face cancer has metastasized to his brain, it's too late.

Actually, he's just confident that the anti-radiation bat-pill he took will last him at least a little longer. While you add that to the list of technology that Bruce Wayne is maliciously withholding from the world at large, you may also consider that it'd still be a good idea to take the mask off. This is the equivalent of repeatedly shooting yourself in the chest because you're confident that your bulletproof vest can take a little more punishment.

Batman needs a cowl so he can catch the Mad Hatter, so he instructs Alfred to turn the cleaner from "full maximum" to "super instant," which I assume is the dryer equivalent of "it goes to eleven." Were this a sitcom, I'd expect the cowls to come out tiny-sized, while suds slowly fill the Batcave.

Batman decides that he should put in a call--as Bruce Wayne--to the scientist he funded earlier in the story. Incidentally, for all the incredible technology in the Batcave, from anti-radiation pills to a dry cleaner, one thing he doesn't have is a touch-tone phone. Batman rotary dials the Atomic Energy Laboratory, and one spinning logo later, Batman is at the building for decontamination. Professor Overbeck is pessimistic about the possibility of cleaning the cowl. He offers this stunning explanation about the state of nuclear physics in 1967, in a thick nonspecific European accent of course:

Professor Overbeck: So little is known about this radioactivity of radioactive agents. So little is known that we only know one thing: that eventually, they are deadly.

I could spend days talking about what's wrong with that statement. Suffice it to say that I think the Wayne Foundation is seriously wasting its money.

Batman fears that the effects of the anti-radiation pill are wearing off, but thankfully the Professor's assistant--actually, the Mad Hatter in a radiation suit, who has knocked out the real assistant--has brought a spare suit and apparently a lead hatbox for the Dark Knight. Knowing that he wouldn't want to reveal his secret identity, the professor has helpfully set up a changing screen. As Batman goes to change, Robin asks if he needs any help.

...No comment.

Batman hands over the radioactive mask, which the Hatter gladly steals.

Robin tries to stop him, but is foiled by a single kick to the shin. I'd criticize the Boy Wonder's apparent wussiness, but I guess he hasn't yet thought to armor-plate his pantyhose.

Batman comes skipping out from behind the changing screen, wearing another cowl.

He and Robin chase after the Hatter, and find him, with his henchmen, having declared a rather premature victory. Seriously, one of the henchmen says that this is the end of crimefighting in Gotham City, which means that apparently none of them think it's possible that Batman would have more than one costume--or the ability to make another mask.

Hatter thinks that it must be a trick, that this can't be Batman. Perhaps his hat's on a little too tight; a man who owns hundreds of kinds of hats is surprised that another man would own two?

And yet, for some reason, Robin still tries to retrieve the cowl. Dude, let it go. Not only is it the only superhero mask in history that is likely to make you sterile and give you cancer, but it can't be all that expensive. If owning Batman's pink carcinogenic cowl is enough to cause the Mad Hatter to give up his criminal ways, then let the dude have it.

But instead, Batman warns Robin that the cowl is contaminated, and the thugs attack. Quickly overpowering the Duo, Hatter's henchmen trap them in a high-voltage X-Ray chamber, with doors that only push in from the outside. This seems like a rather serious design flaw; I hope Bruce Wayne puts a stop on that check to the Atomic Energy Laboratory. I also hope he thought to bring extra anti-radiation capsules.

Professor Overbeck, whose fake accent makes him very hard to understand, says something about how Batman and Robin will be "X-Rayed forever" and irradiated in a matter of seconds. Again, the Professor's understanding of radiation is sorely lacking. Thankfully, the Hatter zaps him with his knockout hat and leaves Batman and Robin to their radioactive fate. All because they couldn't just let him keep the cancer-mask.

Interestingly, the second episode's introductory recap is a lot more cursory than those in the first few episodes. We get a shot of Batman and Robin in the fluoroscope cabinet and an explanation of what this trap signifies, but nothing about what led up to that point, while the recaps for the previously-reviewed episodes gave us a series of shots from throughout the show and dramatic descriptions of what went on. This is less time-consuming, sure, but I wonder what prompted it.

After the theme song, we're treated to this interesting sight:

I find it strangely significant that Batman and Robin's underwear is more resistant to radioactive bombardment than either their tights or their flesh. Also, I'm reminded of the cover to Superman #66.

The Hatter returns to the scene of the crime, where Polly, his top-hatted henchgirl, is shocked by the sight of the Bat-skeletons. She thinks Hatter has gone too far this time, which I'm sure won't come back to bite him in the butt later on. The Hatter is convinced of the Dynamic Duo's demise, so he thinks the rest of his caper will be a picnic.

Polly: A picnic? At a time like this?

A henchman points out that Hatter could have picked up another cowl from the Bat-corpse, but he feels that the one he tricked Batman out of earlier would suffice.

Commissioner Gordon gets the fateful phone call, and claims that he refuses to believe it, but has an emotional breakdown as he relays the news to Chief O'Hara.

At the White House, an old timey phone operator is shocked to hear the news, and implies that the President will fly to Gotham City as soon as he hears. The same scene plays out in London and Moscow before we return to the Atomic Energy Laboratory, where a very much alive Batman and Robin thank Professor Overbeck for his assistance. See, Batman had a Bat-X-Ray Deflector in his utility belt.

He also happened to be wearing another cowl under his contaminated one, and had an entire spare costume in the Batmobile, which they draped across a couple of Professor Overbeck's display skeletons.

At the Mad Hatter's hideout, he comments that Batman and Robin were clever to put a tracking device in the contaminated cowl, but he found it and placed it in a water tower. Apparently he's not quite as confident in their deaths as he seemed. Polly is surprised by his inconsistent tactics--why hide the tracker if Batman and Robin are dead?

Polly: Jervis, you sound like the Joker or the Puzzler, or even the Riddler!

Jervis figures that the discovery of Batman and Robin's bodies will involve the police, and he doesn't want there to be anything which leads to him until after he finishes his plan, which has something to do with replacing the ruby in a Buddha's forehead with the cheap replica he stole from Hattie Hatfield's headdress.

Hatter's henchmen rush in to tell the boss that the whole town is shutting down, due to the discovery of Batman and Robin's deaths. "The whole town's at half-mast." Once again, this provokes some trepidation from Polly, and I think the Hatter's response is quite entertaining:

Mad Hatter: Now don't go soft on me, Polly! Who made Batman and Robin famous crimefighters? Criminals, that's who! If you want to show a little respect to the departed, stay crooked! It's the least you could do!

Now that's persuasive.

Back at Wayne Manor, Aunt Harriet muses about how communities come together during times of tragedy. Alfred is wearing a black armband of mourning, and Bruce and Dick are...standing around looking awkward. A large crowd has gathered outside the mansion, knowing that Batman was friends with Bruce Wayne. Bruce tries obliquely to convince Harriet that Batman and Robin are still alive, but she won't have any of it. She talked to Professor Overbeck himself, and he wouldn't lie, right? Eventually, we're led to this:

Bruce: Dick, um, perhaps you and I should have a moment alone in my study.
Dick: I think so, Bruce.
Aunt Harriet: Oh, that's a beautiful way for you to express your respects.

AUNT HARRIET KNOWS.

In the study, Bruce dramatically picks up the Bat-Phone. On the other end, Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara are staring out at a crowd of thousands of mourners, when the phone rings. O'Hara suspects a Twilight Zone-esque call from beyond the grave, but Gordon knows they aren't buried yet. A call from the fluoroscopic cabinet then, I guess. They answer the phone, and receive the obvious Mark Twain quote from the Caped Crusader. He explains that he and Robin are "about to nail the Mad Hatter,"³ which prompts this response:

Commissioner Gordon: The Mad Hatter? At a time like this, who cares about that pipsqueak's inconsequential crimes?

Yes, that's right, the GCPD officially stops caring about crime just as soon as they learn of a vigilante's resurrection. Ladies and gentlemen, your Gotham City Police Commissioner.

After Bruce gives Commissioner Gordon a brief lecture on law enforcement and the social contract, he and Dick head to the Bat-Poles.

While Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara rush to call the President, the Mad Hatter is out to steal the ruby, which he does with little fanfare. Unfortunately, Polly rushes up to spoil the mood.

Polly: I was down at the hat-check stand, checking no hats, and guess what I heard: Batman and Robin are alive!

The Hatter is understandably annoyed, but he needn't worry: Batman and Robin are just chilling in the Batcave, apparently trying to puzzle out what to do next.

Batman: Mad Hatter has to be someplace with that contaminated cowl. Ergo...

Robin: Ergo.

Batman: Ergo, the small bug I tucked in the cowl has to be someplace too.

That's some nice deductive logic, there, Batman, but I'm not sure it's helping. Especially since Robin's expression (and tone of voice) and Batman's weary rubbing at his eyes suggests that they've been over this same line of reasoning multiple times. This little bit is one of those great, subtle character moments that I think get overlooked in general assessments of the show.

There's a beeping on...something, but it's clearly from the bug, and it appears to be underwater. After a quick jaunt to the Bat-Computer, they locate the bug at a water tower behind an abandoned Green Derby restaurant. About that time, Commissioner Gordon calls with news of the ruby swap. It seems like they noticed the exchanged jewels abnormally quickly; I wonder how they realized it wasn't the real thing--or that they even needed to check. I guess it's to speed the plot along, really.

Batman and Robin arrive at the Green Derby, where they encounter Polly, who plays naïve about the Mad Hatter. Her terrible lying is exposed when Batman sees the radioactive cowl lying on the floor--and when they see Hatter and his crew climbing up to the water tower out back. Batman explains that Hatter's exposure to the lethal radioactive elements in the cowl means he needs immediate medical attention, which is pretty magnanimous on his part. It'd be more magnanimous if he'd mass-produced his anti-radiation pills, but I'll take my victories where I can get them.

For some reason, Batman and Robin allow Polly to lead the way to the water tower, which seems a little stupid on their parts. Speaking of parts, I'm seeing just a little more of Adam West than I'm comfortable with.

Batman and Robin ascend the ladder, but Hatter is confident that he'll just whammy them with the mesmerizing device in his hat...which promptly blows away. I think I finally understand the fatal flaw underlying the Mad Hatter's weaponry.

Plan B seems to be to assemble the rest of the gang on the walkway, allowing them to attack in a handy, one-at-a-time fashion.

The fight is pretty slick; in fact, you might suspect that it was done with Teflon, or perhaps some kind of spray-on agent...

Yeah, that's the stuff. Thanks, ridiculous sound effect!

The fight's pretty cool, and I suspect that by this point in the second season they were looking for ways to spice up the usual warehouse-battle scenes. Consequently, there are some neat places where Batman's getting strangled while dangling partway off the walkway and such, until the police show up. Hatter climbs further up the water tower ladder, to no apparent benefit. Weren't they adapting this into a deathtrap of some sort in the previous installment? Whatever happened to that plot point?

The Dynamic Duo decide to leave the whole arresting bit to the police, and start to leave, pausing only a moment to wave at the rapidly-assembled multitudes of people cheering their apparent resurrection.

Back at the Manor, Aunt Harriet opens up her thesaurus to ask a pointed question of Bruce and Dick, who appear to be examining a seahorse on a stick:

Aunt Harriet: How did you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Batman and Robin were alive, when the whole world thought they were dead?

Bruce: Yes, well I um...eh,

Aunt Harriet: Or you, Dick. You were equally emphatic.

Dick: Well, Aunt Harriet, you see, I uh...I...

Alfred suggests that it's time that they tell the truth, then effortlessly spins a tale about an easily-confused friend whose husband works at the Atomic Energy Laboratory.

The episode ends, then, with Aunt Harriet's uncritical acceptance of this story, and a sappy note about how Batman and Robin must now know how much the world loves them. Yay!

Overall, it wasn't as bad as I expected. There are some strange plot holes and dropped threads, and the pacing feels really weird, but those are relatively heady criticisms of a story that I expected to be utter crap. I guess the biggest problem was with the whole "Batman and Robin are dead" subplot, which largely occurred around the periphery of the story and never had much direct effect on the story itself. Such a monumental event deserves a little more attention, both from the story and from the characters involved. So, altogether this wasn't quite the caliber of episode that I've come to expect from those early installments, but it still managed some good character work and jokes, and had the thread of a good idea running through it.

Bonus: Hey, Batman Sound Effects, who's your favorite character from "Death of a Salesman"?

---

1. He successfully uses his blue cape to lure it, while noting (fairly accurately) that it's the cape's motion, not the color red, which entices them, because bulls are color-blind. They're technically red-green color blind, but I'll give Batman a "close enough."

2.Prompting this excellently punny exchange:

Robin: Holy oleo!
Catwoman:: I didn't know you could yodel.

3. Stop laughing!

Bat-Month: "Mad as a Hatter"

Oh, hey, it's a Batman: TAS episode about date rape!

Which, I guess, is better for the Mad Hatter than various comic insinuations that he's a pedophile or a...chapeauphile.

I really enjoy this version of the Mad Hatter, and I think Roddy McDowall made the perfect voice actor for the character. Sure, I'm a fan of Gail Simone's deranged version in "Secret Six," but I think the "diminutive bizarrely perverted mind-controlling supervillain niche" is already filled by Dr. Psycho. Jeph Loeb's version has never made much sense to me, partnered with the Scarecrow as the two personality-free villains who constantly talk in verse and quotations. At least the quotes make some sense for Hatter; that version of Scarecrow is just weird.

The problem with most of those versions is twofold: first, Gotham City, for whatever reason, is teeming with insane criminals patterned after Alice in Wonderland characters--Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the Wonderland Gang, Humpty Dumpty, and now the White Queen--so it's easy to strip Jervis of the traits which make him stand out as an individual. Second, the foremost of those individual traits is that he has various devices which allow him to control people's minds, and when you turn him into someone so insane that he can no longer speak except in Carroll quotations, then you make him seem like someone who could never have developed such technology.

So the Animated Series, as it so often does, strikes a balance: Jervis Tetch is a nerdy scientist, and Alice in Wonderland is his favorite story (so he quotes it occasionally) and has mind control cards which are connected to a headband. He conceals the latter in a hat and, for flair, puts the Hatter's fractions on the cards. And then he woos a co-worker named Alice by mind-controlling everyone they come in contact with, providing the perfect date.

And the date actually is pretty thoughtful. Sure, it's clearly a "perfect date" concept that has been rattling around in Tetch's mind for a long time--dinner at a fancy restaurant with VIP treatment, an after-hours trip to an amusement park (with an Alice in Wonderland-themed exhibit), and even a dance. There's always the sinister undercurrent--the mind-control cards in everyone's hats or hair, illustrating the lengths to which Tetch has gone to ensure that nothing goes wrong. Knowing that Tetch is the kind of person who would even consider mental enslavement as an acceptable alternative to mild embarrassment paints him as somewhat unhinged, but he's clearly not malicious or harmful...yet.

But this kind of personality is teetering on the edge of violence, and when Jervis finds out that Alice has forgiven her boyfriend--and accepted a marriage proposal--he goes a little over the edge.

And so the situation escalates until Batman is fighting a mind-controlled army of Carroll-inspired thugs in the Storybook Land Amusement Park, while Alice sits as a glassy-eyed puppet through the whole battle.

The episode ends, fittingly enough, with the Hatter trapped under a fallen Jabberwock sculpture, while Alice is happily reunited with her fiancé. The reunion bit wasn't entirely necessary--Alice and Billy weren't particularly three-dimensional characters--but it's a nice moment, made all the more symbolic by the fact that their happily ever after rescue happens in the Storybook Land park.

In any case, this is probably the best episode about the Mad Hatter. It does for Jervis what the Animated Series tended to do so well, providing villains with sympathetic backstories and moderately comprehensible motivations. It's not the best episode to feature Hatter, however, and I'll see about getting to that one in the near future.