Bat-Month: "Mayhem of the Music Meister"

I'd thought about liveblogging this installment of Batman: The Brave and the Bold, but that would take too much of my attention away from the episode. So instead I wrote on the commercials.

I've only seen a handful of episodes of the series so far; while I seriously enjoy its less serious take on the Dark Knight and its unabashed love of the DCU, I rarely seem to find it when it's on. And when I do, it's always the first episode with Blue Beetle or Red Tornado, or the "Incredible Journey" one with Aquaman and Atom. I've seen maybe five episodes outside of that, but when I found out that the musical episode with Neil Patrick Harris was going to air when I could watch it--and during Bat-Month no less!--I couldn't resist.

I'm going to restrict the commentary to moments and thoughts, avoiding plot summary as much as I can. You should watch it yourself; it was a blast.

So, I'd seen episodes with Green Arrow and Aquaman before, but this was my first exposure to BatB's version of Black Canary--who I didn't know had even appeared in the show before. She's one corner of a love...well, it's not even a love polygon, and I'd prefer not to draw a diagram at the moment, but she's got an unrequited crush on Batman, which is a romantic pairing that I hadn't thought about before. Somehow, despite being a comic geek and ostensibly a fan of both Black Canary and Green Arrow, I didn't consider why I'd never thought of that pairing before.

There is nothing quite like seeing Aquaman and Grodd waltzing. It's like the Silver Age coming to life.

The villain of the piece (well, aside from cameos) is the Music Meister, who is kind of a combination of the Fiddler and Pied Piper--which makes it a little sad/strange that the Flash didn't show up in this episode. He can control people's minds by singing, and wields a staff that seems to be based on the musical weapons of Bluegrass and Melodia.

There's a great scene when Batman shows up (on the Bat-Gyro¹, no less!) where those under the Music Meister's thrall approach him while snapping in the classic "West Side Story" style.

Arkham Asylum makes an appearance, looking surprisingly similar to how it looked in the old Animated Series--I'm pretty sure even the jagged font on the gate is the same.

The song set (largely) in Arkham also manages to mention the Batusi and Shark Repellent. Fantastic.

Black Canary has a ballad about her love for Batman--which is interrupted by Music Meister's ballad about his love for Black Canary--that reminds me quite a bit (something about the scansion and tune) of "I'm Not a Killer" from "Evil Dead: The Musical." It kind of makes me want to compare the writing/composing staffs for both shows.

While Batman and Black Canary are trapped in Music Meister's deathtrap, the walls are covered with band stickers and posters, all named after DC properties. They range from the obvious (Metal Men) to the obscure (Inferior 5) to the surprising (Trenchcoat Brigade). I wish I'd been able to get down more; it's a reason for freeze-frame when the show makes it to DVD. Speaking of which, the DVD release schedule for this series is really obnoxious--three-plus volumes of four episodes each, with no season set on the horizon? That's ridiculous.

This episode contains the only use of the word "unfurled" in song that I've ever heard outside of the Pinky and the Brain theme song.

I won't spoil the climax, but I'll tell you that it contains a line that I don't think anyone ever expected to hear Batman say.

Don't tell Jay-Z, but even Batman uses auto-tune. Specifically, a "Bat auto-tuning amplifier." Now, since Jay-Z compares himself to Superman, what does this mean for the World's Finest team? Or does Batman keep the auto-tune in the same way that he holds onto the kryptonite ring, as a failsafe?

Getting back to my sudden fan amnesia, the episode ends with Black Canary lamenting her unrequited love, as Green Arrow shows up to declare his own crush on her. And so she settles for a cheerful Batman knock-off, which is funny on a variety of levels.

Bottom line: it was a fun episode, though I wish Batman had gotten a song instead of just an operatic warm-up. After all, we already know he can sing:

But I hope they're just saving that for a sequel.

---

1. Which I assume is made from a mix of bat-beef and bat-lamb, placed on a bat-pita with bat-tzatziki sauce.

Bat-Month: Bromance

One thing I forgot to mention in the last post is another viable possibility¹, a gay/bi Batman. Despite the jokes, I don't think there's any existing--or at least active or recent\--continuity where the evidence supports a gay Batman. It's something I'd be interested in reading (or writing, for that matter) as an Elseworlds or Earth-Whatever story.

In particular, I'm imagining a long-term (but ultimately not permanent) relationship between Batman and Superman (and before anyone mentions it, I'm aware of Midnighter and Apollo, but what I've read of The Authority hasn't really made me interested in reading more). It'd be an interesting mirror to modern portrayals of the World's Finest team, where despite initially distrusting each other and disliking each other's methods, they grow closer and forge a strong, solid friendship. In my scenario, they meet "on the job," and initiate the romantic relationship at the outset. The relationship would persist over the years, waxing and waning a bit in intensity, but ultimately ending with the duo having grown too far apart, having become too different to maintain the pairing. It wouldn't be a bitter ending--I don't think Justice League meetings would be particularly awkward--but it'd be an ending.

One interesting theme I think a story like that could explore would be the complicated politics of superhero dating--and the superhero "closet." It's one thing for people to realize (whether or not it was intentionally made public) that Batman and Superman were lovers; it's quite another for billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne to suddenly start dating farm-raised reporter Clark Kent. I think both would perceive the need to keep their relationship secret in order to preserve the masquerade. This would naturally cause tension, which would be a major contributing factor to the breakup.

There could be other intriguing elements as well...would this universe have a Robin? I envision a scene--a scene which ultimately leads to the "we need to keep this relationship a secret" talk--where Bruce and Clark are at the circus together, and Superman appears just in time to save the Graysons from falling to their deaths. Superman's sudden appearance in Gotham would raise questions, and with the papparazzi constantly hounding Bruce Wayne, it'd only be a matter of time before someone put the pieces together. Lois Lane's role in the story would necessarily be altered; while I think it'd be easy enough for her and Clark to develop the same friendly rivalry, once the news came out that Superman was the last homosexual of Krypton, I can imagine her putting the pieces of his identity together relatively quickly--unfettered by the blinders of unrequited love. Maybe there'd be the threat of a Lana Lang--or Pete Ross--tell-all book, revealing all of Clark's secrets to the public.

The more I think about this, the more ideas I get, and the more interesting I think this story could be. I guess this is how people become slash fic writers.

---

1. There's also the possibility that Batman is asexual, which again I don't think is
borne out by the evidence. It also would make the last couple of posts relatively short.

Bat-Month: Romancing the Bat

Weighing in on my own question, there's only one romantic interest I can see for Batman¹: Catwoman. I suppose it's a bit pedestrian, but I think they belong together. In fact, about the only good thing to come out of "Hush" was the strengthening of their relationship and Selina learning Batman's identity. Hell, I was even able to swallow the most ridiculous aspects of "Heart of Hush"--including giving Hush a backstory that made him into Kenny Braverman--because of the Bat/Cat 'shipping.

But let me briefly run through my reasoning.

• Vicky Vale, Jezebel Jet, Silver St. Fox: In other words, the normal people. I don't see any of these relationships working out, largely because they start with Bruce Wayne. I'm a firm believer in the school of Bat-thought that Batman is the real identity and Bruce Wayne is the disguise, so these relationships are all ultimately built on lies. Besides that, with any civilian, the basic problem is that they'll never really be part of his vigilante life, even if they discover his identity. They'll end up living the life of the cliché superhero spouse, the one always compared to police officer's and firefighters' wives and husbands, waiting up late hoping that he'll come home safe. Except with Batman, the stakes are a little higher (given the kind of scrapes he gets into) and the nights are far later (methinks Mrs. Bruce Wayne wouldn't sleep often. If at all). No, the only Bat-relationship that could work is one that incorporates both vigilantism and millionaire playboyism, with the focus on the former.
  
• Talia al Ghul: Let's break this one down. Pros: mother of Batman's son, accepts Batman's double-life, no pesky civilian life to get in the way, intellect to match the World's Greatest Detective's. Cons: evil, willing and repeated accessory to genocide, crazy in-laws. Next.
  
• Zatanna Zatara: I'll admit, Zatanna is tough for me. I love the B:TAS episode she appears in, and I've enjoyed all their back-and-forth in Dini's "Detective" issues. My only real problem with the two of them is Batman's frequently-avowed dislike and distrust of magic. While it would be interesting, I don't think the world's most rational², self-driven person would be able to stand being with a woman so steeped in magic and the supernatural.
  
• Catwoman: Another driven vigilante, another person who can mix in high society (though also as a disguise), another strong personality with particular obsessive tendencies...about the only dissonance I really see between Batman and Catwoman is her dalliances on the wrong side of the law and her more flexible sense of morality (e.g., killing when necessary, such as with Black Mask) causing friction, and that's certainly a concern. Whether or not Batman's crushing loneliness and quest for family would permit forgiveness somewhat depends on the writer.

---

1. For the comic continuity, anyway. If we're talking about the Animated Universe, I'd say Wonder Woman--I thought their relationship (much like John and Shayera's) developed really well and really naturally.
2. Presupposing a world where "dressing up as a bat to fight crime as a way of coping with death" is a rational decision.

Bat-Month: "Fine Feathered Finks"/"The Penguin's a Jinx"

Continuing my reviews of classic "Batman" episodes, I bring you some thoughts regarding the Penguin's debut two-parter.

---

First, it seems that opening the show with Dick taking some kind of lesson, finding it pointless, and being admonished by Bruce that it's key to world peace, is a theme (or a running gag). This time, it's French.

---

We're introduced to Warden Crichton and his "progressive penology" here. They keep harping on the word "progressive," while also showing how silly (and ineffective) the Warden's policies have been. I suspect a subtle political subtext.

In this case, Crichton's policies include allowing criminals to wear their civvies the week before they're released, to better acclimate them to normal society, and secretly videotaping them in their cells. Now, the former is kind of strange, but the latter seems to me to be a gross violation of civil rights. Even a criminal like the Penguin still has rights, and if I were Oswald, I'd be phoning my local ACLU and Amnesty International chapters as soon as I walked out of the penitentiary grounds.

It's interesting to note that the show--intentionally or otherwise--exposes the problem with constant surveillance (one which persists to this very day). Even though this tape is days old, and even though it shows the Penguin plotting his first post-release crimes--which he has already started committing--it's clear that no one has watched it. Big Brother is watching, but he only has so many eyes.

---

Robin wonders aloud why they're even releasing the Penguin, and both the Warden and Commissioner Gordon are taken aback. "Ours is a rule of law, Boy Wonder," says Gordon. "When a man has paid his debt to society, he must be released." Poor Robin; with everyone from Aunt Harriet to Commissioner Gordon constantly scolding him, it's clear that he's the show's very own Wesley Crusher.

---

Speaking of Commissioner Gordon, there's another fine example of Gotham City's tax dollars at work. Since they know the Penguin's plan involves umbrellas, Batman suggests they start by looking for any umbrella factories that have opened in the last three days. Now, I can think of several ways of obtaining large quantities of umbrellas quickly that would be better than opening an umbrella factory, but I guess that's why I'm not the World's Greatest Detective.

Anyway, after they've pored over the city records for a whole commercial break, Commissioner Gordon comes back with this gem:

Gordon: Three new umbrella factories, none of them unfortunately in the name of Penguin. It's a dead end!

Ladies and gentlemen, your Gotham City Police Department.

I don't know what's more surprising: that Gordon expects a criminal to open up a front in his own name, or that the umbrella industry in Gotham City is so booming that it can support three factories in the last three days alone! What, is the rainy season approaching?

It gets worse:

Robin: Could he be using an alias?

Batman: Good thinking, Robin!

Ladies and gentlemen, the World's Greatest Detective.

---

The Penguin's scheme here is actually very clever. He's going to release a bunch of senseless umbrellas into the city, then let Batman draw connections between them, thus planning his crime for him! It'd be ingenious if it weren't for the fact that Batman would necessarily know about the crimes before the Penguin was going to commit them, which ought to make it really easy to get caught. But otherwise, a crime wave by way of pareidolia? Good show, Mr. Cobblepot.

---

Penguin is really impressing me here. Batman decides to bug the Penguin's factory, in order to discover his real plans, but goes as Bruce Wayne, so he'll be incognito. No sooner has he placed the bug, when an alarm sounds and a net drops on him. Two of Penguin's goons come out of the back room to restrain him while Penguin knocks him out with some gas from his umbrella, mentioning how glad he was to have put an anti-bugging system in. The Penguin is turning out to be a genuine mastermind here.

---

And this is basically how the first episode ends, with an unconscious Bruce Wayne, mistaken for a rival umbrella company's industrial espionage agent (what the hell is going on with Gotham's umbrella industry?), tied up and placed on a slow-moving conveyor belt heading for the furnace they use to forge the umbrella core and spokes.

---

Naturally, Bruce escapes. He returns to the Batcave, where he and Robin continue trying to puzzle out the Penguin's latest scheme. Back at the umbrella factory, though, the Penguin remains one step ahead. The umbrella that the Dynamic Duo has been examining--the one most clearly styled as a clue--is itself a bug, allowing the Penguin to eavesdrop on Batman and Robin's investigation!

Which brings up several questions: if the Penguin is this smart, how does he ever get caught? Why doesn't the Batcave have an anti-bug system like the Penguin's hideout? How can a series deconstruct itself in the second story?

I have seriously underestimated both the Penguin and this series.

---

Batman and Robin, true to Penguin's predictions, deduce that Penguin's planning to kidnap a movie star, and discuss in detail how he plans to do it. The Penguin decides to give the Batman a little surprise when he arrives.

Incidentally, Batman calls Robin "old man" periodically. It's an interesting nickname, and one that, just by existing, lends some depth to their relationship.

---

We cut to the starlet's penthouse (at the Pelican Arms), where she's doing a sultry photo shoot on a pink shag rug in a gold jumpsuit for "Funboy" magazine. Oooh, racy.

---

Batman, having not yet developed the grapple gun, has to use the Batzooka to fire a grappling hook up to the penthouse window. It's about as stealthy as it sounds like it would be. The heroes warn Dawn Robbins about the kidnapping plot, then plan a trap for the Penguin. Eventually, the Penguin--who's been watching the whole scene--enters the room and knocks out Dawn and her agent with some knockout gas. Batman and Robin enter with gas masks, but the Penguin's still a step ahead, having rigged an electromagnet which pulls the Dynamic Duo inexorably toward the wall by attracting their utility belts. And there is no way this scene could be filmed without looking ten kinds of wrong:

So the kidnapping goes off, just as Batman planned, while he and Robin struggle to remove their belts. We find out the next day how they managed to escape:

Robin: If that room service waiter hadn't come in at midnight, we might still be stuck there.

The more I think about this image, the funnier it gets.

---

The Penguin asks for a ransom, and for some reason he wants the trade to go down in the front hall of Wayne Manor, since it's a neutral location. Batman and Robin plan to hide in suits of armor in the hall, ready to pounce when the deal is made.

Penguin, of course, hears all this, because Batman was kind enough to bring the umbrella along. I certainly hope at this point that Batman's figured out it's a listening device, because otherwise this is just getting sad.

---

The Penguin and his goons enter Wayne Manor, gassing Alfred, and then Batman and Robin in their suits of armor, immediately. Then they take the ransom money and leave the girl. At least he's true to his word.

---

Upon returning to the umbrella factory, though, the Penguin makes a startling discovery: Batman and Robin! They figured it out when Penguin used the exact same words at the penthouse to describe his caper that Batman and Robin had used in the Batcave. They discovered the transmitter and set the trap, using dummies in the suits of armor and hiding out in the hideout the whole time. Naturally, next comes the battle.

It starts amusingly enough as a fencing match with umbrellas, which the Penguin's crew wins quickly. Once it turns to fisticuffs, though, the fight's over pretty quickly. The police arrive, and Batman makes a clever quip. We might expect the episode to end there, but it doesn't.

---

For some reason, there's an upper-class dinner party at Wayne Manor the week after the crime spree. There, we get our first glimpse at Bruce Wayne, playa:

He leaves this bevy of beauties to welcome starlet Dawn Robbins, but she's cold and distant. As it turns out, though she only saw him for a moment, she's fallen hopelessly in love with Batman. Ah, if only she were Kim Basinger, Batman could take her in his cape and...hang upside-down or something. God, Tim Burton was weird.

---

So, the overall verdict? This was a great story, at least for the Penguin. Batman and Robin don't come out looking quite so good, since Penguin effortlessly outsmarted them in every step except the last, and the Gotham Police Department is apparently staffed by certified imbeciles.

It's worth noting that I've watched four different stories since I acquired these episodes, and each one begins with some crime, after which the Gotham Police officers stand around talking about how useless they are, and how the only people who can possibly solve the crime are Batman and Robin. At first, I thought this was particularly demeaning to the GCPD, but after seeing a few of these, I think it might just be an honest assessment of their complete inneffectiveness.

I mentioned in the last review that I wanted to pay more attention to the fight scenes, and I'm glad I did. The real stand-out of this episode is the umbrella fencing match, in which the Penguin and his men handily disarmed the Dynamic Duo. As with the rest of the episode, Batman and Robin come out on the bottom of the situation, and it serves to demonstrate that there are at least some things at which the Penguin is better than Batman.

Which brings us to Burgess Meredith's Penguin. Maybe it's just the strength of the story, but Meredith is fantastic, and the character is great. As much as I saw elements of Romero's Joker that may have made their way into later portrayals, it's clear that every subsequent version of the Penguin stands in Meredith's shadow¹. I'd even go so far as to say that Meredith's Penguin is the most well-remembered character--or at least villain--of the series. Part of that might be due to our most recent former Vice President, who bore various striking resemblances to the character and allowed for eight years of photoshopping and impressions. But then, there's a good thirty-odd years in-between, and I suspect a lot of the endurance of the character in the public consciousness owes to that distinctive catch-phrase (or more accurately, catch-quack), "waugh waugh waugh." There's been a trend recently in the comics to bring the "waugh" back, but I think it just tends to look silly on the page. Strangely, I don't have a problem with hearing it. Meredith is a real treat here, and is as close to threatening as I can imagine happening in this show. He is believable as a criminal mastermind (again, partially due to the quality of the story), and makes a credible adversary for Batman.

Anyway, this is a fantastic story, and really makes me reconsider the capabilities fo the 1966 Batman series. If you get a chance to watch this two-parter, take it.

---

1. I say this with a caveat: I'm not sure what the Penguin was like pre-Meredith, so I'm not sure how closely his portrayal mirrors the comic series. Even so, I suspect that Meredith's version has had a major impact on other Penguins, either through homage or response.

Bat-Month: "Curious Stirrings in my Utility Belt"

It's another audience participation day here at the Batcave of Soliloquy. I put it to you, dear readers: Who should Batman settle down with? Who is his ideal mate, his life partner, his love interest? What lucky girl or guy would you most want to see walking down the aisle with an enormously expensive ring shaped like a bat?

Friend 'Ship

As a comic fan, I expect to enter into any number of pointless conversations at any given moment, but especially at comic shops. And depending on the circumstances and content, I'm totally happy to jump into those conversations and have at it. There are some topics that I just stay away from in meatspace, unless it happens to be with friends.

One of those topics came up recently, when I was taking my brother to a semi-local comic shop. One of the shop's employees was talking to me as I browsed the TPB racks, and I chit-chatted in a friendly manner, right up until he got to that topic, at which point I got very engrossed in the racks and responded with absentminded "yeahs" and "mm-hmms."

The offending point? Paraphrased: 'I think Frank Miller really had the right idea; he just put Superman and Wonder Woman together. That's the way it should be, he should never have been with Lois Lane.'

And what a common sentiment this is, that Superman and Wonder Woman should be together. And every time I hear this argument, I have to wonder: have you ever read a Superman or Wonder Woman comic book?

There's only one reason I can think of to pair the two up, and it's not a pleasant one. The only thing Superman and Wonder Woman really have in common is that they're both A-list superheroes with similar power sets. If anyone else has more to add there, feel free, but the only rationale I can figure is "stick with your own kind." I think this position not only shows a lack of knowledge of the characters (as well as a lack of knowledge of musical theater), but also a lack of respect for them, and a general lack of understanding how relationships work in reality.

Let's remember who we have here: on one hand, there's the farm-raised alien boy scout, who makes his living as an investigative journalist. On the other hand, there's the Amazon warrior princess who makes her living as a diplomat (and occasionally, as a secret agent). If it weren't for the fact that they both dress up in spandex and fight crime occasionally, they'd never even have met, let alone dated. People tend to enter into romantic relationships with people that they spend a lot of time with. Hence why Superman has consistently dated a hard-nosed city-girl reporter who works with him, and why Diana's notable love interests have been a pilot co-worker, a fellow peace activist, and a fellow secret agent. Even her short-lived relationship with Batman built out of working more and more closely over several story arcs. I just don't think Superman and Wonder Woman have enough in common to warrant such a relationship.

I think a lot of the problem I have with this is that it largely ignores who both characters are as people. One of the most important characteristics of Superman's personality, I think, is that he sees himself as a normal person; he self-identifies as a human. Given who he is, we'd expect him to fall in love with a normal woman.

Diana's position is similar; her origin story is about a young woman of privilege who wanted to be treated as an equal to everyone else, and to be the bridge between two disparate cultures. Given who she is, we would expect her to fall in love with a normal man.

For Superman and Wonder Woman to get together, it would require a rejection of these basic components of their characters. Instead of further connecting himself with humanity, Superman would be with a demigoddess from an isolationist nation; instead of interacting with man's world, Wonder Woman would be spending her life with another visitor to that world, another outsider. All on the basis that they share similar abilities, on the basis of the things which make them particularly special and set them apart from their peoples--the very same things that neither one wants to be judged by.

It's essentially "I want someone who loves me for who I am, not what I can do."

And when it all comes down to it, I don't think real people approach relationships this way--deciding who to date based on who appears to be the most similar in terms of abilities or looks. That completely ignores the roles of personality and proximity in partner selection, boiling everything down to a mechanistic trait-matching game. Or to simplify, Wonder Woman is not Maxima.

There's another issue I have with this position, though it may be less sinister than I suspect. I always hear it phrased as "Superman should be with Wonder Woman, not Lois Lane," and I think, "doesn't Wonder Woman have a say in this arrangement?" I never hear "Wonder Woman should be with Superman, not Steve Trevor"--though it's possible that Diana's traditional relationship is just not well-known enough, and it certainly hasn't been the status quo for over twenty years. Even so, the implication is that Lois Lane is somehow beneath Superman, unworthy of him, while Wonder Woman possesses whatever quality would make her a suitable mate for the great Man of Steel. The whole thing smacks of sexism, both because it makes Superman the only agent in the discussion, and because it treats these two women as if their only value is as a physical mate.

Wonder Woman and Superman may be many things, and may have been many things over the last six decades, but one thing I can't see them being is lovers.

Bat-Month: "The Joker is Wild"/"Batman is Riled"

I've recently obtained several episodes of the '60s Batman series, which I haven't really been able to watch in years. The show has led to a lot of unfortunate consequences for comic fans, not the least of which the fact that every other mainstream story about comics begins with "Biff! Pow!"¹, in the series' distinctive style. Forty years on, somehow this show manages to remain cemented in pop culture as the quintessential comic book adaptation. While Batman has largely escaped from its long shadow, thanks to the recent films and the Animated Series, the rest of graphic literature in general still has to wear the albatross of '60s camp around its neck.

The fact that the series hasn't been released onto DVD is a tragedy, in my opinion. Theories vary on the reasons behind this video limbo, but I'm sure the dissonance in tone with the current Batman tone and portrayals makes the various parties less anxious to pursue resolution than they might be otherwise².

But I digress. One of the things I've wanted to do for Bat-Month is a series of reviews and retrospective on the '66 "Batman." And where better to start than with episodes 5 and 6, our two-part introduction to the Joker?

The story begins in "Gotham State Penitentiary." Shows set in an ambiguous locale often have to resort to these weird naming conventions, where "State" is appended to things which aren't actually states. I suspect it's because of this that we have Blackgate Prison and Arkham Asylum--and a host of other such institutions--in the comics.

Anyway, I'm a little curious as to just how penitent the prisoners can be, given their activity schedule:

Apparently Warden Crichton has some wacky liberal ideas about how to rehabilitate criminals (and in a demonstration of continuity that I would have imagined beyond this series, it references Crichton's theories from the previous story). In this instance, Crichton's penology³ includes an all-criminal slow-pitch softball team. Chief O'Hara remarks in the audience that he's surprised at how well the Warden's techniques work--rehabilitating the Joker to the point where he'd be content to play softball rather than organize a prison break. And doesn't he look content?

Not so much for the guy behind him, I guess. Of course, this is all a clever escape plot by the Joker, who launches himself over the prison wall with a giant spring under the pitcher's mound.

And you better believe that they milked the "sprung" pun for all it was worth. Commissioner Gordon makes the inevitable bright red phone call.

I know this is a common question, but it bears repeating: why does Bruce Wayne keep the Bat-Phone out on a desk in plain sight in his study? He takes such great pains to hide the Batcave entrance switch under the head of Shakespeare, but leaves the red translucent phone where anyone can see it? And Alfred answers it? Look, Lois Lane might very well be the dumbest person in comics, but Commissioner Gordon and Aunt Harriet have to tie for a close second.

There's a nice bit of subtle character work here; Bruce is reading the newspaper while Aunt Harriet gives Dick a piano lesson, and Bruce wordlessly expresses his opinion of the music:

I like this a lot, because they don't remark on it, and it shows an attention to detail that I think a lot of people assume the show couldn't accomplish. Naturally, it isn't long before they're sliding down the Batpoles into the theme song.

Now, something I like about this series is the way it jumped right into things. This is the Joker's first appearance, but the episode assumes that the viewers will already be familiar with the character--or that such familiarity is unimportant.

I made light of this Batman's detective skills in the first Bat-Month post, but he does a good job of it in this episode, I think. Gordon and O'Hara show him a bust--it's not clear who it's supposed to be (though Batman calls it a "good likeness"), except that it clearly has the Joker's coloration (I suspect it's supposed to look like Joker, but it could just as easily be Gordon with Joker's makeup and hair coloring)--that they discovered under the spring at the crime scene. Batman suspects that it may be a clue that the Joker left behind, and Gordon asks a pertinent question:

Gordon: Why would he leave you a clue, Batman?

Batman: He might not mean to. It's a trait of the criminal mind, the urge to boast. It often leads to the criminal's giving himself away.

Which is a good justification--or as good a justification as we're likely to get for this trope. Batman then ruminates on where one is likely to find a bust on a pedestal, which he connects to the point that the Gotham Museum of Mordern Art is opening a Comedians Hall of Fame--which won't have the Joker in it. Naturally, the Joker would want revenge, and the Museum has a sizeable jewel collection. Strangely enough, this bit of (totally circumstantial) detective work makes plenty of sense, at least to me.

When Batman and Robin arrive at the Museum, two interesting things occur. First, a bunch of teenage girls shriek and giggle at seeing Robin (I think I understand the tight briefs now...), and Batman realizes he's parked next to a sign that says the spot's reserved for the GCPD. He actually gets back into the car to move it, until an officer tells him it's okay and removes the sign. The Joker is about to rob the museum, but Batman needs to make sure he's not illegally parked. I guess when you break one law, it's just a slippery slope until you're just like the Joker.

Batman and Robin tell the guy at the front desk to evacuate the Museum, then go to check out the new exhibit for themselves. To their surprise, they find a big bronze bust of the Joker (Which looks nothing like him) among the displays. Robin suggests that they may have put up the bust after hearing about Joker's escape, so as to placate him and prevent a robbery. Batman kindly refrains from pointing out that they would have had to sculpt and cast a bronze sculpture in a ridiculously short amount of time for that plan to work (or, given the likeness, hastily placed a different sign on someone else's bust). Batman suspects that it may be a diversion.

They leave to find the Museum Director, and Batman suspects that he saw the statue move, but brushes the concern off. Perhaps I was too quick to laud the skills of the World's Greatest Detective. Naturally, as soon as the Museum closes, Joker comes out from behind the statue. Note that I say "behind," and not "inside"...there's nothing to indicate that he could even fit in it, there's just a flash of light and puff of smoke, and he rushes out, calling for his henchmen, who similarly emerge from behind busts of famous comedians. Good thing Batman didn't walk around any of the statues.

Batman and Robin realize their omission, and manage to break into the supposedly burglar-proof Museum with surprising speed and ease. A fight ensues (though without the theme music, which was disappointing), but Batman is knocked out when a displayed sword falls off the ceiling and konks him on the...shoulder. Hal Jordan would be proud, or perplexed.

The Joker's henchmen begin carrying the Dynamic Duo out, but it turns out Batman was playing possum⁴. He throws down a smoke bomb, which allows the heroes to overtake the villains, but the Joker escapes through a trap door--vowing, as he does, to never be thwarted by Batman's utility belt. I'll ignore the question of why there's a trap door in the burglary-proof Museum, because I know there's no decent answer. He decides that the solution is to craft a utility belt of his own:

I'm going to assume that the girl on the right is just an early Harley Quinn. She inspires the Joker's next scheme, to hijack the S.S. Gotham, which is launching next week.

The Joker announces his crime by tossing a clown doll into the window of the police station, while Gordon and O'Hara talk with Bruce and Dick about the security arrangements they've made for the S.S. Gotham. Gordon tries calling Batman about the clue, but Alfred informs him that "Batman is out for the day." I wonder what Gordon thought he'd be doing--going grocery shopping? Walking in the park? Seeing a movie? What would Batman do when he's not at home? The Commissioner is visibly upset, but Bruce reassures him by saying that the police can probably handle it. Then, Bruce asks if he could take the Joker's doll, the one thrown through the window of police headquarters, as a souvenir. Gordon asks the logical question:

Gordon: Any use for it, O'Hara?

To which O'Hara replies, "Why, yes Commissioner, it's evidence in a criminal investigation. Even if'n it weren't a clue to the Joker's next nefarious scheme, it's at the very least evidence in a vandalism case!"

Just kidding. What he actually says is:

O'Hara: Not for me. The sooner we get this mockin' thing outta headquarters, the better I like it!

Such stunning police work!

Gordon gives Bruce the doll as a "souvenir of [his] narrow brush with crime." Right, Bruce Wayne's narrow brush with crime came in adulthood, when the Joker tossed a doll through the police station's window. Not, you know, when his parents were gunned down in front of him as a child. I think Gordon's leading Lois at this point.

By the way, is it just me, or did Bruce's wardrobe here inspire his look in the Animated Series?

Speaking of inspirations, Batman realizes that the Gotham Opera Company is performing Pagliacci, and we quickly cut to the melodically morose clown himself, looking an awful lot like the Joker's henchman mask from "The Dark Knight."

In a further bit of synchronicity (which now seems eerily coincidental if it wasn't intentional), it turns out that the Joker's beneath that mask this time as well. He throws out some sneezing powder, which incapacitates Batman and Robin long enough for the henchmen to restrain them, so that the Joker can unmask them on live television. Thankfully, this being a live televised performance of "Pagliacci," their identities would be completely safe.

As the second part opens, Batman tosses a gas pellet up into the sprinkler system, activating it. Joker tosses a pellet of his own, throwing up smoke so he can escape onto the catwalk. Batman orders a surrender, as a "duly deputized agent of the law," but the Joker says "as the Clown Prince of Crime, I decline." Is that principality the basis for his eventual diplomatic immunity?

On the catwalks⁵, Batman pulls out his cuffs, but clearly isn't prepared for the Joker to tie him up in confetti. If Joker had used razor confetti, the whole show would be over by this point (then again, if he'd lobbed a grenade through the ridiculously unguarded police headquarters window instead of a doll, he'd be ruling Gotham by now).

The Joker's utility belt, which was concealed beneath his Pagliacci costume for the entirety of the fight, somehow becomes the subject of the nightly news. The bit is a joke--the anchor is reading "the questions all Gotham City is asking itself tonight," but the questions are exactly what the narrator just said. It's a fairly well-done gag, if only because it allows them to say "have Batman and Boy Wonder finally met their match?" and "will the Joker's utility belt prove their ultimate undoing?" three times in the span of a minute or two. According to the newscaster, criminals across Gotham City have been emboldened by the Dynamic Duo's apparent impotence⁶ and are embarking on a terrible crime wave.

The Joker's henchmen then hijack the studio, producing a shaky-cam broadcast of the Joker, hinting at his next crime. Again, as much as Goyer and Nolan have worked to craft their own serious version of Batman and the Joker, I can't help but see parallels.

Batman and Robin work out the clue and engage in one of their patented wall-scalings. Sadly, no guest stars in this one (though it wouldn't make sense for them to be hiding in a warehouse. A fight ensues, but the Joker and his henchmen mak their getaway. Batman throws a pellet to...I don't know, they were long gone by that point. Nonetheless, it explodes into a shower of confetti and a sign saying "Phooey on Batman." The Joker had switched utility belts with Batman during the fight, prompting this:

Robin: And when you thought you were stopping him with your utility belt, he was really stopping us with his!

Batman: A tricky double! He's hit us below the belt!

Rimshot! I'll admit, I laughed pretty hard at that one.

The Joker's next plan--finally getting back to the S.S. Gotham--involves a special cork in a bottle of champagne. Batman and Robin are set to christen the ship, when a concerned citizen asks why they're there instead of stopping the Joker from taking over Gotham City. Good question, citizen, but we're going to ignore it. He examines the champagne bottle, then complains of a headache and takes a pill for it. He gives another to Robin, "in case it's contagious." Robin reminds Batman that if that's the case, they should both keep very clear of Rob Base. Naturally, when Batman breaks the bottle on the hull of the ship, it emits a noxious gas, which knocks out everyone in
r'haky-cam message of the Joker's, this time demanding the title to the S.S. Gotham, or else his medieval executioner will cut off the unconscious Batman and Robin's heads. Obviously, it's another ploy--Batman and Robin were prepared with a "universal drug antidote⁷." As it turns out, the replica utility belt that Joker had made also included a replica of his trick cork, which Batman analyzed, making him prepared for the Joker's plot. There's the usual fight, until the Joker trips over his own utility belt, which explodes. Shortly thereafter, the Joker and his henchmen are restrained and ready to go back to softball prison.

The show ends with a return to Dick's piano lessons, and a nice shot of Bruce looking...well, looking really Batman-y:


I really didn't mean for this to turn into a liveblogging/synopsis (I keep having trouble with that), but that's what we've got here. Overall, the story was entertaining, though it did feel like it bounced around quite a lot. In the span of under an hour, the Joker had something like four to six plots, and sometimes the connecting threads were dropped for quite long periods of time. Still, the end had some nice closure, with the Joker being undone by his own utility belt instead of Batman's for a change, and there were some good gags and good Bat-moments interspersed throughout. One thing I want to pay a little more attention to in future episodes is the fight sequences; I kind of used those moments for writing, so I missed out on a lot of the action.

I could hardly get through this commentary without saying a bit about Cesar Romero's Joker. He's never really threatening, but that's hardly a complaint; in this show, I have a hard time imagining what a threatening villain would even look like. He makes up for it by being incredibly over-the-top. As supervillains go, Romero's Joker makes you believe that he has a warehouse full of giant pianos and playing cards. One of the best things about Romero's Joker is his laughs: he has so many, and they're all very distinctive.

Adam West's Batman deserves some recognition here, too. As I said once or twice in the synopsis, West generally does very well putting forward that Batman air. He has that commanding, considering voice that Batman ought to have. I think what throws people watching this now--and what certainly threw me--is that the entire core concept of Batman is so different. It isn't just that this Batman is an officer of the law, it isn't just that this Batman is a good role model for his youthful ward, it isn't just that this Batman is so completely wholesome, it's that, in the entire hour, there's not a single scene at night. This is Batman out of the shadows, Batman in bright technicolor, and when you consider that the number of daytime scenes in the four-year Animated Series almost certainly wouldn't exceed the double-digits, and the same can be said with the films, that's jarring. In fact, it'd only take a few minor tweaks to make this series a decent Superman show, and that would fit much better with modern sensibilities.

All in all, I had fun watching this two-parter, and I'm looking forward to the next one⁸. I think something with the Penguin is in order.

---

1. And usually ends with "Comics aren't for kids anymore." Sigh.

2. On the other hand, "Batman: Brave and the Bold." Either way, if I were at Warner or DC or wherever, I'd be recording commentaries with the surviving cast and crew.

3. *Snicker*.

4. Or is it "playing opossum"? I think I like the alliterative version better regardless.

5. Yeah, on the catwalks, on the catwalks, yeah. I do my little turn on the catwalks.

6. Yes, that's his word. Admire my self-restraint, that I didn't take the Ambiguously Gay Duo joke-bait handed to me there on a silver platter.

7. Which raises a humongous host of other questions. Why wouldn't they just take that at the start of every day, on the chance that they'd be drugged at some point? Has Wayne Industries done any marketing of this? Do they realize that this wouldn't just be an amazing source of income, but would be one of the greatest technological advances in medical history? Or is this another case of Reed Richards is Useless?

8. I'm also looking forward to making that entry much shorter.

Bat-Month: Stubbornness

I still pronounce it "Raysh Ahl Gool."