I’ve dedicated a lot of words, both written and spoken, to analyzing Batman media.
That may have something to do with the fact that Batman has a cultural footprint that crosses genre and medium to a greater extent (and to greater success) than any other superhero. More simply, it’s probably just because Batman: The Animated Series, the seminal ’90s children’s cartoon created by Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski, left such a massive footprint on me, and I’ve been chasing that high in other Batman media ever since.
I’ve waxed at length about what made that series so special, so I’ll put it succinctly here: more than any other cartoon or animated film in my childhood, BTAS‘s “dark deco” cityscape of crime and heroism was a world I wanted to live in. I’ve since realized the series is the quintessence of Batman—all of the character’s most defining facets and appeal, folded into a single work—but I don’t think I thought of it that way at seven years old. It was just a really cool cartoon about Batman.
But even after multiple revisits across twenty years, it’s never lost its luster for me. I don’t pretend to be above nostalgic comforts, but I am incredibly averse to the way nostalgia pervades and defines modern media, and how it has sapped audiences of their willingness to be challenged in their preconceived notions of a character or property.
So you can imagine my double-edged intrigue at the prospect of a deliberate successor to such an outlying and definitive work. On one hand, it’d be neat if they pulled it off! On the other, BTAS was of a rare breed among Western cartoons even at the time it originally aired. Animated television in the West is certainly in a sorry state today, but even at a time of greater innovation, Batman was singular in tone and style. It would seem an even taller order not only to replicate that series’ strengths but to expand on them in the modern studio/streaming environment.
This is essentially how Batman: Caped Crusader was billed in press and marketing leading up to its release—Timm’s return to the format and aesthetic trappings of his previous work to revisit a character he helped define for the modern era 30 years ago. In a logline, more BTAS—if not literally, then spiritually.
But is that what this series, released in a bingeable block on Prime Video three weeks ago (Aug. 1), actually is? To some extent, yes. And it’s a reasonably worthy follow-up, if a little unimaginative. But there are significant deviations from that formula—most of which are admirable in concept, even if the success of their execution varies.
It’s quickly apparent that Batman: Caped Crusader is not narratively connected to BTAS, though it bears a strong resemblance in art style and tone. Here, Bruce Wayne (voiced by Hamish Linklater) is younger and less experienced, likely somewhere around his second year of vigilantism. Much of his rogues gallery is unestablished, and his presence is known but not ubiquitous to the city of Gotham. He has a tenuous relationship with polarizing Police Commissioner Jim Gordon (Eric Morgan Stuart), who seems to be a wary ally, at least for now.
The most surprising aspect of Caped Crusader is that it’s primarily focused on Gotham itself, and the major players and political dynamics therein, rather than the titular hero who protects it. The city is in a state of political tumult, with a corrupt criminal justice system and rampant gang activity causing many to call for change and reform. Commissioner Gordon and his daughter Barbara (Krystal Joy Brown), a public defender, seek to fix the broken system from the inside. Meanwhile, charismatic district attorney Harvey Dent (Deidrich Bader) is trying to leverage his populist appeal (and secret gang connections) into a mayoral campaign.
This isn’t new territory for a Batman story—countless comics and movies paint Gotham in almost exactly the same state—but the heightened emphasis on those elements here makes the series feel distinct, particularly from other animated iterations. Batman often doesn’t contribute much to the ongoing sociopolitical conflicts; he might interrogate a central figure for answers to his own investigations, or occasionally provide evidence critical to the Gordon’s anti-corruption efforts, but it’s mostly Gotham trying to figure its own shit out while Batman beats up bad guys.
Largely, the way Caped Crusader tackles the sociopolitics of the city is both straightforward and satisfying. It’s also a smart move on Timm’s part to deal in more “adult” subject matter for a series that will inherently have more immediate appeal to ’90s kids than to current ones. There are discussions of excessive police violence and the importance of community-first political reform; good stuff, even if only examined at a surface level.
Some of the villains also get cool re-introductions. Catwoman’s first episode makes a compelling case for her as both romantic partner for Bruce and vigilante collaborator for Batman, and she offers us a glimpse of a Batman who questions whether or not he can have a life outside of crimefighting. Harley Quinn is introduced as a still-practicing psychiatrist whom Bruce Wayne actually goes to for treatment; his resistance to therapy is both funny and tragically revealing. Clayface is overhauled from recent depictions to more closely resemble Boris Karloff and Lon Cheney (the character’s original inspirations) and has an accordingly sad “old Hollywood” backstory.
The issue, for me, was how disconnected from one another the Gotham stuff and the Batman stuff felt. Sure, Batman is usually pursuing people connected to (or even directly responsible for) the systemic issues that Dent and the Gordons are up against. But Timm often struggles to reconcile the two parallel plots. An episode will cut between Batman hunting a bad guy and Gordon cutting through red tape—they may even have a conversation in the middle about shared woes—but these storylines don’t mesh with or mirror one another in a way that really enhances either one. And while the Gotham stuff is relatively well done, Batman’s story is underwritten.
If you want to tell a story primarily about Gotham, that’s fine. (I think we already did that, at least in a live-action format, but fine.) However, I don’t think that was the goal of this show.
If it was, Caped Crusader wouldn’t spend virtually half its runtime following Batman. But when we are following him, it’s mostly perfunctory spectacle—action to move the episode along (and not visually exciting action, either). There are gestures at detailing his character and psyche, as well his relationships to others (mainly Alfred), and I enjoyed the little details those gestures provided. But a lot of it feels only partly-formed or elementary, which makes all that runtime feel a bit wasted given that the main focus of the ongoing narrative seems to be on the other stuff happening in Gotham.
It’s just kind of an unfortunate misallocation of time and emphasis, I think. Timm wanted to tell a Batman story in the vein of The Animated Series while highlighting other figures in Gotham more than that series did. Perfectly good idea. But in pursuing that, he wound up under-serving the reason any of us actually showed up to watch it: the guy in the bat costume.
That’s not to say this is a poor portrayal of the character; just a frustratingly cursory one. Linklater gives a sufficient performance that is appropriately (but not indulgently) reminiscent of the late Kevin Conroy’s rendition. He takes a similar approach of shifting his tone to create contrast between Bruce and Batman, and that works well enough.
This is probably nitpicking, but I think Linklater’s Batman voice might need some fine-tuning. It just sounds like he’s hitting the bottom of his vocal register and is flattening out as a result—like trying to sing a note that’s just a little below your range. It’s a little raspy and thin, kind of like Bale’s but less aggressively gravelly. He could probably pitch it up a hair and get more depth out of it. His voice doesn’t ruin the show, by any means, but I think it lessens the impact of Batman’s more intense scenes.
Another bummer is the series’ complete lack of visual invention. I was hoping that a return to this visual style would mean a commensurate return to its depth of artistry. But it looks closer to the later VOD entries in the “Timmverse” than the original series. Gone are the rich black shadows, textured backdrops, and varied locales; in their place are broad, grey offices and nondescript city streets. To some extent, one could excuse the reserved look as a part of the show’s more grounded storylines; an emphasis on political conflict over supervillain antics would naturally mean less kooky scenery. But frankly, it’s just not that interesting to look at, and, somewhat ironically, it makes Gotham feels less “alive.”
Still, Caped Crusader is likely a compelling enough watch for those craving a mature animated Batman show. It may not push Batman himself into any new territory, but it admirably expands the fable-like storytelling of its spiritual predecessor to include more modern social commentary; an apt decision for this kind of project.
If the series gets another season, I’d like to see it dig deeper into who this Batman is, as there are some interesting seeds planted here that don’t get time to grow. On top of that, it could stand to get a little more creative with the animation. If it’s revealed Season 2 will just be more of exactly this, I don’t think I’ll stick with it. The Gotham politics was mildly refreshing to see in this format, but not meaty enough to want more. (I’m here for Batman. Aren’t we all?)
But if they’re open to altering course and focusing a little harder on the Caped Crusader himself, this series has enough going for it, like thoughtful writing and a love for the world these characters inhabit, to upgrade from a worthy but inessential rehash to a definitive successor to the throne.
Wishes he could forego sleep to watch more movies. Besides co-hosting Odd Trilogies and writing reviews, Andy builds Gundam models, loves on his three cats, and spends way too much time managing his Plex server. You can follow his movie-watching habits on Letterboxd.