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Review - Batman: Caped Crusader

Batman: Caped Crusader does not aspire to be the definitive interpretation of the eponymous superhero, nor is it a postmodern deconstruction of the “tropes,” “lore,” and “mythology” traditionally associated with the source material (à la Matt Reeves’ recent blockbuster film). It’s just a straightforward, no-frills adaptation—and in an era where everything comic book related has to be a capital “E” Event, that modesty feels positively radical.



The show’s structure is elegant in its simplicity. As in Bruce Timm’s classic ‘90s animated series (as well as such similarly influential works as Teen Titans and Batman: The Brave and the Bold), each episode tells a self-contained story, with a handful of recurring threads—Harvey Dent’s mayoral campaign, the increasingly blatant corruption of Detectives Flass and Bullock, the gradual development of Bruce Wayne’s initially icy relationship with Alfred—contributing to a season-spanning narrative arc that ultimately culminates in an explosive two-part finale. This non-serialized approach allows the writers to experiment and discover variations on the versatile “villain of the week” formula: “…And Be a Villain” and “Kiss of the Catwoman”, for example, revolve entirely around the origins of their respective antagonists; “The Night of the Hunters”, meanwhile, utilizes its costumed criminal du jour as a mere prop in a plot that explores the growing schism within the Gotham Police Department.


Beyond this surface-level familiarity, of course, there is ample room for novelty, innovation, and subversion. The creative team’s depiction of Batman’s duality is particularly compelling. Defying the commonly held fan theory that the performative “lazy playboy” façade is the real mask, whereas the “brooding vigilante” alter ego is closer to his actual self, this iteration of our hero treats both personae as equally fabricated—divergent embodiments of the same fundamental vulnerabilities. His “true identity” resides somewhere between these extremes, obfuscated by the repressed trauma that he refuses to confront, emerging only in fleeting moments of compassion—when he prioritizes rescuing imperiled innocents over pursuing perps, for instance, or when he chooses to be merciful towards his vanquished foes.



Lean, efficient, and easily digestible, Batman: Caped Crusader is refreshingly old school in its style and sensibilities. To Hell with the corporate gruel of Multiverses, multibillion-dollar budgets, and bloated “prestige” television; give me ten more years of the bite-sized gourmet meals that Timm, Reeves, and Abrams are cooking.

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