Batman: TAS: episode #40: Heart of Steel, part 2

At this point, it's worth questioning what ended up making the cut for two episodes on a story. The other two that we've seen were about the origins of Robin, Catwoman, and, of course, Two-Face; all of them massive figures in the mythos. (And how could you not do a two-parter about Two-Face?) But this one, about a relatively forgettable enemy in the form of the computer HARDAC, also got that treatment. Director Kevin Altieri mentioned that the original script for this story was even longer than a two-parter and they ended up cutting significant segments of it, both entire scenes and the detail in the included scenes, because of the budget and time that the animation studio had in order to do the work. That would come into play in a different sense, as well, when Altieri mentioned in the commentary that the original script had called for the final fight sequence to take place outside and he wanted a more "intimate" scene that would be more contained and what he felt suited the nature of the story (hi-tech, impersonation, etc.) The Batman's ability to escape the cliffhanger trap of part 1 (the claws that hold his glider) makes sense because, again, the device was just intended to hold a glider, not a 200+ pound man. The very presence of the claws was also just a nod back to the basic theme of the story in the first place (robots vs humans.) In that respect, it made sense for it not to be a relatively useless deathtrap like we see in the joke scene of Galaxy Quest or something equally unreasonable and that, too, is smart storytelling. Alfred also delivers the line of the episode: "I do wish your toys wouldn't play so roughly with you, sir!"

But this episode, just like the first one, still carries a lot of elements of famous science fiction productions. The staring, red eye of HARDAC is wholly reminiscent of that of HAL-9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey, even if HARDAC's blinks when he speaks, unlike the ominous steady glow of HAL. He also mentions the "human frailties" that "threaten the plan", which is the whole focus of HAL's presence in that film. Likewise, Altieri and Bruce Timm mentioned that Karl Rossum was named after Guido van Rossum, the creator of PYTHON, so there are all kinds of little references throughout. Another one is Randa Duane resembling Marilyn Monroe, as they tried to stay in theme with the times as technology of the more mundane story (cars, etc.) are presented as a 1930s-era depiction throughout the series, so even the hi-tech stuff tends to stay that way, too (HARDAC taking up much of a warehouse, as the original ENIAC did, as well.) Interestingly, Altieri mentions that the spider-like activity of the "duplicants" when they begin battling The Batman was inspired by a character from Legend of the Overfiend, which is a fairly niche (and pornographic) corner of the animation world. That follows in form with another apparent SF reference, which is the glowing, red eyes of the robots; not with a lens sheen like HARDAC's, but more diode-appearing as was the case with the antagonist of The Terminator.

But one of the best moments of the episode is something that Altieri and Timm said they tried to avoid: the appearance of the Batsignal. All we see is the symbol on the clouds, no sound, no music. Just the light. It felt iconic to me but they had said they wanted to avoid it, perhaps because they thought it made him too familiar and less of the mysterious Dark Knight that they wanted to portray. (The menace from the shadows doesn't respond to a searchlight-!) The continuation of the scene is the appearance of Harvey Bullock's "duplicant" who then begins to literally toss The Batman around the rooftop. But it still looks and sounds like Bullock, so when Barbara Gordon assists our hero in tossing Bullock into the Batsignal, where he's electrocuted and "dies", it's a moment of surprise for the viewer, because the characters have to know that what they're doing is likely lethal if this somehow is Bullock. Barbara even tears up before the skin covering falls away and the robot falls apart. It's quite a (ahem) shocking moment that they somehow got past Standards & Practices (Altieri said that once the review board knew they were robots, they could be as violent as they wanted. And they were.) There's also a great moment at the end where our hero delivers the line: "Please let go of my cape." as Barbara attempts to extract a promise from him about finding her father. This, of course, only makes me think of The Watchmen and, of course, The Incredibles.

Speaking of Barbara, she has an interesting role in this one, since all of us older fans know that she's Batgirl from the comics, but in this instance they take the time to show her own initiative and intelligence and round her out as her own person, minus the costume (and the cape!) There's also an interesting choice of perspective switch when she's being followed by the robot trashcan in Rossum/HARDAC's lair and is captured by "duplicants." At that moment, instead of switching to the narrator's overhead view of events, we instead see them from the perspective of the robot, which has switched back to its trashcan role. In most other episodes, we would've stuck with the "reader of the comic page" view, rather than dropping to that of a nameless extra character. In the end, the massive fight scene ends in one of the more explosive conclusions, with everything being destroyed and/or burning to the ground (S&P said we could-!) and Rossum suggesting that it was all the AIs fault and the mayor, having been kidnapped and held in a hibernation tank, happily agreeing with him because he apparently did it "for the children" (his deceased daughter.) That's the departure from much of standard SF, where the inventor is held responsible for his creations.

Batman: TAS: episode #39: Heart of Steel, part I

One of the hallmarks of the series was, as noted, the animation style that not only preserved the image of roughly 1920s Gotham, but was also elaborate enough to fully demonstrate modern storytelling. It's that "modern storytelling" angle that is key in Heart of Steel, part I, as the plot is centered around the concepts of artificial intelligence and robotic minions; scions of science fiction for decades, but enjoying a new lease on life in the early 90s as computers became ever faster and more powerful. In fact, this story borrowed heavily from the film that explored a new angle on the robots concept, which was Blade Runner. Initially rejected for what many saw as its complex story when first released in 1982, by the time this episode aired, a decade later, it had gained a significant following precisely because of its complexity and the questions it dared to ask; much like Batman: The Animated Series in its approach to its central figure. This borrowing from the film was further emphasized by one of this episode's lead characters, Karl Rossum, being not only based on J. F,. Sebastian, the introverted designer from Blade Runner, but voiced by the same William Sanderson, who played the role in the film.

Indeed, there's all kinds of technology, new and old, present in the first few minutes of this episode, with the briefcase robot conducting a planned heist, only to be pursued by our hero with the conveniently stashed Bat-glider on the top of Wayne Enterprises. We haven't come across many of the Bat-devices in the episodes we've covered so far. Many of them are associated with the goofier, adventurer version of the character from the 50s, but this one was a decent addition to the story. Speaking of early 80s films, the briefcase itself, with its tentacled feet, was an easy reminder of one of the more famous scenes from John Carpenter's The Thing. Bruce also refers to the project that is being stolen as not just AI, but also "wetware", which was normally only applied to biological entities with enhancements and not the silicon chips mentioned here, which makes me wonder if the writer (Brynne Stephens) either got her buzzwords mixed up or was encouraged to use them, regardless of plot, by the producers. It was around this same time that one of the more famous comic companies of the era, Image, emerged with two announced titles that slotted right into the SF of the era and this story in Wetworks and Cyber Force (akin to Rossum's company, Cybertron Industries) so, it was going around.

In terms of pure storytelling, it was amusing to see the cyber-briefcase react in the same way regular human criminals did to the appearance of The Batman, by immediately fleeing. It may have been artificial, but it was genuinely intelligent. Also, some more of the human elements to the cast and background of The Batman were present, with an appearance by Barbara Gordon, home from college, and her dad, Jim Gordon, and his attachment to Wubbie, her teddy bear. That's the most emotion that Jim Gordon has shown in the series that wasn't either anger or fear. Similarly, Alfred became more than just background humor, as he was directly involved in the action against the intruder in Wayne Manor. At this stage, the character was still the genteel and rather prim and proper person that most people associate with the comics and a far cry from the more exciting version that would appear in later years in productions like Gotham. That said, it was still encouraging to see him directly participate in the crises that follow his employer around.

But despite the human angle, the episode also stuck pretty closely to the artificial, as it were. The mastermind AI ends up fashioning "duplicants", just like Blade Runner's "replicants." Again, this was an obvious homage, given the presence of Sanderson, but it's a pretty fine line between referencing and following themes to just outright swiping and copying material. Sincerest form of flattery and all that, but there's a limit. That follows with the extremely elaborate and automated clawed rack for the Bat-glider which is foreshadowed to be the threat the episode's cliffhanger ends on when the AI takes over the Batcave's computer. There's enough meat here to comprise the two-episode storyline, but not without some rather glaring missteps, such as the laser security barrier that the briefcase simply slides under and which any human could have simply stepped over to get to the lab where the chips are held. Similarly, on a technical level, it was kind of jarring to see that the first few seconds of animation weren't the standard for the series which the episode reverts to after that point. The opening moments in the lobby are choppy and grainy and everyone in said lobby is moving in sync, as if there were simply fewer frames in it when originally produced. Studio accident or perhaps a hurried reshoot? Hard to tell. Regardless, part II will be next.

Batman TAS: episode #38: Cat Scratch Fever

We've finally returned to the intended "Next issue-!" point from three-and-a-half years ago and it's almost extra appropriate, since the Catwoman episodes are always ones that seem like they're intentionally part of the larger picture, unlike things like See No Evil or even The Laughing Fish. Those latter two are or could be one-offs, without character development that is the essence of the relationship between Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle and, in turn, The Batman and Catwoman. That personal connection is what makes episodes like Cat Scratch Fever stand out in the long view. Not only do we begin with Selina being charged for the crimes she committed in The Cat and the Claw, but we have references to their changing circumstances made by Maven, Alfred, and Bruce. Indeed, Alfred even suggests that Bruce should start dating a known criminal, even if she is one, as the judge states in the opening scene, who committed crimes for a just cause. Of course, that also highlights the real world problem with America's two-tiered justice system, in that a wealthy, White woman had 25 years in prison changed to 5 years of probation. That's something that wouldn't have happened to anyone a) poorer and b) darker. Of course, that's a theme that's very much outside the realm of what Timm and Co. were aiming for, but it's a context that can easily be laid over this episode, in a similar vein to the radio broadcast talking about "record lows" in temperature, which is no longer the case in our world.

We also see the return of Daggett Industries, which we first saw in Feat of Clay and is now even more of a menace to the general public. This was the replacement for the goofy Shreck Corporation of Batman Returns, in which a huge department store was a threat to the public, whereas Daggett is at least an experimental lab and chemical company that makes destructive substances for profit. In that way, the series was trying to draw a line between the visual style that they had borrowed from Tim Burton's films and its often absurdist approach to the mythos and setting. Similarly, Selina clearly drew a line between her two identities when it came the aforementioned relationship. Bruce was firmly placed in the "friend zone", while Catwoman feels free to make a pass at The Batman whenever the opportunity presents. It's a similar approach to the line that Bruce clearly draws when Alfred's suggestion about a date is rebuffed. In his eyes, Bruce Wayne is one thing and The Batman is something else entirely; an opinion that Selina clearly shares. The statement is made that "You won't see Selina Kyle anywhere near Daggett Labs" before Catwoman makes an appearance at the Labs in the very next scene. It's a compartmentalization that is similar, but rooted in very different origins, as Bruce's comes from trauma and Selina's from a desire to help things that can't help themselves. At the same time, they're quite similar, as both are pursuing justice outside the law, but one is willing to overtly commit crimes in order to do it, while the other is more adept at toeing the line where necessary.

Speaking of visual style, they stuck with the imagery of Batman Returns and the Michelle Pfeiffer appearance, which is also reminiscent of Julie Newmar from the 60s TV series. Of course, the most famous version in the comics is the 1970s brunette, drawn by artists like Irv Novick and Ross Andru, usually with Dick Giordano's inks. And, interestingly, despite Frank Miller's Return of the Dark Knight having been the inspiration for Burton's films and, subsequently, the Animated Series, they avoided the short-haired street criminal approach that Miller presented in Batman: Year One and which later became the dominant motif (regardless of hair color or style) in presentations like Gotham. It's a nod to just how many interpretations of the main character and his surrounding cast can be made and still carry the essential identity of what the story. That's a character and a concept with depth, which is why he's been the most enduring and popular of DC's creations (and, of course, not being a demigod, even if he is a billionaire, super martial artist, and genius detective.) In the one questionable editing moment, he's such a genius that he somehow retrieves his cape from where he left it miles away at the Labs when he finally delivers the virus antidote to Selina. Speaking of the virus, which is a central element of the plot, I had a brief thought that this was essentially the plot of 28 Days Later, although the latter was interested in long-term profits via weapon sales, whereas Daggett is interested in short-term extortion. Some criminals are smarter than others, which is a good ending note for a piece about Catwoman. Next time, Heart of Steel.

Comforting in its relatability

I don't really seek out Jesse Eisenberg films. Despite his legions of fans, most notably for his starring turn in The Social Network (a film which, despite my affection for David Fincher's work, I found fairly boring), I've always that he was a bit too typecast for my taste. Most of his roles play up the nerdy, insecure guy and, as soon as you see him, you know that's what you're going to get, which tends to make a lot of what goes on around him equally predictable. Of course, that sense of reliability also creates a sense of relatability, since his most frequent character is a reflection of any number of introverts that we all know in our lives in various fashions. But A Real Pain, which he wrote, directed, and starred in as that same, nerdy, insecure guy and despite being obvious in some respects, actually turned out to be a step above the comfort food level of many of his other films. He was doing his same, old thing, but combining that with the absolute explosion that is Kieran Culkin made for a story that had multiple levels of insight on their characters and relationships, in general, which is always a positive outcome in my book.

The story is not particularly original, since it's something that many people have done and still seek to do throughout the ages: come face to face with their or their family's place of origin. Eisenberg and Culkin play two cousins who visit Poland to see their ancestral homeland and the home of their grandmother who survived the camps of World War II. On a guided tour with a few other people (among them Jennifer Grey), they subject all of them to Benji's (Culkin) emotionally overwrought behavior combined with brutal honesty and David's (Eisenberg) attempts to make up for his cousin's confrontational attitude to them, their tour guide (Will Sharpe, most recently seen in the second season of The White Lotus), and the surrounding locals. The title, at this point, becomes pointed, not only because it's the obvious joke, but also because Culkin, just as he so often did in the brilliant Succession, tends to overwhelm the atmosphere of any scene that he's in. If the story was intended to have deeper meaning, his antics completely wipe out that possibility for a decent chunk of the film. The highlight is the scene of the two cousins jumping a train back to Lublin to return to their tour after David fell asleep and Benji, despite being aware that they missed their stop, deciding that he was sleeping too peacefully to disturb him. Priorities are in question throughout the film but usually to highlight the willingness to engage life that is Benji's character. And that's where things begin to turn.

Despite Benji being on a rampage for much of the first half of the film, the deft turns taken by Eisenberg as actor, writer, and director steer us back to the central message which is the emotional awareness of not just the amount of tragic history that still cloaks the area, but the very personal struggles that arise from confronting that history and which both Benji and David are carrying with them; not just about their recently-deceased grandmother, but about their roles in this life and what meaning they may have to both of them. In some ways, it's still a comfortable and, thus, predictable message, but it's delivered with enough humor (the absolute mundanity of finding their grandmother's home, only to be accosted by the neighbors on a very pragmatic level) and insight to see the grander picture that those underlying themes touch upon. And this is to say nothing of the timeliness, given that the incoming government of the US seems intent on returning us to the era of mass internment camps and all of the potential horrors that go with them. The most poignant moment of the emotional parade that is this story may be the final scene, watching Benji sitting in the airport by himself, still considering just what everything means and where he fits into it all. Been there.

So, yes, despite Eisenberg doing the thing again and despite the overall plot not being anything mindblowing, I think there's enough texture here to recommend this film; not least for Culkin's performance, but also for the writing that led him there and Eisenberg's capable direction to keep us aware of all of the levels on which his story works. Not a masterpiece, but a really solid step forward.

Where I can't feel anything for a bunch of emotionless people

Last night was another of those moments when I'm beginning to feel firmly detached from modern cinema and especially modern cinema criticism because I can't for the life of me understand what was so compelling about the film we saw that would have critics raving about it, not least because it won the Palm d'Or at Cannes. That film is Anora. It's another Sean Baker production and I agreed to see it for precisely that reason. It's described as a "romantic comedy", which is normally something that I would avoid like it was on fire because most of them are awful. But Baker has a lot of credit in the bank with me because of two previous films: The Florida Project and Red Rocket. The former is a great example of the chasm in understanding between the privileged few and the underserved many in our nation. It's a story with pathos and one that most decent humans could feel sympathy for, in the same way that we watch Willem Dafoe make his own life more difficult in the name of making his tenants' a tiny bit easier. The latter is one of the best things we've ever seen at the Michigan/State theaters. It's a fantastic example of overweening ambition and the obvious impending failure that it leads to (reach exceeds thy grasp or thy Johnson, as the case may be.) Both of those films are replete with examples of genuinely human characters and their genuinely human circumstances and reactions to same. As many have said about Shakespeare: characters will drive your stories and make them last. Both of those stories have that. Anora... does not.

We're presented with a situation that is a young woman's (Mikey Madison) fairly successful stripping/escort career, since she lives in a comfortable home with her sister in Brighton Beach and works at what is implied as an upscale club, probably somewhere in the Lower East Side. She meets an incredibly wealthy young Russian ne'er-do-well (Mark Eydelshteyn) whom she entrances and then convinces to pay her a substantial fee to hang out with him as his "girlfriend" for a week. So far, everything is paved with gold here. But then his family finds out and their servants here in the States come to disrupt this Shangri-La, which is where our story veers from Pretty Woman to Uncut Gems. Anyone who remembers my review of the latter film will recall that I found it to be both tedious and obnoxious, which is a morbidly impressive combination. So our story of the stripper whose life is already pretty cozy and only gets better throughout the first act is suddenly turned into a 25-minute-long home invasion scene where everyone is screaming at each other and, just like with Uncut Gems, is basically being a collection of obnoxious New Yorkers failing to communicate. Just as with that film, I have no concept of how this can be entertaining to anyone. What's worse is that none of the characters involved are even remotely interesting. They're not human. They're ciphers. Pretty Woman is usually discarded as fluff because it is, failing to even approach the reality of working women in LA. Same thing here. What would make me feel sympathy for Ani's situation or person when we don't see her even stepping up from the level of hiding the rent in the toilet tank before dating the millionaire? The worst crisis she encounters before the family servants come barging in is being woken up early by her sister. It never feels like she's latching on to that one thing she's been waiting for and is then traumatized by having it swept away from her. Instead, we've basically watched her just take advantage of the situation (as most would do) and not be too troubled by any of it.

In truth, the only genuinely interesting character in the whole film is Igor (Yura Borisov), one of those thugs who breaks in to disrupt her moment with the wayward Russian heir. What makes him interesting is that we simply watch his face for the entire invasion scene, largely agog at what's happening around him and clearly not quite understanding why he's there in the first place. I really enjoyed Borisov in Compartment No. 6 and was happy to see him again, being just as effective in this role as he was as Lyokha on the train. As the one person not being bombastic but merely trying to survive the ride, he struck me as the one person reacting like most people would in that situation. In other words, as I will say again and again in all of my criticism, he was human. And acting human while everyone else was chewing scenery. He maintains that humanity even as things take a sharp turn into sentimentality in act 3. This would be the point where said sentiment is supposed to engender sympathy from the average American moviegoer. But Baker's films have never been about that, so I don't suspect that that was his intention. But the problem is that, even if it was, none of these characters, including Ani, had done anything throughout this story to generate that sympathy. Everything kind of slid off of her and so she kind of slid off of us, pants on or not. By the end of the film, we still don't really know who she is other than perhaps a vague sensation that she's been brazening her way through most of her life and this was the one time she couldn't call the shots? If that's all you have in terms of character development, then we are a long way from earlier examples of Baker's work.

And, yet, critics are raving about it (97% on RT; the Palm d'Or(!)) and all I can ask is: What am I missing? I look at this film and think of my usual later-Ridley Scott criticism: It's more spectacle than story. I mean, was the Cannes crowd just thrilled that the American submission wasn't another damn Marvel movie?

Batman TAS: episode #37: The Laughing Fish

The Laughing Fish is the greatest Joker story ever told, full stop. That story was written by Steve Englehart on his run in Detective Comics from #469-476 with Marshall Rogers on art duties; arguably the greatest run on the character in its 95-year history. So much of that eight-issue sequence has seeped into the character's essential fiber that its remarkable that Englehart's name isn't more widely-known. Of course, part of why it's not is simply the way Hollywood and TV function, which is highlighted in this specific case. When you see the credits for this episode, you'll see that it's "Written by Paul Dini." Of course, the story is Englehart's and they even use segments of the dialogue ("Jokerburgers!") from Englehart's story. I pointed that out to him when I ran into him at a comic show about a year after the episode aired. He nodded and said that he had been paid a substantial "service payment" in lieu of a credit. Since he was under a work-for-hire contract when he'd written the story, like the vast majority of comic writers and artists of that time, he probably didn't have much choice. Just the same, it still rankles me every time I think about it.

Thankfully, Dini not only used the dialogue but stuck to the main elements of Englehart's story, as well. In the years since The Batman had returned to being the Darknight Detective, rather than "good ol' Batman", the Joker had still lagged behind the change in tone. He was still the Clown Prince of Crime, with the emphasis on the "clown" part. A bit more serious and threatening, but still more bizarre than he was dangerous. Englehart changed all that. In The Laughing Fish, The Joker is a homicidal maniac whose actions can't be predicted, making him terrifying to anyone and everyone. Dini kept that perspective, using the laughing gas made of Jokervenom that the character would then use forever after, in which victims are killed and die with a rictus grin on their face, reminiscent of the villain himself. 

As BTAS was still aimed primarily at children, Dini couldn't show The Joker's intended victims actually dying (Batman would rescue them and be rescued himself with last-second antivenom doses), but it was still easily the most eerie of situations in the series' history. The character is also at his most menacing, as he regularly threatens the copyright official (G. Carl Francis; played by George Dzundza) with death, which isn't something that regularly happens in the series, other than the usual threats to our hero. The presence of Harley Quinn does spoil the presentation a bit, as she's an intentionally goofy character who doesn't mesh very well with this more menacing version of The Joker.

This is also one of the episodes where Harvey Bullock (most frequently played by Robert Costanzo) functions less like a corrupt buffoon and more like an actual hard-boiled cop who doesn't want to be upstaged by the guy in the bat costume. It's Harvey, of course, who first finds The Joker's hideout and tried to finish the job of apprehending the villain. It's a story that's more grounded in the noirish elements that the series was rooted in than the previous episodes. Since it also features The Batman's greatest opponent, it's hard to look at this as anything but among the very best three or four episodes ever produced, even if the plot itself is relatively straightforward in a "villain of the week" style that has often made superhero comics even more formulaic than they typically are.

Those noirish elements persist right through the conclusion, with the villain disappearing under the water, The Batman doubting that he's actually gone, and the shark devouring the floating card as the dénouement. This is what the series should have been even more often and it's necessary to see it to really understand how great Timm and Dini's (and Englehart's!) efforts were. My one complaint is the title card. It was a departure from the neo-Gothic art style used in most of the rest (until season 4) which were mini-representations of the episode that resembled 1930s movie posters. Instead, this one had a very simple font and no real character at all, which is disappointing.

Dystopia; or briefly The Thing That Describes a Lot of My Mindset About the World

Jeff Donaldson and I were the main figures in a comic studio that Jeff started almost 34 years ago. The studio ran for almost the entire decade of the 90s before economic factors (lack of distribution, lack of money) shut us down. A few months back, Jeff told me that he'd started drawing again with a new program and wondered if I was interested in digging up some of the old material that I'd created for said studio- Fifth Panel Comics -and seeing if we could produce it as a Webcomic. I signed on and here we are:

https://www.dystopia.ink/

Dystopia is a multi-genre setting somewhere in middle America that was basically a way for me to introduce a lot of concepts that I hadn't found a home for, as well as a way for everyone involved in the studio at the time (somewhere in the range of a dozen people, but really a half-dozen "regulars") to collaborate on the same project, if they chose to do so. I explain a lot of this here: https://www.dystopia.ink/2024/04/20/the-origin-story/ which is the almost-first post on the News page of the site. At the moment, when you go to the News page, you'll see the most recent post, but then have to scroll down to see the older ones. I'll figure out how to rework that at some point. Anyway, all of the posts on the News site describe the basic background of the setting, how we wanted to implement it, and what the idea is for the future. The comics, OTOH, are here:

https://www.dystopia.ink/comic/

When you first arrive on the site, you'll automatically see the last page that Jeff has completed and can use the controls to shift to the beginning or to previous (and subsequent) pages and so forth. At the moment, we're beginning with a story based on The Rim, the top level of the city (Into Darkness), but we'll be moving around from there. Jeff is hoping to maintain a schedule of a page a week as we move forward. Meanwhile, I'll be posting more stuff on the blog page (News) and, for those so inclined, we've set up a Discord (linked on the Home page) and will be hoping to hear/see as much feedback as possible; not just on places like Facebook, but the site itself.

If you know anyone who likes comics, Webcomics, SF, horror, cyberpunk, or anything even vaguely related, PLEASE feel free to send them the link to the site. The most gratifying thing for me as a writer has always been for as many people as possible to read it and see if they get something out of it. Quite literally, the more the merrier, yo. Thanks and I hope (at least some of you) enjoy.

Batman TAS: episode #36: Robin's Reckoning, part II

Most of both parts of this story have to do with emotion. As the Darknight Detective, The Batman is frequently presented as divorced from emotion. He's the shadow of the night that implacably pursues criminals in the name of protecting Gotham City. But his image as presented often means that citizens are almost as nervous around him as criminals are. What softens that image to some is the presence of the much more human Robin, who not only cracks jokes but also wears a costume that's an absurd contrast from The Batman's deep blues and grays that keep him hidden in the shadows (except for the blazing target in the middle of his chest...) But Robin wears a costume emblematic of his circus background. The only problem is that, as presented in these two episodes, it brings him awfully close to matching the image of a clown.

The episode begins with Bruce and young Dick Grayson engaging in fencing practice. In the course of said practice, it demonstrates how enthusiastic, reckless, and emotional Dick is at his young age, which is understandable. The problem is that college-aged Dick is also just as reckless and emotional, which creates a contrast to The Batman not just in presentation, but in execution. The Batman is controlled, precise, and careful to protect both the citizens of Gotham and any activity that might threaten his identity and, thus, those around him. Robin, meanwhile, goes in guns blazing to every encounter. In this episode, it's presented as a consequence of pursuing Tony Zucco, the man who killed his parents. But it's also present in the previous episode before we even knew we'd be delving into Dick's past. It's also displayed by the younger Dick when he gets onto Zucco's trail, as well. Robin was created by Kane as a character for kids "to relate to" and imagine themselves being, working alongside The Batman. The problem is that most kids already imagine themselves being The Batman, rather than his goofy sidekick. But even if they were imagining themselves as Robin, instead of the Caped Crusader, they're now presented with an image of themselves being the most antithetical partner that The Batman could ever have. It's a really strange approach to both concept and story.

This is furthered by some of the story details and moments. At one point, we see crooks on the streets running and hiding because the Batwing is hovering over the streets. The Darknight Detective's whole approach is to be lurking around the rooftops, unseen, until he suddenly appears and terrifies them; such that they'll never know in the future if he's around the corner and, consequently, might decide to not engage in their nefarious activities. The idea that they'll have the opportunity to run and hide because they can hear the VTOL jets of the Batwing from blocks away doesn't suit the character's MO at all. This is alongside other mildly clumsy moments in the script, such as Paulie's Pool Hall, which seems like an obvious reference to a recent gangster movie of inordinate fame. Then there's Dick running into the stereotypical hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold when he's first searching for Zucco. Some of this seems like padding for a story that honestly might have been able to be told in a single episode, rather than two, and the reason for that padding is, of course, because it's Robin's origin story.

That emotional angle comes to a fairly explosive climax, as The Batman locates Tony Zucco's hideout when the latter is panicking about being pursued by him ("He's a dark angel a'death, man!") and Robin ends up reaching a moment where he could easily let Zucco fall to his death, only to be stopped by his mentor. That engenders an explosion from Robin where the most predictable line emerges: "You can't possibly know how I feel-!" when, of course, Bruce absolutely knows how he feels and Dick realizes it a moment later. This is accompanied by Bruce explaining that he tried to keep his ward out of this fight for fear that the man who took Dick's parents' lives might also take the life of what is effectively the only child that Bruce will ever have. The emotional weight attached to both of them in the course of this story does sell it better than the overall presentation, but it doubtlessly works better for actual fans of the Robin character. Next up is the greatest Joker story ever told: The Laughing Fish.

Batman TAS: episode #35: Robin's Reckoning, part I

My views on Robin as a character have been cited here before, so I won't go into great detail on them again. Needless to say, I am not a fan. Even if you could argue that he doesn't detract from the overall atmosphere of the stories (and I don't think you can), you'd be even more hard-pressed to argue that he brings anything positive, either. In Robin's Reckoning, part I, as the producers were giving credit to their audience by not dwelling on The Batman's origin story once again, it's fair to say that Robin's origin story is a little more obscure, especially with their having been three versions of the character by the time this aired, so you can understand why an episode (or two) would be committed to telling the story of the (sigh) Boy Wonder. They decided to proceed with the original, Bob Kane story, which was him being the scion of the Flying Graysons, a circus act that goes awry after contact with the local mob. It's the corniest of Robin origins, but may be the most appropriate. Where else but the circus would a kid his age develop the skills needed to swing around Gotham's rooftops with its hero? Besides, I always had a soft spot in my weird fiction attachment for strange carnies and the setting of the traveling circus, rolling from one backwater town to the next with the bizarre in its wake. That is the kind of aura that permeates The Batman's rogues' gallery, anyway, even if it doesn't describe the clean and family-friendly circus that is the locus of the Graysons' act.

But this episode begins with the grown, almost-adult Robin and his fairly extreme differences of opinion with his mentor on technique and responsibility. Unfortunately, it also emphasizes the youthful exuberance that doesn't seem to extend to recklessness but does make him seem goofy which is, of course, not The Batman at all. There's a sharp contrast there with an example of our hero's ruthless edge, as they let a gangster ("A contract saboteur, Robin.") hang from a girder 30 stories up, despite his complaints ("The cops wouldn't leave me!" "We're not the police...") When The Batman attempts to protect his sidekick from his own past, the latter reacts with justifiable outrage ("Stone cold, self-righteous-!") When we get into the actual origin story, I questioned at first why the writer and director felt it appropriate to show Robin's continual rage at being left behind, while it wasn't so to show the young Dick Grayson coming to grief over his parents' death, especially in his room at Wayne Manor when he pulls their picture from his suitcase. Was the idea that he was already hardening to be like his eventual mentor? Or perhaps that young boys watching the show would think that he was weak and not appreciate him the way writers of the comics (including Kane) and the show had always intended? ("Kids can relate to him!" No. No, they really can't.) Anger is OK to display but grief isn't? This is already a problem with our society. But, then, later they relent and do show tears on his face for about one second when Bruce comes to reassure him, so maybe my concern was misplaced.

They also return to that aura of real menace around The Batman, as he confronts a gangster with that shadowy silhouette and the cracking of his knuckles, confirming what's to follow if he doesn't get his way. He's still propelled by his anger in this situation, many years before, just as the older Robin is in the "present day" of the episode. His confrontation with local crimelord, Stromwell, is really well-paced and brings us back to that heavy noirish atmosphere. (That scene also displays the older costume with the chest-wide black bat, rather than the convenient target of the more modern suit.) There's also an excellent action sequence of dodging multiple bullets from a tommy gun, but seeing the actual effect of said bullets for once, as his cape shows the holes from the near misses as he dives over a barrier. It's those little moments of realism that continue to pay credit to the storytellers involved with the series. And all of this seems to be driven by that darker side of the characters in play. All of it is driven by rage, both The Batman's actions and Robin's reactions in the present day. Indeed, you could speculate that even the brief moment of grief on Dick's behalf is still driven by the anger at the injustice of it all. There's nothing wrong with that and certainly explains why the whole story was split into two episodes, as the implicit understanding is that anger can only drive you so far, whether it's seeking vengeance or getting irritated at being sidelined.

Despite my typical disdain for the character, the writing in this episode is quite solid and grounds our characters in those human emotions that are so essential to effective storytelling. The only complaint at the moment would be that both Robin and young Dick Grayson have the least solid roles in the story that is ostensibly about him/them. Part 2 is next, obvsly.

Batman TAS: episode #34: See No Evil

The original premise of the series was to take the darker form of Batman and still be able to present it as a cartoon that was deemed suitable for children. It was like the old saw about Warner Bros. cartoons. The slapstick was entertaining for the kids, but the underlying themes were catnip for intelligent adults, who could recognize the subversive nature of them. (One wonders how modern Republicans would react to the regular presence of Bugs Bunny in drag...) For the most part, Timm and Co. succeeded in presenting that dual nature in the majority of episodes of the series. But sometimes they came up a bit short and See No Evil is one of those failings. The plot is simple (crook uses invisibility suit to try to stay in touch with his daughter) but still has enough room for emotional depth. There are great atmospherics in the opening scenes outside of the house, with the blowing trash and leaves. It's very much a noir setting. But the episode quickly descends into enough camp to summon memories of the 1960s Batman, which is never a positive development, IMO.

We see the security guard needing to use the facilities and getting stalled by both the villain and Bruce Wayne changing into his alter ego. We see people at a watch/jewelry exhibition, reacting in almost feigned horror as they see their valuables disappear right in front of them. The villain exits the main exhibition hall right into a room with wet cement on the floor. It's all very obvious and clearly targeted at the low end of the appropriate age limit. In a seeming reference to DC comics of yore, the villain is named Lloyd Ventrix, which sounds an awful lot like Floyd Ventris, who was known as Mirror Man, a cheap super-scientist character from the 1950s; the era which was used as the basis for the 1960s TV series, so it all seems to be coming together here. There are many people who love that series and the more rock'em, sock'em nature of DC's heroes in that time period. I am not one of them and don't think it serves the character's overall interest.

All of that negative stuff said, due credit to writer, Martin Pasko, on this one for, at the very least, inserting enough emotional weight (the father clearly desperate to keep in touch with his daughter, but also clearly the progenitor of an abusive/predatory relationship with his ex-wife) to make these characters seem like real people. That's almost always a prerequisite for me and it also relegates The Batman to being the only one who doesn't seem to act like a human. Once again, we see him almost becoming the antagonist in his own series. But that also usually involves having a villain who has some edge of interest in his motivations. This one, while understandable, lacks the level of derangement that would keep him interesting, even as our hero attempts to stop him, not only to protect his former family, but also to prevent the villain from damaging himself with the very suit that he's using. There's a solid action sequence with The Batman hanging from the roof of a somehow-invisible car (which engenders the obvious joke from two bystanders that the car speeds past: "I didn't know he could fly...?") but too much of the story is spent in wide-eyed amazement at the prospect of someone being invisible, which has really been old hat in the entertainment world since Claude Rains. This is definitely among the lesser efforts of the series as a whole.

Two nights in Porto and one last one in Lisbon

So, yeah, Porto was generally a better experience than Lisbon, even for a day-and-a-half. Like I said, we were staying right downtown, so there was much more energy around our locale. That energy included repeated entreaties from the tchotchke shops to come in and check out the wares that were the same as any other shop that almost invariably appeared within a half-dozen storefronts, if not less (We were proudly told by one owner that he owned two other shops in that area, including one within 100 meters, so if we didn't find the size we were looking for, he'd just run over to the other shop.) It's like being on Decatur Street in the French Quarter; same shit, different door. The other popular locale was shoe stores. On St. Catarina Street, there were more shoe stores in a three-block stretch than I've seen in some whole towns. It was insane. Almost literally every third shop along the several blocks that we walked was a shoe store.

The big event on Tuesday was a river cruise on the Douro River, which is what runs right by Porto to the Atlantic. Porto is entirely on the north shore and the city of Gaya is on the south shore. There are a half-dozen bridges running between the two, some modern and steel, some medieval and stone, and a couple that are multi-level. But the follow-up to the cruise was a port tasting on the Gaya side. Now, as noted, our experience with port was not great, either in Portugal or outside it. The stuff we tried at the local market the night before was also not something I'd go after again (The olives, OTOH, were great.) But we had a tasting with local distiller, Calem, and this stuff was fantastic. I was mistaken when I thought that tawny port was rosé. It's just the most aged of port that changes color with the aging process, with ruby and white having less time in the barrel. That also gives tawny the most barrel character, as you might expect. After a tour of their distillery, where they tried to impress us with the size of their barrels, we tried a tawny and a white, both of which were excellent. They had balance. They weren't overly sweet. They had depth. We were immediately smitten and thought about shipping a couple bottles home... only to be brought up short by Michigan being one of the two or three states in the Union dumb enough to still forbid shipping alcohol, which I was hoping there might be a way around, but there isn't. I thought we were the only ones, but those new friends we met on the tour are from Rhode Island, which also doesn't permit mailing booze. It's just simple-minded protectionism for the local distributors; not even producers. One last, great example of legislatures (and attorney generals) that are effectively bought and paid for. That same problem is what prevents us from shipping home a bottle of ginjinha, which we'd become increasingly fond of while we were there.

We went from there to a restaurant down the street where I finally snagged a francesinha, which is a toasted sandwich of pork roast, ham, bacon, and linguica, over which is cheese melted by a super hot tomato-and-beer sauce. It sounds amazing. It was, in fact, excellent. Would gladly have again, except for the absolute calorie bomb that it is. (Even so, next time we come, I'm making room for one.)

Walking back to our hotel (A-cross the ri-ver!), uphill, in the high 70s, on cobblestone, and hauling 20 pounds of liquid (and glass) that we could get into carry-ons since each item is less than 3.5 oz... we came across a student band from the U of Porto. They were all young women and were all in uniform (white shirts, black ties, black knee-length jackets and skirts) and played a variety of instruments while also doing some mild dance routines and chants that sounded like something you'd associate with European students. I was struck again by the prevalence of traditional dress, right alongside the far more casual look that is emblematic of American students. They were great entertainment and we donated to their instrument fund. I was cramping up by the time we got back to the hotel. We definitely should've called an Uber.

Speaking of which, I forgot to mention before that the dichotomy(!) of cars we've experienced in both Lisbon and Porto is hilarious. The first three Ubers that we called were all driving white Teslas. Not just Teslas, but white Teslas. Every, single car we've had since those first three has been a standard transmission. It's like a step back in time from the modern, electric era to the 70s, since you almost never see standards in the US anymore unless they're full-sized trucks. It also highlighted once again the driving skill of most of them. We had a great dinner at 17, a restaurant on the 17th and top floor of a hotel a couple blocks from where we were staying that, as you might expect, gave us a great view of the city.

There's definitely a sense of rivalry between the capital and Porto, with the latter having a great example of that Second City sourness that Chicago exhibits towards New York. Our tour guide, a Lisbon native and resident, when confronted with the opinions of many in our group who cited how much more dynamic Porto was in comparison, were replied to with: "I am glad you like it. Porto, I am not a fan of." There was no explanation as to why. It was simply that she was on Team Lisbon.

In the morning, we got on the bus back to Lisbon, but made a stop in Aveira on the way; known as the "Venice of Portugal" for its many canals and salt pans, out of which it still produces a substantial amount of the domestic salt production of the nation and has been doing so for a couple thousand years, given the nearness of the ocean and the water that seeps into those pans. It's a pretty cool town, although we didn't see much of it. We took a boat tour of the canals and our guide was a great example of Western European language aptitude, switching easily between Portuguese with our pilot, some French tourists in the boat with us, and English for us; the latter two with no struggle and a near-perfect accent (or at least one not overwhelmed by his native Portuguese.) He was a Benfica supporter and, as I sat down in the boat in my Liverpool hat and Liverpool hoodie, asked: "So, you're a Liverpool supporter?" Me: "How could you tell?" We talked a lot about the game as the boat moved along, between his programmed descriptions of what we were passing by (including a public park with exercise machines, which was kinda cool.) It's always refreshing to find someone that really knows the game and can bring their own perspective to it.

We made it back to Lisbon and immediately set off for the Quake museum, about the 1755 earthquake (and consequent tsunami and fire) that basically destroyed Lisbon, leading to a public inquiry that was not only the first example of seismology as a science, but also modern urban planning. Of course, the most impactful result was the beginning of the Enlightenment (Why did the loving God destroy the capital and kill thousands of devout Catholics in devout Portugal on All Saints Day? "Mysterious ways", my ass.) Anyway, the museum is interesting and quite interactive. Then another solid dinner and a ride with a Bolt driver who was genuinely aggressive in his approach to traffic (and still with a stick shift), which was kind of entertaining. Still drove completely within the law, though.

2.5 hours after I wrote this, we left for the airport to catch our early morning flight to Paris and from there to Detroit. It was a really good scouting trip vacation and we even looked at home prices around Coimbra. Unlike our friend, I don't think I'd do the tour thing again. I just found it too restrictive and with too much time spent in front of things that weren't particularly compelling. We also ran into a couple Trumpers on our bus that I made a couple pointed comments to who then gave us something of a wide berth, which was fine by me. Fuck'em. In contrast, our new friends from Rhode Island were a ton of fun and we may try to arrange another meeting across the pond with them (or the other pond) at some point in the future.

Three days in a few small towns, part II

We spent that night in Fatima, which is the town in which a vision of the Virgin Mary apparently materialized to three children in 1917, telling them that World War I must stop and they needed to deliver her message of peace and life. Said message didn't sink in to two of them, since they died of the Spanish Flu a couple years later (the third lived on into her 90s) but it was apparently enough to attract hordes of Catholics to see the place of the miracle, if not the miracle itself, so there's a colossal basilica in town and they do processions all the time around various buildings/sites and whatnot. The hotel we stayed in was kinda podunk and the town is very, very dead when it comes to entertainment, so if the opportunity comes up when you visit the country, I'd skip it. All of that said, we didn't see a whole lot of said town, since we stopped at a giant gift shop for some reason, which was selling images of Mary and other religious tchotchkes, plus general ones. Most of the 45 minutes that we spent there, I was trying to keep track of Liverpool playing Arsenal, but if there had been anything else to do, I would've kept my head out of my phone. (As it is, we ended up with a 2-2 draw.) We did find a solid bistro with a guy who made really good burgers (again, catering to tourists), though.

The next day, we left Fatima and headed to Tomar, which is the locale of a massive Templar fortress/monastery complex that produced some of the best pictures of the trip. Sitting in the bistro the night before, Tricia had to suffer through a 15-minute lecture about just whom the Templars (and the Hospitallers) were and what happened to them. Our guide did a similar, albeit much shorter summary the next day when we arrived at the fort. On the one hand, she brought up the one fact I'd forgotten about the Templars essentially being the world's first bank. OTOH, she didn't say anything about the Hospitallers or the Crusades, in general, so if you want actual context with your history, I guess that's my (boring) role. I, at least, will not spare you the fact that the Templars were, in many instances, the equivalent of brigands in the Levant, and the Hospitallers were pirates in the last decades of their existence. Opportunists, all.

Nevertheless, as you can see, there was some cool stuff inside. Also, we had a bit of an experience with a woman who was outside the exit, selling dried fruit and other things from a cart to the by now hungry tourists. I didn't know that dried grapefruit is naturally bright green because of chlorophyll. I'm not normally a huge grapefruit fan, but this stuff was great.

Then we continued on to Coimbra, which turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. Coimbra is the former capital of Portugal and the home of its oldest university and one of the oldest in Europe. We had been looking hard at Coimbra in terms of landing spots because it's a college town, which both of us appreciate (both the one we live in and the much larger one next door) for the energy and dynamism that young people bring to local life. That vibe was more than evident in this particular college town from the moment we set foot in it. Not only can you see college kids running around all over the place, including many wearing the traditional cloaks/capes for being part of their various honor societies (which most of the people in our group immediately squealed about "because they look like Harry Potter-!"), but the town is almost equally dependent on their business as it is on hordes of foreign tourists. In other words, this Portuguese town had both the feeling of being oriented toward the Portuguese but also toward the wider world, as most university towns tend to be.

Like Obidos and Nazare, it's also still largely made up of twisting, medieval roads that gives the place part of its enormous character. The architecture of the university is accompanied by similar medieval and post-earthquake 18th-century constructions that still seem to fit right in alongside the modernist apartment and commercial buildings. Speaking of which, our tour guide pointed out some of the government buildings present in town as being built during the Salazar era and having the brutalist nature of Soviet architecture, so authoritarianism doesn't really change much from place to place and culture to culture, whether fascist or Stalinist. (Keep that in mind when it comes to voting on Tuesday, if you would.)

As with most of the major towns and cities in Portugal, there's also a fantastic river that flows right through Coimbra, separating the old town (north) from the new town (south.) We had some great food here at another hole-in-the-wall that we found (duck-and-orange salad with not typical oranges, pica pau (stewed pork)) and just generally loved every minute of it, including while we were marveling at a police van that rolled up right near our meeting spot, spilling out 8 or 10 polícía in vests and kneepads, with batons in hand, looking like they were going to make a bust. Turned out they were just going to get coffee(?) Our tour guide looked at me when they first emerged and said: "What did you do?!" I said: "I don't know. Be a Marxist? I thought you told me Salazar was dead!"

We did miss out on one thing that we were both really interested in, which is the famous library of said university of Coimbra. We know that it was available, because some new friends we met at the fado show who were on the adjoining tour were planning to stop in and had asked us about it in Nazaré. (We ran into them in almost every location we stopped, as you might expect.) Our guide didn't let us know it was an option until we got into town and, by then, there were no time slots open before we were scheduled to leave. So, something to see on the next trip, I guess.

Then we headed up to Porto for the next couple days. Where we're staying in Lisbon is apparently the "old town" which is heavily residential and feels more like many areas of Detroit, where you wouldn't be surprised to not worry about bumping into other people on the sidewalks, despite it being a huge city. We stayed in proper downtown Porto, which meant it had much more of a "big city" feel, even on a Monday night when we arrived. We couldn't walk 20 feet without having to dodge someone else and the city was very alive and lit and still working while we were out. The Mercado do Bolhão, a market similar to the Time Outs, was a couple blocks from our hotel, so we headed there to get something to eat. We tried some port for the first time since we'd gotten in-country (we were waiting to reach Porto) and it was still way too sweet, but not bad (This would change when we tried some genuinely good stuff...) Unlike my usual taste in wine, I liked the white port we had more than ruby (red) or what I thought was a rosé in tawny port. (I was wrong, as I'll explain.) Still can't find a decent porter anywhere in this country, though. The US is still far, far ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to beer. The best we were able to find throughout most of Portugal was a brand called Super Bock which doesn't actually produce bocks, but instead has your bog-standard lagers and an average stout.