A young orphan watches his parents die, becomes traumatized, and works on his issues by embracing his fears and adopting a costumed identity to fight crime in his morally bankrupt and corrupt city, Gotham. We all know the tale, and we’ve seen it countless times on the big and small screens. However, amid the many Batman movies and TV shows over the years, especially those in the live-action realm, one stands out because of how refreshing and surprisingly insightful it is.
Fox’s Gotham premiered 10 years ago, in September 2014, on the Fox network, and while it didn’t necessarily revolutionize Batman’s origin story, it did recontextualize it. Presenting a new take on Bruce Wayne’s early years in the inter between his parents’ murders and his decision to become Batman, Gotham shined a light on this crucial and formative yet tragically ignored period in the future hero’s life. At first sight, it could be easy to discard Gotham as another origin story born during the TV superhero boom of the 2010s. However, upon closer examination, one can easily see it as a truly original and quite daring version of Batman’s youth that remains criminally underrated, even when it’s arguably the most inspired adaptation of the character we had in the last decade.
Bruce steps into the spotlight
One of the main issues modern Batman adaptations have is a distinct lack of understanding of who the character is. The idea that “Bruce is the mask and Batman is the real version,” popularized directly after Christopher Nolan’s game-changing Dark Knight trilogy, took over the character’s lore, with many treating it as gospel. However, that’s just a basic misread of who the Caped Crusader is, and while the approach was valid and fit with Nolan’s hyper-realistic take, it’s not who Batman is or, more importantly, who he should be. And yet, adaptations post-Nolan, from Zack Snyder’s misguided take on the DCEU to Matt Reeves’ crime noir in 2022’s The Batman, have actively sidelined Bruce in favor of showcasing Batman.
It’s not an either-or situation, something sadly few adaptations understand. This basic understanding is what separates Gotham from other versions of the Caped Crusader. The show focuses exclusively on Bruce Wayne — indeed, Batman doesn’t appear at all, save for a brief glimpse at his back during the last scene of the last episode. This approach doesn’t take away from the action or make the narrative less compelling; quite the opposite, in fact. David Mazouz is one of the best versions of Bruce Wayne we’ve ever seen. Starting the show at 13, Mazouz takes Bruce on a typical coming-of-age journey, albeit one infested with crime and a constant struggle to deal with the grief and trauma of watching his parents die before him.
Adding a coming-of-age twist to Bruce Wayne’s storyline is such a stroke of genius that it’s frankly shocking no one thought of doing it before. Mazouz looks his age and acts it, playing Bruce with a palpable mix of typical teen angst, enduring trauma and regret, and, as the series progresses, cocky confidence born from being a literal billionaire. He’s likable and easy to root for while also being slightly annoying and often frustrating, as a typical teenager is.
Seeing Bruce Wayne, usually a larger-than-life, elusive figure portrayed in such a simple and, dare I say it, approachable manner was far more refreshing than anything Nolan, Snyder, or Reeves did in their respective universes. It was a true reinterpretation of a familiar character, an insightful new way to look at a figure who many of us thought we knew inside and out.
Gotham‘s greatest strength is treating Bruce Wayne as a human being first and a superhero second. Like the all-time best adaptation of Batman, the masterful Mask of the Phantasm, Gotham uses its setting and narrative approach to explore Bruce’s rich and often contradictory psyche.
His inner turmoil takes center stage, showed through his most crucial relationships with the future commissioner James Gordon (Ben McKenzie), his trusted butler and surrogate father, Alfred (Sean Pertwee), and his on-again-off-again love interest, Selina Kyle (Camren Bicondova). By watching the aftermath of the decisive moment of Bruce’s life, Gotham recontextualizes the world’s greatest detective, adding layers to his already complex characterization and making him a richer, more engaging and fascinating character.
Embracing the color
Recently, the upcoming Max show The Penguin made headlines when the title character’s name was changed from the comic’s accurate Oswald Cobblepot to the duller Oz Cobb. The change, according to producer Dylan Clark, was born from a desire to give the character a more “grounded” tone; in their eyes, “Oz Cobb” was more “believable” and thus better. There’s no rule that says a comic book adaptation needs to be 100% accurate or treat the source material as gospel, but there’s something instantly recognizable here, a distinct embarrassment at being based on a comic book property. The word “grounded” has very much become a way for Hollywood to get rid of the sillier and campier aspects of a superhero in an attempt to legitimize the character as a “serious” IP.
This issue is especially prevalent in Batman adaptations. Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy proved superhero movies could be taken seriously by the industry, receiving Oscar nominations and even winning some statuettes, including a posthumous victory for the late Heath Ledger’s all-time great villain. It’s a valid approach, and creators are entitled to make the adaptation they want to make. However, there’s something so lame in trying to make a character who purposely exists in the fantastical more realistic and duller. Nolan, Snyder, and Reeves all tried it, with varying degrees of success, to the point where this more “grounded” version is Batman’s new normal.
Now, Gotham wasn’t exactly “camp” in the way the 1966 show was. However, it wasn’t the hyper-realistic, violent version desperate to be seen as “real,” either. Instead, it walked a delicate line between comic book-y flamboyance and police procedural with a healthy dose of teen angst. Take the show’s version of Oswald Cobblepot, played by the criminally underrated Robin Lord Taylor. In Gotham, Penguin is a medium figure in the city’s criminal underworld, much like he is in The Batman. However, Gotham embraces the eccentricities and stylish flairs that make Penguin… well, Penguin.
From a penchant for carrying umbrellas to a broken leg that never healed and left him walking with a limp, Gotham‘s Penguin is true to his comic book counterpart. Yet, Taylor’s performance is so detailed, so layered and lived-in that the character never seems exaggerated or unreal. In fact, Taylor’s Penguin is among Gotham‘s most evocative figures, an ambitious and manipulative man who climbs his way through the city’s criminal ladder through sheer force of will.
The same can be said for Gotham‘s version of iconic Batman rogues like Edward Nigma, played by a spectacular Cory Michael Smith, and the Valeska Brothers, the show’s take on the Joker, played by an outstanding and unhinged Cameron Monaghan. Gotham never shies away from the source material’s more foolish aspects; instead, it embraces them, seamlessly incorporating them into its world-building. The truth is, comic books and the superheroes that inhabit them are inherently silly, and that’s OK.
In fact, that’s one of the key aspects of Batman’s story: he is the outlier in a world populated by freaks and creeps, not because he isn’t those things — he is the biggest freak of them all — but because he chooses to oppose them in an effort to make sense of the chaos. The world is a madhouse, but Batman isn’t the warden — he is the patient who recognizes his delusion and uses it to keep everyone in check.
‘I’m an idea, a philosophy’
Gotham is pretty much everything a great Batman adaptation should be. It delivered the best Bruce Wayne since Mask of the Phantasm and proved that Batman doesn’t need to be opposed to his natural campiness in the realm of live action. Moreover, it arguably produced the best and most detailed Gotham City we’ve ever seen. From the numerous crime families and gangs vying for control to the many, many, many deranged individuals living in a perpetual state of arrested development, Gotham presented the ultimate version of the titular city, one that was equal parts alluring and off-putting, an alluring cautionary tale where the darkness came from within.
Few adaptations have such an understanding of their source material. Yet, for multiple reasons, Gotham was never a major hit. Sure, a large part of that came from the fact it aired on Fox during the last days of network TV before the rise of streaming. However, part of its status as an underappreciated gem comes from the looming shadow of Nolan’s and, now, Reeves’ Batman. But the entertainment landscape is big enough for multiple versions of Batman, especially when it’s as inspired and clever as Gotham.
For any fan of Batman or comic books themselves, Gotham is a must-watch. However, even those with a passing regard for the genre will find something to enjoy here. It doesn’t necessarily have something for everyone — it’s actually catered toward a specific audience that both enjoys and, more importantly, appreciates comic book storytelling — but it does have a unique, assured, and unabashedly self-aware voice. And in a television landscape where shows must be distinctive to the point of singularity, Gotham is truly one of a kind.
All 5 seasons of Gotham are available to stream on Max.
