Leave Your Umbrella Guns at the Door: The Penguin Episode 1 Review
Can a gangster really be a hero? In a city like Gotham, anything’s possible. Last Thursday, the first episode of The Penguin, titled “After Hours,” premiered on Max. Picking up after Matt Reeves’ The Batman (2022), it follows Falcone mob enforcer Oswald “Oz” Cobb (Colin Farrell), AKA “The Penguin,” in the aftermath of the Riddler’s (Paul Dano) attack on Gotham. In the shadow of the bat, it’s the Penguin who seizes his opportunity while the city, and the mob, lies in ruins.
My spoiler-free review of episode 1 is that if you love Matt Reeve’s take on Batman, or just good crime television, you’re going to love this. From the jump, The Penguin proves that it’s not just a spin-off or follow-up, but a unique story about a distinct character in this new imagining of Gotham. It’s exciting, dangerous, and at times, beautiful. It has the soul of a classic crime tale with modern, bleeding-edge wit. A little bit of old and mixed with a little bit of new is exactly why The Batman and The Penguin are so distinct as comic adaptations as well as crime stories. Beyond is my in-depth review, so go on and split if you don’t want spoilers in your cement shoes.
Spoilers Below
The inciting incident of the show comes in the first scene, in which Oz, attempting to score an old stash of whacked mob boss Carmine Falcone’s, is caught by his son, Alberto (Michael Zegen), the new heir to the mob’s throne. Oz tries to cozy up to Alberto and tells him that he could be like an old gangster he used to know as a kid, one who took care of people, so much so that his neighborhood threw a parade after his death. Alberto only laughs, and Penguin puts five rounds on him for it. This scene is character defining, already telling us more about Penguin than The Batman had previously. Deep down, Oz wants to be a man of the people, like Batman is. Where they differ is that Bruce has dreams of justice and Oz has dreams of power. Batman wants to save the city where Penguin wants to take it. They’re both influenced by old glitz and glamor cinema, except Batman is Zorro, and Penguin is the thug with the Tommy gun that’s always defeated by movie’s end, and he proves that when he kills Alberto.
While disposing of the body, Oz runs into a group of kids trying to jack his car and enlists one of them, Victor Augilar (Rhenzy Feliz), to help him. When the job is done, Penguin means to kill him, but Victor makes himself useful as Oz’s man. Victor’s introduction is hurried, but their mentor-mentee relationship quickly blooms. They bond over growing up in the same part of Gotham. What they have is wholesome, but I could see it going from “Batman and Robin” to “Walt and Jesse” very quickly. For now, however, their relationship is brimming with potential, as they both have big dreams and need each other to achieve them.
What adds more layers is Penguin’s status as a disabled character. Newly added to the show is Oz’s limp, caused by a club foot and its necessary brace, which gives him a kind of waddle. Victor is also seen to possess a stutter. It’s clear that Oz sees more than a lot of himself in Vic. He frames his power grab as a necessary step for “guys like us,” those who are seen as poor and weak, to take. Oz is one part Walter White and another part Tyrion Lannister, making him an intoxicating presence to follow.
Alberto’s murder puts Penguin in opposition with his sister, Sofia Falcone (Cristin Miloti), who has just been released from Arkham Asylum. She and Oz have as-of-yet undisclosed history. She’s onto him about Alberto, and by the episode’s end, has Oz captured and tortured. Cristin Miloti is simply scene-stealing. Just barely under the surface, not even an inch, is a molten rage just waiting to erupt. We only see a small portion of it during Oz’s interrogation, and even that is terrifying. She’s smart, vicious, and clearly more cut out to be the head of the crime family than her brother was. Oz killed one competitor only to line up the next.
Character, plot, and pace effortlessly intertwine as Oz’s every action propels him further and ripples across Gotham’s underworld. For example, Oz visits his mother (Deirdre O’Connor) to take her away from the city, but instead, she tells him to lock in and sweep the board instead of giving up the game. On his way out, he watches Rita Hayworth on the TV in the 1946 classic noir film Gilda, singing “Put The Blame On Mame,” musing that it doesn’t matter who Mame is, just that she’s a scapegoat. Then he sees Salvatore Maroni (Clancy Brown), former head of the Maroni mob and currently imprisoned thanks to Oz turning coat. By the end of the episode, you realize that Oz created a power vacuum, took advantage of it, recruited a trustworthy henchman, and pitted his rivals against one another by pinning Alberto’s murder on Maroni, thereby clearing his name. Brilliant. It took me a second watch to realize he got the idea from Rita Hayworth herself, and Maroni was his Mame.
Gotham is just as much of a character as anyone else in this story. The city’s gothic, nocturnal beauty is something Batman himself often muses about, and so will I. The art-deco offices of the Iceberg Lounge and the grimy, neon streets are all typical Gotham visuals, but I appreciated seeing the junkyards and suburbs of the greater Gotham area. There’s a feedback loop here between character and setting. The more we learn about Oz, the more we learn about Gotham, which better informs our view of Penguin, and so on. Gotham feels like a real city with real people living in it, from the socialites to the ladies of the night. And it’s in New Jersey!
This episode left me in awe of Colin Farrel’s performance. He entirely disappears into this character as the hair, makeup, and prosthetics transform him completely. The extremity of the visual change does beg the question: why not just get someone who actually looks like this? Farrell is obviously killing it. The voice and mannerisms add up to an engaging, distinct performance, but it’s hard to appreciate when I can’t even see the man under all that makeup. Additionally, sometimes it’s hard to really see Penguin—monocle and umbrella gun—in this adaptation. I’m by no means a Penguin scholar, so I’ve largely been enjoying the show as an almost entirely new take on the character. But changing the name from “Oswald Cobblepot” to simply “Oswald Cobb” is silly, right? What, “Cobblepot” is too comic-booky but the guy in the bat costume isn’t? Embarrassing.
Showrunner Lauren LeFranc has dashed any hopes of seeing any semblance of comic book Penguin or even hearing the moniker spoken. Stripping back the more exaggerated elements of the character is understandable in this gritty setting, but I can’t see the name change or the refusal of the moniker as anything other than disrespect to the source material. I suppose the umbrella Oz carries in the opening scene is supposed to be some treat for the fans, but it’s a pathetic gesture. You’re making a show called The Penguin. Put a gun in that umbrella, cowards.
Going forward, I can dimly hope for appearances from some small-time Batman rogues like Deadshot, perhaps as a mob assassin, or Dr. Hugo Strange at Arkham Asylum, but I know better. A new drug for Gotham’s streets is being teased, and I could easily see this being Venom, the performance enhancers Bane is known for using, or a prelude to Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Truthfully, a Robert Pattinson cameo in the form of Bruce Wayne’s street persona “Matches Malone” would be quite the treat.
The last thing of note is the music. Composer Michael Giacchino did the music for The Batman (as well as Lost and The Incredibles, among others,) and his son, Mick Giacchino, is composing for The Penguin. Penguin’s theme, “Scherzo for a Flightless Bird,” fits the same sound profile established by The Batman with its heavy, dark instrumentation, but cuts back on the brooding and ups the mania. Reserved one moment and explosive the next, its Penguin in musical form.
The Penguin is off to a fantastic start. Its sets, music, and writing are just as good as its big brother The Batman, proving that TV isn’t a step down from the silver screen. Sure, Penguin doesn’t have his trademark top hat and monocle, but in exchange, he perfectly contours to The Batman’s universe, which brings a new level of depth, and danger, to the classic villain.