The Penguin is an engaging crime saga

★★★★ | Waddle way to go

I wasn’t a huge fan of The Batman, which The Penguin is a direct sequel to. It was a decent enough picture, but too long, and too dour to make an impression otherwise. Just another Batman movie.

Luckily, HBO figured out that Colin Farrell was the most interesting part of that movie, and gave him his own series. Even better, The Penguin isn’t just a better product than its predecessor, it’s one of the best Batman stories ever made.

Set in the direct aftermath of The Batman, The Penguin finds Oswald ‘Oz’ Cobb wallowing in self-pity as Gotham burns. The Falcone crime family, his employer, is in shambles, and Oz is adrift as his place in the hierarchy comes under fire. An impulsive act of vengeance finds him in a position to make a difference, or die trying. Especially as the volatile Sofia Falcone (Cristin Milioti) returns from Arkham to stir the pot even further.

The series is about a loser trying to be somebody. It’s as classic a tale as anything set on the mean streets of other major cities. We recognize the beats, because there’s a universal aspect to these things. Oz isn’t Scarface or Carlito, but he can recognize them as peers. They’re men who are smart enough to know their limitations, yet arrogant enough to think those don’t apply to them. It’s a fascinating contradiction that drives them, and we want them to win, even when it’s clear from the outset they never will.

Right from the start, it’s clear that this is Farrell’s show. Even more so than just in name. He’s in nearly every scene, and it’s a powerhouse performance from a talented actor. A lesser performer could just phone it in. After all, it’s a comic book movie. But not Farrell, who injects life, tragedy, and humor into Oz at every turn. Before the first episode is over, we feel kinship to this odd, violent man. We want to like him, even against our better judgement. There’s a part broken in him that can’t be fixed. Yet he tries, and fails, and that makes him an underdog.

Milioti, in turn, is the perfect balancing act to Farrell. Where Oz is a monster searching for a way to become human again, Sofia is a monster barely pretending to function. Every word of hers sounds like a threat, and every gesture can lead to violence. Milioti is ferocious in the part, lovable one minute, terrifying the next. The scenes between her and Farrell crackle with dangerous energy.

The Penguin is a great series because it does two things right. It takes the material seriously, and not at all. Meaning it’s never light about the themes, but it never falls into the swamp of dour bleakness. Oz is a funny guy, or at least he tries to be. There’s warmth in his awkwardness, and the series leans into that. But it doesn’t laugh at him, and it doesn’t rely on comic book tropes to make a point. It shares the same insightful humor that a Martin Scorsese film might. It understands the underworld is a lie everyone agrees to. The rituals accommodate that lie.

More importantly, The Penguin feels like its own thing. It lives in a world separate from The Batman, despite sharing the universe with him. But there’s no homework for the audience. No necessity to understand another movie, or a lazy buildup for an advertisement for the next one. Instead, The Penguin is a story with an arc. It shouldn’t be a big thing, yet here we are. It’s a series that respects the audience’s time and dedication. We tune in because we know we’re getting a full story.

I didn’t think I’d be excited about another Batman series again. I’ve felt burnt out by them. The Penguin changed that. It’s a burst of energy into a franchise that needs it. A stellar expansion of Gotham’s myth that makes it a living, breathing entity. It does everything you’d want from a comic book series and ventures into the realm of high-quality television. It’s not The Sopranos, and it doesn’t need to be, but it’s a surprisingly similar meal. One that we should savor.

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