Matt Reeves’ recent adaptation of the caped crusader in The Batman felt like a drink of cold water on a scorching summer day. It stood completely alone, required no other films or TV shows to understand what was happening, and most importantly, it was really good. That said, I couldn't have been more apprehensive about the latest entry in Reeves ‘self-proclaimed “Batman Epic Crime Saga,” The Penguin. Even if it starred Colin Farrell – one of my favorite actors – in the lead, I was still nervous about the direction Reeves was taking his franchise. Call it a case of pattern recognition in the current landscape of superhero movies and TV shows, but my expectations weren't exactly through the roof. As trailers and marketing material rolled out, my mind continued to shift, but I still wasn’t convinced. Now that the show is over, however, I’m more than happy to admit that my cynicism was dead wrong. 

The Penguin follows Oswald “Oz” Cobb (they shortened his original last name, “Cobblepot”) as he navigates the wreckage of Gotham City that was brought on by the Riddler’s terrorist attacks in the previous film. The city’s in ruins, the previous mob boss is dead, and the throne is up for grabs. The Penguin isn't the usual villain story we've seen in things like Todd Phillips’ Joker films, as this series’ main goal is to demonize its protagonist rather than humanize him. You start the show rooting for Oz, wanting him to climb up to the top by any means necessary. By the end of the show, you're wondering why Batman himself hasn't pummeled the fucker into next week. The series does such an excellent job at creating a truly despicable, reprehensible, downright evil protagonist in Oz, and so much of that boils down to the performance from one Colin Farrell, at the top of his game. 

I've been a fan of Farrell for years now, to the point where I have a t-shirt with his face on it, but his turn as Oz is some of the best work of his whole career. His charisma is off the charts, which makes you empathize with a character who is otherwise completely unlikeable. Aside from being completely unrecognizable behind his cosmetic makeup, Farrell embodies this role to an intense and (hopefully Emmy-winning) degree. He’s funny, sure, but he is unbelievably manipulative to the point where we don’t realize that we are even under his spell too. Once the silver-tongued and gold-toothed facade of Oz starts to unravel and we see who he truly is, the more we realize how irredeemable this guy is. Within eight episodes, Oz goes from a semi-likeable asshole into a genuinely demented individual. No hyperbole, the last fifteen minutes of the finale are some of the most disturbing sequences I have seen in a very long time. 

Within the last decade, Colin Farrell has transformed himself from a mostly miscast action hero into one of our most celebrated character actors working today. I don’t think he was ever meant to be this big macho action hero like he was in the 2000s, it’s abundantly clear that Farrell is made for these more complex and challenging roles rather than just being a handsome face. It’s safe to say that he is in his prime right now, and his role in this is no exception. Farrell has already confirmed that he will star in Reeves’ follow-up film, The Batman Part II, which makes me so happy to know that there’s more of Oz’s story to tell. 

On the subject of acting, the excellent supporting performances from Cristin Milioti and Rhenzy Feliz round out the series and make the eight-hour endeavor all the more memorable. Milioti stars as Sofia Falcone, the daughter of mob boss Carmine Falcone. Since Falcone was killed by the Riddler in the previous movie, there’s power waiting to be usurped. Sofia, having been sent to Arkham Asylum before the events of the film or the series, is finally out of her “rehabilitation,” and is ready to take the mantle of the boss of the family. Her cold demeanor is accentuated by her absolutely hilarious eating habits, which I’m sure Milioti included after her tenure on How I Met Your Mother. It’s crazy to me that this girl has had a performance like this in her the whole time, and it’s only been tapped into so soon. Aside from a surefire Emmy nomination, Milioti has an outstanding future ahead. Like Oz, you root for Sofia while she does reprehensible things, but you understand Sofia’s struggle more than you understand Oz’s. In a flashback episode, you see Sofia’s fall from grace which results in her eventual institutionalization at Arkham, which contains some of the hardest-to-watch scenes that I’ve seen in anything comic-book-related. Sofia is a victim of her circumstances through and through, while Oz twists his circumstances for his own gain.

The heart of the series lies within Rhenzy Feliz’s heartfelt performance as Vic, a teenager that Oz recruits after Vic tries to steal Oz’s hubcaps. Anyone with the slightest bit of comic knowledge can see that Vic is very reminiscent of Jason Todd, the second Robin in the Batman canon. Vic and Oz meet in the same way that Jason meets Batman in the comics. The parallel is there for sure, but the direction these characters take is so much darker than anything involving our beloved Bat-family. Vic is the stuttering and bleeding heart of the series, and his presence makes Oz’s much more tolerable as a result. Even if Oz is clearly turning Vic to the dark side as the days roll by, the scenes where Oz and Vic are just hanging out and being friends provide an essential emotional hook to characters that one would otherwise completely despise. As opposed to Oz and Sofia, Vic is a completely original character, and he manages to be the most sympathetic out of the bunch.

What makes The Penguin so refreshing to me is that Reeves has already confirmed that you don’t need to watch it before The Batman Part II. I’m so sick of having to watch eight or more hours of an okay-at-best Marvel series before I go and watch one of their feature films. It doesn’t feel like I’m watching these for my own amusement anymore; it feels like I’m doing homework. Having seen The Batman would certainly help to contextualize what’s going on in The Penguin, but the first two minutes or so of the show are a recap of the first movie, so viewers who haven’t seen The Batman don’t need to do any homework either. This model is how comic book narratives should be told, rather than the grating “Next time, on…” format. Aside from the lack of prerequisite knowledge before watching the show, another reason why The Penguin is so compelling to me is that it’s only a comic-book narrative by title and character alone. 

The Penguin is a crime show at its core. It exists at the crossroads of Boardwalk Empire and The Sopranos, and showrunner Lauren LaFranc and executive producer Matt Reeves clearly know that. Reeves isn’t a stranger to wearing his influences on his sleeve, whether that be the David Fincher-esque aesthetic in The Batman or the “Ape-ocalypse Now” graffiti in War for the Planet of the Apes, and The Penguin is no different. Like Reeves’ other work, the influences manage to translate into something that feels original nonetheless. It’s so realistic to the point where I have trouble processing that a guy in a bulletproof bat suit and a fucked-up guy with clown scars exist in the same universe as this show. There’s nothing comic-book-y about it other than the fact that characters from the comics are in this show, and it really works to the show’s benefit.

The Penguin is another slam-dunk into Matt Reeves’ broader “Batman Epic Crime Saga” (we really have to come up with a new name) that left me hankering for a follow-up like a rabid dog. Reeves has already confirmed that The Batman Part II is on the way, and I’m ready to see Batman come into the fold so that Oz can get his just desserts. Even if you’re not a fan of superhero stuff, or if you haven’t even seen The Batman, The Penguin is eight hours worth of fantastic character work from one of our best actors working today. After seeing the last shot of the show (which was so awesome that I could’ve jumped through my ceiling), I’m getting hungrier for more of what Matt Reeves is cooking up by the day. Run, don’t walk.