Streaming on: Sky / NOW
Episodes viewed: 8 of 8
Oswald Cobb was only on screen for three scenes in The Batman, but he left a huge impression. Beneath all the layers of impressive make-up, Colin Farrell’s surprisingly hilarious, scenery-chewing performance shone through, emerging as one of the film’s highlights. And with The Penguin, Oz gets a chance to be the hero of his own story over an eight-episode canvas, no Dark Knights in sight. The extra, non-prosthetic layers that are added on here — to both Oz, and the world of Matt Reeves’ Gotham — are satisfying proof that this more grounded take on the character warranted a full series.
First and foremost, then, this is a fascinating character study into what makes Oswald Cobb tick. Showrunner Lauren LeFranc wastes no time in setting up what’s driving this mid-level gangster to reach new heights: a desire to be seen, loved, and respected by everyone in his orbit. That goes double for his troubled mother Francis (Deirdre O’Connell), the person Oz cares for most. It’s the series’ most unique, intriguing dynamic, and pays off satisfyingly in later episodes.
Oz's constant scheming propels a well-paced and pleasingly unpredictable story.
Throughout, LeFranc pulls off the tricky balance of making the titular character feel sympathetic and even likeable, while never forgetting to remind us of his ruthlessness. From episode to episode, you can’t help but admire Oz’s cunning and chutzpah — he talks himself out of several situations by thinking quickly on his feet — as well as recoil at the vileness of his darkest acts. His constant scheming propels a well-paced and pleasingly unpredictable story that doesn’t wait too long to pull the trigger on big moments. Farrell is on superb form here, adding several subtle, vulnerable notes to the bigger and broader ones we’ve come to expect.
Also earning our sympathies is Cristin Milioti’s Sofia Falcone. Fresh out of an extended stay at Arkham Asylum, she starts out wanting a seat at her crime-family table. But though born into money instead of poverty like Oz, she slowly reveals herself to be the other side of the same coin. Like Cobb, she must claw and scrap for every bit of the respect she believes she’s owed. And as Sofia’s simmering rage rises to the surface, so too does Milioti up her own game, with a performance by turns delicate and volatile.
It’s this empathy for its characters — in particular Victor (Rhenzy Feliz, impressive), a young kid taken under Oz’s wing — that makes The Penguin so riveting. And with eight episodes to play with, no emotional, morally complicated arc feels short-changed. The Penguin wants to feel seen. We should oblige him.
