From the moment Colin Farrell limps into frame as the scarred and strange Oswald Cobb, it’s clear that The Penguin is going to be special. Set immediately after the events of 2022’s The Batman, the HBO limited series tells the story of the infamous villain in a grittier, more grounded version of Gotham, one that fits into the world Matt Reeves created for Robert Pattinson’s caped crusader a few years back.
As such, The Penguin feels much more gangster show than comic book series, like a slightly more absurd version of The Sopranos where an entire city can be flooded by a supervillain called The Riddler and a mass murderer can be released from Arkham Asylum and jump right back into her seat at the crime family table.
The Penguin and The Hangman
If I had to pinpoint what makes The Penguin so good, I’d have to choose two things: Farrell’s Oz and Cristin Milioti’s Sofia Falcone. The two actors absolutely chew on scenery whenever they’re on screen, pulling your eyes like mosquitos to a neon-blue bug zapper. Farrell plays Oz like a man split down the middle: at times calm, cool, collected, and calculated; at others, an exposed wire sparking dangerously close to a puddle of water. Oz can sweet-talk his way out of hairy situations, relying on a charm that he’s cultivated to counteract his appearance—an appearance that will consistently shock you, as you forget and then remember again and again that this is Colin Farrell (one of the sexiest men alive) under all of the impressive SFX makeup and prosthetics.
He is unrecognizable in this show, and not just because a deep scar bifurcates his chin and right cheek or because his pores are gargantuan or because he has gold caps on some of his teeth, but because Farrell’s body language, mannerisms, and voice are so lived-in, so legitimate. He’s sunk deeper into the role than he was in The Batman, wearing the suit like a second skin. He is The Penguin.
But Milioti (who you may know best from the Star Trek-inspired episode of Black Mirror, or as the Mother in How I Met Your Mother, or the co-lead in Palm Springs) doesn’t just hold her own in scenes with Farrell, she commands your attention just as much (if not more) than he does. As Sofia Falcone aka The Hangman, the daughter of Carmine Falcone and a convicted serial killer in her own right, there is a consistently bubbling cauldron of rage hiding barely below the surface, with Milioti’s huge eyes and perfect sneer telegraphing Sofia’s sadistic nature at all times.
In one scene, after Sofia’s cousin approaches her to reminisce about the good ol’ days at Lake Como, we see the cousin balk when her young daughter steps up to join the conversation. Sofia recognizes her cousin’s mood shift, and bends down to get eye-to-eye with the little girl, menacingly fixing her hair, a reminder of who is in charge, and what she’s capable of. Milioti, a New Jersey native, effortlessly adopts the patter of an Italian mafiosa, snapping her consonants and dragging out her vowels and spitting out curses with gusto. She is brilliant, and if both she and Farrell don’t get award noms for this show, then there truly is no justice in Hollywood.
A comic book Cosa Nostra
I watched five episodes of The Penguin and can safely say it belongs in the pantheon of great limited series like Sharp Objects, Chernobyl, and Band of Brothers. It is, front to back, nearly perfect—a pristine crime drama about conniving con-men and murderous matriarchs, with a kind, beating heart at its core: Gotham teen Victor Aguilar, AKA Vic, played brilliantly by Bronx-born actor Rhenzy Feliz. Feliz’ stammering and sweet Vic is swept into this world, with Oz becoming his de facto “capo” and forcing the young boy to adopt his casual cruelty as a means of getting a leg up in the still-underwater city of Gotham.
Oz cleverly carrot-and-sticks Vic throughout The Penguin, doling out punishment and threats in one breath and praise and prizes in the next. Because of Farrell’s brilliance and Feliz’ believability, you find yourself on the same rollercoaster as Vic: In one scene you’ll believe without a shadow of a doubt that Oz is a monstrous man undeserving of any kindness, and just a few moments later you’ll feel a pang of empathy for Oz, or a surge of pride as he congratulates Vic on a job well done. You can feel the allure of this world, the shimmering mirage of mafia life on the horizon. You can see the glittering, winking diamonds in the necklace Oz gingerly places on a woman’s neck and understand how someone could get wrapped up in this seedy crime world, how powerful the pride must be after pulling off an expert caper. After all, those in power don’t care about any of us, right? Why not take what we can get for ourselves?
The Penguin is well-written, well-paced, well-shot, and brilliantly acted—its episodes are succinct and smartly laid out, with showrunner Lauren LeFranc deftly weaving social commentary, heart-pounding action, familial strife, and black comedy throughout. TV and movies based on comic books can be so much more than guys in suits fighting across visually muddy CGI battlefields—Reeves showed us this with The Batman, and LeFranc takes the baton and streaks away faster than Sha’Carri Richardson. Expect this show to win awards, guys. It deserves it.
The first episode of The Penguin airs on HBO on September 19, 2024 at 9 p.m. ET. You don’t want to miss this.
.
