BATMAN: “THE CAT’S MEOW” (1966)

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *psychological, sociological*

Here, courtesy of Stanley Ralph Ross once more, we have the first episode in which Catwoman is infatuated with Batman from the start, and he with her—which is how things started out with the duo in the comics.

“Meow” provides a textbook example as to the proper use of science-fiction doohickies in a BATMAN episode. The Princess of Plunder somehow obtains a device which can steal people’s voices—and though Ross is not consistent about the device’s nature, the voice-stealer requires much less suspension of disbelief than the Joker’s time-stopping box. Catwoman also seems to be using a lot of sound-related weapons throughout the episode, but their presence doesn’t seem obtrusive.

As with many super-crooks, Catwoman can’t resist showing off how smart she is. She’s released on parole, and pretends to have formed a singing-group with her henchmen and henchgirl, just to help her get intel on the arrival of famed English duo Chad and Jeremy. Then she promptly queers the whole deal by stealing Commissioner Gordon’s voice over the phone after he reveals to her the location of the singers—BEFORE she’s had her chance to ambush them. Though Chad and Jeremy are supposed to stay at Wayne Manor—making for some comic interactions with dithery Aunt Harriet—the villainess’s precipitate actions insure that she never has the chance to attack them at Wayne Manor. So she uses the voice-stealer to swipe the duo’s dulcet tones during one of their performances—which she could have done a lot more easily, had she not broadcast her intentions.

Of course, had she played it cool, she might not have had the chance to lure the Dynamic Duo into one of their best deathtraps: a gigantic echo-chamber, designed to reduce their brains to mush. It’s the perfect deathtrap for a villainess who really wants her nemesis alive and kicking, and the narration has fun with the idea that both Batman and Robin will be turned into love-slaves, respectively, by Catwoman and her henchgirl Eenie.

West and Newmar milked the “will-they-won’t they” vibe for all it was worth, and this may be the aspect of the comic book mythology that non-fans remember best. Here, and in the remaining Newmar episodes, Batman and Catwoman become embodiments of lawfulness and criminality, opposites that eternally attract one another. And, in contradiction of the usual narration, “the best was yet to come.”