BATMAN: “DEATH IN SLOW MOTION” (1966)

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

Dick Carr’s “Death in Slow Motion” is one of the the last BATMAN ’66 scripts to be based on an original comic-book story, “The Joker’s Comedy Caper” (DETECTIVE COMICS #341, 1965). In the comic books some Bat-villains waxed and waned over the years, but the Joker was a reasonably regular presence in the ten years prior to the TV show. “Caper,” written by John Broome, puts forth the idea that the Clown Prince of Crime decides to start patterning his crimes upon the routines of old silent-film comedians. Perhaps as an in-joke for more learned comics-fans, Broome replaces the names of the actual comedians with phony cognomens: Charlie Chaplin becomes “the Tramp,” Buster Keaton is “Deadpan,” and Harold Lloyd is “Specs.” The Joker’s big score, however, is that he plans to use these crimes to get in the good graces of a wealthy film collector, whom he will then rob. Late in the story, the villain confesses to his henchmen that he didn’t have to go through all of the comedy-robberies; that he and his thugs could have just broken into the rich man’s house and ripped him off—but he, the Joker, chose to do things in his own quirky style.

“Slow Motion,” however, is a broader, if camped-up, salute to the Silent Era of Hollywood—and the title is perhaps accidentally ironic, since films of the silent era often seem to be running in “fast motion” when not shown so as to compensate for differing film speeds. Patently, the pre-sound period was the era of the first cliffhanger-serials, to which BATMAN ’66 was somewhat indebted. To be sure, the immediate inspiration for adapting the Caped Crusader to TV may’ve come about in reaction to a later serial, since in 1965 Hugh Hefner ran the 1943 BATMAN serial at his Playboy Club Theater in Chicago, garnering good box office from audiences who largely laughed at the antiquated chapterplay. Not all interested fans believe that the one event influenced the other, but it’s beyond contradiction that from the first episode, Semple and all the BATMAN ’66 writers strove to draw on the tropes of old serials to please both juvenile and adult TV-audiences. Carr’s script extends this self-referential conceit to silent cinema in general, rather than just serials, or, for that matter, Broome’s concern with silent comedies.

As far as the TV-show was concerned, the Riddler was a much better representation of the power of irony than was the Joker, and so the substitution of Gorshin’s Riddler for Romero’s Joker proves fortunate for a number of reasons. The episode opens when Carr’s version of the eccentric film collector, Mister Van Jones, has just screened an old silent comedy for the delectation of Gothamites. Into the theater struts Gorshin, dressed as Charlie Chaplin and doing a good parody of the comedian’s style. His henchmen, dressed like the Keystone Kops, chase the phony Chaplin around, amusing everyone in the theater except Van Jones. Then the disguised Riddler rips off the theater’s box office, hurling down a riddle-gauntlet to Batman and Robin once more.

Though other comedians are referenced in Carr’s script—and by their own names this time—the Chaplin-impersonation is the only time Gorshin imitates one of the cinematic funnymen. However, like the Joker in the comics-story, Riddler has his henchmen continually film all of their comedy-themed capers, and for the same reason: to use these amateur slapstick flicks to get in good with the eccentric millionaire. Two of the henchmen are named after famed movie directors who began in the silents, respectively Erich Von Stroheim and Cecil B. DeMille, while Riddler’s gang-girl—described as a would-be actress, “a star that was never born”—takes the name “Pauline” after the most famous female character in silent serials.

Though sometimes the Riddler’s capers concentrate on comedy tropes like pie-throwing and Pauline dressed in a Bo-Peep costume, the villain also borrows from the familiar tropes of silent serials, as seen in the mid-episode cliffhanger. In this deathtrap, Riddler has chained Robin to a log atop a conveyor-belt, which leads the proverbial buzzsaw. The breathless narration insists that this time Batman will not rescue Robin in time—which proves half-true. Batman doesn’t show up at the fake sawmill in time, but it’s a mannequin of the Boy Wonder, not the real thing, rhat suffers the blade. (Incidentally, Riddler shows up in this sequence dressed in the gear that has become known today as the “Snidely Whiplash” look.) Riddler has another doom in mind for Robin, which involves filming the junior crusader perishing in a re-creation of a famous Harold Lloyd stunt. Had Batman not arrived to save Robin—however inprobably—did Riddler intend to show this rather grim denouement to Van Jones?

In “The Bookworm Turns,” Batman took the villain’s henchgirl to the Batcave to use a hypnotic Bat-interrogator on her. This time, the police have taken Pauline prisoner, so Batman encourages Commissioner Gordon to accompany him to the Batcave in order to grill Pauline (patently, with no consideration of her Fifth Amendment Rights). The sequence is less interesting for Pauline’s hypno-interrogation than for the way Neil Hamilton’s Gordon acts the total fanboy over the wonders of the Batcave.

Once again, as the ending looms nigh, the Dynamic Duo are given a riddle-clue that seems to point them in a wrong direction. Riddler and his thugs, all dressed like cowboys, show up at Van Jones’ home and attempt to steal (for the purpose of later ransom) his exclusive copy of silent classic “The Great Train Holdup”—a.k.a. real-life classic “Great Train Robbery.” Batman and Robin show up to ring down the curtain on the Riddler. The closing coda, rather than building on all the Hollywood referentiality, chooses to end with a sweet familial gesture. Aunt Harrier, waiting to go to a luncheon for her birthday with Bruce and Dick, meets her idols Batman and Robin, who show up to wish her happy birthday. Given that Aunt Harriet spends most of the series unaware of the events around her, this ending provides for the character a decidedly un-ironic bit of sentiment in a series steeped in ambivalence.