Adam West as the "campy" Batman
© ABC
Why the Dark Knight Owes Adam West
By: Rob VauxDate: Thursday, July 17, 2008
It's easy to pick on him, I know. His bright, campy version of Batman seems relegated to a bygone era, one far too many people are eager to forget. They view his efforts as an active mockery of everything compelling about the character: the brooding pain, the hard-edged storylines, the notion of negative emotions channeled through Herculean will toward positive ends. Subsequent authors have resolutely adhered to that dark vision, starting with Denny O'Neil in the 1970s and continuing to the present day. Frank Miller honed it to a sharp edge, Tim Burton flourished it before the masses, Jeff Loeb moved it firmly into the 21st century, and Christopher Nolan's astonishing Batman Begins now stands as one of the best comic book movies ever made. We’ll withhold comment on The Dark Knight for the time being.
All Batmans Are Created Equal
West, on the other hand, is often regarded as a sideshow—a candy-colored aberration of silly irrelevance consigned to the trash heap along with Joel Schumacher's cinematic abominations. He's solely for the kids—strictly Mickey Mouse stuff—and don't you dare compare him to the likes of Christian Bale. Mania.com actually ranked West below George Clooney in their estimation of various movie Caped Crusaders. Why? Where did such hate come from? What is it about a lighter, more ebullient Batman that causes so much distaste?
For many people, it appears to be an either/or proposition. In their view, you cannot love, say, Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and the West show both… and by extension, any enjoyment of West is automatically an overt insult to Miller (and Nolan, O'Neil, etc.) But that narrow view point ignores the rich diversity of the character, which has allowed him to grow and thrive for nearly seventy years. No single writer or artist has the monopoly on who he is supposed to be. By dropping a figure as prominent as West because he doesn't fit a predetermined mold, you run the risk of limiting what the character can be—restricting him to an embodiment which has already been deeply explored and which can periodically stagnate when denied the opportunity to change. Would Batman be as great without O'Neil's groundbreaking run on the comics? Or Nolan's definitive origins story? Or the marvelous animated series from Paul Dini and Company, which captured so much of what people love about him? Shall we select one of those as the "proper" Batman and ignore the others? And if not them, then why on Earth should we ignore West?
In strictly financial terms, none of those latter-day visions would have ever seen the light of day without him. Sales of Batman comics had fallen precipitously in the 1960s and the title may have been dropped for good if the show hadn't given it a bracing shot in the arm. Its levity stands in contrast to later grim and gritty versions, to be sure, but it also ensured that the character would endure long enough for people like Miller and O'Neil to fully explore it. Yes, the campy tone and overt tomfoolery of the show tend to put people off. But those qualities came from the same joy and appreciation exhibited by every great Dark Knight contributor. West loved Batman as deeply as they did. He simply exuded it through a sense of absurdity rather than a more serious examination of the character. He always played by the rules of that show's universe, and because he believed in it so deeply, he made us believe in it too. His deadpan delivery and faux seriousness breathed life into his Gotham City no less than Miller's artwork or Michael Keaton's performance sold us on the unreal qualities of theirs. It was goofy, yes, but thanks to West, the goofiness became infectious. We were in on the gag just as much as he was, and he always made us feel welcome. (That's a key difference between the West show and Schumacher's movie disasters. Schumacher sold his "fun" by pounding us senseless with it, while West just extended his hand and trusted us to come along.)
The Light Knight Begets the Dark
More importantly, West's performance pays homage to the age in life when many of us first discovered Batman. Our early impressions of the character came with a healthy dose of wide-eyed innocence, arising from cartoons and comics that appealed to the wonder and excitement of the very young. More serious variations speak to us as adults, providing increased nuance and more complex stories to appreciate. But we arrived there from a gentler place, and while Batman would be a far poorer character without a grown-up approach to him, neither should we forget who we were when we found him. The best Batman authors have always acknowledged that connection, however obliquely. Burton and Nolan both slipped humor into their visions, Dini's animated series has its share of light-hearted stories, and even Miller wasn't above the odd bit of absurdity here and there. They understood a need to defuse the tension every now and again. They knew the shadows would never be quite so cool without a little light to throw them in relief, and that complexity comes from building on our childhood memories, rather than pretending they didn't exist. If you need a standard-bearer for that particular piece of Bat-zeitgeist—if you had to pick the one person who personified that all-important bit of childhood joy—then look no further than West.
And few other comic book figures have the strength to handle an occasional pie in the face like Batman can. As brilliant as he is, Superman sometimes struggles to stay relevant, and his nice guy image can't recover so easily from undue silliness. Marvel's superheroes always thrived on a dash of real-world verité that doesn't sit well with excess camp. Even in their lightest moments, they need some grit to stay grounded. But Batman? He's got Miller, Loeb, Nolan and the rest in his corner, each of them reveling in the character's darkest shades. No other superhero can claim such a treasure trove: no other exhibits such a broad and varied representation of the same grim themes. Any foundation that impressive can take the occasional ribbing with nary a shrug. If it's delivered with friendliness and good cheer—which West always had in abundance—it may even benefit from the experience.
That, in the end, is why Adam West remains so vitally important to the Batman mythos. He's the little reminder to enjoy ourselves, the voice in our heads saying it's okay to goof off once in awhile. A few others exist, but none so prominent, and they don't come armed with the pitch-perfect balance of satire and affection that he does. We have a wealth of dark and brooding takes on the character, and as great as they are, the loss of one or two of them would be covered by the remainder. Take West away, and a wonderful part of the Caped Crusader—a part no one else managed to capture quite so adroitly—would vanish along with him. I'm glad West is Batman for the same reason I'm glad Roger Moore is James Bond. Should they be the only version of those figures? Of course not. But the party wouldn't be nearly as much fun without them.
More From Mania
Bat Battle: Who's The Best Movie Batman Ever?
Comicscape - June 29, 2005
(Wednesday, June 29, 2005)
Batman Begins
(Monday, February 28, 2005)
BATMAN: YEAR ONE talk from producer
(Thursday, February 28, 2002)
'This Issue: Batman Dies!!!'
(Wednesday, December 6, 2000)
BATMAN: DARK KNIGHT DYNASTY
(Wednesday, October 25, 2000)
BATMAN: GOTHAM KNIGHTS - Devin Grayson
(Wednesday, October 18, 2000)
BATMAN & TARZAN: CLAWS OF THE CATWOMAN
(Wednesday, September 13, 2000)
See more related content
I thought it was great, even have the Batman: The Movie from the TV show. Campy and all but it did reflect what was going on in the comics back then so at least the feel was faithful to the source.
Batman does owe the show, the show gave him and his villains more exposure, kept him on the spotlight. It might also be responsible for causing all the gay talk though lol. Remember the bat dance? Catwoman was hot!
Did the TV series ever come out on DVD?