Gotham "Lovecraft" Review: Two Peas in a Very Dangerous Pod
Gotham S01E09: "Lovecraft"
Welp, that was a wash—but I mean the whole "Lovecraft did it" theory, not the episode itself. The episode itself was actually really great, in part due to its efforts to blow holes in Harvey Dent's case immediately, rather than waiting until five episodes from now when we're invested in it.
No one was invested in Lovecraft. Even Gordon wasn't particularly taken with the angle. He was practically a non-player from the start, and being attached to such an iffy storyline as solving the Wayne murders wasn't helping. It's like Selina said: It happened and sometimes there is no "why" and that sucks, but that's life. Get over it and then get a helmet. Or a cowl. Whatever. Selina has grown on me during her tenure at Wayne Manor, and at this point, her budding relationship with Bruce is one of my favorite aspects of the series (they play off each other so well that it's easy to see where Bat's soft spot for Catwoman comes in). That and Penguin playing both sides of the mafia, of course. Love him.
In "Lovecraft," a league of assassins (the League, perhaps? What do we think?) descended on Wayne Manor, Alfred kicked SO MUCH ASS (he does have a military background in the comics, after all) and Bruce took off with Selina for a tour of Gotham's seedy underbelly. Or, you know, just Gotham.
It's taken some time to get to where we are, and I do still groan whenever we have to see Bruce doing something weird and disturbing as part of his Baby's First Batman Training (which, let's face it, is every freaking episode) as though we'll all forget who he is and who he'll grow up to be. However, "Lovecraft" was the first episode of Gotham I can think of where Bruce's latest step toward becoming Batman was actually interesting. Sure, Batman can throw the best punches and hold his breath for a billion minutes and balance on a slippery ledge like a broody gargoyle—that's cool—but the practice required to develop those mad skillz just isn't that compelling to watch. But the psychological and social influences that form Batman's moral compass? Those are the stories I want to see explored with young Bruce Wayne.
We know that Bruce is the antithesis of a spoiled rich boy. He's proven himself to be generous and thoughtful time and again. He desperately wanted to help the children abducted in "Selina Kyle" and he considers Alfred his family, not the help. His hospitality toward Selina was obviously driven by more than the need to protect Dent's star witness in his parents' murders, and his feelings for her are genuine despite her being so far below him on the social ladder that she's not even on the bottom rung. Or in the same county as the ladder. Selina could (and is) a special case, but Bruce's interest in her world and sincere efforts to successfully navigate it illustrate his thirst for knowledge and knack for total immersion, both of which will factor into to the evolution of the "world's greatest detective."
In "Lovecraft," Bruce knew he was out of his element and took a backseat to Selina's expertise. It was necessary for his immediate survival, sure, but their adventure was also the sort of sojourn that enables big-picture survival for an individual. Bruce has no idea what he's constantly training for other than some vague aspiration of being brave and persisting. He isn't stitching up an anatomically correct bat-suit in his free time—as far as we know—but he's aware of his weaknesses, he knows there's a much larger world outside the ivy-decked walls of his estate, and he understands that both heroes and villains are often shaded in gray.
So many of Batman's future rogues aren't categorized as evildoers so much as they're written as disturbed, traumatized, and sick people who are driven to carry out fantastical crimes under the guise of colorful characters who are often more confident than they know themselves to truly be. There are exceptions, of course—namely, the Joker, Ra's al Ghul, the Joker, aaaand the Joker—but then look at the likes of Harley Quinn, Two-Face, Mr. Freeze, even Bane. There's a reason Batman isn't into outright killing his enemies, and it's not just because watching his parents die was enough trauma for one lifetime. In the comics, Batman's relationship with his rivals is deliciously complex, and in my opinion, a lot of that gets lost in translation between the books to the screen. Building a relationship with Selina Kyle as a child already implies that his familiarity with those aforementioned shades of gray will be a solid characteristic of Gotham's Batman. The appearance of a wee baby Ivy—and Selina admitting that the girl is dang creepy—was a cameo done right, and while I know that we'll most likely never see an adult Batman on this series, I'd love to know how their first meeting as adults in spandex goes.
Gordon's story was refreshingly Barbara-free this week, though it was also completely upstaged by the awesomeness of Alfred and Bullock breaking faces and making bribes in order to find their two lost babes in the big, bad city. In the end, he got beat up by an assassin, Lovecraft's death looked like a suicide in the fact of police harassment, and Gordon was demoted to Arkham Asylum rent-a-cop status. Sucks to be Gordon right now—except probably not, because I'm sure that creeping around Arkham, a.k.a. ground zero to pretty much all things Wayne-conspiracy related, won't way prove convenient or enlightening in any way, amirite?
Elsewhere, Penguin terrorized Liza (poor Liza) simply by existing, and Falcone actually acted like a dangerous, cold-blooded mafia overlord for once instead of some cuddly grandpa with a fetish for chicks who look like his mom. Fish Mooney was muted both by Falcone's super awkward dinner party and by Alfred appealing to her less-awful side in his efforts to track down Bruce and Selina. A toned-down Fish is something I can get behind. For the first time ever, she didn't feel like a cartoon.
I am by no means declaring the end of Fish Mooney as a terrible and terribly annoying character, but Gotham itself took a little while to find itself, and now it's the highlight of my Monday-night television viewing schedule—so there may be hope for Fish after all. Overall, the series has turned itself around. At this point, tweaking a few awful characters seems like small potatoes.
NOTES FROM THE BATCAVE
– Nigma's awkward hug. <3
– Gordon's exile to Arkham really hits home the point that Arkham is where Gotham hides all of its inconvenient citizens.
– How did "Lovecraft" alter any of your Wayne murder theories?
