The Penguin Always Had to End Like This

As a long-time fan of gritty crime dramas and someone who’s seen more than her fair share of antiheroes, I must say that “The Penguin” has managed to impress me with its portrayal of the titular character. The series masterfully navigates the complexities of Oz Cobbs’s character, revealing him as a chameleon who weaves his way through Gotham’s underworld.

Spoilers follow for the The Penguin finale “A Great or Little Thing,” which premiered on HBO on November 10.

Once Vic Aguilar informed his associate Oz Cobb that he viewed Oz as a ruthless criminal connected to his family, the young orphan’s fate seemed sealed. “You truly believe in good and evil?” Oz asked the boy at the start of their alliance, and it was clear this wasn’t a casual question – it was a warning, both for Vic and us.

As a devoted movie enthusiast, I’ve always been aware that Oswald Cobblepot, also known as The Penguin, has never shied away from his cruel nature. In his formative years, he brutally murdered his two brothers by confining them in an old, abandoned subway station and letting them drown. As an adult, he neglects his mentally ill mother, Francis, deceiving her about the fate of her sons while effectively abandoning his last living kin to climb Gotham’s criminal hierarchy.

In seven out of its eight episodes, the show The Penguin paid tribute to the antihero era of premium television. The character Oz shares the limp, top hat, and preference for purple (or as he claims to Sofia Gigante, plum) with his comic book counterpart, but also embodies Tony Soprano’s demanding mother and yearning for a normal home life, Walter White’s ruthless strategic thinking, and Jax Teller’s existential weight of leadership. This creative decision by showrunner Lauren LeFranc to link Oz with the TV icons we once rooted for effectively positions The Penguin as more indebted to the crime drama genre in general rather than specifically tied to the Batman mythos, and subtly redirects any remaining empathy we harbor for those characters towards Oz. Beneath his rough exterior and frequent displays of loyalty, Oz is a villain who works solely for himself, and it’s a remarkable feat of acting by Farrell to make him both likable with his rugged charm and endearing mannerisms, such as his throaty chuckles, affectionate pats on Vic’s shoulder, and witty remarks.

Before Oz commits the act of strangling Vic, robbing him, and disposing of his identification in the Gotham River, The Penguin challenges the limits of depravity its viewers can endure when it’s presented under the guise of populism. In the initial moments of the debut episode, Oz cold-bloodedly kills Alberto Falcone, a family heir, because Alberto mocked one of Oz’s stories about Rex Calabrese, a neighborhood gangster whom Oz admired for his compassion. Ironically, Oz is unaware that his mother requested Rex to take Oz’s life after she discovered her son had murdered his siblings, or that Rex was ready to comply. Removing Alberto serves Oz’s personal interests, but it stems from a sense of protectiveness and admiration – Oz refuses to allow Alberto to tarnish the reputation of a man who offered medical aid, financial assistance, and groceries to the community. In Oz’s view, such a person is beyond reproach, and he aspires to be like Rex, believing that his immoral acts are for the greater good of the community.

As the number of individuals under Oz’s control increased this season, he became more determined to portray himself as a symbol of equality. He resonates with Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5,” a song about struggling to get by and feeling unappreciated at work. He shares this sentiment with Vic, emphasizing the importance of unity among men like them who come from working-class backgrounds. Unlike the Riddler in The Batman, who accused the Wayne family of causing Gotham’s economic issues, Oz places blame on the mob bosses and manages to gain support from rival gangs by advocating for a fairer criminal system. In “Gold Summit,” he assures his followers that they will have food and clothing, and he coerces a city councilman into restoring electricity in Gotham’s lower-income areas. Farrell’s grunts of “It ain’t right” and “The real power comes if we got each other’s backs” are so convincing that one might believe Oz truly cares about their well-being.

Until you recall all the questionable actions Oz has taken this season, contradicting his pledges of protection – such as betraying or killing business partners (Sofia, Nadia Maroni and her son Taj) and underlings from rival crime families he claims to be helping elevate. When he told Vic, “I make myself small so they feel superior, and I get to go back to work,” it appeared to be a moment of genuine honesty: Oz’s every move is a facade, whether he’s humbling himself to make the capos feel more powerful or preaching social equality to gain loyalty from lower-level gangsters. He’s a shapeshifter, and The Penguin keeps the tension alive between Oz’s professed beliefs and his actual behavior until its dramatic climax.

A young man named Vic, whose family tragically perished in Gotham City’s floods, is portrayed by Rhenzy Feliz with a tender vulnerability. Despite his tough exterior, his last conversation with his father was a heated argument, and he unwittingly fell for Oz’s persuasive words about self-worth. Eager to prove himself, Vic even asked for a raise, accepting rejection without question. He turned down an offer to escape Gotham with the girl he might have loved, swayed by Oz’s promises of partnership. However, Vic was too trusting, leading Oz to exploit this vulnerability and ultimately take his life in cold blood. This brutal act serves as a stark reminder of Vic’s youthful innocence and highlights how Oz manipulated him with false revolutionary ideals.

In a similar fashion, we too overlooked the crucial lesson that Oz conveyed: “They don’t give out awards for dying in the projects.” Unfortunately, this is exactly what befell Vic in “A Great or Little Thing,” as Oz’s descent into darkness became complete and The Penguin subtly hinted at our complicity in others’ demise through the misuse of self-actualization rhetoric. The Penguin may not reach the heights of its referenced series like The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, or Sons of Anarchy, but it certainly offers an enjoyable homage rather than defining a genre on its own. With three tragic murders to his name, the city under his control, and The Batman: Part II looming, Oz Cobb stands victoriously at the end of The Penguin, redefining the character and preparing him for a return to whatever future Gotham calls him back to.

2024-11-11 07:55

The Penguin Always Had to End Like This

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