“Mad As A Hatter” (season 1, episode 27)
I’ve always found Jervis Tetch (Roddy McDowall) the most relatable of Batman’s villains. His desire for Alice (Kimmy Robertson) mirrored my childhood crush on my similarly blonde next door neighbor, Jenny, and I saw myself reflected in Mad Hatter’s big-toothed overbite. As an adult, I still connect with Jervis’ romantic woes (who hasn’t wanted someone they can’t have?), but it’s how they relate to his obsession with Alice in Wonderland that fascinates me. The adults watching Batman: The Animated Series understand Jervis’ emotional attachment to his childhood fixation. Those watching it during the original run had probably been exposed to Batman through the comics, Superfriends, or the Adam West show as children, while those of us that watched as kids now rewatch B:TAS through nostalgic lenses but with freshly matured eyes. It’s the “Grey Ghost effect,” and watching B:TAS becomes a temporary visit to a world where bills don’t exist and the biggest worry is getting your homework done before Monday.
Alice in Wonderland has that effect on Jervis, but he doesn’t truly leave Wonderland when he returns to the real world, and his inability to separate reality from fiction alienates him from society. He mistakes his secretary’s politeness for affection because of her resemblance to a storybook character, and he believes that becoming the Mad Hatter is the key to winning her heart. These are pretty extreme delusions, but they’re also why “Mad As A Hatter” works so well. Writer Paul Dini doesn’t operate in subtlety, and it’s his ability to instill humanity into his spectacular characters that makes him such a perfect fit for Batman’s world. Like the gods of ancient civilizations, these heroes and villains represent larger ideas, and making them relatable to the everyman gives them added significance. The Mad Hatter is the closest we’ve gotten to a god of love, but instead of Cupid’s bow and arrow, he’s armed with top hats and microchips. He doesn’t want to poison millions or level Gotham City; he just wants companionship and someone to share tea with that’s not a mind-controlled rat.
Paul Dini episodes usually feature Bruce Wayne in a more prominent role, and by making Jervis a Wayne Enterprises employee, we get to see Bruce wearing his real mask as an executive. Bruce is a compassionate, friendly, and downright charming boss who gives Jervis the freedom to work on his mind-altering microchips despite not seeing any solid results. Jervis’ manager, Marcia Cates (Loretta Swit), isn’t as merciful, and seeing Bruce in comparison to Marcia makes him even more personable. Good thing, because Jervis is completely lacking in the social interaction department, and he’s an anxious, awful mess in the company of his superiors.
The lonely bookworm with communication problems isn’t a revolutionary character type by any means, but it’s one that will probably resonate with most of the B:TAS audience. Unless you went to the high school where comics and cartoons were what all the cool kids were into. That exists, right? When Jervis learns that Alice and her boyfriend Billy (David Haskell) have broken up, he transforms into the Mad Hatter, his metamorphosis triggered by jubilation rather than the tragedy of the other rogues. Dini uses quotes from Alice in Wonderland to show Jervis’ quickening descent into a fantasy world, and they become more prevalent as his reality begins to reflect Carroll’s story. When he eavesdrops on Alice’s cries, Jervis utters, “Curiouser and curiouser,” which are the same words Alice says after eating a cake that increases her size exponentially. It’s one of her first experiences with the magic of Wonderland, and Gotham Alice’s breakup is similarly miraculous for Jervis, as he grows into the confident, powerful Hatter persona. Using his microchip technology, he fashions a mind-control device using a top hat and cards, but instead of using them to make Alice fall for him, he takes her on a perfect date by controlling everyone else.
Poor Jarvis Tetch! He really is trying to be a gentleman and failing spectacularly. He can use his hat to get free dinner, but he has no idea how to woo a girl. He thinks that his Alice will be as fascinated by him as the one in the story, so he makes no attempt at easing into a relationship with her, moving way too quickly for his recently single assistant. When Jervis takes her hand in the restaurant, she’s clearly uncomfortable from the physical contact, and when he begins singing “The Mock Turtle’s Song” and invites Alice to dance with him, she’s just plain terrified. When an apologetic Billy is waiting for her at home, Alice has no problem accepting his marriage proposal, and when Jervis finds out, he goes flying down the rabbit hole, tossing hat cards everywhere and dressing people up in all sorts of ridiculous costumes. This marks Jervis’ transition from well-meaning creep to full-on villain, as he forces Billy to break up with Alice, then fits Alice with a mind-control headband and takes her away to Wonderland.
Director Frank Paur’s bad luck returns, as Akom handles the animation this episode, and despite being an improvement over the company's previous output, there’s still a general sloppiness that stands in the way of making this episode a “Heart of Ice”-level success. The inconsistent faces and body types that plague Akom's usual work are present here, but scripts like Dini’s also require a heightened level of acting ability in the cartoon actors. The action is smoother than normal, and the company does a great job animating the mice, but from a technical standpoint, the sound saves this episode. Shirley Walker’s score conveys emotion beautifully, particularly through the contrast of the music with the action of the plot. Alice’s first breakup is followed by rousing carousel music that emphasizes Jervis’ elation, while the waltz composed for the Wonderland dance is sweeping and romantic, making Alice’s horrified expression even funnier.
The voice cast this episode is incredible, led by McDowall’s grandiose performance as Jervis Tetch. McDowall, who played a villain named Bookworm on the Adam West Batman series but is probably best known for playing Cornelius in Planet of the Apes, portrays Jervis with such desperation and sadness at the start that the thought of him succeeding doesn’t seem so bad. When he goes out with Alice as Mad Hatter, he’s so much more at ease, and despite his aggressive intentions, he speaks to her with tenderness. He seems genuinely conflicted about using his technology on Alice, but he also has a vicious side that comes out when Batman becomes an obstacle. When he screams, “I’ve waited my whole lonely life for her!” it has an entire life’s worth of pain behind it. Robertson captures sweet but oblivious Alice perfectly, while M*A*S*H’s “Hot Lips” Loretta Swit is just dripping with bitch as Marcia Cates. Kevin Conroy shows off his comedic skills by spending more time as Bruce Wayne this week, but there’s disgust in his voice when he realizes that one of his employees is his newest foe, foreshadowing a serious beating for Jervis.
I’ve complained about the camp of past villains, but Dini is able to make it work for Mad Hatter because of the plot’s focus on the distinctions between fantasy and reality. The Walrus and the Carpenter henchmen are absurd, but at least their presence is justified by the storybook influenced amusement park in the episode, which also provides some nice Dick Sprang-inspired visuals. Giant chess pieces and a labyrinth of playing cards enhance the fantasy elements, and by taking the Wonderland elements to the extreme, the comedown to reality is even more depressing. Fantasy ends up delivering the final blow, as Mad Hatter is Bret Michaels-ed by a giant Jaberwocky flat. As he watches Alice and Billy reunite, he recites “The Mock Turtle’s Song” once more: “Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.” As the camera pans to a statue of the weeping mock turtle, Jervis is left with the bittersweet memory of his one dance with Alice, facing a future behind Arkham’s walls.