When Batman: The Animated Series made its debut as an afternoon cartoon on Fox in 1992, there was little cause for high expectations. True, Batman had undergone a recent renaissance, having been reworked in comics by Frank Miller and in movies by Tim Burton. But apart from the early triumph of Max Fleischer's Superman, superhero cartoons had already had a long, inglorious history best characterized by the clunky-but-charming Superfriends, while afternoon action cartoons were coming off a long decade of pimping action figures.
But the Animated Series incarnation of Batman announced itself as a different beast from the start. Over the opening credits, the hero skulked through a curvilinear Gotham City that looked, as one of the show's producers described it, as if the 1939 World's Fair had lasted 60 years. Batman himself looked different. In sharp contrast to the detail-heavy, anatomically suspect superheroes filling the pages of '90s comic books, here was a Batman stripped to his essence: a sharp jaw, an unhappy line for a mouth, a cowl with jutting ears, a cheekbone, and two pitiless white slits for eyes.
Artist Bruce Timm—who created the show with background painter Eric Radomski—went for a pared-down look in part because it made animation easier, but the embrace of cartoony simplicity defined the show in other respects, as well, allowing it to traffic in icons and archetypes. So did the world those icons inhabited: The series' "dark deco" look, in which Studebaker-like cars existed alongside modern computers, gave it a timeless feel. Its Gotham looks like no other city, but it also looks a little bit like every city.
The stories echo the thought and sophistication of the look. Though never less than heroic, the Animated Series Batman is also a tormented mess. "One caveat we stressed," writer-producer Paul Dini writes in the companion book Batman Animated, "was that Batman is our hero's true persona and that billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne is the disguise." (Only butler and surrogate father Alfred still insists on the human moniker "Bruce.") That duality extends throughout Batman: The Animated Series. While there's a strong sense of good and evil, light and dark, much of the action takes place in between; there's a reason Batman's former friend turned split-personality psychopath Two-Face fits in so well.
The voice talent pulls its weight, too. As Batman, Kevin Conroy always plays it straight, and, to choose just one standout from the rogues' gallery, Mark Hamill's maniacally mirthful Joker leaves even Jack Nicholson in the dust.
The four-disc set Batman: The Animated Series, Volume One compiles the first 28 episodes of Batman's eventual 110-episode run. Though sadly light on special features, it's a welcome arrival, particularly since the show doesn't pop up in reruns too often these days. It does lose a bit out of context, however. It's still great viewing the episodes back-to-back in clean DVD transfers, but there's something to be said for the subversive quality of sneaking dark, stylish little morality tales in between episodes of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and commercials for Trix.