The Penguin, reviewed by Erik Adams.
It’s tempting to pat The Penguin on the back for at least trying something. But that’s the type of patronizing gesture that would cause Colin Farrell to sneer through the layers of prosthetics that transform him into Oswald “Oz” Cobb. A highlight in small doses in The Batman, Oz withers in the spotlight of The Penguin – when he’s not overshadowed by ally-turned-enemy-turned-ally-turned-enemy-again Sofia Falcone, played to the hilt by Cristin Milioti. The limited series worships at the altars of The Godfather, Goodfellas, Scarface, The Sopranos, and Breaking Bad, but Sofia’s family are no Corleones, Oz is no Tony, and in these eight episodes, they’re not given the time or space to get anywhere close to those crime-drama landmarks. The Batman was overstuffed, too, but at least it had a solid, straightforward mystery at its core for everyone to orbit. The mob drama being built around Oz requires something grander and more operatic to succeed. Unfortunately, The Penguin lacks the chops, the wit, and the wings to reach those heights.
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