Batman’s First Live-Action Project Completely Destroyed The Character

When most people think about the Dark Knight’s early days in live-action, they think of the Adam West and Burt Ward TV series (and accompanying film) from the 1960s. That’s understandable given its cultural impact and lasting legacy, but the West show wasn’t the first time that Batman was brought from the comic book page to the screen. In 1943, just four years after the character’s comic debut in 1939’s “Detective Comics #27,” Columbia Pictures produced and released a series of theatrical serials starring Lewis Wilson as the Caped Crusader and Douglas Croft as Robin, with William Austin playing Alfred.

Released in 15 weekly installments, these serials actually contributed what later became key aspects of the franchise, most notably turning the Batcave from a simple tunnel beneath Wayne Manor to a full subterranean hideout. At the same time, though, the ’43 adaptation changed a lot from the original comics, turning Batman into an agent of the United States military and a voice of anti-Japanese propaganda during World War II.

Yes, you read that right. Batman doesn’t fight the Joker or the Penguin in the 1943 serials. Instead, he faces off against Dr. Daka, an evil mastermind sowing discord in Gotham under direct orders from the Japanese government. Naturally, the character is played by J. Carrol Naish, a non-Japanese actor. These aspects of the series make it difficult to return to, to say the least, and its portrayal of Batman himself struggles to hold up against those from even the early years of the comics. That said, the serials remain a curious case study in American propaganda at the time, as well as one of the first live-action superhero adaptations ever produced.

Totaling around three and a half hours across 15 episodes, the 1943 “Batman” serials follow Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson as they foil various plans by Dr. Daka. These involve creating mind-control devices that turn unwitting prisoners into enslaved zombie and trying to use a powerful ray gun to threaten Gotham. Bruce also flirts with love interest Linda Page (Shirley Patterson), whose uncle Martin is kidnapped early on as part of Daka’s scheme.

The most entertaining part of the serials today is definitely the action scenes, which pull at least some charm from their early Hollywood stagecraft. Car chases, fist fights on top of tall buildings, and other set pieces all carry the campy style of the era, and that’s occasionally to their benefit, as the actual narrative material backing the action ranges from hollow to extremely racist.

In terms of aesthetics, this is actually a decent interpretation of Batman, given how little time had passed since the character first debuted with DC Comics. He wears a cheap-looking but relatively accurate version of the character’s original black and gray suit, and while Robin is a bit older than he is in the comics, his costume is accurate enough (though the black and white certainly mutes him). Meanwhile, the Batcave is an almost claustrophobically small set with some hilarious “bat” effects sprinkled on for good measure. But even in its silliest moments, you can see some of the visual influence on later adaptations — specifically the Adam West “Batman” series and film.

You can trace a pretty direct line from the hammy style and tone of the 1943 “Batman” serials to the intentionally campy vibe of the 1966 TV series starring Adam West and Burt Ward. And that’s no coincidence. In 1965, just a year before the much more famous adaptation took to the screen, the black and white serials were re-released as a single, complete story under the new name, “An Evening with Batman and Robin.” The cartoony style — already apparent two decades later — helped it gain renewed interest and a fresh audience. It’s no wonder, then, that the ’60s series intentionally made things as ridiculous and silly as possible, playing on that style.

That said, the major propagandist elements of the ’43 serials make them impossible to fully embrace as part of the larger Batman mythos. A narrator early on tells us that Batman and Robin — who, again, work as superheroes under “special assignment from Uncle Sam,” according to Bruce — “represent American youth who love their country and are glad to fight for it.” The same disembodied voice informs viewers that when facing enemies of America, “Batman and Robin stand ready to fight them to the death.” The writing relating to Dr. Daka and the larger Japanese plot is far more egregious.

All told, though, there are far better Batman movies out there. I’d even go with the George Clooney version instead.