#oswald cobb

[ynngaa]

I’m devastated. But it was such a good show

[picturesofspideyman]

Thinking about them again

[alpacinosgf]

[big-squig]

I love this meme and I had to draw the same doodle...

[queennymeria]

"You were right. I didn't see you, but she did. She knew it from the very beginning. You have always been a monster." - Sofia Gigante, The Penguin (2024).

[yourrottingwife]

My Dangerous White Boy collection: Top contenders of my #ManCrushMonday. I'm pinging quarters off their domes at light speed. (Minus Leatherface he gets nothing but kindness.)

[ohmovie]

The Penguin 1.01│"After Hours"

[maxdibert]

The way you can empathize with Oz throughout the first part of the series, how they gradually reveal his sociopathy, how this gradually builds with what happens to his brothers—but still leaves a hint of doubt, a reflex to justify him, something that’s completely shattered when you see that his narcissism is capable of letting his mother be harmed just to avoid facing his own mess, and then they fully solidify him as an irredeemable villain with what he does to Vic—it’s brilliant. The Penguin doesn’t try to make you understand Oz or justify him; it doesn’t humanize the character. Instead, it begins with him already humanized, slowly peeling back the layers, the very same layers of deception, lies, and false appearances he uses to manipulate everyone around him. Underneath, there’s nothing but absolute darkness, and by the time he’s at his lowest point, you’re just wishing Batman would actually show up and take him down, punish him ruthlessly. You end up thinking it can’t end like this—he deserves punishment. Not because you believe good should triumph over evil but because you’ve been made to empathize with and care for a character throughout the series, and Oz has destroyed that character in the most cruel and vile way possible.

The script makes you see Vic as a reflection of the city itself: the impoverished side, the vulnerable, the one fighting to survive, the wronged, the hopeful, the one who makes poor choices not from a bad heart but from the need to get by—and you see how Oz takes advantage of that need, giving Vic hope for a future only to betray him and destroy it all. And that’s when you feel, when you shout: this guy has to be stopped. Oz isn’t just a thug, a mob boss, or the ruthless but entertaining scoundrel anymore; he’s a true supervillain. And supervillains have to go down.

It’s absolutely masterful. I tip my hat to it; I’m still in shock, but I hope I’m making sense—what an incredible script, performances, characters, everything. They’re not deconstructing the villain; they’re deconstructing the deconstruction of the villain. It’s pure screenwriting poetry.