"Batman" takes a literary turn when Bookworm menaces Gotham City and even kills Commissioner Gordon in the opening to "The Bookworm Turns," a showcase for versatile actor Roddy McDowall as the erudite villain obsessed with the written word although he himself suffers from writer's block so severe--Batman dismisses him as "a frustrated novelist"--that he must turn to a life of crime. As with all two-part "Batman" stories, the first part is the red-herring-laden setup--you don't really think Gordon has been killed, do you?--complete with cliffhanger, and the second part reveals what the villain is really after.
Unfortunately, McDowall and thus Bookworm made only one (two-part) appearance in the live-action television edition of "Batman," so it might not be mere coincidence that these are the only two episodes Rik Vollaerts scripted for the series as well.
A writer as versatile as McDowall was an actor, Vollaerts gives Bookworm psychological complexity beyond his ostentatious ability to quote at length from literature; when Lydia Limpet (Francine York), Bookworm's moll fawning over him, asks sweetly why he hasn't written a best-seller, he flies into a rage over his literary impotence--cursing himself for having "no originality . . . A master of stolen plots!"--and is about to brain her with a gigantic tome when he notices its title, "The Secret of Success: Self-Control"; then, clearly a magna cum laude graduate of the Evelyn Wood Speed-Reading School, he calmly devours the contents in a matter of moments before leading his gang out to entrap Batman and Robin.
Actually, it's a two-part trap, with the first involving the obligatory Batfight, but before going on to part two, it's worth exploring one of the most fascinating aspects to this camp classic: its psycho-sexual undertones that very often became overtones.
First, let's not overlook the central kink. Here you have a rich, handsome bachelor who lives with surrogate mother Aunt Harriet, a dapper butler who is the epitome of discretion, and most especially his young male ward (Harriet's nephew) with whom he likes to dress up in splashy costumes and hang out down in their man-cave of which Aunt Harriet is completely unaware.
In this episode, they're battling a neurotic leatherman--Bookworm's own outfit resembles a leather-bound volume that even creaks when he moves--whose moll sports her own form-fitting fetish attire (and, yes, York has the form to fill it) and either or both of them appear to be into bondage. Having been beaten by the Dynamic Duo, Bookworm and his henchmen (or are they appendixes?) flee the scene, leaving Lydia bound and gagged in the back of Bookworm's Bookmobile.
Not that this doesn't interest the Dynamic Duo. Upon seeing her, Robin wants to free her but Batman intervenes, telling him that they should "subject her to the most rigid test." They drug her, take her back to the Batcave for "interrogation" (don't worry, they only hook her up to a lie-detector machine), then bring her back to the van and tie her up again, with Robin staying behind while Batman, pretending to fetch an ambulance, dashes off to confront Bookworm. Lydia is game enough to ask Robin to untie her, but he refuses, telling her that she might be injured and that she "better not move until trained personnel arrives." Bet Lydia's never heard that one before. Not. Hey, at least the kid is learning.
All of this might have seemed like innocent fun when you were a kid watching "Batman" for the first time, but it's hard to miss once you've reached puberty. Oh, and the cliffhanger? Let's just say Robin might wind up getting his clock cleaned. Tune in tomorrow for the final chapter in the Bookworm saga!
REVIEWER'S NOTE: What makes a review "helpful"? Every reader of course decides that for themselves. For me, a review is helpful if it explains why the reviewer liked or disliked the work or why they thought it was good or not good. Whether I agree with the reviewer's conclusion is irrelevant. "Helpful" reviews tell me how and why the reviewer came to their conclusion, not what that conclusion may be. Differences of opinion are inevitable. I don't need "confirmation bias" for my own conclusions. Do you?
Unfortunately, McDowall and thus Bookworm made only one (two-part) appearance in the live-action television edition of "Batman," so it might not be mere coincidence that these are the only two episodes Rik Vollaerts scripted for the series as well.
A writer as versatile as McDowall was an actor, Vollaerts gives Bookworm psychological complexity beyond his ostentatious ability to quote at length from literature; when Lydia Limpet (Francine York), Bookworm's moll fawning over him, asks sweetly why he hasn't written a best-seller, he flies into a rage over his literary impotence--cursing himself for having "no originality . . . A master of stolen plots!"--and is about to brain her with a gigantic tome when he notices its title, "The Secret of Success: Self-Control"; then, clearly a magna cum laude graduate of the Evelyn Wood Speed-Reading School, he calmly devours the contents in a matter of moments before leading his gang out to entrap Batman and Robin.
Actually, it's a two-part trap, with the first involving the obligatory Batfight, but before going on to part two, it's worth exploring one of the most fascinating aspects to this camp classic: its psycho-sexual undertones that very often became overtones.
First, let's not overlook the central kink. Here you have a rich, handsome bachelor who lives with surrogate mother Aunt Harriet, a dapper butler who is the epitome of discretion, and most especially his young male ward (Harriet's nephew) with whom he likes to dress up in splashy costumes and hang out down in their man-cave of which Aunt Harriet is completely unaware.
In this episode, they're battling a neurotic leatherman--Bookworm's own outfit resembles a leather-bound volume that even creaks when he moves--whose moll sports her own form-fitting fetish attire (and, yes, York has the form to fill it) and either or both of them appear to be into bondage. Having been beaten by the Dynamic Duo, Bookworm and his henchmen (or are they appendixes?) flee the scene, leaving Lydia bound and gagged in the back of Bookworm's Bookmobile.
Not that this doesn't interest the Dynamic Duo. Upon seeing her, Robin wants to free her but Batman intervenes, telling him that they should "subject her to the most rigid test." They drug her, take her back to the Batcave for "interrogation" (don't worry, they only hook her up to a lie-detector machine), then bring her back to the van and tie her up again, with Robin staying behind while Batman, pretending to fetch an ambulance, dashes off to confront Bookworm. Lydia is game enough to ask Robin to untie her, but he refuses, telling her that she might be injured and that she "better not move until trained personnel arrives." Bet Lydia's never heard that one before. Not. Hey, at least the kid is learning.
All of this might have seemed like innocent fun when you were a kid watching "Batman" for the first time, but it's hard to miss once you've reached puberty. Oh, and the cliffhanger? Let's just say Robin might wind up getting his clock cleaned. Tune in tomorrow for the final chapter in the Bookworm saga!
REVIEWER'S NOTE: What makes a review "helpful"? Every reader of course decides that for themselves. For me, a review is helpful if it explains why the reviewer liked or disliked the work or why they thought it was good or not good. Whether I agree with the reviewer's conclusion is irrelevant. "Helpful" reviews tell me how and why the reviewer came to their conclusion, not what that conclusion may be. Differences of opinion are inevitable. I don't need "confirmation bias" for my own conclusions. Do you?