Batman is one of the most iconic superheroes in comics and one of the most complex, with nearly a century of stories behind him. With a Marianas Trench of mythology to explore, adaptations have always made perfect sense. From early film series to television series and beyond, we live in a world where Batman is constantly being recreated and reinterpreted by someone else.
One of the most successful reinterpretations is Batman: The Animated Series, created by Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski. Set in gloomy skyscraper canyons descending beneath menacing red skies, this animated film introduced a new generation of viewers to Batman and his criminal gallery. The art direction was outstanding, as was the noir-inflected narrative, but the cast was equally important. It featured Mark Hamill as the Joker and the late Arleen Sorkin as Harley Quinn. And holding it all together was Kevin Conroy, stern and completely inscrutable, with just a touch of grim humor as Batman.
I’ve been thinking about Conroy a lot in recent days. A fan favorite, his death in 2022 rocked the community and underscored something that had been felt for a long time: Here truly was a Batman for the ages. This summer saw news of a new Batman game, Batman Arkham Shadow, with Roger Craig Smith returning to the role after his appearance in Batman: Arkham Origins. New Arkham games are always welcome, and I’m sure Smith will do a great job. But it was a perfect opportunity for me to think about Conroy again and be grateful for what he brought to the role, regardless of the medium.
I can honestly say that Conroy’s voice shaped a huge part of my youth. When he died – and I’m sure I’m not alone in this – it felt like parts of my childhood memories were forever changed. When I think of Batman today, I think of Conroy. Even today, when I read a Batman comic, it’s Conroy’s voice that speaks the lines in my head. Again, I’m sure I’m not alone in this.
The key thing for me is that Conroy’s performance embodies both Batman and Bruce Wayne perfectly. He has created the perfect voice for a dual identity, with the change in tone between the identities subtle but still clear and distinct. The more time he spent with the character, the deeper his portrayal seemed to become. You could feel more and more sympathy for this weary man fighting a war he knows he can’t really win.
But even Batman fans who missed the animated series know Conroy’s Batman. He delivered an astonishingly rich performance in the main trilogy of Arkham games. From the Joker’s first ride in Arkham Asylum, Rocksteady’s decision to use the voices from the animated series paid off in terms of depth and groundedness. Here was a Batman you could really believe in.
You see this in a number of ways. Despite the broad cast of villains and heroes, the core Arkham games are often essentially two-person games. There’s Batman crawling down a ventilation shaft, and there’s the Joker taunting him in the ear or in his head. Conroy and Hamill’s work on the animated series gave them a history of playing off each other to build on – Hamill becoming shriller and more devious, while Conroy became quieter, more menacing and more reserved. Conroy channeled controlled anger into these portrayals, but also something else: recognition, deep, deadly frustration with someone he had a real past with. These two were brilliant together.
And as the Arkham games progressed, they became more interested in the psychological aspects of Batman, which was further enhanced by the immersion in the game’s world, as it allowed players to get inside that head and the character’s inner world of personal angst. The games take Batman to some really strange places. One moment I’ll never forget is the Joker’s death at the end of Arkham City: an absolutely perfect moment of deep emotion from Conroy. I can still see it now. Batman exits the doors of the Monarch Theater, solemnly carrying Joker’s body in his hand, visibly upset and visibly confused. The scene almost suggests that Batman has lost a friend. Only Conroy could have made the following quote believable, in part because his Batman had already shown a full range of emotions throughout the animated series:
“Even after everything you did, I would have saved you.”
It’s clear that the role meant a lot to Conroy, too. For anyone interested in learning more about this remarkable actor, I recommend his entry in DC Comics’ 2022 Pride Anthology, “Finding Batman,” in which he discusses his experiences as a gay man in the entertainment industry. (Conroy had felt the need to hide his sexuality over the years, and spoke movingly about the discrimination he endured and the jobs he missed out on.)
Sometimes it feels like without Conroy we’re living in a world without Batman. But the strength of the character – and I think Conroy understood this beautifully – is in the way he could be reinvented and interpreted. There will be many Batmans in the years to come, but Kevin Conroy will always be my Batman. And I will always be grateful to him.