In the rain-slicked alleys of Gotham, where shadows swallow secrets and the Bat-Signal pierces the perpetual night like a vengeful prayer, anticipation for The Batman: Part II has reached fever pitch. On October 29, 2025, Colin Farrell—fresh off his Golden Globe-winning turn as the waddling, scheming Oswald “Oz” Cobb in HBO’s The Penguin—unleashed a torrent of praise that has sent DC fans into a frenzy. In a candid chat on the Happy Sad Confused podcast, the Irish actor, who reprises his role as the Penguin in Matt Reeves’ long-awaited sequel, called the script “a masterwork”—a “contemporary genre masterwork” that’s “dense, intelligent, and deep.” Farrell, speaking like a man who’s just unearthed a lost Nolan print, gushed about director-writer Matt Reeves: “God, Matt Reeves, it’s so good. It really is.” He singled out Robert Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne for a “lovely journey,” one that promises to peel back the cowl on the Dark Knight’s psyche in ways unseen before. With filming slated to kick off in spring 2026 and an October 1, 2027, release date locked in, Farrell’s endorsement isn’t just fuel for the hype machine—it’s a spark igniting the eternal debate: Could Pattinson, after one brooding outing, ascend to the pantheon as the greatest Batman ever?

Farrell’s words landed like a Batarang in the heart of fan discourse, a Gotham Gazette headline in an era of DC reboots and multiversal mishmashes. “It’s so brilliant,” he continued, recounting a FaceTime call with Reeves where he shared “so many thoughts and feelings” about the screenplay, co-penned with Mattson Tomlin (Project Power). For Farrell, receiving the script wasn’t just professional courtesy; it was a “moment” for this self-proclaimed “giddy little fanboy.” He’d let it sit for two weeks before diving in—brewing tea, carving out hours—only to emerge declaring it “extraordinary.” His Penguin, he admitted, plays a “smaller role” this time, but the continuity from The Penguin‘s finale—where Oz claws his way to underworld dominance amid a flooded, fractured city—flows seamlessly into the sequel, mere weeks later. “The devastation within Gotham opened up a power vacuum that Oz could try and capitalize on,” Farrell teased in a separate ComicBook interview, hinting at a deeper, scarier Gotham where alliances fracture and the Riddler’s riddles echo in the ruins.

This isn’t Farrell’s first Gotham sermon. Since The Batman‘s 2022 debut—where his Penguin slithered from a cameo into a transformative force, earning an Emmy nod and a spin-off greenlight—he’s been Reeves’ most vocal evangelist. “Matt’s vision is on another level,” he told Deadline in September, downplaying his sequel involvement (“I haven’t got much to do on it, just a little bit”) while hyping the script’s intellectual heft. At 49, Farrell embodies the Elseworlds saga’s grit: a Penguin less cartoonish than Danny DeVito’s Batman Returns waddler, more a Falcone heir with a limp and a ledger. His praise underscores Reeves’ auteur streak—from Cloverfield‘s found-footage frenzy to the Planet of the Apes trilogy’s empathetic evolution—positioning The Batman universe as DC’s prestige outlier amid James Gunn’s brighter DCU reboot. “Reeves is making an extraordinary film,” Farrell insisted, his brogue thick with conviction. In a landscape scarred by The Flash‘s multiverse muddle and Aquaman 2‘s soggy splash, this grounded epic—budgeted at a reported $200 million—feels like a lifeline.

Yet Farrell’s fervor has cracked open the Batcave of debates: Is Pattinson, the brooding Brit once dismissed as “Edward Cullen in kevlar,” poised to eclipse legends like Michael Keaton’s quirky crusader, Christian Bale’s raspy realist, or Ben Affleck’s battered brute? At 39, Pattinson entered The Batman as an underdog, his indie cred (The Lighthouse, The Lost Daughter) clashing with the caped icon’s baggage. Directed by Reeves with noirish flair—rain-lashed streets evoking Se7en, a score by Michael Giacchino throbbing like a migraine—the film recast Year Two Batman as a vengeance-fueled phantom, less playboy prince than nocturnal neurosis. Pattinson’s Wayne was a recluse, his public facade a ghostlier than Clooney’s tuxedoed tomfoolery, his Bat-voice a gravelly growl honed not by gadgets but grief. Grossing $772 million on a $185 million budget, it snagged an Oscar for makeup and spawned The Penguin‘s 12-episode triumph, but Pattinson’s performance? Polarizing dynamite.

Proponents crown him king for authenticity’s sake. “Pattinson is the best live-action Batman,” declares a Reddit r/batman thread from August 2023, amassing 811 upvotes with users lauding his “obsessed, rage-fueled” Year One vibe—closer to Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns primal than Bale’s boardroom billionaire. In The Batman, he stalks shadows with feral intensity, his Batmobile a muscle car roar, his detective work a puzzle palace of Post-It paranoia. “He’s vulnerable, human—complexity that adds layers,” one commenter raved, echoing CBR‘s 2023 op-ed: “Pattinson follows the no-kill rule, showcasing true heroism and growth.” His chemistry with Zoë Kravitz’s Catwoman crackled with tragic tango, while Paul Dano’s Riddler gnawed at his psyche like a bad acid trip. X (formerly Twitter) echoes this: A 2024 poll by @IGN ranked Batman films, with The Batman nipping at The Dark Knight‘s heels, fans tweeting, “Pattinson’s silhouette is 10/10 iconic.” Even Nolan, in a 2023 Variety nod, praised Pattinson’s “concrete advice” chats about the canon, hinting at mentorship magic.

Skeptics, however, swing the other Batarang. “Pattinson’s a good Batman, but the best Bruce Wayne?” pondered a 2022 Lion’s Roar head-to-head, arguing his shut-in schtick dilutes the dual-identity dance—Keaton’s smirking mogul or Bale’s brooding tycoon better masked the man behind the mask. Affleck’s DCEU brute, they counter, embodied the physicality: towering, tactical, a Batman who broke the no-kill code in Batman v Superman with tragic heft. “Bale’s the gold standard,” a r/TheBatmanFilm post from October 2024 insists, citing The Dark Knight‘s operatic scope—Ledger’s Joker a chaos symphony Pattinson’s Riddler merely mimicked. Clooney? Campy relic. Kilmer? Forgotten footnote. West? TV titan, not cinematic. A 2025 X poll by @Wayne_tweeps tallied votes: Bale 42%, Keaton 28%, Pattinson 20%, Affleck 10%—a snapshot of divided capes.

Farrell’s tease tips the scales toward Pattinson’s apotheosis. “Robert has got such a lovely journey to go on and take the audience through,” he enthused, implying a sequel that evolves the orphan avenger from symbol of fear to symbol of hope. Reeves, in June 2025, shared a photo of the finished draft with Tomlin, quipping on X: “The wait was worth it.” Plot whispers? A deeper dive into Wayne’s psyche, perhaps Hush or Clayface lurking in the lore, with Penguin’s power play catalyzing chaos. Pattinson, joking at a 2024 press junket, lamented: “I started as young Batman; I’ll be old by the sequel.” At 39, his gaunt intensity—those haunted eyes under the cowl—suits a Batman teetering toward middle age, much like Affleck’s weary warrior but with Reeves’ psychological scalpel.

The debate pulses through pop culture’s veins. On Reddit’s r/DCU_, a November 2025 thread exploded with 379 upvotes: “Farrell’s right—Pattinson’s arc will seal it.” TikToks stitch Pattinson’s rain-drenched rage against Bale’s boardroom barks, captions screaming “Year Two supremacy.” Even Gunn, helming the DCU’s The Brave and the Bold Batman (rumored Andy Muschietti-directed, with an uncast Dark Knight), respects the Elseworlds lane: “It’s Matt’s choice,” he tweeted in October, quashing crossover dreams. For Reeves, it’s personal: a “Batman Epic Crime Saga” unbound by universe mandates, echoing his Apes reinvention. Farrell, wrapping The Penguin amid prosthetics hell (“seven hours a day in the chair”), sees synergy: “Oz’s rise feeds the vacuum.”

As 2025’s chill sets in, Farrell’s paean feels like a Bat-Signal flare. In a franchise fractured by reboots—Gunn’s Superman soaring sans Snyderverse scars—Pattinson’s path offers purity: a trilogy unencumbered, a Knight unyielding. Will Part II crown him? Or will nostalgia’s ghosts—Keaton’s gothic glee, Bale’s operatic odyssey—hold court? Farrell bets on the brooding beau: “Extraordinary.” Fans, divided yet devout, await the tolling bells. Gotham’s shadows deepen, and with them, Pattinson’s legend. In the end, the best Batman isn’t forged in polls or prose—it’s the one that haunts your vigil, long after the credits crawl. Suit up; the debate endures.