Finally, we have to talk about texture. The Batman had the rain. The Penguin weaponizes it.

There is a fantastic recurring motif: false light.

Oz Cobb (Farrell) isn't a sky-dwelling hero; he’s a sewer rat. The cinematography traps him constantly. Look at the frame composition in the first episode: Oz walks through the ruined streets of Crown Point, and the buildings lean in on him. The camera looks up, showing power lines like a cage, or looks down from tenement windows, reducing Oz to a tiny, desperate speck.

By blending the rough texture of 1970s street cinema with the psychological framing of a character study, the show creates a visual experience that feels grounded, terrifying, and deeply sad. It turns the rise of a supervillain into a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, all told through a lens that is constantly out of focus, too dark, and uncomfortably close. It is cinematography that doesn't just show us the world of Gotham—it makes us smell the rain and feel the grime.

Here’s a solid blog post about the cinematography of The Penguin (the HBO Max series), written in an engaging, critical-yet-appreciative tone.

While the series begins by mirroring the slow, graceful, and highly composed camera movements of The Batman , it intentionally shifts its style as the narrative progresses.

Here is why the look of The Penguin is the best thing on television right now.