If you are a filmmaker, watch this show for the lighting ratios alone. If you are a fan, watch it for the way the city itself becomes a snare.
And if you are Oz Cobb? Watch your back. Because the camera certainly is. 9/10 Best episode to study: Episode 3 ("Bliss") for the nightclub lighting sequence. the penguin cinematography
Rain in this show isn't atmospheric; it's economic. It runs off broken awnings. It floods basements. It turns the garbage in the alleys into slick, treacherous sludge. The DP shoots water as a character—it reflects the neon of the rich above while drowning the poor below. If you are a filmmaker, watch this show
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. Watch your back
So when the spin-off series The Penguin was announced, the big question wasn’t just about Colin Farrell’s prosthetics. It was: Can they maintain that cinematic standard on a TV budget?
But the moment he gets caught? The light source dies. A bulb pops. A cloud covers the moon. The show visually "un-lights" him. It’s a brilliant shorthand: the only time Oz looks trustworthy is when the cinematographer is lying to you. Finally, we have to talk about texture. The Batman had the rain. The Penguin weaponizes it.
Colin Farrell is buried under latex, but the cinematography doesn't try to hide it or make it cool. The lenses are merciless. We see the sweat beading on Oz’s forehead. We see the red irritation around his prosthetic scars. We see the pores.