Danny DeVito Would Love Another Crack at This Iconic Role

Hollywood has two favorite hobbies: rebooting things and pretending it isn’t rebooting things. So when Danny DeVito
says he’d happily return to one of his most famous roles, it doesn’t land like a desperate nostalgia grabit lands
like a mischievous “you know you miss this” wink from a guy who’s made a career out of committing all the way.
The role in question? Oswald CobblepotTim Burton’s delightfully unhinged Penguin from Batman Returns (1992).

DeVito’s Penguin isn’t just “a villain from an old superhero movie.” He’s a full gothic fairy-tale creature:
tragic, theatrical, gross-out funny in a Saturday-night-at-the-movies way, and strangely heartfelt when the
character’s loneliness peeks through the black eye makeup. And in a pop-culture moment where the Penguin has
already evolved into new shapes (including Colin Farrell’s modern take), DeVito’s interest in coming back raises a
bigger question: what makes a performance iconic enough that people still want the original actor to take another
swing decades later?

The Role That Turned “Comic Book Villain” Into “Camp Opera”

Batman Returns is set during Christmas, but it’s not the cozy kind with cocoa and matching pajamas. It’s the
“giant tree lighting while chaos erupts” kind. Burton’s Gotham is a snow-globe nightmare, and DeVito’s Penguin is
the ringleadera sewer-raised outcast with a grievance list longer than a mall Santa line on December 23rd.

Why DeVito’s Penguin Still Sticks in People’s Heads

The performance works because it plays two notes at once: cartoonish spectacle and real sadness. DeVito goes bigbig
voice, big gestures, big “I’m going to chew this scene like it’s the last cannoli on the tray.” But underneath the
bravado is a character who wants belonging, recognition, and love, and keeps translating those needs into violence,
manipulation, and chaos because he’s never learned another language.

That mix is why fans remember him so vividly: he’s grotesque, yes, but also strangely sympathetic. Even critics who
didn’t love every choice in the film often singled out how hard it is to act through heavy prosthetics and still
deliver something human. The Penguin is buried under makeup and costuming, yet the personality still pops through.
That’s not an accidentit’s craft.

So… What Did Danny DeVito Actually Say About Returning?

DeVito hasn’t been coy about it: he’d do the Penguin again. But he also attached a very classic, very reasonable
conditionone that sounds less like “call my agent” and more like “this only works if the vibe is right.”

The Tim Burton Requirement

In interviews about reprising the role, DeVito has said he’d return if Tim Burton were directing, describing the
experience as “operatic” and emphasizing how much fun he had going big with the character. That wordoperaticmatters.
Burton’s world isn’t grounded realism; it’s heightened storybook chaos. DeVito’s Penguin belongs in that specific
universe, where the emotions are loud, the shadows are dramatic, and subtlety is politely asked to wait outside.

The “Why Not?” Pitch (Featuring Another Classic Villain)

DeVito has also floated the kind of idea that feels like it was born at a table full of friends laughing after an
awards show: bring back his Penguin alongside Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Mr. Freeze. It’s a suggestion that doesn’t
pretend to be “inevitable,” just irresistibly funa throwback team-up that leans into comic-book spectacle rather
than trying to apologize for it.

The Penguin Is Bigger Than One ActorBut Some Versions Become the Blueprint

The Penguin has had multiple lives across Batman media: comic pages, animation, video games, and live action. The
character can be played as a refined mob boss, a creepy aristocrat, a tragic monster, or a pragmatic criminal with
a good tailor. That flexibility is why the role keeps coming back.

In the modern era, Colin Farrell’s Penguin (introduced in The Batman and expanded in HBO’s The Penguin) leans
into gritty crime drama. It’s more “city corruption and power plays” than “gothic circus in the snow.” And that’s
exactly why DeVito’s version still has a lane: it represents a different flavor of Batman storytellingone that
isn’t shy about being strange.

The Actor-to-Actor Moment That Made Fans Smile

When DeVito and Farrell discussed their respective takes in a conversation for Variety’s “Actors on Actors,” it
highlighted something important: iconic roles aren’t just about the character; they’re about the actor’s problem-solving.
How do you move in the makeup? How do you keep a performance from getting swallowed by production design? How do you
keep the character’s inner life intact while the outside world is screaming “franchise” at you?

Why “Another Crack” Makes Sense in 2026 Pop Culture

Today’s entertainment landscape is basically a giant switchboard: reboots, sequels, “legacy” follow-ups, multiverse
crossovers, and side stories that turn supporting characters into headliners. In that environment, bringing back an
iconic actor for an iconic role isn’t just a stuntit’s a familiar storytelling tool.

The Business Case (Aka: Studios Love a Known Quantity)

A DeVito return would instantly generate attention because it carries built-in recognition. It’s not just “a new
Batman thing.” It’s “that Batman thing,” the one people associate with Burton’s aesthetic, Keaton’s brooding
restraint, Pfeiffer’s lightning-bolt Catwoman, and DeVito’s sewer-dwelling chaos. In marketing terms, that’s not a
cameoit’s a headline.

The Creative Case (Aka: The Right Story Could Actually Be Interesting)

The best reason to revisit DeVito’s Penguin isn’t nostalgiait’s contrast. The Burton movies are a stylized,
emotionally heightened corner of the Batman mythos. A return could explore aging villains, legacy, and the weird
melancholy of being a “monster” who still wants acceptance. If you’re going to reopen an old door, it helps if
there’s a new room behind it.

What a DeVito Penguin Comeback Could Look Like

No, this isn’t a demand for a carbon-copy remake. A smart return would respect what made the original performance
iconic while acknowledging that audiencesand DeVito himselfaren’t frozen in 1992.

Option 1: An Elseworlds-Style One-Off (Short, Stylish, and Specific)

If Burton were ever interested, a standalone “Elseworlds” project could be the cleanest solution: not a replacement
for modern Batman films, but a self-contained story that treats the Burton universe like a special chapter. That
format would let DeVito go full operatic again without forcing the character into a gritty realism suit that doesn’t fit.

Option 2: Voice Work or Animation (Maximum Performance, Minimal Prosthetics)

DeVito’s voice is half the character. Animationor even a prestige animated specialcould preserve the personality
while removing the physical strain of heavy makeup. It’s also a way to bring back the essence of the role without
pretending nothing has changed since the early ’90s.

Option 3: A Clever, Character-Driven Cameo (A Taste, Not a Full Meal)

There’s also the “small but unforgettable” route: a cameo that doesn’t hijack a bigger story, but adds flavor.
Think of it as an espresso shotshort, strong, and guaranteed to wake the audience up.

DeVito’s Secret Weapon: He Never Acts Embarrassed to Be Entertaining

One reason DeVito’s return sounds appealing is that he doesn’t treat his own work like a guilty pleasure. He’s not
above the material. Whether he’s doing broad comedy, dark satire, or a stylized villain, he commits like the role is
the most important thing in the world for exactly two hoursand honestly, that’s what audiences want.

And it’s not like he’s retired into a cloud of mystery. DeVito has stayed active for decades, including long-running
comedy work that proves he still has the timing, energy, and fearless “let’s see how weird we can make this” spirit
that made the Penguin memorable in the first place.

Iconic Roles Aren’t Just FamousThey’re Rewatchable

“Iconic” gets thrown around like confetti, but the roles that truly earn it share a trait: people revisit them.
They quote lines. They do impressions. They bring it up at parties. They post clips. They compare new versions to
the old one. DeVito’s Penguin lives in that rewatch zone.

And because Batman Returns is a Christmas-set movie with a darkly playful tone, it has also become a seasonal
rewatch for some fansan offbeat alternative to the standard holiday rotation. That yearly return trip keeps the
performance alive in the culture, which helps explain why “another crack” doesn’t sound ridiculous. It sounds… kind
of inevitable.

Bonus: of Experiences Around DeVito’s Penguin (Fans, Sets, and Pop Culture)

If you ask fans what they remember about DeVito’s Penguin, the answers tend to sound less like a film-studies
essay and more like a bundle of vivid snapshots. People recall the first time they saw that silhouette waddling
through the snow, the instant recognition that this wasn’t going to be a polite, sanitized villain. For many,
the experience is tied to a specific era of moviegoing: packed theaters, giant posters, and the sense that superhero
movies could be genuinely strange instead of uniformly “cool.”

Rewatch experiences are their own category. Viewers often notice new layers as they get older: the character’s
loneliness feels sharper, the satire feels louder, and the performance feels even more impressive when you realize
how much of it is communicated through posture, timing, and voice despite heavy costuming. The Penguin is theatrical,
yesbut it’s also precise. That precision is why the comedy still lands instead of turning into pure noise.

Then there are the behind-the-scenes experiences that have become part of the story fans trade like trivia
collectibles: the talk of long makeup sessions, the way cold, wintery set conditions shaped cast and crew comfort,
and the general reality that playing a larger-than-life villain can be physically demanding even when it looks like
a blast on screen. Those details matter because they emphasize that “iconic” isn’t effortless. It’s builthour by hour,
take by take, while someone adjusts a costume piece and an actor tries to stay expressive through it.

Another experience that resonates today is the actor-to-actor respect that emerges when performers compare notes.
When DeVito and Colin Farrell discussed their Penguins, it underlined how the role isn’t one fixed interpretation
it’s a problem to solve. Farrell approached the character through modern crime drama realism; DeVito approached it
through Burton’s heightened gothic opera. Fans watching that kind of conversation often feel a rare satisfaction:
the sense that different versions don’t have to “defeat” each other. They can coexist, each serving a different mood.

Finally, there’s the creative experience of the character living beyond the film. DeVito even returned to Penguin in
a different medium by writing a story for a DC Comics anthologyan example of an actor staying connected to a role in
a way that isn’t just “pay me and I’ll show up,” but “I have ideas about who this character is.” For fans, that kind
of involvement feels like a gift: it suggests the performance wasn’t a temporary job, but a character that stuck in
the actor’s imagination too.

Put it all together and you can see why the idea of DeVito taking another crack at the Penguin continues to charm
people. It’s not only about reliving the past. It’s about revisiting a specific kind of movie magicbold, weird,
sincere, and unafraid to be a little messydelivered by a performer who never seems embarrassed to go big.