Like any icon who’s been around long enough, Batman has appeared before us in a nigh-infinite number of permutations. There are Batmans who fly solo, and Batmans who have Robins. There are Batmans who’ve been at this a while, and Batmans who are new to the job. There are campy Batmans and gritty Batmans, wholesome Batmans and scary Batmans, and every single shade in between.

The first task of any new version, then, is distinguishing itself from the others. Batman: Caped Crusader achieves that easily: It’s a noirish animated take set in the 1940s, not long after the character’s real-world debut in the comics. The second task is persuading us that this new iteration has what it takes to stand on its own, and in that sense its success is more mixed. With a sleek, simple style and a consistently moody vibe, the Prime Video series feels almost as steady Batman’s broad shoulders. But it rarely soars to the level of spectacular.

Presumably recognizing that no one in 2024 still needs Batman explained to them, creator Bruce Timm (Batman: The Animated Series) hurls the title character straight into the action, only gradually and glancingly touching on his tragic-orphan origins.

This Batman (voiced by Hamish Linklater) is already a vigilante when we meet him, albeit one dismissed by criminals and law enforcement alike as a mere rumor. Determined to clean up the city, Batman involves himself in a power struggle between rival gangs — only to realize at the end of the premiere that his actions might have made things worse, and that he can’t afford to fail again. (Tactically, that is. Financially, and to all public appearances, he’s still the unimaginably wealthy playboy Bruce Wayne.)

From there, Caped Crusader‘s ten half-hours veer between serialized crime drama and villain-of-the-week adventures. The former stays relatively grounded, at least by superhero standards. Mob boss Rupert Thorne (Cedric Yarbrough) tightens his stranglehold on Gotham City through a network of vicious goons, dirty cops and corrupt politicians (including slimy district attorney Harvey Dent, played by Diedrich Bader).

Batman evades their grasp while slowly amassing his own allies, chief among them lionhearted police commissioner Jim Gordon (Eric Morgan Stuart). Their clashes play out in good old-fashioned car chases, shootouts and fistfights, with a refreshing minimum of overwrought lore or fussy gadgetry.

It’s in the episodic adventures, however, that the series really lets itself have fun. Its guest stars include obvious favorites like Catwoman (Christina Ricci), an insouciant jewel thief flouncing around Gotham in fabulous gowns and enormous hats. But the Art Deco-flavored city also makes room for lesser-known weirdos like Onomatopoeia (Reid Scott), a hitman who narrates his every action with comic book-y bam!s and pow!s.

The series drags Batman into unexpected detours like the world of showbiz, for a creepy case involving a missing actress, or the supernatural, for a lighter outing about a Revolutionary War-era highwayman (Toby Stephens) targeting Gotham’s poor. (“What do ghosts need money for?” Bruce wonders.) Linklater’s Batman takes it all in stride with the pragmatism of someone who’s seen enough horror to be never truly shocked anymore.

Possibly the smartest thing Caped Crusader does is insulating itself from other Bat-media. The setting does much of the heavy lifting in this regard. Although the series is executive produced by Matt Reeves (along with Timm, J.J. Abrams, Ed Brubaker and James Tucker), there’s no mistaking its post-Depression Gotham for an offshoot of his The Batman, or any other recent DC adaptation.

The mythos gets tweaked in ways both superficial and significant. Harley Quinn being portrayed as an Asian American woman (voiced by Jamie Chung) is a cool but ultimately minor detail, for example; the real jolt is a brand-new backstory that excises the Joker, brings her psychological training to the forefront and in the process shines a whole new light on a character we thought we already knew.

Elsewhere, though, Caped Crusader struggles to generate its own gravitas. Its hero is most interesting in moments when he doesn’t seem like much of a hero at all: when he bristles at the suggestion of therapy; when he inadvertently pushes a man already on the edge to a breaking point; when he needs reminding to care about the specific individuals he’s dealing with, and not just his abstract ideals of saving “the city.” (As the only person who’s aware of Batman’s true identity, it is his butler Pennyworth, voiced by Jason Watkins, who most frequently does the reminding.)

But those moments are brief flashes of lightning in an endless drizzle. The rest of the time, the show follows Batman’s lead in keeping its emotions at a distance. It’s too gloomy to feel approachable, but too mild to tap into the character’s full potential for oddness and ugliness.

Caped Crusader does deepen as its supporting characters organize into a truer ensemble. Detective Renee Montoya (Michelle C. Bonilla), initially appraised as an “asset” by Batman for her rare uprightness, gets a brief romantic subplot that humanizes her more than any of her tenacious investigative work could. Public defender Barbara (Krystal Joy Brown) pushes back against Batman’s penchant for drama with a welcome dry wit, without losing her standing as the series’ idealistic moral compass. By the end of the season, they’ve assembled into a loose team, and the prospect of another outing with them feels more intriguing than not.

But the stakes still feel lower than they ought, largely because the good guys still come across like sketches on a page rather than fully realized individuals with idiosyncrasies, vulnerabilities and desires of their own. What floats to mind is a question growled by one of the Dark Knight’s less celebrated manifestations, at a seemingly indomitable nemesis: “Tell me, do you bleed?” Caped Crusader may not be able to traffic in much actual bloodshed, given its TV-14 rating. But it could do with showing a few more of its bruises.