2022 was a bittersweet 30th anniversary for Batman: The Animated Series and the DC Animated Universe: David Warner, who was one of my favorite bad guys growing up thanks to his role as Ra’s al Ghul, as well as Titanic and Freakazoid!, passed away, as did Gilbert Gottfried, who voiced Mister Mxyzptlk in Superman: The Animated Series. Henry Silva, who voiced Bane, and Farrah Forke, who played Big Barda on these shows, also passed away — and then there was Kevin Conroy, the voice of Batman himself, who died unexpectedly after a brief battle with cancer.
It’s not hyperbole to say Conroy, and his portrayal of Batman, has been a large part of my life: I was only a couple of years old when BTAS premiered, so when I cracked open a comic with the Caped Crusader for the first time, his voice was the only one I could imagine playing from the pages of the book. With few exceptions, this has remained the case with every Batman comic I have ever read: Conroy’s unmistakable vocals, which were somehow incredibly gravelly and exceptionally smooth (and only became more suave with age), radiated an authority that made you believe the Dark Knight was truly the equal of any of his superpowered peers.
I was genuinely stunned to hear he had died: naturally, it was shocking because he hadn’t publicly disclosed he was ill, but on a psychological level, I could not comprehend that someone I associated so strongly with a character I loved had passed away – it would feel strange to read a Batman comic again, knowing the voice I heard was dead in real life. His death felt like salt in the wound after the loss of the aforementioned DCAU stars, and the passing of George Pérez, Tim Sale, and so many more in 2022. It was cruel, and unfair that he was only 66 (and a few weeks before turning 67); I also knew his death meant he would be absent from any further potential Justice League reunions, or non-comics BTAS continuations, and that saddened me greatly.
When Rocksteady revealed at this month’s Game Awards that Conroy reprised the role of the Arkhamverse Batman for next year’s Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League, I welled up with happiness. The end caption, “Thank You Kevin,” felt as much of a sign of gratitude from us, as a statement from the developer. Even when portraying a malevolent, brainwashed Batman, Conroy’s voice provided no small measure of comfort. It feels appropriate given his reputation as a warm and generous person among those who knew and worked with him: Conroy seemed friendly and open in fan circles, and perhaps his kindhearted nature was why his Batman always felt human, even when writers on his projects would push for a cold, aloof characterization.
Many of these qualities were exhibited by Conroy’s “DC Pride 2022” story ‘Finding Batman,’ where he candidly discussed growing up with an alcoholic father, looking after his schizophrenic brother, and working in a homophobic TV industry during the AIDS crisis. Conroy said he was proud to embody a character who meant so much to people: he understood Batman was a hero, who grapples with the darkness every day but rises above it, because he knew what it was like to live with pain and trauma, yet project a presence that suggests otherwise, whether it’s Bruce Wayne the flighty playboy, or a heterosexual leading man. Conroy was not a father, but his love for his character and his fans made him like one to millions, which was a just turn of events given the roles he lost out on to homophobia as a young man.
Perhaps my abiding memory of Conroy’s legacy comes from the Justice League Unlimited episode, “This Little Piggy,” in which Batman makes a compact with Circe to save Wonder Woman’s life. The bargain forces him to perform “Am I Blue?” at a night club, but what was presumably intended to be humiliating becomes a beautiful act of tender masculinity, moving Zatanna and even Circe to tears. According to his co-star Susan Eisenberg, Conroy loved to sing, so it is wonderful he got to flex that at least once in his best known role. The choice of song was also very apt – “Am I Blue?” We all are sometimes, but some, like Conroy, channel it into something inspiring.
Conroy is survived by his husband Vaughn C. Williams, sister Trisha, and brother Tom. My condolences to them in particular; I hope their first Christmas without him was not as hard as it could’ve been. Vaughn, if you’re reading this: thank you for being there for him.
