James Gunn says Batman is his “biggest issue” in the new DC Universe, and for once, the man isn’t being coy about the obvious. But don’t mistake that for self-awareness. This isn’t just some creative hurdle in a lineup of DC heroes—Batman isn’t a piece of the puzzle, he is the puzzle. And right now, he’s in a state of studio limbo that makes the Snyder Cut drama look like a weather delay.
Gunn’s trying to play both diplomat and architect. He’s launching the DCU with Superman, a reboot that’s supposed to set the tone for a new era of connected storytelling, metahumans, and cosmic-level stakes. Cool. But no matter how much you polish that cape or sell the angle that he’s the heart of the DCU, we all know who really brings people to the theater. It’s not Clark Kent. It’s Bruce Wayne.
That’s not me being cynical. That’s math. Batman movies are the crown jewels of Warner Bros. They’re the most profitable, the most consistent, and—here’s the key—the ones audiences actually show up for without hesitation. Batman doesn’t just work in the comics, or on lunchboxes, or in a gritty HBO Max pitch deck. He works in the goddamn box office. And right now, DC has two Batmen caught in a creative custody battle: Matt Reeves’ tortured noir detective, and Gunn’s still-vague version from The Brave and the Bold. And spoiler alert—only one of them has a movie people are actually clamoring to see.
You can feel Gunn sweating behind the scenes. In a recent Rolling Stone interview, he called Matt Reeves “slow” when asked about The Batman Part II. Meant as a joke? Maybe. But in studio speak, that’s a warning shot. A nudge. A quiet “hurry the hell up, because I can’t wait forever.” Gunn claims Pattinson’s Batman is unlikely to cross into the DCU, but never says never. Which is the Hollywood equivalent of “We’re definitely thinking about replacing you, but not today.”
Because here’s the thing: Gunn needs a Batman. Not a one-off, not a moody side project floating in its own bubble. A Batman who can anchor a connected universe. One who can share the screen with Green Lanterns and Kryptonians without feeling like he wandered onto the wrong soundstage. Reeves doesn’t want to play that game. He’s building his own dark little sandbox. And to be fair, it’s a damn good one. The Batman was a breath of fresh rain-soaked air, and Pattinson nailed the whole tortured-emo-billionaire thing in a way that didn’t feel like cosplay. It’s the one DC property in the last five years that felt like it had purpose.
But purpose doesn’t matter when you’re trying to stitch together a cinematic universe. Gunn knows he can’t build a Justice League without a functional, integrated Batman. And every month Reeves delays that script, every extra week Warner Bros. lets him tinker in silence, that window closes a little more. Gunn may be wearing a friendly face in public, but behind the scenes? He’s staring at the clock, wondering when he gets to pull the trigger on his version. No pun intended.
And it will happen if Reeves keeps dragging his feet. Not because Gunn wants to screw over a colleague, but because he can’t afford to wait. Superman might be the symbol, the rallying cry—but Batman is the spine. You can’t build around a guy who’s deliberately keeping himself in another sandbox. If Reeves won’t merge timelines, Gunn has to go nuclear. And when he says “I think I have a way in,” you better believe he’s already circling the date on his calendar.
We’ve seen this before. Back in the MCU’s early days, it was Iron Man who pulled the audience through the multiverse chaos. Captain America gave us structure, sure, but it was Tony Stark who got the applause. Gunn’s trying to cast Superman as the Cap of this new era, but if he doesn’t have his Stark—his Batman—the whole thing risks collapsing under its own weight. And that’s not even a knock on Superman. It’s just reality. Audiences relate to the guy in the shadows more than the one flying above them.
Gunn’s walking a tightrope. He wants to look respectful while buying time. He’s got a Superman movie coming out in weeks and needs to make the press tour sound united, focused, optimistic. But behind the curtain, this is politics. Power plays. Patience running thin. And if Reeves can’t—or won’t—deliver soon, Gunn will have no choice but to let The Batman quietly fade into Elseworld obscurity and put his full weight behind a new Caped Crusader.
And here’s the sad truth: he’ll have to. Because while the fans may love Pattinson’s grimy Gotham, Warner Bros. loves synergy more. And the moment the math tips in favor of Brave and the Bold becoming the Batman, the other one becomes expendable. Not because it failed, but because it didn’t fit.
Batman’s not just an issue for Gunn. He’s the whole damn chessboard. And time’s running out.
Hollywood After Dark 