Once again, we find ourselves staring down the barrel of yet another Hollywood attempt to rewrite history in the name of “diversity” and “representation.” The latest offering from Warner Brothers does not disappoint—or rather, it disappoints spectacularly. Enter: Aztec Batman. Yes, you read that correctly. Picture this: Instead of Bruce Wayne, we have Yohualli Coatl, an Aztec warrior superhero battling the notorious Hernan Cortez—now conveniently turned into a villain reminiscent of Two-Face—from the pages of the history books.
Now, for those who are aware of Batman’s ethos, one glaring issue stands out like a sore thumb. Batman doesn’t kill, a core principle that has been a mainstay since the 1940s. Whether it’s dispatching bad guys with smoke bombs or using batarangs in ingenious ways, the Dark Knight traditionally takes a pacifist approach. Yet, here we are, being asked to imagine an Aztec Batman, part of a culture known historically for human sacrifices. Preserving the no-kill code seems a task much akin to fitting a square peg in a round hole, and you can almost hear the strained gears grinding in the writers’ room as they attempt this impossible feat.
But let’s not overlook the elephant-sized plot hole in the room—casting the Aztecs’ legacy under a warm, rosy filter while villainizing Cortez. Do they expect us to believe Aztec Batman will miraculously avoid the barbaric practices that characterized his civilization? Expecting fans to embrace historical revisionism and cheer for a hero from a civilization deeply entrenched in ritual sacrifices and expansionism reflects poorly on their understanding of what makes Batman compelling: his commitment to restoring order and justice.
In contrast, Hernan Cortez, despite the attempts to paint him as a two-faced fool, played a pivotal role in history, marked by strategic alliances and achievements against tremendous odds. Of course, you won’t hear praise for Cortez’s audacious military campaigns or his efforts in bringing order to chaos in this film. No, replacing the narrative of a daring conqueror with a caricatured villain makes much more sense in today’s topsy-turvy storytelling standards.
So, the question at hand is, why hasn’t anyone told the gripping tale of the conquistadors, the daring feats, and the monumental shifts they brought about? If Hollywood is to be the bastion of creativity, then why this steadfast loyalty to what is essentially low-effort pandering? True, putting a historical spin on Batman could have been an ingenious way to blend fiction and history. But sacrificing integrity and accuracy at the altar of “wokeness” only serves to insult the audience’s intelligence while propagating a skewed version of historical reality.
In the end, perhaps the real joke is on us, the audience, as we watch Aztec Batman take form. Until an answer, some clarity, perhaps even a shred of sanity emerges, it might be wise to reserve applause for real, untold stories deserving of the spotlight. For now, this theatrical historical revisionism serves as another reminder of the slippery slope pop culture has embarked upon, where fact and fiction blur with reckless abandon. Until Warner Brothers decides to honor history with its true heroes, Aztec Batman is, predictably, canceled in the eyes of those who know better.