With apologies to fans of X-Men ‘97, I must proclaim Prime Video’s Batman: Caped Crusader as the clear winner of the battle between nostalgic revivals of classic ‘90s animated series.

Granted, I may have a bit of a DC bias, but where Batman: Caped Crusader excels is in its ability to be simultaneously fresh and familiar. It may share DNA with Batman: The Animated Series, but the show is not just nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. If anything, Caped Crusader feels even more like Bruce Timm has finally been able to give his definitive take on the Bat mythos.

Part of that feeling comes from the fact that Timm — and co-producers James Tucker, Matt Reeves, and J.J. Abrams — are not burdened by having to ostensibly be a “kids show.” While B:TAS famously appealed to adults as much as children, it was still a cartoon that had to submit to broadcast standards and practices at the end of the day.

That said, the freedom of being on a streaming service does not automatically mean the show indulges in gratuitousness just because it can. The themes are mature without having to be for mature audiences. Instead, Caped Crusader is notably darker than B:TAS by leaning even more into the film noir milieu than its ’90s predecessor. Frederik Wiedmann’s score, for example, is more mysterious and broodier than Shirley Walker’s more bombastic, swashbuckling music of the original series. This is made most apparent during the opening credits sequence, which best captures that tonal shift and establishes the mood for what follows.

The production design of the new series is also a standout. Where B:TAS took place in a universe outside of time in a hybrid of modern and retro aesthetics, Caped Crusader is firmly rooted in the 1940s — or at least, a hypothetical ’40s in which society has modern attitudes about race, gender, and sexuality. (By the way, “toxic fandom” is going to have a field day as soon as the first episode drops. The number of characters who are no longer white or male or straight, etc. is going to set off a certain segment of “fans.” You know the ones. I can already see the YouTube thumbnails.)

The show’s biggest strength is in its interpretations of these iconic characters, particularly the Rogues Gallery. Some of the villains — like Clayface or Catwoman — are throwbacks to their golden age debuts, while others — like Penguin or Harley Quinn — are radical departures from what has come before. In either case, the writers understand Batman is only as a good as his villains, and these are some of the best versions to ever grace the screen.

Speaking of the writing, that is the one aspect that set The Animated Series into a class by itself. Paul Dini is as responsible for that show’s success as anyone else. Unfortunately, Dini is not a part of this animated revival, but the show makes up for that by employing some of the best talent to ever write for the Dark Knight, including Greg Rucka, Marc Bernardin, and Ed Brubaker (who is also one of the executive producers).

Of course, one cannot discuss an animated Batman series without mentioning the voice acting. The late, great Kevin Conroy is arguably the most influential actor to ever play the Batman, and even before his passing, subsequent voice actors were always fairly or unfairly compared to his work on the character. So how would an actor tasked to portray a Bruce Timm-designed Batman fare? Well, I am here to proclaim Hamish Linklater a worthy heir to Conroy’s legacy.

Linklater is able to blend gravitas, menace, and compassion into his performance that echo the type of nuanced portrayal that made Conroy so iconic. For instance, there is a scene where Batman apologizes to Barbara Gordon — in the show, she’s a public defender who actually partners with the hero more than her father does — that is absolutely heartbreaking. Then, the way he subtly modulates his voice when he’s in and out of the cowl vs. the performative public playboy Bruce Wayne persona is masterful. In the later episodes of the season, pay attention to how Bruce’s voice shifts as his conversations with Harvey grow tenser.

The other voice actors are just as convincing. Christina Ricci’s turn as Selina Kyle returns the character to her ’40s femme fatale roots with aplomb. Jamie Chung gives a Harley Quinn performance unlike any we’ve ever seen — which is a feat considering how many actresses have made the character their own over the years. Another standout is Diedrich Bader — who (coincidentally) also voices Batman on Max’s Harley Quinn reprising the role he’s played in several other animated series. Bader gives this version of Harvey Dent a smarmy sliminess that surprisingly gives way to empathy when he eventually turns duplicitous and is one of the best performances on the show. The only voice I bumped up against was Bumper Robinson as Lucius Fox and his semi-Morgan Freeman impression.

Speaking of which, while the show is firmly a period piece that harkens back to Batman’s Detective Comics #27 beginnings, allusions to the Caped Crusader’s entire media legacy abound. An exchange between Lucius and Bruce in episode six calls back to their interactions in The Dark Knight trilogy — in fact; Nolan’s fingerprints can be felt throughout the season, particularly in elements of the Harvey Dent storyline. Similarly, Bruce’s relationship with Alfred echoes the one in Matt Reeves’ The Batman where it is less surrogate family and more Bruce being a dick. Of course, while this is wholly a reimagining of the mythos, echoes to B:TAS are inevitable. (Side note: the way they reference “puddin’” in the Harley-centered episode is pretty genius).

I have to admit there is something comforting about seeing the Bruce Timm animation style onscreen once again. The animation is as gorgeous as ever and perfectly complements the sophisticated storytelling by some of my favorite Batman writers. I can’t recommend this series enough!

Batman: Caped Crusader debuts on Prime Video on August 1.