Forever Knight
Christopher Nolan's retake on the seminal superhero is heavy on heart and soul. (Film review)
by Michael Sean McGowan
The Upside: Gotham's hero live and unplugged.
The Downside: Any fans (if any exist) of Joel Schumacher's Batman gone the way of Chicago efforts might be miffed.
How come Batman doesn't dance anymore?
-Adam West, The Simpsons
No other character of comic book mythology seems to have more to live down than Bob Kane's nocturnal crime fighter, Batman. Basically turned into a kitschy joke by the 1960's Adam West TV show, some degree of respectability seemed to come back when director Tim Burton managed to perfectly fuse the cartoonish nature of the story with its gothic trappings. However, by Burton's second turn at the wheel with 1992's Batman Returns that midway mentality sprung up like a malignant cancer in a story that became all about a polished, darkened sheen but possessed no serious narrative. Joel Schumacher's two efforts, Batman Forever and Batman and Robin only seemed to confirm (and accelerate) that long slide down the hill of irreversible camp. The only difference between those films and the original TV show was Batman's anatomically correct batsuit and Elliot Goldenthal's migraine-inducing score.
Take all this together and it seems evident that any cinematic outing involving the Caped Crusader is bound to fail. You could believe this, but you would be wrong. Taking a page from Sam Raimi's philosophy that comic book stories work best when a) grounded in the real world and b) make an emotional investment in their characters, Christopher Nolan has fashioned Batman Begins, which lays every single previous effort in the dust in terms of bringing the whole mythos to celluloid life. Batman Begins is not flawless, but it probably is as flawless as a movie like this needs to be. This is not the kind of movie you feel insulted or guilty enjoying. It's characters feel real, organic. It's story doesn't feel like it is pandering to middle schoolers on a really slow learning curve. Essentially, it is a master crafted piece of pop art helmed by a man who knows a thing or two about real art.
Nolan is a relative Hollywood newbie- he didn't become a name until his first independent film, 2001's Memento, caught people's attention. But Nolan's wild card was following up one knock out with an even bigger one- the noir-ish crime thriller Insomnia which reminded us how perfectly suited Al Pacino is for roles with just the slightest degree of vulnerability while launching Robin Williams on a string of dark, breakthrough roles he still hasn't come down off of. Nolan's choice to become Batman's resurrector seems both strange and perfect in turns- strange because Nolan hasn't handled an action sequence in his life and perfect because Nolan's specialty is the very complex core without which even the best action sequences mean nothing.
The term "origin story" gets plenty of exasperated sighs from comic book aficionados; after all, when these stories become so ingrained in our pop culture psyche, why the need to retell them again? However, Batman Begins is less about retreading old ground than understanding the path that created the title character in the first place- a path that was dealt with in the past using nothing more than some tepid, Death Wish-style posturing. It tells something important that we don't even get our first look at Batman until an hour into the movie. The first half finds alienated heir Bruce Wayne in a Chinese prison camp, where he has allowed himself to be incarcerated in order to study the nature of evil. He soon finds himself in the hands of the League of Shadows, a militant vigilante group that prefers dealing with corruption on an almost Biblical level. Wayne quickly becomes the protégé of Ducard (Liam Neeson, doing that Jedi mentor thing again) who helps him focus his confusion and guilt over the murder of his parents into a white-hot hatred of injustice overall. But when he discovers the brutal tactics of the League, he breaks ranks and flees in the first of many memorable set pieces in the film.
I don't mean to give the impression that any of this "background" is slow or difficult to sit through. In fact, I was riveted, feeling like I was finally seeing the moral complexity that had been missing from every other Batman outing to date. Nolan retells the murder of Wayne's parents in a series of compellingly tender flashbacks (with Linus Roache nailing the role of Bruce's philanthropist father dead on) that culminate in a quagmire that, in its own right, suggests many believe the word "justice" is most readily defined by who is carrying the gun.
Batman Begins is not heavy on easy answers, nor is it weighted down by masses of psychological brooding the way The Hulk was. At times it shows a quick, viper-like humor, especially during the montage that details the creation of the batsuit (guess what, fans- that mask is made in China!) or Wayne's almost reality-TV-like efforts to play the part of a bratty billionaire playboy. The script, by Nolan and Blade scribe David Goyer, doesn't treat the creation of Batman as a singular event. Rather when he returns to Gotham which is firm under the control of a sadistic gangster named Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson), Wayne carves his persona through trial and error. He takes enormous, sometimes stupid, risks but never fails to learn or improvise from his mistakes.
For me, the biggest draw of Batman Begins was its cast of hyper-professional character actors which pays off dividends. Christian Bale blends just the right elements of steely assuredness and cocky arrogance- no two parts of his fractured psyche make getting to know him difficult. He's bolstered by Alfred, the Waynes' long-serving and loyal butler played to perfection by Michael Caine. In a role usually meant to be nothing more than either the eye candy or the requisite damsel in distress, Katie Holmes manages a titanic feat of adding some legitimacy as a Gotham City ADA, one of the last truly honest bulwarks of integrity left in the city. Another is Jim Gordon (pitch-perfect Gary Oldman), an honest cop who begins to believe that this masked hero might be the only way for the city to save itself. The only real weakness comes with Cilian Murphy (28 Days Later) whose approach to the maniacal psychologist Dr. Crane (aka Scarecrow), who is plotting to release a dangerous hallucinogenic drug into Gotham's water supply, is just a touch on the bland side.
The moments of action might be the only part that could put off anyone who is not completely clued into Nolan's mindset. Don't venture in here expecting anything of the John Woo or Jet Li order- many of the fight sequences are rapidly edited and not completely framed, although I tend to think this is a style choice rather than inexperience. Given that Batman is a character who emerges out of nothing and takes down his enemies with blinding speed, the confusion places us in the best vantage point for the mayhem. Rising to the top, though, is a chase down busy Gotham streets (actually this is the city of Chicago) in the reconfigured Batmobile, which is essentially an armored, six-wheel juggernaut. But for pure spectacle, nothing outmatches Batman Begins' glorious set designs which are appropriately gritty, blend perfectly with the Chicago location, and do nothing but honor the film that served as Nolan's guiding inspiration- Ridley Scott's cult classic Blade Runner.
The timing is appropriate that Batman Begins is now able to emerge from its cave as the furor over George Lucas' final Star Wars installment is beginning to cool. Revenge of the Sith was a good movie, but only on a visceral level. It didn't get me to care. Batman Begins, on the other hand, got me involved. Despite the rot, the deterioration, and the just-plain griminess of urban life that Nolan paints his Gotham in, his world is so complete I wanted to be right there in the thick of things. For a while Batman has had a hard time being anything more than the butt of a joke- now the Caped Crusader is getting his due and just a little bit of respect. A
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