Director: Christopher Nolan
By Roderick Heath
My favourite Batman movie is the one with Adam West. Perhaps it’s the retro-camp fan in me. But who doesn’t still remember the old show’s theme, or recall, with a bit of a smile, the endless variations on “Holy (whatever) Batman!” For dumbed-down Lichtenstein, the ’60s Batman was still a truly pop-art creation. It was stylish, funny, mocking, and zippy. I’ve never really been sure what to say about what’s come along since then. Tim Burton’s films came close to pop-art with their totally created Gotham City and outsized story and character gestures, but since Burton turned Bruce Wayne from a playful hipster into a dour, brooding near-psycho, Batman himself has consistently been the least interesting aspect of his own films. Burton didn’t seem able to find any love for his characters, in the way that he could embrace Ed Wood or Edward Scissorhands. Joel Schumacher’s entries were barely tolerable audiovisual assaults best watched mildly toasted.
Along came Christopher Nolan, a Brit would-be auteur with middling talent as a director and much talent as a poseur. Memento (2000), Batman Begins (2005), and The Prestige (2006) were, at least, all ambitious and “smart”, but they were also gimmicky, overlong, and lacking in depth. Despite their exertions, they, too, were disengaged films without heat, love, or real art. They were, to quote his own work, all Pledges and no Prestige, byproducts of our cleverness uber alles era.
The Dark Knight indicates that Nolan seemed aware of his missteps on Batman Begins. The story is simpler, the landscape less cluttered, the characters better drawn, the action tighter, and it tries for some genuine emotion. Aspects of the tale, like Harvey Dent’s (Aaron Eckhart) idealistic plight and Jim Gordon’s (Gary Oldman) conscientious despair, reach a pitch of operatic effort, if not result. Nolan’s new Gotham City is a normal-looking place with a minimum of CGI and silliness. The stringent, almost noir realism is refreshing at first, aiming for an aesthetic pitch that isn’t too far from Michael Mann. The trouble with this is that to a certain extent, it subtracts what’s attractive about a comic book in the first place—the colour, the invention, the defiance of reality in vivid print. Nolan attempts to transpose the surreal into the real world.
It doesn’t actually work. Batman just seems like an unnecessarily showy self-promoter in this milieu, and Dent’s eventual transformation into Two-Face presents just a scarred, scared, sorry bastard rather than one of the strip’s delightful grotesques. Here Nolan finds the limit of his ambitions—he can’t get real enough to explore Dent’s fate as tragic, but he’s turned his back on the twisted fantasy it began as. Nolan’s tone-deaf to the finer points of style and symbolic value. The dualism of Batman and the Joker, and Two-Face Dent between them fulfilling both of them, is both emphasised with the subtlety of a jackhammer, but also still feels fudged. The fact that Batman is a do-gooder who wears the apparel of traditional evil and the Joker is a villain who poses as a bringer of laughter, seems slightly too witty for this context.
One creation in Nolan’s new film, however, bridges the divide, and the catalyst for that is Heath Ledger’s inhabitation of The Joker, a figure who invents himself and plays up his own unreality. Indeed, it’s probably closer than any other version to the comic strip’s version of the character. The Joker, and Ledger’s performance within, is a piece of high-wire performance art, Dadaist in effect and nihilist in intent. It’s a brilliant idea that Ledger, who seemed to have worked himself to emotional exhaustion in conjuring it, certainly lives up to. When he inhabits the screen, there is the genuine, and genuinely exciting, feeling that anything can happen, and he is, for once, a villain of true weight to match a hero of depth.
The character is wrapped in mystery—his name is never discovered and even his own story of how he gained his cut-up mouth, which he partly obscures behind make-up, keeps changing. He’s a force of pure, taunting chaos, and this charges his scenes in the film with something that has eluded all of these films until now—a note of moral urgency. Unlike Jack Nicholson’s entertaining but absurd Joker, this is a truly malevolent force, a vicious psychopath dedicated to proving that “everything burns.” It’s a pity that the script can’t really keep up with him, as it keeps writing him out for long stretches whilst indulging Nolan’s fondness for convoluted plotting that moves with the grace and dexterity of a steamroller and his poor sense of scene structure and emotional rhythm. And the realism only goes so far. The Joker is captured (briefly) through an utterly ridiculous method.
Meanwhile Nolan stretches out the running time with unnecessary and stupid bits of pseudo-scientific gobbledygook involving cellphone sonar and fingerprints taken off shattered bullets that violates the film’s sheen of terse believability and lurches it into the realm of blockbuster tomfoolery and jaunts off to Hong Kong for some weak spy movie business. There’s one scene where a mob boss (Eric Roberts) is sitting drinking at a nightclub. Then Batman’s there, hitting people. It’s so arbitrarily staged, with such poor establishing shots, that Nolan might as well have had the cast suddenly start a break-dance battle or a dog show, and it would have made as much sense. Nolan has no ability in filming action, his sequences dissolving in blurry shots, frantic cutting, and finally, little excitement. The filmmaking in the action “climax” isn’t as tedious as that in Begins, but it still depletes the tension that Ledger’s antics so commendably earned.
It’s also a pity that Bruce Wayne and his leather-clad alter ego have been shrinking steadily to the point where he’s just a growling, mumbling chin under a hood. Christian Bale is an actor who can do anything, except, it seems, paint with black on black. Wayne is a bore. His lack of an emotional or sexual life of any substance and his moribund moodiness, render him a totally unengaging hero. Wait, oh yeah, the script reminds us that he’s not a hero; he’s a “dark knight”—whatever that means. There are some throwaway gags of Wayne the playboy’s hiding behind his gentlemanly loafing, pursuing models and ballerinas, but that’s strictly window dressing. One mildly rousing scene has Batman belt the Joker, who has broken into the fundraiser he throws for Dent and threatened Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal), his ex-girlfriend. It’s a corny stunt Nolan pulls where Batman’s timely intervention and pith show up this walking spiritual void, and it’s cool.
But Nolan elsewhere has no skill at melodrama, and that’s a fatal lack for what is, let’s face it, not really art, really not deep. The moral conundrums The Dark Knight puts up are shot down in a few lines of Zen wisdom by Alfred (Michael Caine). Sure, it’s deep compared to where the good guy in the bright spandex always beats the crap out of the bad guy in the black silk. The dark, moral dilemma of the finale is nearly exactly the same, and isn’t actually any more cogent, than the one faced at the end of Spider-Man, and that one was considerably better staged.
But what was the comic book anyway, other than a mishmash of Zorro, Fantomas, Arsene Lupin, with some inspiration from Sherlock Holmes and Vidocq? Is it too much to ask that some filmmaker who grasps both the comic’s essential, semi-surreal stylisation and its roots in urban noir pulp to properly balance these aspects? What’s with this high-concept pressure to explore issues of terrorism and vigilantism? Maybe it’s the only avenue in which filmmakers can explore these issues today, considering that no one goes to see films that are actually about those things. Yet it demeans both forms. After some of the hard-to-swallow plot turns and the general let-down of the last third, I’m not so persuaded that I really wanted that more than I wanted Schumacher’s incoherent psychedelia.
Nolan lets his usual faults of going on too long and not being able to shoot action finally get the better of his very real efforts to make a more meaningful than usual comic book drama. Particularly in the deft, emotionally convincing perfor- mances of Gyllenhaal and Eckhart, the film gains a centre that slips away when one dies and the other goes psycho. That finally leaves Oldman holding the bag as a man trying to defend his family whilst all the freaks fight each other to stand-still. The Dark Knight is not a bad film at all, but it’s also light years away from the instant, legitimate noir classic it’s being hailed as. It may take a new, revved-up Catwoman to drag a reaction from this Batman that doesn’t sound like he merely needs a cough lolly. l
7 thoughts on “The Dark Knight (2008)”
For the record, I am a film geek, not a comic book geek.
I thought that should be said, because I find this film not only entertaining, but somewhat of a milestone.
This is the first movie based on a major comic book hero that had me thinking as I left the theatre, “That was a great crime picture.”
Now, I love SUPERMAN THE MOVIE and SPIDERMAN 2 just about as much as I love this movie, but THE DARK KNIGHT has something the other two don’t. And that’s a place in reality.
Sure a majority of the things that take place in this film don’t happen in reality, but they could.
I think all the actors, not only Ledger, deserve praise here. Especially Eckart and Oldman. The Joker was an exteremely interesting character, but Dent was crucial to the film’s central theme. What is the true nature of man and why do they do the things they do?
I think Nolan is more than a competent filmmaker. MEMENTO was a solid effort. As well as THE PRESTIGE. And BATMAN BEGINS was the best of all the big screen incarnations of the character until this, THE DARK KNIGHT.
The action here was much less frantic than the last and while the car chase under lower Wacker doesn’t belong on the short list of great chases (TO LIVE IN DIE IN LA, BLUES BROTHERS, ROAD WARRIOR…) it was still visceral and exciting.
The hand to hand combat was much better in this second picture, with Nolan holding his shots so we could see each punch hard punch.
This may seem like a rant by a rabid Batman fan, but really, I spend most of my time watching Renoir and Fellini. But I do think THE DARK KNIGHT is a wonderful picture that should take home more Oscars than any big budget film so far this year.
ps. I think that picture of Two-Face being strangled in your post is a photoshopped still from De Palma’s BLACK DHAILIA.
Rod, I fall somewhere in between you and Jonathan, though I end up leaning toward Jonathan.
I’m a Nolan fan, so that helps. It’s not that I don’t disagree with your criticism of his methods, it’s just that they haven’t bothered me in the particular films that I’ve enjoyed (this one and The Prestige the most). I don’t know if that makes sense.
I also think Bale was fine as Bruce Wayne, or I should say Bruce Wayne was fine as Bruce Wayne, more sophisticated and less juvenile than Tony Stark. I bought him as a tortured hero who didn’t know when to hang up his bat boots.
Despite our disagreements, it’s exemplary reviews like yours that help initiate legitimate discussions on a film’s divisive aspects.
And your last sentence actually made me laugh out loud.
The old 60s Batman with Adam West is fun in its own right, and faithful in its way to the oldest of the Batman comics, but it also leaves out a great deal of the character’s complexity and the mythos surrounding him. The first Burton film did a little better, but still didn’t quite nail it, and Nicholson’s Joker, fun as he was, was pretty distant from the psychopathic, pathological creation stalking through the pages of Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke with a deranged laugh and an obsession with driving his fellow man to madness. Ledger’s portrayal of the Joker has hit home with so many people because he’s finally brought the Joker of the comics to vibrant, horrifying life, and it’s a powerhouse turn that would have earned any actor accolades no matter what happened to them afterwards. Moreover, Nolan and his brother have written a script that does justice to this character’s warped moral universe, and the ethical triangle of Batman/Joker/Dent is fleshed out in compelling ways throughout the film. This is, despite its occasional nagging problems, the best screen Batman yet, a vast improvement over its already-fine predecessor.
I’ve written more about the film here and here.
I think how true this Batman stays to the comic strip is dependent on which comic strip you’re looking at. I’m of the camp that thinks what Frank Miller did with the comic (fascist sexist he may be) was more interesting than most things done before, and I think Nolan got very close to that kind of gothic realism. I liked it.
Thank god for you, Ferdy and Rod.
Superlative review here, I found myself falling for many of TDK’s wayward charms, but ultimately I was not as bowled over as many people out there.