Originally Posted July 12th, 2012

What is it about Batman that makes him so popular? He doesn't have all the powers of Superman, he doesn't have any powers at all really, save for superhuman levels of dedication to mastering the twin arts of violence and intimidation. Spider-man is similarly an orphan, but doesn't let that stop him from cracking jokes. Batman thinks a punchline is goons filing up in an orderly fashion to get their noses broken. And while Bruce Wayne masquerades as a boozing Lothario to keep his identity a secret, Tony Stark acts like a billionaire playboy because he's a billionaire playboy. On paper, it seems odd that the runt of the superhero litter is the one everybody seems to care about.

If Superman is our wildest aspirations for what we could be, Batman is as close to a real life Superman as we dare hope could exist. In exploring that truth at the heart of the Batman mythos, Christopher Nolan had to scrape way all the outlandish fringe elements of the comics and previous movies, and returned to audiences the age-old story of a modern man fighting crime, but now honed to a razor's edge. It's led people to criticize Batman Begins, and its equally engrossing follow-up The Dark Knight, for being overly serious. Fine. If a superhero movie being more than frivolous spectacle is somehow a bad thing, I'll still trade all the campy performances and nippled-Batsuits out there for a complex protagonist and a well-developed plot, featuring strong emotional hooks, any day of the week.

Arguing against having a cast filled with incredible actors, who are willing to approach the material earnestly and with conviction, is like complaining that the chef put too much care and effort into cooking your steak. There's the old saying that someone "was a good Batman, but not a good Bruce Wayne," and vice versa, but Christian Bale, as he did in American Psycho, shows that the two identities are not separate, but really inform a single, deeply damaged whole. And it's the first Batman movie to make the guy in the title the actual star; there's none of that billing Jack Nicholson before Michael Keaton crap here, Bale and Batman are the stars.

Using Frank Miller's revolutionary Batman: Year One as a launchpad for the new Batman legend, the death of Bruce Wayne's parents isn't some romantic call-to-arms in a fight against crime, it's the beginning of a lifelong struggle to understand and stop injustice. That drive is given focus under the tutelage of Ducard, an emissary for The League of Shadows, played with a fatherly sternness by Liam Neeson. Both he and Bruce share a secret life, and both wish to end the evils of the world, but their means differ drastically. As Ra's Al Ghul, Ducard would sacrifice the whole of Gotham City to save the world, but as Batman, Wayne devotes himself to saving everyone. A clash of moral relativism and personal ideology makes run-of-the-mill villain plots to get lots of money or blow something up look like the kind of motive only a rich studio with an effects budget would find relatable.

"Training is nothing. Will, is everything, the will to act," Ducard tells Bruce. Other superheroes are made so by accident or birthright, their destiny is spoon-fed to them. Viewers respond to Batman because he creates his powers; his strength, intelligence and skill are all the result of sheer will and determination. Well, it doesn't hurt that he's got the best SkyMall catalogue of gadgets out there, but as with everything else, the toys are routed in spartan efficiency. The old Batmobile would take up half a city block just to park, but the Tumbler will roll over every other vehicle and park wherever it damn well pleases. He's Batman, there's no time to find a meter!

What makes it so easy to talk at length about the conceptual achievements of Begins is that they all spring forth from Nolan's refined understanding of story-telling and his typically craftsmanlike filmmaking. The plot moves effortlessly from setpiece to setpiece, advancing character arcs and motives between all the comic book theatrics. Goyer and Nolan's script is filled with memorable exchanges, even though they can't seem to resist reusing roughly half of the one-liners as ironic zingers later on. Plus, the film looks incredible (and incredibly real) the whole way through; the production team figured out how to shoot a luminous modern city like Gotham with dread, and didn't have to resort to Tim Burton's patented German expressionism-overload.

Really, frustration with Batman Begins has less to do with the film's own seriousness, and more to do with how seriously other people take it. How this is a bad thing is a mystery. Shouldn't we go into every movie hoping that it can incite such dedication? The film generates more rabid conversation than usual because it was designed to; Nolan plays the long game here, seeding ideas of Batman becoming more than just a man, while making a case for the comic book movie as something greater than disposable entertainment by taking the character and franchise to new heights. Yes, Batman Begins is a really, really great film, but for a lot of people, myself included, it's a reminder that pop culture has the ability to make a lasting impression on you, and become unforgettable. Not bad for a comic book movie, huh?

5 out of 5

Directed by Christopher Nolan

2005, USA

Well Bat-boys and Bat-girls, it's finally here. After years of internet speculation, months of binging on promotional material, and more than a few movie tickets bought as a shameless excuse to watch the new trailers, The Dark Knight Rises is here. Christopher Nolan's genre redefining take on the Batman mythos glides into theatres aloft on the praise of audiences and critics alike, but faces the infamous foe that is the finale. So, have Nolan and company stuck the landing, or is the burden of expectation too great to bear? Is The Dark Knight Rises the "Return of the King" or a super disaster of Spider-Man 3 proportions?

The answer is… it's "Jedi". "Rises"is to The Dark Knight saga what Return of the Jedi was to "Star Wars." Wait, wait! Douse the torches and sheath your pitchforks; there are no fuzzy teddy bears or toy tie-ins to be found here, the comparison is meant as a compliment. As many of us had hoped, Bruce Wayne's journey as the caped crusader Batman comes to a definitive, satisfying end, synthesizing the character study that was Batman Begins with the greater thematic aspirations of The Dark Knight into a package that feels whole and complete. Some will find a few niggling questions remain unanswered and criticize the door being left ever so slightly ajar for someone else to pick up the franchise mantle, but it's clear that Nolan but it's clear that Nolan has stretched this comic book adaptation/myth making exercise to its absolute limit.

But just like "Jedi" however,the payments made to satisfying the grander narrative are at the expense of the final instalment itself. The huge shift in scope and ambition between parts I and II created a gulf for the trilogy as a whole that "Rises" spends most of its first act filling in. There's a lot of catch up to play when returning to Gotham eight years after Batman shouldered the blame for Harvey Dent's crimes at the end of The Dark Knight, and everyone's out of their element. As Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) struggles to maintain a lie that cleaned up Gotham's streets, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) retreats further into solitude in his rebuilt Xanadu of Wayne Manor, having retired from nights of jumping off of rooftops to nurse a broken heart and a lack of purpose.

With great speed, a bevy of new players enter to shake up the peace. There's Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillar), an alluring CEO looking to save the world by getting into bed with Wayne industries, John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a rookie cop who understands Bruce better than anyone, and Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), a jewel thief looking for a fresh start with a new identity. But the real catalyst for Batman's return is a new threat, the hulking beast Bane (Tom Hardy), who rasps and wheezes like Vader through an analgesic mask, and has designs for Gotham nothing short of total annihilation.

An exhilarating and beautiful opening plane hijacking (as in, one plane lassoing another midair) launches things spectacularly, but early signs of turbulence come about from the half a dozen plot lines frantically racing towards their required destinations. The instances of contrivance and convenience that detracted from The Dark Knight pale in comparison to the happenstance on display here, and numerous scenes feel like nothing more than setup without the memorable quips and sardonic humour the first two scripts had at beck and call.

With "Rises," Nolan has completed the transition from superhero movie to all out epic, one describing a modern day apocalypse of dizzying magnitude. People talking about the film's awards potential could point to its "and the kitchen sink" approach to weaving in every contemporary boogeyman Oscar voters like to reward, from domestic terrorism and Wall st., to civil uprising and weapon proliferation. It doesn't meditate on these ideas too throughly, but keeps their presence a constant as the heroes and villains scramble toward a powerful finale, amping up the sense of dread and despair as Bruce Wayne faces his most agonizing trials yet.

But that's where the film finds its most focussed and satisfying through line, in closing out Bruce Wayne's story by exploring his dependence on his secret identity. It's fitting that the film comes out the same week as the remake of Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai, because that's how Bruce functions without the cape and cowl, as a warrior looking for a good death in a world that doesn't want him. With doting butler Alfred (Michael Caine) begging him to hang up the costume for good, Bruce's choice to fight evil physically instead of economically and socially comes into question. Through the endless plot turns, character moments and set pieces, one question comes to centre the film and the franchise as a whole: can Bruce Wayne overcome his inner demons and return to a world he gave up on, or is he destined to go down fighting as the Batman?

And it's a Christopher Nolan movie, which means thrilling action sequences (save for a criminally stupid continuity error during a motorcycle chase), gorgeous cinematography from Wally Pfister, and one haymaker of a late game twist that makes up for Bane's intimidating but not always engaging presence. And just as Nolan was the first to really understand Batman, Anne Hathaway's spot-on Catwoman is the sultry, badass addition such a solemn affair desperately needed. Having cleared the bar for our expectations so soundly in its first two instalments, it's no surprise that by the final chapter, The Dark Knight Rises ends Nolan's legend feeling all gassed out. But taken as a part of the greater narrative, its a rousing finish, an operatic swan song that's been earned. To hopefully use this tired old phrase one last time, The Dark Knight Rises may not quite be the finale the Dark Knight Saga deserved, but it's certainly the one it needed.

4 out of 5

The Dark Knight Rises

Directed by Christopher Nolan

2012, USA