khaosworks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
khaosworks) wrote2008-07-21 10:38 am
khaosworks) wrote2008-07-21 10:38 am
"Why so serious?"
Re: The Dark Knight
Good movie, worth watching, great popcorn stuff, but man, was it long. Nolan and Goyer's script was well paced and plotted, but there were a few missteps, which I shall elaborate somewhat on. While some people are hailing this as the ultimate super-hero movie ever made, I still say the crown is staying right on Superman II's head. But that's just me.
As a side note, someone give Christian Bale a lozenge. Please. Or get Kevin Conroy to ADR his Batman speech.
There's good stuff, mostly down to Heath Ledger. The action and explosions aside, Ledger's performance pretty much measured up to the hype, and is probably the darkest portrayal of the Joker I've ever seen, on-screen or off. This is basically a Joker that is playing jokes on the world that are funny to him, and nobody else – not his victims, and certainly not the audience. This is the guy playing to a crowd of terrified smiles, strapped into their chairs with plastique under their seats, laughing only because they're hoping they won't be the next target.
If Batman is a dark god of justice and vengeance, the Joker is Loki, chaos personified. No pranks, no explanations, no rationale, just a punchline of explosive gore. There's nary a joke in Ledger's scripted lines, just the rambling, cynical philosophy of a guy that sees no sense in the universe and is trying to get everyone else to not just see it, but to be it.
Did I mention this was dark? Given all this, Harvey Dent's arc seems almost an afterthought and distraction, and loses some of its punch. I'd have much preferred Harvey's story being set up in this movie, and then Two-Face created the next, but there seems to be some obsession with super-hero sequels wanting to match the number of villains to the number of the movie. Nolan's justification is that Dent was put in to create an emotional arc that the Joker just isn't capable of, but that kind of rings hollow: why not give Bruce Wayne an emotional arc? You can see it peripherally touched on when he questions what he's inspired, but it's summarily dismissed by a homily from Alfred. Which is, frankly, just as disturbing as the Joker's antics, because Alfred tells Bruce that casualties are to be expected in his war on crime, which is essentially saying the ends justifies the means. Alfred's a surrogate father figure, he's supposed to be one of those things that keeps Bruce grounded in reality, a moral centre, and to see him buying into the insanity and encouraging Bruce to embrace it seems to be way off.
I can see what the script is trying to do with Harvey, setting up the triumvirate with Batman and Gordon and having Joker take down the "best" of the three, but with Ledger's performance taking over the centre spotlight, there's barely enough time to care about Aaron Eckhart's workmanlike performance, and the movie's long enough as it is. Which is why Two-Face's story would probably be better served as another movie, rather than perfunctorily created and disposed of with Harvey's abrupt death. Two-Face is an incredibly complex and layered character, with his obsession with order, chance, and duality capable of so many interpretations, and the character deserves better and more prolonged treatment. So far the movies have not given him that.
(Speaking of characters who deserve better, Rachel Dawes, nearly completely inconsequential in the first movie, completes her inconsequentiality in this one. What a waste of Maggie Gyllenhaal.)
Another thing that keeps this from being a perfect Batman movie is the brightening up of Gotham, from that dark, gothic labyrinth, perpetually shrouded in shadow and dripping with corrupting rain to a more downtown Chicago look. One of things that makes us root for the Batman, and understand why he's dressing up like a flying rodent and kicking the crap out of criminals is that in a city as depraved as Gotham, that kind of insanity is the only rational response. Brighten the city up, and suddenly Batman is looking as nuts as he would be in real life, and his methods more difficult to justify.
In fact, that brings us to the disturbing moral that ends the movie: "Batman is the hero we deserve, Harvey is the hero we need." When you've just spent the last half hour of the movie showing that Gotham is worthy of redemption, and that there truly is good in its people, then why is Batman the hero they deserve? Personally, I was half expecting the civilians to turn the key and blow their own ferry up rather than the crooks' ferry: that would have been a Joker twist.
While the movie makes the point that Batman is ashamed of the bat-dressed wannabes that have taken up the fight against crime in his name, it still drives the message home that it's okay for the hero to be thought as a villain as long as he does the "right" thing, whether it's accepting casualties in the war on crime, or creating a universal surveillance system, once again underlining that the ends do justify the means. (Which scares me a bit because I can see proto-John Hinckleys and Tim McVeighs and Tom Kaczynskis latching onto this idea like Taxi Driver. But I'm being paranoid.)
Put another way, if Batman is the hero Gotham deserves rather than needs, then there truly is no hope for Gotham. Maybe that's what Nolan and Goyer were trying to say, but it seems a bit inconsistent because the people on the ferries both made the good call. Call me old-fashioned, but I like my super-hero movies to have some glimmer of hope.
Perhaps part of the difficulty is that in the end, the Dark Knight isn't really a super-hero movie, or it can't decide if it wants to be one. They even say it at the end, that Batman's not a hero, but a dark knight. There are no punch the air moments, there is no grand climax, there is no catharsis. There's a very even, relentless plot-driven pace (so even, in fact, that it's almost flat, but that's the Jeph Loeb influence, I fear), but the way it's directed and photographed, it takes it out of the grand opera of comic books and into the grimy world of real life. "Why so serious?" saith the Joker, and the same question might be directed at Nolan and Goyer. Again, this is what they seem to want the movie to be, but then it becomes somewhat depressing. Then again, this is their The Empire Strikes Back, so perhaps the heroic comeback will be in the third movie/act.
Still... not that it didn't hold my interest, but I came out of the cinema vaguely unsatisfied, though entertained. It's all right to be reality driven, but when the attempts at reality and/or emotion are sidelined by the occasional theatricality punctuating it all, as in the chase sequence, it seems a bit unfocussed. Gordon's final monologue was also a bit jarring in its operatic lyricism, given the entire "reality" feel of the movie. Also, I did not really give a crap about Bruce's angst over Rachel – creating a man crush with Harvey would have actually been more compelling.
I probably think about these things way too much, or I'm turning into too much of a grouch in my old age. In the end, despite my minor issues with it, The Dark Knight is much, much recommended, and is a truly adult super-hero movie. I won't say it's the greatest, but for what it's doing, it's right up there, and at the very least, provides ample food for thought about what heroes are, what we want them to be, and where Batman fits along that spectrum.
Good movie, worth watching, great popcorn stuff, but man, was it long. Nolan and Goyer's script was well paced and plotted, but there were a few missteps, which I shall elaborate somewhat on. While some people are hailing this as the ultimate super-hero movie ever made, I still say the crown is staying right on Superman II's head. But that's just me.
As a side note, someone give Christian Bale a lozenge. Please. Or get Kevin Conroy to ADR his Batman speech.
There's good stuff, mostly down to Heath Ledger. The action and explosions aside, Ledger's performance pretty much measured up to the hype, and is probably the darkest portrayal of the Joker I've ever seen, on-screen or off. This is basically a Joker that is playing jokes on the world that are funny to him, and nobody else – not his victims, and certainly not the audience. This is the guy playing to a crowd of terrified smiles, strapped into their chairs with plastique under their seats, laughing only because they're hoping they won't be the next target.
If Batman is a dark god of justice and vengeance, the Joker is Loki, chaos personified. No pranks, no explanations, no rationale, just a punchline of explosive gore. There's nary a joke in Ledger's scripted lines, just the rambling, cynical philosophy of a guy that sees no sense in the universe and is trying to get everyone else to not just see it, but to be it.
Did I mention this was dark? Given all this, Harvey Dent's arc seems almost an afterthought and distraction, and loses some of its punch. I'd have much preferred Harvey's story being set up in this movie, and then Two-Face created the next, but there seems to be some obsession with super-hero sequels wanting to match the number of villains to the number of the movie. Nolan's justification is that Dent was put in to create an emotional arc that the Joker just isn't capable of, but that kind of rings hollow: why not give Bruce Wayne an emotional arc? You can see it peripherally touched on when he questions what he's inspired, but it's summarily dismissed by a homily from Alfred. Which is, frankly, just as disturbing as the Joker's antics, because Alfred tells Bruce that casualties are to be expected in his war on crime, which is essentially saying the ends justifies the means. Alfred's a surrogate father figure, he's supposed to be one of those things that keeps Bruce grounded in reality, a moral centre, and to see him buying into the insanity and encouraging Bruce to embrace it seems to be way off.
I can see what the script is trying to do with Harvey, setting up the triumvirate with Batman and Gordon and having Joker take down the "best" of the three, but with Ledger's performance taking over the centre spotlight, there's barely enough time to care about Aaron Eckhart's workmanlike performance, and the movie's long enough as it is. Which is why Two-Face's story would probably be better served as another movie, rather than perfunctorily created and disposed of with Harvey's abrupt death. Two-Face is an incredibly complex and layered character, with his obsession with order, chance, and duality capable of so many interpretations, and the character deserves better and more prolonged treatment. So far the movies have not given him that.
(Speaking of characters who deserve better, Rachel Dawes, nearly completely inconsequential in the first movie, completes her inconsequentiality in this one. What a waste of Maggie Gyllenhaal.)
Another thing that keeps this from being a perfect Batman movie is the brightening up of Gotham, from that dark, gothic labyrinth, perpetually shrouded in shadow and dripping with corrupting rain to a more downtown Chicago look. One of things that makes us root for the Batman, and understand why he's dressing up like a flying rodent and kicking the crap out of criminals is that in a city as depraved as Gotham, that kind of insanity is the only rational response. Brighten the city up, and suddenly Batman is looking as nuts as he would be in real life, and his methods more difficult to justify.
In fact, that brings us to the disturbing moral that ends the movie: "Batman is the hero we deserve, Harvey is the hero we need." When you've just spent the last half hour of the movie showing that Gotham is worthy of redemption, and that there truly is good in its people, then why is Batman the hero they deserve? Personally, I was half expecting the civilians to turn the key and blow their own ferry up rather than the crooks' ferry: that would have been a Joker twist.
While the movie makes the point that Batman is ashamed of the bat-dressed wannabes that have taken up the fight against crime in his name, it still drives the message home that it's okay for the hero to be thought as a villain as long as he does the "right" thing, whether it's accepting casualties in the war on crime, or creating a universal surveillance system, once again underlining that the ends do justify the means. (Which scares me a bit because I can see proto-John Hinckleys and Tim McVeighs and Tom Kaczynskis latching onto this idea like Taxi Driver. But I'm being paranoid.)
Put another way, if Batman is the hero Gotham deserves rather than needs, then there truly is no hope for Gotham. Maybe that's what Nolan and Goyer were trying to say, but it seems a bit inconsistent because the people on the ferries both made the good call. Call me old-fashioned, but I like my super-hero movies to have some glimmer of hope.
Perhaps part of the difficulty is that in the end, the Dark Knight isn't really a super-hero movie, or it can't decide if it wants to be one. They even say it at the end, that Batman's not a hero, but a dark knight. There are no punch the air moments, there is no grand climax, there is no catharsis. There's a very even, relentless plot-driven pace (so even, in fact, that it's almost flat, but that's the Jeph Loeb influence, I fear), but the way it's directed and photographed, it takes it out of the grand opera of comic books and into the grimy world of real life. "Why so serious?" saith the Joker, and the same question might be directed at Nolan and Goyer. Again, this is what they seem to want the movie to be, but then it becomes somewhat depressing. Then again, this is their The Empire Strikes Back, so perhaps the heroic comeback will be in the third movie/act.
Still... not that it didn't hold my interest, but I came out of the cinema vaguely unsatisfied, though entertained. It's all right to be reality driven, but when the attempts at reality and/or emotion are sidelined by the occasional theatricality punctuating it all, as in the chase sequence, it seems a bit unfocussed. Gordon's final monologue was also a bit jarring in its operatic lyricism, given the entire "reality" feel of the movie. Also, I did not really give a crap about Bruce's angst over Rachel – creating a man crush with Harvey would have actually been more compelling.
I probably think about these things way too much, or I'm turning into too much of a grouch in my old age. In the end, despite my minor issues with it, The Dark Knight is much, much recommended, and is a truly adult super-hero movie. I won't say it's the greatest, but for what it's doing, it's right up there, and at the very least, provides ample food for thought about what heroes are, what we want them to be, and where Batman fits along that spectrum.