Cultural Study: Batman

Why do we love Batman? "He's awesome" is a common answer. While true, it's a bit juvenile. "He can beat anybody" is another often heard. That one's a bit more defined, but only touches the tip of the iceberg. "He's dark and troubled and mysterious" also has merit, but not in the way you might think.

Being dark and gritty doesn't actually make something good. At least, not by itself. The Dark Knight is an interesting case, because no one actually wants to be him. Spider-Man is just a normal guy with powers, so being him just gives a regular person superstrength and the ability to save on gas money, via webslinging. Iron Man is a smart, witty, charming, and has all kinds of hi-tech toys. Being him is basically like being a celebrity James Bond. Superman comes from a loving home, is incorruptibly pure, and has a truckload of superpowers. Obviously, that's a pretty sweet deal. But Batman? He has no stable relationships in his life, possible obsessive-compulsive disorder, and lives life in fluctuating states of anger, guilt, and depression. People really mean to say they want Batman's resources, making them a fit billionaire with cool gadgets, at which point you're back to Iron Man.

The other thing someone might mean when they say "I want to be Batman," is that they want his drive. Bruce Wayne has the work ethic of a madman, being a master of forensic science, engineering, strategy & tactics, as well as a dozen martial arts disciplines. That's without superpowers, obviously, meaning each and every person could become a version of Batman, if they just tried hard enough. The comics even reinforce this idea with the Batmen of Many Nations and Oracle, a wheelchair-bound cyber vigilante. Once again, that drive comes from tragedy and loss, things no one wishes on themselves.

All of that is just Bruce Wayne as the Man, though. What about Batman as the Hero? The Dark Knight is fear. To criminals, he's a movie monster, like Jason or Michael Meyers; a creature from the bowels of the shadows, come to punish their wrongdoings. To those criminals' victims, however, he is an unrelenting spirit of Justice. He stalks the thugs, rapists, and murderers, a third party bringing order back to the streets. Politically, the Detective is very attractive on both sides of the spectrum. Conservatives laud him for his harsh stance on crime and self-reliance, while liberals take heart in the fact that he understands some crime is born of necessity or social issues and that he never steps over the final line to take a life.

Batman's refusal to kill is probably the biggest complaint his detractors have towards him. Such complaints are easy to make when you've never held a life in your hands or felt the pain of someone being taken from you. Aside from that though, Batman just doesn't kill. It's a choice he makes, just like billions of people who make different choices from each other. A story is not about what the reader/viewer/listener would do in a certain situation, it's what the character in said situation does. Obviously, that doesn't excuse huge gaps in logic, but the main concern is internal consistency.

Something else usually mentioned in some way, but normally glossed over, is Batman's intelligence. Now, you might be saying "How is that glossed over? It's his defining characteristic as a superhero!" However, this isn't about his ridiculous problem-solving abilities or his insanely customized gear (shark repellent, guidable boomerangs, the Bat-motif on literally every piece of hardware, et cetera), it's about his wit. Batman is what's called a guile hero, using quick-thinking, know-how, and a little luck to get out of perilous situations. As a detective or builder, he can spend time working things out, but here, it's all instinct. In most stories, he's halfway done with some huge plan, with a brilliant masterstroke right when there looks to be nowhere out. It's a trait audiences love, across cultures. Spider-Man's powers might not be at awesome levels, but he's always getting into foes' heads and using his gut to MacGuyver his way to defeating stronger opponents; and sure, it's awesome to see Superman throw down with Doomsday or Zod, but boy, is it ever great when he gets to outsmart Lex Luthor or Brainiac.

No one of these things is what makes Batman legendary, it's everything working in tandem. Batman's the guy without powers (the underdog), he's flawed, but he's the ideal Man. It's been said that Marvel superheroes are right there with you, but DC characters are who you want to be. Maybe you don't really want to be Batman, no one really can be, but he fits right there in the middle. To close out, a line from "What Ever Happened to the Caped Crusader?" by Neil Gaiman. Batman and Superman are in the Arctic, at the Fortress of Solitude. Gotham's villains have gathered in a pact and vowed to kill the Dark Knight, when next they seem him. Superman has told Batman he's as good as dead if the Man of Steel takes him back. Batman's response:

"Every minute they're trying to kill me is a minute they aren't killing innocent people."

The Dark Knight Rises: A Retrospective and Review

Seven years ago, little-known director Christopher Nolan did what many thought impossible after the catastrophe that was "Batman & Robin": He made the Caped Crusader awesome again. The film kicked off a reboot craze and paved the way for gritty, realistic portrayals of previously "silly" or "childish" franchises ("Transformers," "Superman"). The series as a whole proved another thing: You can make a serious, insightful, awards-contender from a comicbook movie.

"Batman Begins" started with a basic idea. The thought was to use a director of smaller, more arthouse films to remove the campy elements of Batman and return him to his pulp-based, crimefighter roots. Indeed, Bruce Wayne's journey through Asia and education of quasi-mystical techniques that comprises the first quarter of "Begins" is reminiscent of old radio favorites, like the Shadow or Doc Savage. In order to accomplish this, a list of directors was gone through, including Darren Aronofsky, before Warner Brothers decided on Christopher Nolan. Little did anyone realize that the film series itself would become a cultural phenomenon, or that Nolan had only begun to lay the groundwork for the epic story of Bruce Wayne, hero.

"Batman Begins" was relatively unique at the time of its premiere, due to the fact that it was first and foremost the story of the hero. Up until that point, most comicbook adaptations had given equal weight to, or even focused on, the villains or love interests; doubly so if a big name actor/actress was in one of those roles. "Begins," on the other hand, had probably 90% of its scenes feature Bruce Wayne, with a further 5% of scenes devoted to other characters' reactions to him.

"The Dark Knight" rattled things up again when it focused on an interconnecting mesh of gangsters, cops, lawyers, ordinary citizens, and of course, superheroes and villains. The narrative revolved around the progress the Caped Crusader had made in his war on crime, and the cost that comes with it. "TDK" is obviously notable for several things, chief among them being Heath Ledger's lauded performance and untimely death. Much was made of Ledger's stand-out portrayal of the notorious terrorist/serial killer/prankster, but with "The Dark Knight Rises" ignoring the Joker and following up on Harvey Dent's legacy and Batman's fate after taking the rap for murders and losing the woman he loved, "TDK" is viewable in a different light. It's no longer the story of the Joker's attack on Gotham, but rather about a few men waging their own war on the evils of the city and the price they must pay.

Of course, Ledger's Oscar grab wasn't the only run-in "TDK" had with the Academy Awards. The film was snubbed for a "Best Picture" nomination over more traditional fare (read: not comicbooks). This was despite unanimous critical acclaim, and many feel the outrage over the incident led to the expansion of the "Best Picture" category to 10 nominees. Some also believe the Oscar is being "saved" for "The Dark Knight Rises," to be awarded for the Dark Knight Trilogy as a whole, a la Lord of the Rings. Thus, we are brought to "The Dark Knight Rises."

We finally come to this, what is easily Summer's most anticipated movie, maybe the year's. Over the past seven years, Christopher Nolan has developed his modern-day take on the Hero's Journey. An epic poem for our times, if you will. It's a brazen move, to be sure. In this era of opposing pop entertainment and abstract art, one man and his team became Hellbent on telling a classical story; and of course, "The Dark Knight Rises" is the payoff.

Eight years ago, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) lost the love of his life, took the blame for a series of heinous crimes, and hung up his cape and cowl for good. Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman) cleaned up the streets and paved the way for an unprecedented peace in Gotham City. Now, a new villain has raised an army to destroy the city once and for all for its crimes of opulence and corruption, the tactically genius, physically dominating Bane (Tom Hardy). Bruce Wayne must once again don his crimefighting persona and form a shaky alliance with master thief Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway) to combat the evil that descends on Gotham.

First off, there is a lot of stuff in this film; it's very dense. It's a lot to digest in a review. The best way to start would probably say that a few characters are actually cut out of the movie, relatively speaking. Gordon and Alfred (Michael Caine) seem to have greatly-reduced screentime in favor of Selina Kyle and John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). This isn't a horrible thing, though because those characters are pretty engaging, and learning about their backstories is interesting. However, first and foremost, this is Bruce Wayne's story.

The Dark Knight Trilogy now feels much like Beowulf, where at first Grendel (Ra's al Ghul) had to be vanquished, then the worse Mother (Joker), and now finally the Dragon (Bane). The heroes' ages correspond to their foes, as well. The first villain was faced by a hero that had to prove himself; the second defeated by an established, well-regard hero; and the last adversary was challenged by an older, wearier hero. Of course, the endings to both deal with the symbol and legacy of the hero, and how their "kingdoms" view them after everything.

Christian Bale knocks it out of the park in this one (not that he didn't in previous installments), portraying a broken man, in every sense of the word. He has to deal with a body in less-than-ideal shape and a spirit that lacks true conviction. Many times, Wayne must consider why he fights. Thrill? Death-seeking? Fear? Anger? Which emotions are personal, and which ones are belief? Liam Neeson's character has a line in "Batman Begins," which really sums up the theme of this film: "A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification." Bruce Wayne has become lost in the scramble, and now faces an opponent with undying faith, a man who truly believes that he is doing what must be done.

Speaking of his opponent, most reviews will probably skip over Tom Hardy's performance, but it deserves a mention. He is evil incarnate. If the Joker was unbridled chaos, Bane is pure tyranny. Hardy's presence onscreen is sizable (and not just because of his physique, which is massive when he takes off that vest), making the viewer wonder how Batman will make it out of Bane's grasp.

The film has a very somber, depressing tone for most of its runtime. There's a sense of hopelessness, throughout. Then the third act comes, and you remember what a hero is, including the closest thing to a middle finger Batman can give his enemies. In fact, it's even better.

One other thing that should be mentioned before closing, is the supposed Occupy Movement connection. It's very easy to see both sides of this issue. On one hand, Bane and others in the film are urging lower-class Gothamites to rise up and take control of the city's spoils, and condemning a police force that would protect the ignorant and elite. On the other hand, the guy demanding that is a murderous despot. JRR Tolkien once said that there's a difference between allegory and applicability. An allegory is in direct reference to something else, whereas applicability means the work can be compared to any number of things that recur. There will always be those with nothing, and fat thieves who hide behind the law, it's as true today as it will be tomorrow. A theme of the movie is that suffering builds character. So while Christopher Nolan may not be commenting on Occupy or the Tea Party, he seems to believe no one should be sheltered in their castle immune to pain, but that also the less fortunate need to drive harder. As Commissioner Gordon points out "The system became shackles."

The film is long, like any epic. Aside from that, there are only singular words that come to mind about the movie. Bold. Layered. Grand. "The Dark Knight Rises" takes the superhero genre to a whole new level, commenting on the power of belief, symbols, and the loss. It's almost a religious film, in many ways (not as explicitly as "Batman is Jesus"), requiring multiple re-watches to catch all the nuances of what also works as a blockbuster.