Despite my best efforts (or lack of effort, really), I've attended the opening weekends of two of the summer's "important" (aka "big budget") movies. I saw Star Wars at the last minute, and yesterday afternoon a friend treated me to Batman Begins.
I will grudgingly say that, yes indeed, this is the best of the Batman movies--even better than the first one. I say "grudgingly" because I do like the first movie quite a bit. I like Tim Burton's style in the film. I liked Michael Keaton as Batman (though Christian Bale is far more believable physically and is probably a better actor overall). And I love Elfman's original score, which the new Batman definitely doesn't top.
Batman Begins in some ways, with a split personality. The first half of the movie is excellent. It's strongly character driven, and Bruce Wayne's development from fear to vengeance to the fridge of vigilanteism and justice is both fascinating and convincing. It's when he puts on the mask that the film starts to fall apart.
I don't know if it's an actual design issue, if it was a lighting issue, or if my tastes have simply changed over the years, but the Batman mask in this movie was far too--dare I say it?--comic bookish. Overdone semi-organic angular is not my cup of tea.
If there is a definable weakness to the film, it is the inherent nature of comic book adventures. Even at their more realistic, super hero comics are fanciful. We approach them as fantasy, and they offer us a period of adventure and escape. The best ones offer us insight into our our hearts and relationships. While Batman Begins offered plenty of solid philosophy and adventure, the first half and the ending contrasted too strongly. The character study, though full of mystery and adventure, placed us in a world of slightly exaggerated realism, a world common to nearly every movie. When the fantasy kicked into high gear with the donning of the mask, the psychological realism had to stretch too far. While it did indeed stretch, it stretched thin and began to feel rather limp after a while. The first Batman felt more consistent. While that movie certainly stretched reality, stretched it from the beginning. In an odd twist from expectation, the sudden, prepared stretch of Burton's Batman plays better than than Mr. Nolan's slowly growing one, one that eventually begins splitting its seams.
Overall, the acting was excellent. Michael Caine makes a wonderful Alfred. Rachel, the innocent idealist of an assistant DA, comes across well. Liam Neeson was a convincingly dark mysterious helper and teacher. And Christian Bale performed Bruce Wayne sincerely enough that you could forget he was acting. He became Bruce Wayne. Again, maybe it was the mask (talk about an impediment to serious acting), but his Batman wasn't as good as his Bruce Wayne. His grating "disguised" voice kept the music major part of me cringing, "He's going to get nodes!" Apart from the voice and the mask, Bale played the edgy psychosis of the character well. With the Gotham police, the audience often wonders if this batman is a savior or Satan.
The film explored the nature of who we really are, why we do what we do, and how our actions (or lack thereof) affect those around us. In what I'm hoping is the continuing toll of the death knell for popular post-moderism (the first ringing of which sounded in The Incredibles), the the film emphasized that it's not who you are inside but what you do that matters. In a culture so steeped in the narcissism of self-esteem that it's about to drown in its own watery reflection, this revelation that deeds and choices determine who we are and who we become certainly introduces ripples to the looking pool, if not downright waves.
Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard's score was of the typical brooding super hero variety--nothing particularly memorable or unusual, which means that it competently served its function as an underscore. It did have some fascinating moments, though. At one point in particular, I couldn't figure out whether I was hearing slowly rolling thunder or music. As the thunder continued, it assumed a rhythm and became the music. Brilliant. I'm still not sure if the composers used a recording of thunder or if it was a combination of drums and low instruments.
The special effects were well done overall. Some were downright cool. The opening title (if you can call it that) was masterful, as was Batman's call for backup.
My final complaint is with the level of violence in the second half of the film. The way Batman drives while trying to escape from the police and save Rachel's life, he did indeed become a menace to society. Alfred sees the chase on television and comments angrily that "It's a wonder no one was killed." Indeed, it is downright unbelievable that no one was killed. Again, the violence of the second half contrasts against the first. While Bruce Wayne's path to becoming the Batman is violent, the action either propels the story or reveals and proves character. However, as the villains move to sack Gotham, the director force feeds the audience explosion after explosion after explosion until we drown in an ocean of visual and auditory cacophony.
So why, after all that complaining, is this the best of the Batman movies? Character, character, character. Despite the flaws of the second half, the first half comes off so seriously and brilliantly that it still shines. The other Batman movies feature Batman reacting, a hero defending his city from the forces of evil and/or lunacy. This movie is about Batman himself. The Batman himself is a force. The Batman himself straddles sanity and madness. The Batman, trained by evil (or strict justice), must choose how he will use his training. Will he too follow strict justice, becoming not only judge and jury but executioner? Or will he follow the hero's prayer and pattern?
"In wrath, remember mercy." (Habakkuk 3:2)
Posted by jonhanneman at June 19, 2005 3:49 PM | TrackBack