Batman Begins

In 1939, Bob Kane mustn’t have had the slightest idea that his newly created superhero of the Dark Knight would become the most repeatedly re-interpreted of them all, whether it be in the forms of comic books, television, and film. Three consecutive filmmakers have now taken their respectable stabs at doing justice to Kane’s iconic character, and their films basically cover all the bases of the superhero’s various interpretations. In the first two films by visionary director Tim Burton, Batman was used as nothing more than an emotionally hollow portal of ominous brooding, while showcasing villains (most memorably portrayed by Jack Nicholson and Michelle Pfeiffer) as the central objects of morbid fascination.

The next two films by the more commercial Joel Schumacher gradually became a throwback to the pop entertainment of the 1960’s TV show that had more of an emphasis on popcorn amusement than pathos. This proved to be great fun in Batman Forever (1995), which still remains the single successful mixture of humor and drama in the Batman films, yet he failed miserably with Batman & Robin (1997), which emerged as nothing but an unbearably corny parody of the entire franchise. Warner Bros. basically left the Dark Knight on hold after that, and after an eight-year hiatus, Batman is back on screen, brought back to life by the audacious young Brit Christopher Nolan.

His indie thriller Memento (2001) was a sensation, not just because of its nonlinear storyline, but because of its psychologically brooding angst, which is found running amok in Batman Begins. It’s easy to defend this version as the best Batman film simply because it focuses more on the backstory of Batman’s true identity, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, yet an argument could be made that at least the first and third Batman films also dealt with Wayne’s dark past. Forever especially studied Wayne’s psyche, ridden with identity crises and tragic childhood memories, with an amount of care and insight that the film was never really given credit for.

What truly makes Begins the most fully realized cinematic version of the Dark Knight is that it refuses to make anyone other than Bruce Wayne the single most fascinating character onscreen (Forever was often upstaged by the ever-hilarious Jim Carrey). Looking quite beefed up after his equally tormented work as the skeletal central character of The Machinist (2004), Christian Bale shatters any memory of former film caped crusaders Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, and George Clooney, by delivering the most unapologetically dynamic portrayal of Bruce Wayne captured on film. He’s still driven by fear and past torment, yet his actions evolve not from boorish depression but the bold determination to fight his fears, and avenge the death of his parents by instilling fear in the souls of Gotham City’s most corrupt inhabitants.

Bale is also the first Bruce Wayne who doesn’t punctuate nearly every line with long, brooding pauses. The fact that Batman is finally so thoroughly alive allows this Batman film to be the first to truly soar on the slashing wings of its more humanistic than iconic caped crusader. What also sets this Batman film apart from the others is that it actually tries for something neither Burton nor Schumacher even dared attempt: plausibility. Director Nolan must have smiled with audacious glee when he gave this Batman an army tank for a Batmobile, an out-of-focus Batsignal, a shoddy rock of a Batcave, and a suit made from spare parts of army gear deemed “too expensive” for wide use. Instead of casting a fantastical art-deco version of New York as Gotham City, Nolan instead chose the city of Chicago, and the result is spellbinding.

If Chicago has seen better days as far as mainstream film production goes, this film will most surely ignite new interest in Hollywood filmmakers using “sweet home Chicago” as a stomping ground for big-budget projects. The city drips with film noir and ominous atmosphere, while also lending a sense of grounded reality to everything that happens within it. You could almost believe the spectacular chase between the police and the…er-…Battank that, at one point, takes place on the rooftops of Gotham (while the Board of Trade as Wayne Enterprises glows in the distance).

Yet the city of Chicago isn’t the only bit of superb casting in a film practically bursting at the seams with phenomenal acting talent. Liam Neeson projects an almost meditative wisdom that is startlingly interrupted with raw ferocity as Wayne’s trainer, while Michael Caine exudes sublime, fatherly warmth as Alfred the butler. Gary Oldman, Katie Holmes, and Morgan Freeman ably sink their teeth into roles of understated goodness, while Tom Wilkinson, Rutger Hauer, and Ken Watanabe embody their evil characters with a menace that is more tangible than comical. Cillian Murphy, the star of 28 Days Later, is by far the most vibrant villain, and bears a ghoulish stare so haunting and assured that it chills the blood much more than his traditional scarecrow mask.

In the end, however, I can’t quite label this film as a total masterpiece, since at two hours and twenty minutes, the film still feels rushed. Although Batman isn’t seen until the first third of the film, the training scenes sometimes feel as jarringly cut as the film’s trailer. Anytime the film attempts to be more commercially accessible (which thankfully is rarely), it comes of as simply cheap (do we really need characters to say lines just so they can be meaningfully repeated later in the film?). There’s a plot centering around a toxic poison which turns Gotham citizens into fearful zombies that seems more muddled than it needs to be. In its no-holds-barred pursuit for realism, the film also loses practically any trace of humor, and when a wisecrack is attempted, it feels merely like a distraction from the film’s merciless seriousness.

Yet these are just minor quibbles, considering the fact that this is the most three-dimensional depiction of the Dark Knight yet seen on the big screen, and Nolan’s film is consistently fascinating (sometimes even breathtaking). I do hope, however, that if he chooses to make another Batman film, he doesn’t revisit old cinematic villains like the Joker or Two-Face. Nolan is a supremely original talent, and has here proved he can breathe life into old franchises. Let’s just hope his originality isn’t squandered by letting Hollywood repeatedly use him to bring a fresh perspective to old material. Unfortunately, audiences don’t possess the short-term memory loss of his Memento character that would be needed for such a Hollywood scam to be thought of as original.

Rating: ****1/2 (out of *****)