Because you can't get enough Batman
The wonderful Jon Tvrdik reivewed the new bat-flick in The Reader this week. That said, having seen the IMAX-tastic non-nippled return of the leather fetishist, I can't help but pen my own, nonsanctioned, nonspoilerific review...that's right, I am as the Ronin, I serve no master with this one.
Drink the Kool-Aid
The Dark Knight actually is that good
I'm disappointed.
The Dark Knight didn't do my taxes or help me lose five pounds, Heath Ledger's performance was not accompanied by a choir of angels humming "Hallelujah" (the Leonard Cohen version or the hymn) and, despite the assurances of almost all critics who attended advance screenings, the whole thing could not be favorably compared to a perfect sexual experience. As it turns out, The Dark Knight was simply incredibly good, which actually makes it somewhat of a disappointment in light of advance praise that would make Donald Trump's hype-mongering appear restrained.
Let's take a step back and deal with the quote-whoring Peter Travers, the League of Fanboys on the Internet (who likely wear costumes only slightly less effeminant than Lex Luthor's purple leotard) and the wave of usually intelligent and reserved critical masses. See, what happened here is that, despite claiming to be open-minded and having given decent-to-great reviews for several comic book films, most of the critics simply hadn't experienced the true genius of the genre before. They weren't weaned on "Watchmen," suckled on "Sandman" or fed Frank Miller. A part of them still believed that the genre was beneath them; they believed that, at best, superhero movies were well-done mass entertainment, pleasing brain candy, diversionary fare and nothing more. What happened here is that Christopher Nolan kicked them so hard in the baby-makin' parts that they ruptured their hyperbole spleen. The long and short of it is, no movie could stand toe-to-toe with the Muhammed Ali-esque descriptors dished out by these guys and not get TKO'd.
That's an awfully long disclaimer to get to the meat-and-potatoes of it all. Simply put, The Dark Knight is hands-down the best film of the year so far but not for the reasons that the aforementioned praise mongers have given.The film opens shortly after the conclusion of Batman Begins, with crime having receded in Gotham City thanks to the presence of a certain leather-clad dude (no, not Paul Stanley). Batman (Christian Bale) has made in-roads in the fight against the mob, with Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) still in Arkham Asylum, the streets are now run by Salvatore Maroni (Eric Roberts) and other second-tier gangsters. Sensing an opening, Batman and now-Lieutenant Gordon (Gary Oldman) hatch a plan to hit the gangsters in their pocketbooks, attacking the banks where they stash their money (first Indymac, now this...not a banner week for banking in America). Meanwhile, a violent anarchist dressed like a clown who calls himself The Joker (Ledger) is stealing the money before Batman or the cops can track it.
Frightened, the gangsters cough up their cash to Lau (Chin Han), a crooked businessman who takes the money from the banks to his place in Hong Kong. Without the money or Lau's testimony, noble new District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) is using his hands to paddle up a certain poo-infested stream. Thankfully, Wayne Enterprises front-man Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) has been working with Lau's front company and can locate him in Hong Kong, allowing for some hot Bat-in-China action.
On the home front, Bruce Wayne's codpiece is still dedicated solely to the lovely Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal), who won't touch his bat-pole until he's done with the whole superhero schtick. Despite the insistence of his loyal man-servant Alfred (Michael Caine) that doing what's needed requires sacrifice, Wayne sees an opening with Dent. The way he figures it, if Dent is the noble public face that can inspire Gotham to greatness, what do they need of Batman's overt sadomasochism? Problem is, the Joker figures this out too, and his desire to unravel what has been perfectly raveled leads the three men into a menage-a-tois of psychological torture that results in disfigurements, destruction and death.
If it sounds like a long plot, don't worry, it has more than 2 and a half hours to get it all done. Normally, this is the part in the review where the word bloating comes up, where I prescribe some movie Midol in the form of editing to help with the water weight. Not here. Writer/director Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathon managed to compose a film that was exactly as long as it needed to be. Many reviewers have praised this film as the Godfather II or Empire Strikes Back of superhero movies. It isn't. It's too terrifying, too relentless. Nolan himself likened it to Jaws, with Ledger as the toothy antagonist. That's a bit closer, but still an imperfect comparison. The truth is, there hasn't been a film quite like The Dark Knight, which uses a deceptively powerful score from Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard (who have been relentlessly unimpressive in recent memory) to cause 150 plus minutes of pure tension.
The obvious culprit for the perpetual fear induction is Ledger, who is worthy of nearly half of his posthumous praise. Sure, that may not sound like much, but considering every review has mentioned that he is an Oscar nominee shoo-in and some have even called it one of the best performances in the annals of film, half-worthy translates to simply fantastic. The key is that Ledger never overdoes the verbal tics, maniacal laughter or insanity. In fact, his only mannerism is perpetual lip licking, his laughter is a perfectly sinister giggle and he is quite sane, just depraved. Nolan's best move was not providing a backstory for the Joker, allowing the character to spit lie after lie about how he got those scars and why he is how he is. The most depressing answer is the one provided: who knows?
All other performances are almost as splendid. Caine, Freeman and Gyllenhaal all shine in their limited roles, while Eckhart plays a second fiddle to Ledger with dreams of first. The only disappointment is Bale, who once again exposes the inferiority of the character of Batman to heroes like Spiderman. Dress him up how you want, the Bat is pretty one-dimensional. Moreover, Bale's bat-growl seems slightly sillier here, his costume still gives him a fat head, his Wayne is a little too callous and stupid and he just isn't as appealing as his villains, never has been.
Visually, in IMAX in particular, the film is such a ridiculous leap from the first that it is as though a different director climbed behind camera. The whole perspective of the film is from the top looking down, with nearly every shot swooping from above. The action scenes are a far cry from the chop-suey ones in the first flick, with each punch landing with thudding brutality. If you're in a theater with the bowel-quaking sound, you will actually feel the mastery of the fisticuffs. The bat-gadgets remain marginally plausible and provide for spectacular practical effects. I cannot stress this enough: If IMAX is an option, exercise that option.
But, despite the fluffy praise they've been given, it isn't the performances or the visuals that make the film what it is. The script is so jam-packed with nuanced philosophies and moral conundrums, the dialogue is so beautiful in its plausible simplicity and the plot is so admirably linear and lean that the writing flat-out steals the show. Obvious references to post 9/11 policies, brilliant dilemmas about the difference between heroism and public service, truly impossible relationship issues and a relentless pattern of spectacular events all mesh in a way that is truly exemplary. The best moment, the one I can't speak of directly, allows the Joker to place Batman in a position to expose himself as truly selfish, demonstrating that he really isn't all the things he claims to be. Really, this is all the Joker wants in the first place; he isn't insane so much as he is hyper-sane, he is so reflective he believes he has figured out the soul of every person. In truth, he outsmarts every single character in the film.
The Dark Knight is a classic and it is easy to see how quickly others have fallen in love with it. I'm going to check out a non-IMAX screening before I render my final, life-long verdict on the matter, but hyperbole be damned, one thing is for sure: If this isn't the best comic book adaptation of all time, it's at least one of them.
Grade - A+
Drink the Kool-Aid
The Dark Knight actually is that good
I'm disappointed.
The Dark Knight didn't do my taxes or help me lose five pounds, Heath Ledger's performance was not accompanied by a choir of angels humming "Hallelujah" (the Leonard Cohen version or the hymn) and, despite the assurances of almost all critics who attended advance screenings, the whole thing could not be favorably compared to a perfect sexual experience. As it turns out, The Dark Knight was simply incredibly good, which actually makes it somewhat of a disappointment in light of advance praise that would make Donald Trump's hype-mongering appear restrained.
Let's take a step back and deal with the quote-whoring Peter Travers, the League of Fanboys on the Internet (who likely wear costumes only slightly less effeminant than Lex Luthor's purple leotard) and the wave of usually intelligent and reserved critical masses. See, what happened here is that, despite claiming to be open-minded and having given decent-to-great reviews for several comic book films, most of the critics simply hadn't experienced the true genius of the genre before. They weren't weaned on "Watchmen," suckled on "Sandman" or fed Frank Miller. A part of them still believed that the genre was beneath them; they believed that, at best, superhero movies were well-done mass entertainment, pleasing brain candy, diversionary fare and nothing more. What happened here is that Christopher Nolan kicked them so hard in the baby-makin' parts that they ruptured their hyperbole spleen. The long and short of it is, no movie could stand toe-to-toe with the Muhammed Ali-esque descriptors dished out by these guys and not get TKO'd.
That's an awfully long disclaimer to get to the meat-and-potatoes of it all. Simply put, The Dark Knight is hands-down the best film of the year so far but not for the reasons that the aforementioned praise mongers have given.The film opens shortly after the conclusion of Batman Begins, with crime having receded in Gotham City thanks to the presence of a certain leather-clad dude (no, not Paul Stanley). Batman (Christian Bale) has made in-roads in the fight against the mob, with Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) still in Arkham Asylum, the streets are now run by Salvatore Maroni (Eric Roberts) and other second-tier gangsters. Sensing an opening, Batman and now-Lieutenant Gordon (Gary Oldman) hatch a plan to hit the gangsters in their pocketbooks, attacking the banks where they stash their money (first Indymac, now this...not a banner week for banking in America). Meanwhile, a violent anarchist dressed like a clown who calls himself The Joker (Ledger) is stealing the money before Batman or the cops can track it.
Frightened, the gangsters cough up their cash to Lau (Chin Han), a crooked businessman who takes the money from the banks to his place in Hong Kong. Without the money or Lau's testimony, noble new District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) is using his hands to paddle up a certain poo-infested stream. Thankfully, Wayne Enterprises front-man Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) has been working with Lau's front company and can locate him in Hong Kong, allowing for some hot Bat-in-China action.
On the home front, Bruce Wayne's codpiece is still dedicated solely to the lovely Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal), who won't touch his bat-pole until he's done with the whole superhero schtick. Despite the insistence of his loyal man-servant Alfred (Michael Caine) that doing what's needed requires sacrifice, Wayne sees an opening with Dent. The way he figures it, if Dent is the noble public face that can inspire Gotham to greatness, what do they need of Batman's overt sadomasochism? Problem is, the Joker figures this out too, and his desire to unravel what has been perfectly raveled leads the three men into a menage-a-tois of psychological torture that results in disfigurements, destruction and death.
If it sounds like a long plot, don't worry, it has more than 2 and a half hours to get it all done. Normally, this is the part in the review where the word bloating comes up, where I prescribe some movie Midol in the form of editing to help with the water weight. Not here. Writer/director Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathon managed to compose a film that was exactly as long as it needed to be. Many reviewers have praised this film as the Godfather II or Empire Strikes Back of superhero movies. It isn't. It's too terrifying, too relentless. Nolan himself likened it to Jaws, with Ledger as the toothy antagonist. That's a bit closer, but still an imperfect comparison. The truth is, there hasn't been a film quite like The Dark Knight, which uses a deceptively powerful score from Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard (who have been relentlessly unimpressive in recent memory) to cause 150 plus minutes of pure tension.
The obvious culprit for the perpetual fear induction is Ledger, who is worthy of nearly half of his posthumous praise. Sure, that may not sound like much, but considering every review has mentioned that he is an Oscar nominee shoo-in and some have even called it one of the best performances in the annals of film, half-worthy translates to simply fantastic. The key is that Ledger never overdoes the verbal tics, maniacal laughter or insanity. In fact, his only mannerism is perpetual lip licking, his laughter is a perfectly sinister giggle and he is quite sane, just depraved. Nolan's best move was not providing a backstory for the Joker, allowing the character to spit lie after lie about how he got those scars and why he is how he is. The most depressing answer is the one provided: who knows?
All other performances are almost as splendid. Caine, Freeman and Gyllenhaal all shine in their limited roles, while Eckhart plays a second fiddle to Ledger with dreams of first. The only disappointment is Bale, who once again exposes the inferiority of the character of Batman to heroes like Spiderman. Dress him up how you want, the Bat is pretty one-dimensional. Moreover, Bale's bat-growl seems slightly sillier here, his costume still gives him a fat head, his Wayne is a little too callous and stupid and he just isn't as appealing as his villains, never has been.
Visually, in IMAX in particular, the film is such a ridiculous leap from the first that it is as though a different director climbed behind camera. The whole perspective of the film is from the top looking down, with nearly every shot swooping from above. The action scenes are a far cry from the chop-suey ones in the first flick, with each punch landing with thudding brutality. If you're in a theater with the bowel-quaking sound, you will actually feel the mastery of the fisticuffs. The bat-gadgets remain marginally plausible and provide for spectacular practical effects. I cannot stress this enough: If IMAX is an option, exercise that option.
But, despite the fluffy praise they've been given, it isn't the performances or the visuals that make the film what it is. The script is so jam-packed with nuanced philosophies and moral conundrums, the dialogue is so beautiful in its plausible simplicity and the plot is so admirably linear and lean that the writing flat-out steals the show. Obvious references to post 9/11 policies, brilliant dilemmas about the difference between heroism and public service, truly impossible relationship issues and a relentless pattern of spectacular events all mesh in a way that is truly exemplary. The best moment, the one I can't speak of directly, allows the Joker to place Batman in a position to expose himself as truly selfish, demonstrating that he really isn't all the things he claims to be. Really, this is all the Joker wants in the first place; he isn't insane so much as he is hyper-sane, he is so reflective he believes he has figured out the soul of every person. In truth, he outsmarts every single character in the film.
The Dark Knight is a classic and it is easy to see how quickly others have fallen in love with it. I'm going to check out a non-IMAX screening before I render my final, life-long verdict on the matter, but hyperbole be damned, one thing is for sure: If this isn't the best comic book adaptation of all time, it's at least one of them.
Grade - A+
posted by Ryan at
9:24 AM
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