Nolan and Goyer's Batman Films (Begins and The Dark Knight)
Posted: Tue Jul 15, 2008 6:07 am
I realize there is an existing topic for The Dark Knight; however, it is almost a month old (the rules say nothing about bumping old topics as far as I know, though I'll assume it's met with some scorn based on past experiences), and I would like to discuss the broader issue of Nolan's Batman universe. What did you think of Begins? What do you think of The Dark Knight, assuming you've seen it (it's coming out in a week, and it looks like it's going to be the must-see movie of the summer)? Can Nolan push the franchise any further? Express your thoughts here.
I hope there are some fellow fans of this franchise at least.
On Batman Begins:
I don't particularly mind superhero films. Some, like the original Superman and its sequel (and the, in my opinion, decent Superman Returns) have an epic, mythical quality to them that's unmatched in most other genres. Of course, the original Superman, for all its inconsistencies, plot holes, and numerous other faults, got it right. Burton's Batman followed suit with a different tone but a similar texture, if that makes sense. This mythical approach can be expressionistic or even religious in its grandeur. It has a lot of potential, and it feels grounded in a twisted or optimistic view of our world.
There are also wholly unrealistic comic book films that don't seem to care for realism at all. The two Schumacher Batman films took care of that approach, as did X3 and, in my humble opinion, Sin City and 300. Despite the supposed success of this approach, I don't appreciate it. I like realism and, in its absence, I like heroics to be grounded in their own, instantly definable and recognizable reality. Sometimes this means straying from the source material (Sin City was notoriously faithful). To their credit, sometimes these flashy pictures do remain consistent within their own reality, but are so patently unrealistic that certain viewers could be alienated, whether they pile on the neon or the black-and-white. I'm not suggesting that Sin City is anywhere near as bad as Batman and Robin, just that its lack of realism had a similar effect on me.
Then there's the more modern approach with the sympathetic, teary-eyed, conflicted heroes. For that, we've got the Spider-man films and most of the other Marvel stuff; and though their characters exhibit varying degrees of emotionalism, they at least feel like part of the same universe. It's realistic, but realistic like a summer action film, with a bit more gravitas.
When I strolled into the local theater to watch Batman Begins, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I'd heard the hype; to me it sounded like a gimmick, trying to approach the Batman mythos from a grittier perspective. It either wouldn't be different enough from previous approaches to warrant the hype, or it would be too different. Burton's Batman wasn't perfect--far from it, in fact, and I didn't like either of his takes on it all that much--but at least the setting seemed to have been well-crafted and had spilled over into the quality animated series and whatnot.
I walked out of the theater two and a half hours later having been proven decisively wrong.
It was, quite simply, my favorite comic-book movie of all the ones I had ever seen (and yes, I am including the masterful Road to Perdition). Its characters mattered, but their emotions weren’t sappy or forced; the tragedy in Bruce’s life shaped him, but it did not define him; and the draw of the villains rested not in their appearance, but in their effect on our hero. This is what the Spider-man films had tried to accomplish, but I’d always felt they went a bit too far or not far enough in certain areas; Begins got it just right, and with a main character with whom I could sympathize.
No more whiny teen dramas (as was the case with Spiderman). No more overly-gritty heroes (X-men). As good as those other movies were, Begins was human. It was not an act, nor was it escapist fantasy, nor was it a superhero film defined by myth or special effects. It felt like a natural, real story—fairly odd when you consider that Wayne’s soul-searching culminates in his decision to dress up like a bat. Some argue the pontificating is excessive, but I find it to be just right; the moral dilemmas were at the heart of Begins, just as they are at the heart of Batman’s character in many of the best graphic novels.
Moral dilemmas were Begins’ gimmick, and thankfully they weren’t reduced to one-liners, even if they weren’t always perfectly delivered by the cherubic Katie Holmes. They represented the movie’s key special effect. The unwieldy third act only proves that Nolan and Goyer’s film did not have to adhere to comic book conventions to maintain its draw; when it attempted to, it faltered. Begins was not perfect, but its flaws seemed to be the inherent flaws of the genre. When character development (rarely forced, contrived, or overacted) was being hammered home to the audience, the film was at its very best.
Plotwise, it deviated from the comics. In terms of tone, it was truer than any previous adaptation to the spirit of the very best comics and graphic novels, largely due to its tangible realism. Most importantly, I understood Bruce Wayne’s mission. For the first time, the message of a comic book film felt like the single most important thing about it.
On The Dark Knight:
That’s why I’m so hyped for this summer’s flick. It still has an all-star cast, with the late Ledger supposedly turning out the performance of his life as one of the definitive villains of movie history. While neither Begins nor The Dark Knight can boast complete realism, they do feel far more grounded in our world than most other superhero films. I’ve watched several trailers, seen all the clips, and unfortunately learned several plot spoilers I shouldn’t have. None of it has ruined the movie for me—I’ll go in, knowing what to expect this time, and if it doesn’t deliver I’ll be sorely disappointed.
But having seen two other Nolan films (Memento and The Prestige, respectively), I have complete confidence in his franchise. Not only is the Joker himself in this flick, but my favorite Batman villain, Two-Face, will no doubt be well-realized by Eckhart. The theme of “escalation” will raise the stakes, I’m sure, and the moral dilemmas will be even more numerous. If I have one fear, it is that the movie will have less pontification. Deliver a few key battles and make them as special-effects laden as you want, but don’t compromise the story.
Frankly, two and a half hours does not seem like it’s enough to cover all the remarkable character arcs that Nolan and Goyer have set out to establish; then again, Begins did a fine job, and it was even shorter.
I’ve seen neither Iron Man, nor The Incredible Hulk, nor any of the other superhero movies released this summer, and I don’t plan to any time soon (Hellboy II might be the exception if it’s as good as everyone seems to think it is). I won’t have the privilege of seeing Nolan’s latest offering on IMAX, and I’m disappointed about that, to be sure; but if story is still at the core of this movie, if the characters still drive the plot without being overbearing, then I’ll forget within minutes.
Frankly, I can’t wait. How about you?
I hope there are some fellow fans of this franchise at least.
On Batman Begins:
I don't particularly mind superhero films. Some, like the original Superman and its sequel (and the, in my opinion, decent Superman Returns) have an epic, mythical quality to them that's unmatched in most other genres. Of course, the original Superman, for all its inconsistencies, plot holes, and numerous other faults, got it right. Burton's Batman followed suit with a different tone but a similar texture, if that makes sense. This mythical approach can be expressionistic or even religious in its grandeur. It has a lot of potential, and it feels grounded in a twisted or optimistic view of our world.
There are also wholly unrealistic comic book films that don't seem to care for realism at all. The two Schumacher Batman films took care of that approach, as did X3 and, in my humble opinion, Sin City and 300. Despite the supposed success of this approach, I don't appreciate it. I like realism and, in its absence, I like heroics to be grounded in their own, instantly definable and recognizable reality. Sometimes this means straying from the source material (Sin City was notoriously faithful). To their credit, sometimes these flashy pictures do remain consistent within their own reality, but are so patently unrealistic that certain viewers could be alienated, whether they pile on the neon or the black-and-white. I'm not suggesting that Sin City is anywhere near as bad as Batman and Robin, just that its lack of realism had a similar effect on me.
Then there's the more modern approach with the sympathetic, teary-eyed, conflicted heroes. For that, we've got the Spider-man films and most of the other Marvel stuff; and though their characters exhibit varying degrees of emotionalism, they at least feel like part of the same universe. It's realistic, but realistic like a summer action film, with a bit more gravitas.
When I strolled into the local theater to watch Batman Begins, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I'd heard the hype; to me it sounded like a gimmick, trying to approach the Batman mythos from a grittier perspective. It either wouldn't be different enough from previous approaches to warrant the hype, or it would be too different. Burton's Batman wasn't perfect--far from it, in fact, and I didn't like either of his takes on it all that much--but at least the setting seemed to have been well-crafted and had spilled over into the quality animated series and whatnot.
I walked out of the theater two and a half hours later having been proven decisively wrong.
It was, quite simply, my favorite comic-book movie of all the ones I had ever seen (and yes, I am including the masterful Road to Perdition). Its characters mattered, but their emotions weren’t sappy or forced; the tragedy in Bruce’s life shaped him, but it did not define him; and the draw of the villains rested not in their appearance, but in their effect on our hero. This is what the Spider-man films had tried to accomplish, but I’d always felt they went a bit too far or not far enough in certain areas; Begins got it just right, and with a main character with whom I could sympathize.
No more whiny teen dramas (as was the case with Spiderman). No more overly-gritty heroes (X-men). As good as those other movies were, Begins was human. It was not an act, nor was it escapist fantasy, nor was it a superhero film defined by myth or special effects. It felt like a natural, real story—fairly odd when you consider that Wayne’s soul-searching culminates in his decision to dress up like a bat. Some argue the pontificating is excessive, but I find it to be just right; the moral dilemmas were at the heart of Begins, just as they are at the heart of Batman’s character in many of the best graphic novels.
Moral dilemmas were Begins’ gimmick, and thankfully they weren’t reduced to one-liners, even if they weren’t always perfectly delivered by the cherubic Katie Holmes. They represented the movie’s key special effect. The unwieldy third act only proves that Nolan and Goyer’s film did not have to adhere to comic book conventions to maintain its draw; when it attempted to, it faltered. Begins was not perfect, but its flaws seemed to be the inherent flaws of the genre. When character development (rarely forced, contrived, or overacted) was being hammered home to the audience, the film was at its very best.
Plotwise, it deviated from the comics. In terms of tone, it was truer than any previous adaptation to the spirit of the very best comics and graphic novels, largely due to its tangible realism. Most importantly, I understood Bruce Wayne’s mission. For the first time, the message of a comic book film felt like the single most important thing about it.
On The Dark Knight:
That’s why I’m so hyped for this summer’s flick. It still has an all-star cast, with the late Ledger supposedly turning out the performance of his life as one of the definitive villains of movie history. While neither Begins nor The Dark Knight can boast complete realism, they do feel far more grounded in our world than most other superhero films. I’ve watched several trailers, seen all the clips, and unfortunately learned several plot spoilers I shouldn’t have. None of it has ruined the movie for me—I’ll go in, knowing what to expect this time, and if it doesn’t deliver I’ll be sorely disappointed.
But having seen two other Nolan films (Memento and The Prestige, respectively), I have complete confidence in his franchise. Not only is the Joker himself in this flick, but my favorite Batman villain, Two-Face, will no doubt be well-realized by Eckhart. The theme of “escalation” will raise the stakes, I’m sure, and the moral dilemmas will be even more numerous. If I have one fear, it is that the movie will have less pontification. Deliver a few key battles and make them as special-effects laden as you want, but don’t compromise the story.
Frankly, two and a half hours does not seem like it’s enough to cover all the remarkable character arcs that Nolan and Goyer have set out to establish; then again, Begins did a fine job, and it was even shorter.
I’ve seen neither Iron Man, nor The Incredible Hulk, nor any of the other superhero movies released this summer, and I don’t plan to any time soon (Hellboy II might be the exception if it’s as good as everyone seems to think it is). I won’t have the privilege of seeing Nolan’s latest offering on IMAX, and I’m disappointed about that, to be sure; but if story is still at the core of this movie, if the characters still drive the plot without being overbearing, then I’ll forget within minutes.
Frankly, I can’t wait. How about you?