The Dark Knight Rises

Let's start this off the right way: I am deeply saddened that some assclown (I won't give him the satisfaction of writing his name on my blog) decided it would be awesome to open fire on a theater full of individuals at a midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises. This man, who I hope is brought to swift justice, is scum of the highest order and he robbed the lives of a dozen innocent people and irrevocably altered the lives of dozens more. My thoughts are with the victims and their families. Good luck. I don't wish to belittle this tragedy at all but I will be ignoring it for the sake of my arbitrary thoughts on a film I've been anxiously awaiting for four years. Apologies to any offended parties in advance. What follows is my typical voice.

Confession: I feel like crying. I do. The reason is two-fold: One, the cinematic trilogy that has meant more to me than any other (and that's saying a lot because I was a huge Star Wars dweeb growing up and I loved Lord of the Rings so much that I conned my parents out of ungrounding me for one night only to go see The Two Towers when it was released; I could have used that one-night-only deal to make out with my then-girlfriend, but I blew her off for Aragorn, Legolas, Frodo, and the gang... Moral of the story: it's no surprise it took me so long to get laid) has finally ended; two: the culmination of The Dark Knight Rises hit me pretty hard. I'm sad. But that's a good thing - it means that Christopher Nolan's holy triumvirate of Bat-films has succeeded in telling a story spanning seven years and almost nine hours of film. Nolan saw his vision for the character of Batman through to the end he had in mind, and it was mostly pretty darn spectacular.

Over the course of this essay/review/whatever, I'll be going off on a lot of tangents (would you expect anything less? We've already had at least one) and be addressing a lot of my own disparate thoughts on the nature of characters I love, and the importance of differentiating between different interpretations of those characters. So sit back, enjoy, and prepare yourself to be inundated with a shitload of verbiage in regards to The Dark Knight Rises. There are going to be a few spoilers, but not till much later. I'll be sure to post a spoiler warning before shit gets real intense.

And...

Here...

We....

Go!

I used the included Bruce Wayne character to simulate sex
with my Catwoman figure. I know, issues.

In typical fashion, let's start at the (Batman) beginning... all the way back to 1989 when Tim Burton unleashed Batman on the world. It's the first movie I remember seeing in theaters (I may have seen Masters of the Universe in theaters prior to this, but my memory may just be playing tricks on me. I can't be too certain, thus I identify Batman as my first cinematic experience as I remember everything about it clearly). The crummy theater it was playing at featured a cardboard cutout of the Bat-cave that you had to walk under to get to the theater. It was amazing. The film rocked my world. I remember getting it on video and the Daffy Duck Warner Bros. commercial before the flick started which involved Daffy proclaiming, "You're despicable" to somebody. I watched that movie a million times. I had Batman figures up the wazoo. The day my mom and older brother took me to Batman Returns, I got a special toy: Batman's Custom Coupe at Venture - you all remember Venture, right? It was a shitty wannabe-Target department store and it was right behind the theater I saw Batman Returns in. That day was the high-watermark in my life to that point and it stayed that way until I got my first HJ on New Year's Eve 1999. I loved Batman then and I do now. He's the one superhero who I love more than the rest. He's the man who has perfectly blended physical and mental preparation to its furthest limit in an attempt to fight crime. He's the embodiment of the perfected human, minus the whole, you know, obsessive compulsion in regards to his war against crime.


Of all the comics I have collected over the years (and let me tell you, brother, that's a lot of comics...), I treasure none more than my Batman comics. My favorite comic book arcs all surround the Bat. My favorite comic book writer's seminal work (one of his seminal works... the guy's a genius) was/is on Batman. I love his dedication. I love his work ethic. I love his villains. I love everything about Batman, and even as I type this, I know how fucked up that is to say about a fictional character. It's not normal. It's not even particularly safe to love a fictional character this much, I think. But it's the way it is, and I can't help my love for Batman. He's a part of me (if I were into quoting Katy Perry lyrics, this is where I'd do it), for better or worse, and he will be until I die, I think. And yes, I know that this is sad. I know.

I love Batman so
much I dress up
as characters
constantly.

So that's the base that you need to understand as you dig through my thoughts on The Dark Knight Rises. It's important to note that I don't perceive this flick like your average filmgoer does. I love Batman too much to process this flick like someone who saw Batman Begins and The Dark Knight and dubbed himself a Batman nut. I don't mean to try to put myself on a pedestal (my geekiness does not make me better than anyone), I just think it's important to understand that I don't necessarily view Batman films like the average person, so my view is going to be quite skewed in one direction or another. I make a lot of fun of the Twilight films - and they deserve a lot of that - but I'm not really one to judge them because I didn't grow up following the narrative of Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. I didn't ever fantasize about a shiny vampire making sweet, sweet love to my nether regions. I never stayed up past my bedtime to see what was going to happen to Bella next, ferociously turning page after page. As such, I don't get out of the Twilight series what true fans get out of it. Maybe I could enjoy it (I couldn't, but you get my hypothetical here), but not on their level. Again, this isn't to say that I can enjoy The Dark Knight Rises better than someone else, I just view it on a different level than most people do. 


It does piss me off sometimes that people claim to be Batman fans when they're not on my level, but that says more about me being a fucking nerd and protecting that than anything else. Just last night at work, several people were talking about going to the midnight showing and how fucking pumped they were, bro and I was pissed. Not because I couldn't go to it at midnight (I chose not to. I'm too old to stay up and engaged in anything that late), but because they were speaking as though they were real Batman fans like me when it was clear they weren't. Some kid mentioned that he knew a lot about Batman, then tried to educate me that there were three Robins in the comics. I got pissed because I know there have been five in established continuity (plus more in out-of-continuity tales like The Dark Knight Returns, and even now, I guess in the new DC Universe, Stephanie Brown wasn't ever Robin, but it still counts to me... sorry). I schooled him up but quick and some coworkers looked at me like I was an idiot savant. I was upset because Batman is a huge part of my life (bigger than he should be, I know; let's just assume for a while that it's not weird for the sake of this) and these people were trying to take a part of that from me and pretend like they liked Batman or understood him half as much as I did. I know this is pathetic, but it's how I feel. It's ridiculous. I can't help it. At least I recognize it. That counts for something, right?


So, with that established, how did I like The Dark Knight Rises? I liked it. A lot. I think it's, structurally speaking, a tighter film than The Dark Knight, even if it's simultaneously a little bit more expansive. It's more of an ensemble film than the previous Nolan films in the series, but it makes sense in the context of the trilogy. Nolan portrayed Batman as more than just a man; Nolan always seemed more interested in Batman as a symbol and not an actual individual. The thematic thrust of Batman Begins was that a single man was corruptible, but a symbol - Batman/fear - could be above that and inspire change. The thematic thrust of The Dark Knight was chaos in the form of the Joker and it steered away from the symbol idea a bit as Batman ended the film being a fugitive and villain in the eyes of Gothamites, but the notion of an entity (in this case, Harvey Dent) being a symbol for change remained.  It all comes full circle in The Dark Knight Rises, as the people of Gotham rely on Batman as a symbol and a literal savior, although the idea of pain and how it is used and channeled was a big part of the narrative arc. It's powerful stuff, even if it does kind of spit in the face of my own personal vision of Batman. If there is a thesis to Nolan's Batman films, I would say it's this: Symbols very powerful things, ya'll. That's it, in its essence. And that's great for this version of Batman.

Still the best villain. Ever.

But let's move back a step, here. You probably are curious how I feel about TDKR compared to TDK (and if you're not, the next few sentences are going to be a drag for you). The Dark Knight came along at a perfect time in my life. It hit in the middle of Grant Morrison's Batman epic in the comics and I was completely obsessed with Batman more than at any other time in my life. I was twenty-three when TDK was released, and if you know me personally, you know that me at twenty-three is about the same as a typical fifteen year-old. I'm that immature. The Bat-hysteria was compounded by the fact that Heath Ledger died shortly after filming concluded and it was his last performance. And that performance was, no hyperbole here, one of the best I've ever seen captured on film. It created a perfect storm. Not just for me, but for people throughout the world, and TDK became a cultural icon of film. It rewrote so much of what we believed comic book movies could be (serious, engaging, powerful, stirring... award winners) and it was a zeitgeist. Nothing could touch it. That's how I felt when I saw it the first time. And the second time. And the third time. I saw TDK in theaters three times within its first 24 hours of release. That's how crazy I was about the film. I ended up seeing it eleven times in total in theaters. That's sad. I think Christopher Nolan has grown as a filmmaker and storyteller since then (Inception is, by my calculation, the best film in almost ten years), so maybe TDKR is a better film overall, but it can't hold a candle to TDK because of the impact it had on me. So, while I loved TDKR, it's not the same. I can't compare it to TDK fairly for those reasons, but I did really, really, really like it.


For months now I've been training myself to not get too excited about the movie. I knew that I would succumb to ridiculous expectations if I allowed myself to get too excited so I did my due diligence in preparing myself. It was hard, but I think that it served me well, as the anticipation for the film only hit a fever pitch last week. It doesn't hurt that I've been busy with, y'know, real life for a while, but all the same, I kept myself in a good spot so as not to ruin the film in my head before I viewed it. I think that healthy expectations are paramount when seeing this for the first time, because so many people loved TDK for so many different reasons that TDKR was going to be difficult to match up to it. Nolan and Co. did a good job of not trying to recapture lightening in a bottle here, though, and the story is more closely tied to Batman Begins than it is to TDK, and that ultimately helps it, I think.

Christian Bale as Batman. Which is like saying
Jesus as God.

I know I've said a lot to this point without actually saying much of anything. I do that. It's an issue. But now I'm going to attempt to get into the film proper. It takes place eight years after TDK and Batman has retired. Thanks to the Harvey Dent Act, organized crime in Gotham City has been eradicated. Bruce Wayne has become a recluse and is hobbled by injuries sustained in the cape and cowl. He's a depressed man, a defeated man, a man without a purpose. He's basically waiting to die, wishing that he could die for his city as Batman. Then, suddenly, a masked fellow named Bane shows up and cuts Gotham City off from the rest of the world. He claims that Gotham City needs to, essentially, start over due to all the greed and thievery from the rich folks in Gotham. It's not a bad stance to have, as far as villains go. So Bruce Wayne finds himself galvanized and dons the cape and cowl again, reborn as a man with purpose.


I don't want to say much more than that for fear of spoiling any of the plot for anybody. This is a tricky tightrope to walk because I could easily spoil a lot of the movie by saying just one or two things. I won't do that. However, I'd like to take a minute (just sight right there) to discuss Bane, how he compares to villains in the other Nolan films, and his primary motivation. Straight off - Tom Hardy is fucking incendiary as Bane. His posture. His demeanor. His eyes. His voice, oh that voice! Hardy's voice as Bane is really something special. It's not like the Joker's; it's not particularly creepy and it doesn't offer the same variety in tone, but it is astounding in its own way. Bane speaks loudly and clearly (most of the time), and in spite of his brutish appearance, he sounds like an incredibly intelligent individual. Hardy's ability to alter his voice so drastically lends a lot of dramatic heft to the proceedings. I loved his voice. It might be my favorite part of the whole movie.

He's Gotham's Reckoning. And hungry.
I have no idea how he eats.

It's impossible not to compare any villain against Heath Ledger's Joker, and with that in mind, yeah, Bane leaves a bit to be desired. The Joker in TDK was simply perfect. The essence of the character, the symbiotic relationship he has with Batman, all of it was spot on. Bane in TDKR is a bit different from the comic books but he's still a great villain. He's a physical match for Batman, and he's not an idiot, either, so he poses a big threat. He's just not as electric as the Joker, nor does he pose the same type of threat because the Joker was chaos incarnate. The Joker is a direct response to Batman's existence, a maniac who is the yin to Batman's yang, and that's powerful shit. You can't top that type of relationship, and any villain coming after that is going to be less powerful. The Joker is different from most villains in two key ways: he knows what he's doing is evil and he embraces it (In recent comic book movies: Bane, Ra's Al Ghul, Magneto, Loki, the list goes on... they all operate under the assumption that they are the real heroes righting some cosmic wrong, or are doing what is necessary), and he loves Batman. He doesn't want to kill Batman; Batman is the Joker's favorite playmate. How awesome is that? If you answered in your head, "Totally super-awesome," give yourself a gold star, because that's the correct answer.

Bane, though, thinks he's a good guy, doing something that needs to be done. While the Joker is an agent of chaos, Bane is more measured and meticulous. In a way, I'm glad that Nolan opted to take on such a different villain because anyone remotely like the Joker would have fallen flat. Other than the Joker, I'd say that Bane is one of the best villains in a comic book movie we've ever gotten; Hardy is just a beast, a physical animal with a healthy dose of intellect and philosophical motivation to boot. He's an electric motherfucker in the movie, he's just not Heath Ledger's Joker, and that's not a slight at all. But it does need to be said.

The other big character in the movie that most people were curious about was Selina Kyle/Catwoman. Anne Hathaway is a fine actress, a beautiful person with a lot of talent, and she is one of the best things about the film. When people heard about Hathaway being cast as Selina Kyle, there was a small outrage on the internet - isn't there always? - but she is a sultry, strong, sexy, capable individual. I thought from the start that she'd be great as Catwoman because she's everything Catwoman is in the comics. She's an interesting character, one who can be both good and bad, someone who is more concerned about her own survival than anything else. Or is she? The film does a great job of having her straddle the line between good and evil, and Hathaway is more than up to the task of ensuring she remains an engaging character throughout. The other newcomer as far as characters are concerned is John Blake, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He's an honest to goodness cop, someone who is inspired by Batman. He's a neat character and fits in well with the story, which is amazing considering just how many characters we must follow in this film.

Okay, now here is where the people who haven't seen the movie yet need to get off the train. Seriously, just go. It's gonna get fucking spoilerific in a minute here. Leave now if you haven't seen it, or you'll be disappointed. This is your last chance. Gone? Good. If you're still here - congrats on watching the movie.

This is so awesome.

I'm pretty pissed off that Christopher Nolan really screwed the pooch on the idea that only Bruce Wayne can be Batman. I'm also kind of upset that he really missed the boat almost entirely on the notion that Bruce Wayne doesn't want to be anything other than Batman. Bruce Wayne doesn't care about his own happiness, he just cares about being Batman and protecting his city. This was a lot more forgivable in TDK because it was essentially a year-two story, right at the beginning of Batman's young career and he wanted something more. But in the comics, Bruce Wayne's unwillingness to move beyond Batman is a touchstone of the character. He is Batman, and he likes it that way. He's not interested in being Batman and smiling and finding happiness. His innocence and happiness was entirely stolen from him the night he watched his parents gunned down. He's evolved beyond that; he's now a creature of the night, he is vengeance. He is, simply, Batman. But Nolan has created a Bruce Wayne (still capably portrayed by Christian "I'm the Best Actor of My Generation" Bale) who ends his story arc as a man living happily with Selina Kyle in Italy. What? This isn't right. It's wrong. It made me mad that Bruce Wayne moved beyond Batman and left the rookie cop Blake to pick up the mantle. That really isn't an appropriate characterization of Batman as I know him.

But this is where it gets tricky, because this Batman isn't the comic book Batman. He's different, and I can't really let my own biases interfere with the story Nolan wanted to tell (and he told it so well). It's difficult sometimes as a fan to differentiate between so many different versions of popular characters, especially when that character is an all-time favorite. So I had to step back and breathe a little to understand that this Batman isn't the same as the one I read every month in the comics. He's similar, but not a carbon-copy. Even still, it was a bitter pill to swallow because the characterization of Bruce Wayne was so fucking spot on in the previous two entries that it seemed like a big departure immediately, until, upon further evaluation, I recognized that Nolan was telling his own story about Bruce Wayne and not the one we see in comics all the time.

Grant Morrison addressed the idea of a Gotham City that no longer truly needs Batman anymore a few years back. Batman had eradicated crime in Gotham and he had nothing to do. Alfred had to basically teach him how to be a human again, and when that happened... well, he found out that there would always need to be a Batman. There was no escape from it. And you know what happened after that? Batman beat the devil. Yeah, the fucking devil. And The Joker. That's right. So I guess I'm just very attracted to the idea that there always needs to be Batman, and the hero that he is doesn't gripe about it; as a matter of fact, he embraces it.

But, again, Nolan's Batman isn't that Batman. He's a guy with a finite story, and the story that was told was good. I just had a difficult time processing it initially. And I don't really like the idea of someone other than Bruce Wayne being Batman. It just seems sacrilegious based on all the hard work Bruce Wayne endured to become the perfect human being vigilantly watching over his city.

"We should breed."
"I don't think the world could handle our children."
"Too awesome and attractive?"
"Yep."

The other big gripe I had with the movie is that Alfred left Bruce. Bullshit, man. Alfred would never leave Bruce. Never. That's all I have to say about that. Moving on.


There's a healthy debate online already in regards to whether or not Bruce Wayne died saving Gotham City, due to the fact that Alfred saw him in Florence at the end of the movie. As Nolan is wont to do, he likes to play tricks on his audience and let us put the puzzle pieces together. Well, I think Bruce survived and is now having sex with Selina Kyle all over continental Europe. Why? Because it is revealed that he fixed the autopilot on the Bat before flying the huge bomb away from Gotham. And the second part, the big one, is that when Alfred saw Bruce in Florence at the end, Bruce was with Selina Kyle. If it was a dream or his imagination, I don't believe Selina Kyle would have been there, because Alfred didn't know that Bruce and her had a thing developing. So, yeah. Bruce lived. And he was happy as shit with Selina Kyle. That's what I believe, so feel free to debate with that.

And this is where I sign off. I said a lot without saying a whole lot, didn't I? Here's the thing, though, and this is all you really, truly need to know: I loved The Dark Knight Rises. There were parts of it that felt wrong or off to me, but I adjusted and recognized why those parts were included. And this is, easily, the best cinematic Batman we've ever had. Ten years ago, there's no way this would have been expected, so enjoy this for what it is. A great movie trilogy that told a self-contained story about Batman and his city. Is this a better movie than the Avengers? Yeah, I think so. Did I enjoy watching it more than Avengers? I don't know; they're two different types of films and were processed differently by my brain. I loved both of them. And you know what? To be able to say that we've had a summer that included both of those movies is pretty damn awesome. It's a good time to be a dork.