Batman Begins: Without and Within
Batman Begins might be drowned out by the noise of this summer’s overproduced cookie-cutter blockbusters, but I don’t think it cares. Compared to the previous four Batman films, this one is less flashy, more serious, more focused, more introspective, and more philosophical. It is how Batman is supposed to be. It is the truest, most developed and most complete Batman movie, period.
Christopher Nolan, who also directed Memento, infused the same attitude into Batman Begins. I don’t know how else to describe it, but the movie feels real. It’s the difference between hearing a movie gunshot and a real gunshot. And just like in the real world, when you get hit, it hurts like hell.
The movie dissects the human condition more than it flaunts design. It focuses on keeping the story flowing instead of lingering on wow. It isn’t as concerned with how the costumes look, or how the gadgets actually work, or what other tricks the batmobile is capable of. There is a greater agenda, which is creating solid characters to drive a solid plot.
No Heroics
“It is not enough to be a man. You have to become an idea, a terrible thought. A wraith.”
When the wraith, this Batman, destroys its prey, it is horrific. Instead of fighting in the spotlight, the wraith stalks the target in darkness, confuses the target, engages the target before the target can react, kills the target before the target knows what killed it. It is a cold and empty way to die. As one prey dies, the other prey hear the dying and become more fearful. And this makes the killing easier.
Just as a cop doesn’t rejoice when he shoots a criminal, there’s no celebration when the wraith conquers a villain. There is no parade, no adulation from the crowd. It is simply an act of disposing evil.
Posturing is a Four-Letter Word
The fighting suit is painted flat black so it becomes nearly invisible at night. It is made for hiding, reconnaissance, and killing, not posing. After watching the movie, I realized that I didn’t even know what the batsuit looked like. I didn’t really care.
The batarang is a simple piece of raw steel that was shaped on a metal grinder. If you got hit with it, you would probably need a tetanus shot.
The batcave is just that, a cave filled with bats. It is dark and cold and wet and inhospitable to sane minds.
The batmobile is a Lamborghini built like a linebacker. Like the movie, it doesn’t care about posturing or finessing its way around traffic. When in doubt, it punches its way through.
The mob boss, Falcone, is a gray-haired guy in a double-breasted gray suit. There is nothing special about the way he looks. His terror lies in his ability to put a mental chokehold on a city, to make the powerful and rich be so afraid that they are paralyzed into inaction.
The Scarecrow’s costume is nothing but a rag mask. But how each victim’s mind reacts to this mask is a different story.
The batsignal is ambiguous in shape because clouds exist.
And what do you give a billionaire on his birthday? A moment from his childhood.
A Batman for Grownups
This movie is rated PG-13. It is not a cartoon. It is not Tim Burton being colorful with the Joker and the Penguin. It is not George Clooney smirking and ambiguously twitching his head. This movie is made for adults who crave substance, a good script, and enough multi-layered ideas so that we can work our minds while being entertained. The batsuit does not have nipples.
There are no songs by a current pop star or hip-hop band that play when the end credits are rolling. The soundtrack is classical, non-intrusive, becoming a part of the movie’s overall sound. It accentuates the mood, puts exclamation points on the fight sequences. The soundtrack is so pure that each movement is named after a species of bats. No element of this movie is self-serving. Each scene ends before it can linger and its effect is diluted.
Beyond One Man, A City
Christian Bale, the movie’s Bruce Wayne, can act. He can fight too, but more importantly, he can act. So can Liam Neeson, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman, even Katie Holmes. There are no stars in this movie, just good characters contributing to a good story. They are each given substantial words to say, words good enough to remember after the movie is long over. They say them like real people would, like we would during a day’s conversation.
They say simple things like, “Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.” and “Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better.”
Except for Bruce Wayne, these are everyday people who go to their everyday jobs, drive their used cars, take out the trash at night, have dinner with their families, and lock their doors and windows before going to sleep, because as much as they are hopeful, they are also afraid. They see their city suffering, not as much from a lack of resources but more from a lack of social conscience, from apathy. They see an improper distribution of wealth and attention. They see their city being devoured by the larger machine, controlled by a handful of powerful, influential men. They see their city giving up, giving into less noble ways of living.
“Crime thrives on the indulgences of society…”
What happens when a society falls under the weight of its own success and opulence, when it compromises justice for convenience, when it stops paying attention to its less fortunate citizens, when it loses sight of its own balance?
An idea arrives.