This third reboot of the stand-alone Batman series sees Robert Pattinson don the cape and cowl as he is called into action in the wake of a spate of high-profile murders of Gotham City's politicians. Each murder is orchestrated as a punishment to the victim but it is also designed to "unmask" the deeper corruption which has been taking place within the city, a corruption which may reach further and deeper than Gotham City's residents could ever have suspected.
Batman is intent upon apprehending the perpetrator, a man calling himself The Riddler (played by Paul Dano), but he also wishes to see exactly where this trail of corruption will lead. As a result, he is drawn deep into Gotham City's crime world where Carmine Falcone (played by John Turturro) reigns in the shadows. In his quest, Batman is both aided and diverted by a young woman named Selina Kyle (played by Zoe Kravitz), who has an ambiguous relationship with Carmine and her own reasons for wishing to expose him. The only person Batman can unreservedly trust is Lt. James Gordon (played by Jeffrey Wright), in a world mired in sleaze and dishonesty, Gordon is one of the few whose hands remain clean.
After watching the intense denouement of The Dark Knight Rises, the last thing I felt cinema required was a return to Gotham City. After all, hadn't we seen it all when it came to Batman? We'd had the pantomime parody of Adam West's portrayal. We'd had the fantastical gothic horror of Burton's world. We'd had the blockbuster goofiness of Joel Schumacher. And, finally, we'd had the intense, epic spectacle of Christopher Nolan's Batman series. What more could there be to do? Well, to his great credit, Matt Reeves has improbably managed to tread new ground by creating a film which is part art-house, part neo-noir detective story and part big-budget action film. It is an immersive and satisfying blend as it turns out.
The aspect that most separates The Batman from previous incarnations is how low-key it is. Gone is Hans Zimmer's intense musical flourishes and Wally Pfizter's vast, urban landscapes and in comes a downbeat, sinister soundtrack and a film shot in almost constant darkness. In this film, Batman exists amongst the shadows and he spends just as much time hidden under a motorcycle helmet as he does dressed as the Bat. Music ranging from Schubert to Nirvana helps to set the sombre tone of the film. Each character also has their own musical theme, ranging from sinister to intoxicating and helping to establish a particular mood around each of the protagonists.
On the topic of characters, the casting in this film is exceptional. Pattinson plays the Batman scenes effectively and, in portraying a psychologically wounded Bruce Wayne, draws on the shades of potential demonstrated by Michael Keaton's version of the character. In this film, Wayne is a reclusive misfit incapable of establishing meaningful relationships his incarnation as Batman, therefore, makes some sort of sense. Alongside this, Wright, Kravitz, Dano, an unrecognisable Farrell along with Andy Serkis (as Alfred Penniworth) each do wonders with the material they are given. Reeves makes the wise choice of selecting great character actors to surround Batman. Whereas in the Nolan films world-famous actors, such as Michael Caine, Liam Neeson and Morgan Freeman, essentially played versions of themselves, the actors here genuinely immerse themselves in their roles and create unique screen presences. I wish to reserve particular praise, however, for a resurgent John Turturro, who is just as unrecognisable as Farrell in his role but not because of prosthetics, rather due to his uncharacteristically menacing, Machiavellian energy. Playing very much against type in comparison to his classic '90s indie roles, Turturro's Carmine Falcone is the perfectly understated villain that this subtler addition to the Batman canon requires.
Another way in which this film differentiates itself is in the way that it focuses on story depth as opposed to the extreme showiness/improbability of previous Batman plots. The effect of this is that individual arcs are able to be carefully and convincingly linked into an overall narrative structure. That's not to say that there aren't moments in which the plot strays beyond the realms of plausibility, and that space isn't found for car chases, fight scenes, shoot-outs and all the other razzmatazz expected from a superhero blockbuster, but those moments are surprising rare in what is often a restrained and intelligent piece of story-telling. Case in point, we do not see the Batmobile nor do we see Batman use any of his traditional flying gadgets until over a third of the way through the movie.
The art direction is another area in which this film is a unique addition to the superhero genre. There is a genuine attempt by Reeves to put us into Batman's world and this is achieved via creative camera set-ups including cameras directly attached to heads and cars to provide a more intimate experience of the inner-world of the film's protagonists. One scene shot in darkness with intermittent gunfire is an example of a particularly memorable visual effect which also helps to heighten the intimacy of the film's atmosphere.
At three-hours long, the film does lag slightly in terms of pacing. This is partly caused by the decision to tag a high-spectacle ending onto the slow-burn detective action which had taken place before. There is a moment in the film when the main mysteries seem to have been uncovered and the story appears to be drawing to a close but then an addendum to the final act appears, which does feel somewhat out-of-step with the film's previous mood. Nonetheless, the final act does help to solidify the film's principal themes regarding the limitations of vengeance and the need to break down the barriers society has created between the privileged and the dispensable.
Focusing on that last point, The Batman probably treads its most important ground by drawing on the stark social themes apparent in the film Joker. Just as Joker tapped into genuine contemporary societal concerns, The Batman turns an eye to these too. It questions a society which is fueled on corruption and that does not value its citizens equally. This film is much more subtle than Joker in the way that it conveys its message but it provides a genuine platform for Batman to become something deeper than pure spectacle. A Batman movie, of course, will not, and no doubt should not, change society, but this film shows that a superhero movie can encapsulate a narrative and a tone which feels eerily relevant.
A splendid attention to the Batman canon then, Reeve's Batman does not contain the mesmeric and spectacular brilliance of Nolan's Batman series but its genius is in the fact that it doesn't even try to. Quite the opposite in fact, Reeves has rather impressively found a way to yet again reinvent the Batman universe and he does so with a compelling, engrossing and, at times, surprisingly relatable effort.
Batman is intent upon apprehending the perpetrator, a man calling himself The Riddler (played by Paul Dano), but he also wishes to see exactly where this trail of corruption will lead. As a result, he is drawn deep into Gotham City's crime world where Carmine Falcone (played by John Turturro) reigns in the shadows. In his quest, Batman is both aided and diverted by a young woman named Selina Kyle (played by Zoe Kravitz), who has an ambiguous relationship with Carmine and her own reasons for wishing to expose him. The only person Batman can unreservedly trust is Lt. James Gordon (played by Jeffrey Wright), in a world mired in sleaze and dishonesty, Gordon is one of the few whose hands remain clean.
After watching the intense denouement of The Dark Knight Rises, the last thing I felt cinema required was a return to Gotham City. After all, hadn't we seen it all when it came to Batman? We'd had the pantomime parody of Adam West's portrayal. We'd had the fantastical gothic horror of Burton's world. We'd had the blockbuster goofiness of Joel Schumacher. And, finally, we'd had the intense, epic spectacle of Christopher Nolan's Batman series. What more could there be to do? Well, to his great credit, Matt Reeves has improbably managed to tread new ground by creating a film which is part art-house, part neo-noir detective story and part big-budget action film. It is an immersive and satisfying blend as it turns out.
The aspect that most separates The Batman from previous incarnations is how low-key it is. Gone is Hans Zimmer's intense musical flourishes and Wally Pfizter's vast, urban landscapes and in comes a downbeat, sinister soundtrack and a film shot in almost constant darkness. In this film, Batman exists amongst the shadows and he spends just as much time hidden under a motorcycle helmet as he does dressed as the Bat. Music ranging from Schubert to Nirvana helps to set the sombre tone of the film. Each character also has their own musical theme, ranging from sinister to intoxicating and helping to establish a particular mood around each of the protagonists.
On the topic of characters, the casting in this film is exceptional. Pattinson plays the Batman scenes effectively and, in portraying a psychologically wounded Bruce Wayne, draws on the shades of potential demonstrated by Michael Keaton's version of the character. In this film, Wayne is a reclusive misfit incapable of establishing meaningful relationships his incarnation as Batman, therefore, makes some sort of sense. Alongside this, Wright, Kravitz, Dano, an unrecognisable Farrell along with Andy Serkis (as Alfred Penniworth) each do wonders with the material they are given. Reeves makes the wise choice of selecting great character actors to surround Batman. Whereas in the Nolan films world-famous actors, such as Michael Caine, Liam Neeson and Morgan Freeman, essentially played versions of themselves, the actors here genuinely immerse themselves in their roles and create unique screen presences. I wish to reserve particular praise, however, for a resurgent John Turturro, who is just as unrecognisable as Farrell in his role but not because of prosthetics, rather due to his uncharacteristically menacing, Machiavellian energy. Playing very much against type in comparison to his classic '90s indie roles, Turturro's Carmine Falcone is the perfectly understated villain that this subtler addition to the Batman canon requires.
Another way in which this film differentiates itself is in the way that it focuses on story depth as opposed to the extreme showiness/improbability of previous Batman plots. The effect of this is that individual arcs are able to be carefully and convincingly linked into an overall narrative structure. That's not to say that there aren't moments in which the plot strays beyond the realms of plausibility, and that space isn't found for car chases, fight scenes, shoot-outs and all the other razzmatazz expected from a superhero blockbuster, but those moments are surprising rare in what is often a restrained and intelligent piece of story-telling. Case in point, we do not see the Batmobile nor do we see Batman use any of his traditional flying gadgets until over a third of the way through the movie.
The art direction is another area in which this film is a unique addition to the superhero genre. There is a genuine attempt by Reeves to put us into Batman's world and this is achieved via creative camera set-ups including cameras directly attached to heads and cars to provide a more intimate experience of the inner-world of the film's protagonists. One scene shot in darkness with intermittent gunfire is an example of a particularly memorable visual effect which also helps to heighten the intimacy of the film's atmosphere.
At three-hours long, the film does lag slightly in terms of pacing. This is partly caused by the decision to tag a high-spectacle ending onto the slow-burn detective action which had taken place before. There is a moment in the film when the main mysteries seem to have been uncovered and the story appears to be drawing to a close but then an addendum to the final act appears, which does feel somewhat out-of-step with the film's previous mood. Nonetheless, the final act does help to solidify the film's principal themes regarding the limitations of vengeance and the need to break down the barriers society has created between the privileged and the dispensable.
Focusing on that last point, The Batman probably treads its most important ground by drawing on the stark social themes apparent in the film Joker. Just as Joker tapped into genuine contemporary societal concerns, The Batman turns an eye to these too. It questions a society which is fueled on corruption and that does not value its citizens equally. This film is much more subtle than Joker in the way that it conveys its message but it provides a genuine platform for Batman to become something deeper than pure spectacle. A Batman movie, of course, will not, and no doubt should not, change society, but this film shows that a superhero movie can encapsulate a narrative and a tone which feels eerily relevant.
A splendid attention to the Batman canon then, Reeve's Batman does not contain the mesmeric and spectacular brilliance of Nolan's Batman series but its genius is in the fact that it doesn't even try to. Quite the opposite in fact, Reeves has rather impressively found a way to yet again reinvent the Batman universe and he does so with a compelling, engrossing and, at times, surprisingly relatable effort.