Though flawed, "Batman Begins" is the best Batman film since the 1989 Tim Burton blockbuster. What fascinates me about the series is how many different possible interpretations there are. The Schumacher films seemed an attempt to recapture the campy innocence of the 1960s television show. Burton seemed more interested in the mythic undertones of the original comic strip.
Christopher Nolan, the director of "Batman Begins," has yet a different approach. He treats the story almost as if it weren't based on a comic strip at all, as if it were a straightforward thriller. The villains are presented in such a low-key manner that I practically forgot they were traditional comic book villains. There are no evil cackles in this world. The film is, indeed, a lot less action-oriented than most superhero films. The action scenes, which occur mostly toward the end, are rather bland and unmemorable. There simply aren't that many intense physical fights, because this version of the Batman character relies less on physical force than on psyching his enemies out.
The movie's best scenes are the early ones, where Bruce Wayne learns to control his own fear and use it to defeat his enemies. I like how the film explores the moral dilemmas underlying vigilantism, something none of the other Batman films even tried to do. They just took for granted that Batman's lifestyle was heroic. Here, learning how Bruce Wayne developed his secret persona, we realize that the issue is not so simple. He's shown as a young criminal recruited by a sinister vigilante organization that teaches him most of his fighting skills, but he eventually parts ways with them over their ruthless approach to justice.
The movie handles these themes very well at first. As I recall, the 1989 film implied that the Joker was the mugger who killed Wayne's parents. That movie then became a story of revenge, a common theme in fantasies. "Batman Begins" repudiates this idea and draws a distinction between revenge and justice, presenting the mugger as a desperate individual whose crime, though unforgivable, pales in comparison to those of the thugs running Gotham City.
Unfortunately, the later parts of the film shortchange these complex ideas as the story degenerates into a conventional struggle against villains who believe the end justifies the means. It might have been more interesting if Wayne would have faced some difficult moral choice. The movie teases us with gray areas but ultimately bows to the conventions of the genre.
The casting is, for the most part, superb. I particularly liked Michael Caine in the role of Alfred, and it was also fun seeing Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe, Morgan Freeman, and Gary Oldman in supporting roles. Still, the overall impact of these fine actors was not as strong as I would have expected, maybe because the characters they play aren't drawn as vividly as they could have been. As for Christian Bale, I consider him the best actor ever to play Batman, and I thought his presence would for sure make this film a winner. But I went away from the film uncertain of how I thought of his performance. He adopts a gruff, monosyllabic, Clint Eastwood sort of manner that is probably not recommended unless you actually are Clint Eastwood.
Among the newcomers, the most intriguing is Cillian Murphy, whose boyish looks and slight frame (he's actually shorter than Katie Holmes) kept me from realizing he was one of the main villains. Because his incarnation as the Scarecrow was presented as simply a tool he used to disorient his victims, I didn't even think of it as a dual identity. It wasn't until after I finished watching the film that I realized he was a traditional comic book villain. He had more the aura of an ominous henchman.
The movie's greatest flaw is Wayne's romance with the Katie Holmes character. There isn't much chemistry between the two, and the subplot feels tacked on. The Superman and Spider-Man movies worked in part because they convincingly established a conflict between the main character's superpowers and his ability to maintain a romantic relationship. While I'm not saying that the Batman movie had to repeat this formula, there was a notable lack of urgency in the romantic subplot. She's supposed to be a childhood friend, and the main thing standing between their romance is his seven-year disappearance when he was presumed dead. As soon as he returns, the film handles their relationship with a considerable lack of depth.
Despite the flaws, as origin stories go "Batman Begins" is far superior to the massively over-hyped Star Wars prequels. The movie's explanation of how Batman became Batman is well-done, and it's fun to see a version of the character who's more vulnerable than the one we're used to. It's only toward the end that the movie turns more conventional, and since the special effects are so under-emphasized, the ending fails to strike a chord at any level. But it's an impressive effort, and I'm hoping that the next film will rise above this one in the same way that "Spider-Man 2" did for its halfway decent but flawed predecessor.
Christopher Nolan, the director of "Batman Begins," has yet a different approach. He treats the story almost as if it weren't based on a comic strip at all, as if it were a straightforward thriller. The villains are presented in such a low-key manner that I practically forgot they were traditional comic book villains. There are no evil cackles in this world. The film is, indeed, a lot less action-oriented than most superhero films. The action scenes, which occur mostly toward the end, are rather bland and unmemorable. There simply aren't that many intense physical fights, because this version of the Batman character relies less on physical force than on psyching his enemies out.
The movie's best scenes are the early ones, where Bruce Wayne learns to control his own fear and use it to defeat his enemies. I like how the film explores the moral dilemmas underlying vigilantism, something none of the other Batman films even tried to do. They just took for granted that Batman's lifestyle was heroic. Here, learning how Bruce Wayne developed his secret persona, we realize that the issue is not so simple. He's shown as a young criminal recruited by a sinister vigilante organization that teaches him most of his fighting skills, but he eventually parts ways with them over their ruthless approach to justice.
The movie handles these themes very well at first. As I recall, the 1989 film implied that the Joker was the mugger who killed Wayne's parents. That movie then became a story of revenge, a common theme in fantasies. "Batman Begins" repudiates this idea and draws a distinction between revenge and justice, presenting the mugger as a desperate individual whose crime, though unforgivable, pales in comparison to those of the thugs running Gotham City.
Unfortunately, the later parts of the film shortchange these complex ideas as the story degenerates into a conventional struggle against villains who believe the end justifies the means. It might have been more interesting if Wayne would have faced some difficult moral choice. The movie teases us with gray areas but ultimately bows to the conventions of the genre.
The casting is, for the most part, superb. I particularly liked Michael Caine in the role of Alfred, and it was also fun seeing Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe, Morgan Freeman, and Gary Oldman in supporting roles. Still, the overall impact of these fine actors was not as strong as I would have expected, maybe because the characters they play aren't drawn as vividly as they could have been. As for Christian Bale, I consider him the best actor ever to play Batman, and I thought his presence would for sure make this film a winner. But I went away from the film uncertain of how I thought of his performance. He adopts a gruff, monosyllabic, Clint Eastwood sort of manner that is probably not recommended unless you actually are Clint Eastwood.
Among the newcomers, the most intriguing is Cillian Murphy, whose boyish looks and slight frame (he's actually shorter than Katie Holmes) kept me from realizing he was one of the main villains. Because his incarnation as the Scarecrow was presented as simply a tool he used to disorient his victims, I didn't even think of it as a dual identity. It wasn't until after I finished watching the film that I realized he was a traditional comic book villain. He had more the aura of an ominous henchman.
The movie's greatest flaw is Wayne's romance with the Katie Holmes character. There isn't much chemistry between the two, and the subplot feels tacked on. The Superman and Spider-Man movies worked in part because they convincingly established a conflict between the main character's superpowers and his ability to maintain a romantic relationship. While I'm not saying that the Batman movie had to repeat this formula, there was a notable lack of urgency in the romantic subplot. She's supposed to be a childhood friend, and the main thing standing between their romance is his seven-year disappearance when he was presumed dead. As soon as he returns, the film handles their relationship with a considerable lack of depth.
Despite the flaws, as origin stories go "Batman Begins" is far superior to the massively over-hyped Star Wars prequels. The movie's explanation of how Batman became Batman is well-done, and it's fun to see a version of the character who's more vulnerable than the one we're used to. It's only toward the end that the movie turns more conventional, and since the special effects are so under-emphasized, the ending fails to strike a chord at any level. But it's an impressive effort, and I'm hoping that the next film will rise above this one in the same way that "Spider-Man 2" did for its halfway decent but flawed predecessor.