Good Cop, Bat Cop

Batman, as re-imagined by director Christopher Nolan, is an angry detective with a vengeance, asserting his authority in Gotham City — as well as American cinema — with a scowling I’m-gonna-scare-the-crap-outta-you voice. The Dark Knight, Nolan’s follow-up to Batman Begins, is being hailed by fans and critics alike as gothic perfection. The film, indeed, is something to behold; Nolan stretches the boundaries of the comic book genre with complex characters, provocative ideas and deep, philosophical moralizing. But the film is a joyless experience, a two and a half hour funeral.

The only delight is Batman’s iconic nemesis, the Joker. As incarnated by Heath Ledger, he’s a depraved, rebel punk, the movie’s demented heart and soul, and Ledger plays the part with breathtaking, fiendish glee. The film deflates every time he leaves the screen. The rest of the movie feels as though it were directed in a tightly sealed container. Nolan, who has proven to be gifted at concocting dreary narratives (see Insomnia, The Prestige), seems to have no sense of humor.

Tim Burton, the highly imaginative film director whose movies are famous for their relentlessly cheerful morbidity, paved the way for the artful gloom of comic book adaptations like The Dark Knight. His 1989 Gotham was a metropolis of tragic jest, and full of mysterious grandeur. Nolan’s version feels like a perpetual rainy day. Which, of course, is exactly the point. Nolan’s Batman, unlike Burton’s, has very little to do with fantasy; in his Gotham, there is no such thing as fantasy — there is only reality. Reality with a capital R. What serves as the “Bat Cave” in The Dark Knight, for example, is the very large, brightly lit basement of a high-rise building.

Why so serious, Mr. Nolan? Yes, we all know that Bruce Wayne is dealing with some sort of identity crisis, but isn’t Batman allowed to have some fun? What is certainly appealing about Nolan’s interpretation is that it makes us forget that Joel Schumacher’s embarrassing atrocities, Batman Forever and Batman & Robin, ever existed. But though we chastise Schumacher for turning the franchise into a veritable homoerotic farce, you gotta admit, the guy knows how to party.

The Dark Knight is a skillfully crafted crime drama. It is a fascinating, but not exhilarating, film. Though it captures the stylish bleakness of Frank Miller’s graphic novels, it never quite summons Miller’s devilish joy in plunging Batman into a hellish Gotham. Nolan is too ponderous, too concerned with grounding his films in “reality,” to give us anything resembling a great time. His Batman, however, will no doubt be considered the definitive one. And why not? The director knows how to tell a story. But I still have hope that someday the real Batman will swoop in and prove that this Dark Knight is nothing more than a well-disguised imposter.

Grade: B-