There’s not much that I can add to the wealth of reviews of The Dark Knight that you won’t have read or probably aren’t aware of already. It is awesome. Heath Ledger is a shoo-in at least for the MTV Movie Award for Best Villain (Best Supporting Oscar at this very early stage of the game is a punchy call), Christian Bale picks up where Batman Begins left off and gives Ledger a sound run for his money…and the rest of the cast weigh in with plucky and earnest performances. Casting-wise, there really are no duds. Which is quite an achievement, given that anything shy of top-notch acting would stand out like a shit-stain on a shirt-tail in this prolific ensemble. The only noticeable absentee is Alec Baldwin as “Doesn’t Really Matter”, because Alec Baldwin is, after all, the best actor in the world.
So it’s five boring stars from the Salami. Yawn.
By the way, if you didn’t see it at the Imax, you seriously missed out. Big time.
The Dark Knight is arguably more of an action flick than a superhero movie in the conventional sense. The decision to rely predominantly on traditional, grandiose special and technical effects in lieu of computer-rendered frosting lends the movie a gritty authenticity which more than sets the film aside from the current “superhero” glut, particularly in light of the fact that none of the characters possess any superpowers whatsoever.
To the casual cinemagoer, this latest Batman incarnation is a slick Die Hard or Bourne Identity. At its most superficial, it remains an intelligent guns, gadgets and fistycuffs rollercoaster that rivals any James Bond flick in stunt appeal and effects artistry. But get under the skin a little and you’ll discover the movie’s real muscle, with which director Christopher Nolan is not afraid to slap his audience across the chops.
Surprisingly enough, the moral duality of vigilantism and the legal dilemma which any superhero unavoidably presents has been consistently overlooked in practically every superhero movie made until now. Superheroes, by placing themselves above the law, are criminals. Plain and simple (although Robert Mugabe in a codpiece with a dishcloth around his neck would equally fit the bill). And, if I can take any significant issue with The Dark Knight, it’s that Nolan throws this prior oversight around like an 18-wheeler.
Here’s the spoiler alert.
Aaron Eckhart as District Attorney Harvey Dent – and not the Joker – is Batman’s true foil (that he is persistently referred to as Gotham’s “White Knight” is so blatant a contrast that if you didn’t pick it up during the movie, I suggest you eat your own head). Harvey represents the rule of law, whereas Batman respects no law bar Moses’ first commandment – that’s “Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbours Wife”. Well, actually its the murder one, but Bruce Wayne and Harvey’s squeeze Rachel Dawes seem quite happy to play tonsil hockey with nauseating disregard for her boyfriend’s feelings. What the fuck was that all about? Randy bitch. She deserved what she got!
Anyways. Perhaps the adulterous theme feeds the nihilistic tone of the movie. Well, it definitely does, but I’m hoping that bit’s not intentional. Just because you have a car that turns into a bike-thing, a $200 million kevlar bondage suit, a helicopter and a nice haircut doesn’t give you the right to stick your dick wherever the fuck you want, Batman!
Maybe it does.
Sidetracked again. Yes. Harvey = rule of law; Batman = rule of fist. Both produce results, but both find their convictions tested to extremes. Ultimately (and this is where the nihilism bit really kicks in), it’s Harvey who caves and relinquishes control, sacrificing free-will for fate. Batman, whose actions cannot be justified by the police and who is destined to remain the subject of an “ongoing investigation”, prevails and lives to spread his loving message of “fuck the law – they don’t have sweet wheels and guyliner like mine.” Throughout, the Joker provides the test constant, the disinterested fulcrum between the Way of the Bat and the Way of the Other Guy. He exists entirely outside of morality and as such serves as the window through which the audience observes Nolan explore his diametrical discourse. I guess the result has to be a bit bleak, otherwise The Dark Knight would have been a daft title.
What I’m trying to say is that Batman is George Bush and the Joker is Osama Bin Laden.
Well, that’s not actually my point, but the film raises some interesting real-world analogies. Thing is this: The Dark Knight gets a bit heavy-handed on the lecture front. Otherwise I loved every second of it, apart from the following irritations:
* Batman’s growl – a little too husky perhaps? I found myself closing my eyes and touching my special bits whenever he spoke.
* Batman’s eye make-up – um, why exactly? Surely the mask is enough? It looks a bit like shoe polish, but shoe polish is a bitch to get off. Maybe he uses an Artline. I don’t know.
* The whole sonar cellphone thing – stupid, stupid, stupid and pointless. Period. It made me feel seasick.
* The Bruce Wayne / Rachel Dawes hook-up. Nuh-uh. Batman’s chick shouldn’t be a two-faced whore (I’ll point out the pun here because it’s fucking genius).
* The Batman mask (sorry, cowl) – the mouth area still looks like it was cut out by his mom.
* Two-Face – alright, he’s probably not dead, but all he did was threaten to kill one little boy. Big fucking deal. Shit, I reckon I’m more qualified to be a nemesis – I threatened to strangle three noisy old ladies on the tube this morning. They looked quite buff, so I kept it down, but they were cruising for a bruising.
That’s it. Wicked movie, will buy for DVD collection. Bring on the next one!
(Rumours already pitch Johnny Depp as the Riddler, Phillip Seymour Hoffman as the Penguin, Maggie Gyllehaal or Angelina Jolie as Catwoman and Tom Cruise as a pile of turd.)