Enough time has passed, I believe, that a more
extensive and more specific look may be taken at Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises. In the tradition of 2008’s “Epic Review” of The Dark Knight, I’ll be discussing more
in depth what I enjoyed about the film, which will inevitably entail spoilers
of both general plotlines and specific dialogue which I’ll invoke. The goal is, I hope, to provide a more
detailed assessment of the film beyond my earlier review which gushed over the
technical aspects of the film but could only allude to the story and its effect
on me. For safety’s sake, the bulk of the
review can be found after the jump; those reading this review from anywhere
other than the front page will be advised that spoilers begin below the first
image in this review.
I cannot stress this enough: if you have not seen The Dark Knight Rises yet, do not read any further. The success of the film depends wholly on
allowing it to develop at its own pace; any spoilers therein would detract from
the overall experience.
The first question on the table, the one I’ve been
asked more than any other in the past month, is: Is The Dark
Knight Rises the best film in the Nolan Trilogy? The question almost answers itself; The Dark Knight Rises is the final,
biggest, and longest entry in what has become this generation’s “trilogy.” In the same way that The Godfather, Star Wars,
and Lord of the Rings were definitive
three-film cycles for a specific audience, Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is a
cohesive story with a beginning, middle, and end. As rarely happens, each film is fantastic,
with no one film bogging down the affair; as usually happens, the middle film –
The Dark Knight – most easily stands
on its own and is perhaps “best” simply by virtue of its accessibility and
self-contained nature.
By contrast, The
Dark Knight Rises is perhaps not for the uninitiated - but we are
initiated, aren’t we? While newcomers
might be confused by Harvey Dent Day and why exactly Bruce Wayne takes nearly 45
minutes to don the cape and cowl of the Batman, most of us recognize The Dark Knight Rises as the fulfilling third
act – not, in the tradition of The Godfather: Part III, a mere epilogue – of a long narrative. Christopher Nolan is a filmmaker who creates
movies in which everything pays off by the end, and apparently he can do the
same with trilogies. Rather than exist
solely as a three-hour film, The Dark
Knight Rises is filled with callbacks and payoffs all the way back to the
opening scene of Batman Begins. The repeated image of Thomas Wayne descending
into a well to rescue his fallen son invokes what becomes the theme of the
trilogy - “Why do we fall, Bruce? So we
can learn to pick ourselves up.”
All of this is a long answer to say that The Dark Knight Rises is so much more
than just the “best” of the trilogy - it’s a payoff, a reward, a
fulfillment. But if all Nolan wanted to
do was end his trilogy, he could have done so without crafting the moving and
unified film we have before us. Even
taken in isolation, The Dark Knight Rises
is a cinematic experience with its own beginning, middle, and end, putting its
characters and its audience through their paces so that everyone comes out
feeling fulfilled.
At the core of the film is Batman’s journey. As Bruce Wayne and Batman, Christian Bale
begins the film as an emotionally broken man whose mission was derailed by its
success. As Bane tells him later, “Victory
has defeated you.” To be Gotham’s hero, Batman
must publically become its villain, and his disappearance is a graceless
one. Faced with the prospect of failure
as a crimefighter and as an investor in a nuclear reactor project, Bruce
retreats from both.
In The Prestige, his metaphorical examination of magic tricks, Christopher Nolan
pointed out that magic tricks succeed because we want to be fooled. This feature is one of the most brilliant
elements of The Dark Knight Rises and
sets up a wonderful comparison to The Avengers at the same time. Throughout the first act of The Dark Knight Rises, we want nothing
more than to see Bruce emerge from retirement and become Batman once more. Eight years, nothing. This is the Batman we’re talking about. But the first act’s “prestige” is that Bruce
simply isn’t Batman anymore; he’s forgotten the purpose of his quest, and he
can’t see a future beyond the Batcave - and a Bat-grave. So while we’re happy to see Batman in action,
he’s unprepared, and his second encounter with Bane ends in tragic
failure. (On his first, Batman fails to
notice Bane, recalling the hubris which prevented him from recognizing The
Joker as a threat.) Where The Avengers gave us exactly what we wanted
and did so with as much entertaining gusto as I’ve ever seen, The Dark Knight Rises proves itself more
than just a movie by subverting our expectations.
But Batman doesn’t die, as many predicted, at Bane’s
hands (or over his knee, in a scene which evokes the most famous Bane moment in
a way I thought impossible). Worse, he’s
broken, his body left to rot and his soul left to despair. And around this Nolan builds what I think is
the greatest moment in the trilogy; literally at bottom, Bruce finds the
strength within himself to overcome the worst Bane can throw at him, climbs to
safety, and finally becomes the hero we’ve wanted him to be. His purpose is clear, his soul is purged – of
the ghosts of his parents, Rachel Dawes, and Ra’s al Ghul (in a wonderful
surprise cameo by Liam Neeson) – and his rise is perhaps the most inspirational
element of any film I’ve seen in recent memory.
The heartstopping moment when Bruce makes his “leap of faith” is
followed swiftly by the revelation of his success, a moment of unrestrained
jubilation which proves one way the Dark Knight has risen - from the ashes of
his own defeat.
This is a scene which I cannot praise to excess; I
think after three movies and almost nine hours, the greatest scene in the
trilogy is this one because it perfectly and eloquently encapsulates the whole
theme of the movies and does so in a rousing and powerful moment that
sacrifices none of its pathos for that visceral kick (Inception pun
intended). I get a little glassy-eyed
just thinking about it; Bruce has twice failed to escape the prison (Nolan’s
clever nod, I think, to the Lazarus Pit which gave Ra’s al Ghul his strength
and immortality and to Bane’s Santa Priscan origins in the comics). In a way, it’s Filmmaking 101 – of course
Bruce needs a third effort to escape – but Nolan goes so far beyond the “requirement”
of a third attempt by giving us this incredibly moving moment and augmenting it
by layering on another symbol, this time from Batman Begins. In that film,
Bruce spent much of the film confronting his own fears, and never was that
quest more palpable than when a flock of bats forced him to his knees – only
for him to rise and face his fear. As
Bruce prepares to make the final leap to freedom in The Dark Knight Rises, he’s again attacked by bats – but here the
effect is one of confirming, not problematizing, his journey; we know
everything’s going to be okay – he’s done this before.
All of which would lose so much of its emotional
register were it not for the exceptional score in this moment, as composed by
Hans Zimmer. “Why Do We Fall?” is
perhaps the one piece of music, above any else on the soundtrack, that distills
the film into a single musical cue; it begins softly, slowly and confidently
rises, and concludes with the loudest and most bombastically confident
articulation of the Batman theme. While
Zimmer, sans former costar James Newton Howard (whose absence is never really
felt), has crafted several new action stings and themes for Bane (the iconic “Deshi
basara” chant) and Catwoman (a slinky and mysterious piano track), “Why Do We
Fall?” is already the one I’ve listened to the most, the one which gets my
heart pumping, my eyes misting, and my admiration for the character rising.
Orbiting the central character of the film are the
members of the supporting cast, each of whom has a compelling story arc. The cast has two hearts – Gary Oldman as
Commissioner Jim Gordon and Michael Caine as the stalwart butler Alfred Pennyworth. Gordon’s journey mirrors Batman’s in that
both characters have sacrificed their personal integrity to save their city; at
the end of The Dark Knight, Gordon
deified Harvey Dent, the man who tried to murder his son, and allowed the city’s
true hero to be scapegoated. When we
meet Gordon, he’s nearly broken (a recurring theme in the film – brokenness and
the necessary pain of repair), mumbling his words and mired in the habits of
wartime. But when Bane literally throws
Gordon’s actions before the world, Gordon finds his strength and realizes that
continuing the fight for peace is his only means of atonement. Like Batman, Gordon walked away from his duty,
and similarly Gordon learns that he must confront, not bury, evil to save his
city.
Alfred Pennyworth, too, has abdicated his duty; at
the end of The Dark Knight, Alfred
lied to his employer by burning the note which revealed Rachel Dawes had died
choosing Harvey Dent over Bruce. Alfred
serves as the film’s conscience, reminding Bruce - and us - that he is no
longer capable of being Batman when the film begins, in part because his body
is weak, in part because he has more to offer the city than his life, and in
part because Alfred recognizes that Bruce wants to die. Michael Caine delivers two powerful scenes
that would move even the stone-hearted Pharoah of Exodus to tears, when he reveals the truth of Rachel’s note to
Bruce and when he weeps at the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne that he failed
them by allowing Bruce to continue as Batman.
But by the end of the film, in that cafe in Florence, Caine does so much
with a smile and a nod that we didn’t even need to see what he saw across the
table; it’s genius filmmaking, paying off on a speech early in the film, and it’s
even better acting which speaks volumes with a nod.
In the same way that these characters rise from
their own darknesses, the other supporting cast members embody their characters’
journeys with aplomb. Series newcomer
Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays rookie cop John Blake, who enacts the
disillusionment of which Jim Gordon is the end result. Perceiving structures as shackles – a
brighter reflection of Matthew Modine’s Foley, who is mired in his own selfish
ambition – Blake retains faith in Batman’s mission and becomes a kind of Batman
during Bruce’s imprisonment in Bane’s “Lazarus Pit.” With Gotham under Bane’s control, Blake acts
in the shadows but out of uniform, attempting to lead a revolution from within
but learning from Batman that the mask is an essential part of the crusade. JGL is a budding star, and he dramatizes so
much of Blake’s own struggle that it’s never unclear what motivates the man so
many believed would be revealed as Robin.
Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) learns that he’s not as
strong as Batman when he’s confronted by Bane, forced to choose between death
and effectively arming Bane with a nuclear bomb. But by the end of the film Fox realizes that
he doesn’t need to be Gotham’s only hero, just his helper; as master of Batman’s
armory, Fox equips Batman with the tools he needs to save the city and
indirectly saves his life by, surprisingly, building an incomplete
autopilot. But the journey we haven’t
tracked yet is Selina Kyle’s, in a surprise performance by Anne Hathaway. With a subtle “Oops” and accompanying shift
in body language, Hathaway demonstrates the gray nuances in which her character
slinks, epitomizing the ambiguities inherent in the antiheroic jewel thief
known in the comics as Catwoman (a word never uttered here). In some ways Selina is the most frustrating
character of the film, betraying both Bruce and Batman time and time again, yet
Bruce’s optimism and faith in the innate goodness of humanity wins out when her
character redeems herself and assists in the city’s salvation. Her tearful “I guess we’re both suckers,”
followed by a passionate kiss, demonstrates the character’s arc, beginning as a
hopeless survivor and concluding as a hero invigorated by Batman, the avatar of
optimism. It’s an arc that a lesser
actress couldn’t have pulled off, but Nolan, as ever, elicits an A+
performance.
And all of this is to say nothing of Tom Hardy’s
Bane, who is one of the surprises of the film because of how freshly original
he is. Gone is the steroidal luchador of
the comics; banished is the memory of Jeep Swanson’s silent bump-on-a-log from Batman & Robin. Instead, this Bane is equal parts Occupy Wall
Street and Reign of Terror, the heir of Ra’s al Ghul’s League of Shadows and
their destructive destiny. Bane is an
unlikely choice for the trilogy’s final villain, perhaps, less noteworthy than
The Riddler or The Penguin (both of whom were rumored), but Nolan’s greatest
strength has always been creating a story that holds together, where no element
is wasted. With Bane, that strength is
exercised since Bane becomes the perfect “final” villain, an adversary who
challenges Batman’s body with an eye on breaking his spirit, as well. Though Hardy’s voice may confuse some
(although no one’s reported, to my knowledge, total lack of comprehension), it
fits with the sideshow barker personality Bane adopts when leading a revolution
in Gotham; his brutal physicality is even more compelling, calming strutting
through the first hour before revealing just how sorely underestimated he’s
been.
I’ve agonized over this next paragraph for days,
debating whether to discuss a certain character, but if you’ve made it this far
you aren’t concerned about spoilers. It’s
Marion Cotillard as Miranda Tate who’s a delightful surprise. I’m not referring to her “twist reveal” as
the true daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, Talia, because it’s not a shock to true
believers who recognize her as perfect visual casting; what surprised me was
how well she pulled off the shift. As
Miranda, Cotillard is slightly cynical but essentially optimistic about the
future, and as Talia the only thing that changes is how many bodies she’s
willing to sacrifice; her performance is a true delight to watch, particularly
on multiple viewings, because of how well she plays the deceit inherent in the
character. Her transition never feels
wrong, and she plays the gloating villainess just as well as she plays the
woman who shares Bruce’s bed in an odd but perfectly planned seduction scene. Talia’s inclusion brings the trilogy full
circle, reminding us that Bruce has, all along, been fighting aspects of
himself in order to become Gotham’s hero.
The Dark
Knight Rises is a film that’ll make an excellent
Armrest Review when the DVD comes out; there are so many delightful moments in
which I’d like to revel – Hathaway’s “Oops,” more on the prison escape, and the
power of the score in particular places – but the ending in particular deserves
so much more attention than I can give it in a review which is already much
longer than I’d intended. It’s poetry, a
beautiful ending that caps the trilogy in a profound and meaningful way; Nolan
pulls no punches, emotionally or narratively, and creates a conclusion so
perfectly crafted that even I, a seasoned Bat-fan, was prepared to watch Batman
die. When Batman realizes the only way
to save his city is to die in the process, it’s almost cathartic, a sigh of
inevitability that makes perfect sense.
Let that sink in. I was fine with
Batman dying. The steps along the way
felt natural – Batman’s semi-apology to Selina which affirms his faith in her,
the resolute determination with which he enters The Bat – and the standout
emotional moment is one in which Batman explains to Gordon that a good man
doesn’t need acclaim to be a hero.
Again, it’s a beautiful link back to one of the best moments of Batman Begins, and the only thing that
stopped me from full-on tears was Oldman’s bewildered revelation, deftly
played, of Batman’s secret identity.
But just like Inception,
the film doesn’t end like we think. As
in The Prestige, Nolan has one more
trick up his sleeve. And in the same way
that The Dark Knight masterfully
concluded every storyline with one eloquent montage, Nolan smartly playes on
the stop/start momentum of comic book panels with a closing montage that gives
finality and a sense of purpose to the trilogy.
Each cast member gets a moment to shine, to demonstrate how well they
can act without using words. Watch the
dawn of understanding in Morgan Freeman’s eyes when he hears the truth about
the autopilot. See Joseph Gordon-Levitt
claim his inheritance, and know exactly what Gary Oldman’s thinking when he
runs his fingers over the new Bat-signal.
And then there’s the shot of Michael Caine in Florence, who’s
heartbreaking until his silent wash of relief.
And as Zimmer’s score pounds home the notion that the fight isn’t over,
hold back those tears and continue to smile – your investment in the film has
not been for nothing.
At the dinner table of comic book movies at which we’ve
all sat this summer, The Amazing Spider-Man
was the appetizer, perhaps deliberately unfulfilling but worth sampling. The
Avengers, by contrast, was the dessert, the dish to which everything had
been building and the sweet expectations manifested in a treat worth
sharing. But The Dark Knight Rises isn’t even at the same table as these films;
it’s the latest dish from a master craftsman (and his able team) who has brought
all of his skills to bear. Skeptics and
true believers alike cannot be quite ready for what they will experience, and
indeed they may even challenge the film to meet expectations.
But as ever, The Dark Knight Rises.
The Dark Knight Rises is rated PG-13 “for intense sequences of violence and action, some sensuality and language.” Violence and all-out action sequences are prevalent as before but are almost entirely bloodless, though Bane’s methods and physicality are more brutal than we’ve seen in the trilogy thus far. There is one clearly implied sexual encounter, with no more than bare shoulders, while another character is implied to be a prostitute; Selina is extremely sultry and uses that to her advantage, without transgressing beyond an astonishingly tight suit. Language is mostly tame and is probably PG-quality taken on its own.
Friday, August 31, 2012
The Dark Knight Rises - EPIC Review
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