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Adam West’s Five Best Bat-Moments

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A pop-culture giant has shuffled off this four-color coil. Adam West, who played the title role in the 1966 Batman, and later reprised the role in voice and physical form more than once, has died of leukemia at the age of 88.

Having just spent a year and a half revisiting West’s most famous role for this very site, I now present the five best Bat-moments West had in his run on television wearing the cape and cowl:

 

1. The Bat-usi

Batman Batusi

Actually, the entire scene in the bar that leads up to Batman doing that magnificent dance in “Hi Diddle Riddle,” the first episode of Batman to air, is pretty much vintage West Batman. We start with him entering the discotheque and refusing the offer of a table, instead going to the bar because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Reportedly, that scene was the one West read for his audition, and one of the reasons why he got the part was that he played that line 100% straight rather than wink at the camera or be a goof about it. Perhaps the best thing about West’s portrayal was that he took it completely seriously. He refused to stoop to the joke, which is why little kids (like me!) could watch the show unironically and view Batman as a hero who did good. We took him seriously as a hero because he took himself seriously as one.

Even when it was totally ridiculous. Like trying to be inconspicuous while walking into a discotheque while wearing a brightly colored skintight outfit and a big blue cape. And dancing a silly dance, though the latter was after they put a mickey in his fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Oh yeah! He goes into a discotheque alone, because Robin is underage, and then orders fresh-squeezed orange juice. Bliss.

 

2. Batman and Robin strike a blow for art

Gotham City was regularly a substitute for New York City, with establishing shots of NYC subbing for Gotham, and place names riffs on locations in the Big Apple: Spiffany’s, Short Island, the United World Building, and so on, not to mention the mayor and governor (Linseed and Stonefellow) being riffs on the contemporary officeholders in New York (Lindsay and Rockefeller). In “When the Rat’s Away the Mice Will Play,” the climactic fisticuffs with the Riddler are held in the torch of the Queen of Freedom monument, which has an art gallery that includes a simply hideous painting of Batman and Robin.

In order to make a dramatic entrance, Batman and Robin burst through the painting in the spots corresponding to where their images are. This has the dual effect of looking cool and utterly destroying that bloody awful painting. So win-win.

 

3. Batman unmasks a criminal via his parking habits

False Face was a frustrating villain for the Dynamic Duo to deal with because he was a master of disguise and so could appear as anyone. At various points, he poses as both Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara, thus providing Neil Hamilton and especially Stafford Repp with a chance to act outside of their characters’ usual range of “fawning over Batman.” At one point, Batman and Robin see an armored car, and Batman quickly deduces that one of the armored car drivers must be False Face because he notices that the armored car parked in front of a fire hydrant!

Only a criminal would callously park in front of a hydrant like that, Batman announces, and False Face is exposed! You gotta love the bat-logic. (For the record, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t see an armored car parked illegally while it was making a pickup……)

 

4. Bruce Wayne exposes himself to art

In “Pop Goes the Joker,” the titular villain opens an art school for millionaires as a cover for a kidnapping scheme. At this point, Joker has already become the darling of the art world with his abstract work. As Bruce Wayne, Batman decides to take the class to see what the Joker is up to. Most of the time, West only got to be Bruce long enough for Alfred to tell him the bat-phone was ringing, and he took advantage of this particular opportunity to engage in a delightful battle of wits with the clown prince of crime:

JOKER: That’s terrible—terrible, Wayne! Why even a three-year-old could do better than that. Here, let me show you.

[Joker mushes the sculpture to make it more abstract.]

JOKER: There! That’s more like it!

BRUCE: Yes, I see what you mean, that’s about the level of a three-year-old.

JOKER: I do the jokes around here, Wayne.

BRUCE: I’d say that’s one of your better ones.

 

5. Milk and cookies

In the comics, Bruce Wayne has always been portrayed as a womanizer and playboy. It’s part of the “disguise” of Bruce to keep people from even considering the notion that he’s really Batman. Because Batman was designed to appeal to all audiences, this particular aspect was downplayed heavily (though hints of it came out in Bruce’s interactions with Barbara Gordon, a.k.a. Batgirl, in the third season). Amusingly, though, it did get used as a plot point twice, and both times it was when West was acting opposite Lee Meriwether. The first was in the 1966 Batman movie, where Julie Newmar’s lack of availability forced them to re-cast Catwoman with Meriwether. In the film, Catwoman pretends to be a Russian journalist who flirts outrageously with Bruce, and Bruce responds. They even smooch!

But that’s nowhere near as much fun as when Meriwether returns in “King Tut’s Coup”/”Batman’s Waterloo” as Lisa Carson, the daughter of a multimillionaire, who is taken hostage by King Tut and whom the villain believes is the reincarnation of Cleopatra. At the end of the episode, Bruce walks her home and she invites him in for “milk and cookies.” Bruce accepts, as man cannot live by crimefighting alone and milk and cookies is the best-ever euphemism for getting laid you guys!

 

Honorable mention: Beware the Gray Ghost

Andrea Romano has been responsible for the casting of much of Warner Bros.’ animated releases over the decades, and she’s the best in the business. On the 1990s Batman: The Animated Series, she pulled off many a casting coup (particularly Kevin Conroy in the title role, who remains the definitive Batman voice), and for the episode “Beware the Gray Ghost,” she pulled off her best. For the role of Simon Trent, an actor who played the hero the Gray Ghost in an old TV series that Bruce Wayne watched as a boy, and who was now old and broke due to being typecast, she cast Adam West. He nailed the role, a wonderful love letter to West’s Batman that acknowledges his inspirational role as a hero, and also was a good commentary on how typecasting can ruin an actor’s career, but you can make it work if you embrace it instead of rejecting it.

Kinda like what Adam West did.

Rest in peace, old chum.

(Please feel free to provide your favorite West moments in the comments. I could easily come up with another five as it is…….)

Keith R.A. DeCandido reviewed the entirety of Batman 66 in the “Holy Rewatch, Batman!” feature on this site from September 2015 to May 2017. He’s also written about Star Trek, Doctor Who, Stargate, Marvel’s Netflix series, and Wonder Woman here. His 53rd novel, Marvel’s Warriors Three: Godhood’s End (Book 3 of the “Tales of Asgard” trilogy) was released last month, with two more due out this year: Mermaid Precinct, the next book in his fantasy police procedural series, and A Furnace Sealed, the first in his new urban fantasy series.


Introducing 4-Color to 35-Millimeter: The Great Superhero Movie Rewatch

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Superhero movies are all the rage in the early 21st century, but it’s hardly a new phenomenon. In the earliest days of superhero comics, they were quickly adapted into serialized formats: live action movie serials, radio dramas, and animated shorts. Superman, Batman, Captain Marvel—they all appeared in one or more of those forms in the late 1930s and 1940s.

It wasn’t until 1951 that the first feature-length film was released: Superman and the Mole Men, starring George Reeves, who would go on to star in The Adventures of Superman, the first hit TV series based on a superhero. In 1966, as a tie-in to the hugely successful Batman TV show starring Adam West, a feature film was released, bringing the Dynamic Duo’s colorful criminals to the big screen to face off against.

Then in the 1970s, things got crazy…..

4-Color to 35-Millimeter: The Great Superhero Movie Rewatch is a new weekly feature here on Tor.com that will take an in-depth look at all the live-action superhero films (both theatrical releases and TV movies) that have been made over the decades.

We’ll start with the aforementioned Superman and the Mole Men and the 1966 Batman next Tuesday, and then each week we’ll be back with another movie or group of movies. Assuming the current Hollywood release schedule holds, there will be 120 films to cover between 1951 and the end of 2018, so we’ve got lots and lots of heroing to look back on—and look forward to.

We’ll examine Marvel’s TV movies of the 1970s featuring Spider-Man, Dr. Strange, and Captain America. We’ll look at the Christopher Reeve Superman films and the Keaton/Kilmer/Clooney Batman films. We’ll wade through the B-listers who got their own films in the 1980s and 1990s, including Supergirl, Swamp Thing, Howard the Duck, Steel, Spawn, and Nick Fury. We’ll dig up the unreleased 1990s disasters featuring the Justice League, the Fantastic Four, and Captain America. We’ll look back at Marvel’s first attempt at a cinematic universe in their three Hulk movies of the late 1980s, as well as other movie series featuring the Crow, Blade, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, not to mention the three separate attempts at a film starring the Punisher. We’ll take a gander at the spate of independent comics turned into movies in the 1990s and 2000s starring the Mask, Tank Girl, Barb Wire, Mystery Men, Witchblade, and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, as well as pulp heroes the Shadow, the Rocketeer, the Phantom, and Judge Dredd.

And once we hit the 21st century, we’ll really kick it into high gear: the two sets of Spider-Man films; the tortuous history of the X-Men films; poorly received versions of Daredevil, Elektra, Catwoman, the Hulk, Constantine, Man-Thing, Green Lantern, Ghost Rider, Jonah Hex, and the Fantastic Four; better-received adaptations of V for Vendetta, Kick-Ass, and Hellboy; Christopher Nolan taking on Batman, Zack Snyder taking on Watchmen, Bryan Singer taking on Superman, and Frank Miller taking on the Spirit; return engagements for Judge Dredd and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; plus, of course, the Marvel and DC Cinematic Universes that have come to dominate the hero-in-cinema landscape, the former since 2008, the latter since 2013.

It ought to be a fun ride. Looking forward to rewatching these 120 films with you all….

Keith R.A. DeCandido is the author of more than 50 novels, more than 70 short stories, a mess of comic books, and lots more, including two novels and two short stories starring Spider-Man, a Thor trilogy, short stories featuring the Hulk, the X-Men, and the Silver Surfer, and the Super City Cops series of novels, novellas, and short stories about police in a city filled with costumed heroes and villains. You can read his blog, follow him on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram, or read the various things he’s written for this site, including rewatches of the original Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Stargate, and Batman ’66, as well as pieces on Doctor Who, Wonder Woman, Luke Cage, and Iron Fist.

Pre-Dawn of Justice: Superman and the Mole Men and Batman (1966)

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In the late 1930s, National Periodical Publications had two magazines that would change history: Action Comics, the first issue of which featured “Superman,” a colorful, powerful character created by Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster, and Detective Comics, the 27th issue of which featured “Bat Man,” a darker, nastier character created by Bill Finger & Bob Kane. They quickly became the two main templates for the modern superhero: the one a big, bold, brightly colored hero of the people with tremendous power, the other a darker, scarier defender of justice who used his brains, training, and wealth.

Both characters became huge hits, and they were quickly adapted into other media. Columbia Pictures licensed the rights to do movie serials, of which four were produced—two Superman ones starring Kirk Alyn as Clark Kent and his alter ego and Noel Neill as Lois Lane, and two Batman ones starring, respectively, Lewis Wilson and Robert Lowery as the caped crusader. In addition, Paramount did animated shorts featuring Superman, produced by Max and Dave Fleischer, and the radio station WOR produced a long-running radio series, both of which had the great Bud Collyer providing Superman’s voice.

Superman’s continued popularity after World War II and the burgeoning television market led to the development of a TV series, but the producers wanted to hedge their bets and test out the concept first. So they gave us a feature film in 1951. This may have been partly due to the feeling among many, including star George Reeves, that television was a passing fad, and the movie was made to make sure there’d be something lasting. (In hindsight, this is hilarious, but TV was still very new in 1951…) The Kellogg’s-sponsored The Adventures of Superman television series debuted the following fall, which lasted for six seasons. Reeves and Phyllis Coates starred in the film as Superman and Lois Lane, respectively, and they continued to the TV series, alongside Jack Larson, John Hamilton, and Robert Shayne. When Coates was unavailable after season 1, Neill was brought back to play Lane. (This movie was also re-cut into a two-part episode of the series.)

Batman didn’t make it back to the screen until the 1960s, when 20th Century Fox acquired the rights to do Batman and farmed it out to William Dozier, who wanted very much to do a feature film to lead in much as Superman had received a decade and a half earlier. Fox didn’t go for it, and the show was also rushed into production as a midseason replacement in January 1966. It proceeded to become such a huge hit that Dozier’s movie was greenlit, and aired between the first and second seasons. Adam West starred as Batman, with Burt Ward as Robin, along with Alan Napier, Neil Hamilton, Stafford Repp, and Madge Blake. All six were in the film, along with four of the show’s established recurring villains: Cesar Romero as the Joker, Frank Gorshin as the Riddler (for which he had received an Emmy nomination), Burgess Meredith as the Penguin, and Lee Meriwether (filling in for the unavailable Julie Newmar) as Catwoman.

 

Powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men

Superman and the Mole Men
Written by Richard Fielding
Directed by Lee Sholem
Produced by Barney A. Sarecky
Original release date: November 23, 1951

Superman and the Mole Men opens in the small town of Silsby, “Home of the world’s deepest oil well,” according to the sign at the town border. At an oil rig, the employees are throwing away a great deal of valuable and hardly used equipment. The answer to queries as to why this is happening from the boss, Corrigan, boil down to, “I said so, shut up.”

The oil rig’s PR guy, Craig, drives Clark Kent and Lois Lane to the oil well to do a feature, and he’s rather surprised when the watchman, “Pops” Shannon, informs him that the rig’s being shut down. Kent and Lane travelled 2500 miles from Metropolis for this story, and it doesn’t seem to be much of one. However, the reporters do learn that they dug 32,740 feet—that’s more than six miles down, and deeper than anyone’s ever dug before. Before they leave, Kent notices the barely used equipment in the hole.

Later that night, after they’ve checked into the hotel, Kent and Lane decide to drive out to the well to see if they can learn anything else—maybe from Pops.

At the well, two creatures crawl up out of one of the drill holes. They’re basically human, but very short, with oversized heads, hair on the back of their hands, but none on top of their huge heads. They’re dressed in all black clothes. They investigate the oil rig, and see Pops through a window, reading something.

Kent and Lane arrive to find Pops dead. It might just have been a heart attack, but it might not have been. Lane calls Craig while Kent checks out the rest of the rig. While she’s on hold, Lane sees two of the creatures in the window and screams, but they’re gone by the time Kent responds. They get Craig, Corrigan, the sheriff, and the coroner to the rig. The coroner thinks it was a heart attack and nobody really believes that Lane saw what she saw. Everyone leaves except for Corrigan, who will wait for someone to fetch Pops’s body, and Kent offers to stay with him.

Once they’re alone, Kent tries once again to find out what was in Corrigan’s report that led to the rig being shut down. Corrigan shows Kent five test tubes with material taken from the drill—they all glow in the dark, with increasing brightness the further down the material came from. He thinks it might be radium (he’s sent for a Geiger counter). On top of that, once they reached a certain point, the drill broke through to nothing, as if the center of the Earth was hollow. Additionally, six miles down, there were one-celled organisms that were on the drill, which means something’s alive down there.

The two creatures are seen outside town, scaring the coroner’s assistant so much that he drives into a ditch. Kent and Corrigan turn the lights out to leave, and discover that the oranges that Pops was eating are now also phosphorescent. Meanwhile, the two creatures continue to explore, eventually arriving at a house, where they are greeted by a little girl, whose reaction is much calmer than Lane’s, saying hello and asking who they are.

Kent and Corrigan talk down a mob that has formed in the hotel, led by a man named Benson, that is going out to hunt the creatures down and shoot them. Kent points out that they are probably just as scared of surface-dwellers as they are of them. He urges them to go home and lock their doors and let him handle it.

The girl plays ball with the creatures, who seem to be enjoying themselves (and also making the girl’s ball glow), but when the girl’s mother enters, she screams loud enough to be heard in the hotel. The mob all runs toward the screaming, while Kent runs into an alley (to Lane’s chagrin) and changes into Superman.

Flying over the town, he gets to the house ahead of the mob, warning them off by bending Benson’s rifle in half and standing there while Benson punches him and badly hurts his hand. Everyone disperses, and Lane, Corrigan, and Craig approach Superman, Lane really really glad to see him.

The mob’s hounds catch the scent of the creatures and track them to the dam. Superman follows by flying off, impressing the heck out of Corrigan and Craig (Lane just smiles). Superman tries to warn Benson not to shoot them, especially on the dam, as they’re radioactive. If they fall into the reservoir, they’ll contaminate the water supply. Benson is unimpressed and shoots Superman futilely, and Supes socks him in the jaw. Another guy shoots one of the creatures, and he falls—Superman flies off to catch him and takes him to a hospital, while the mob chases the second one to a shack. The creature hides in it, surrounded by the hounds. Benson leashes the pooches and puts dry sagebrush around the shack in order to burn the place down. (He does this right next to a barrel, and I’m thinking he should maybe have checked to see what was in the barrel first…)

As the fire rages, the creature yanks up a floorboard to get under the shack and crawl out to safety. He runs for the oil rig and climbs back down the hole to the center of the Earth where it’s safe.

Benson gleefully reports to the sheriff that they took care of both creatures, but upon learning that one is at the hospital, he sends his boys off to string the creature up. When the sheriff tries to stop them, Benson pulls a gun on him and later punches him and has the sheriff put in jail by the mob.

At the hospital, Kent assists the doctor in removing the bullet from the creature (the nurse refuses to get anywhere near the patient). Lane arrives and castigates Kent for not being around. Why he doesn’t mention that he assisted the doctor is left as an exercise for the viewer. Craig and Corrigan show up ahead of the mob saying that they’re out for blood. Kent says he’ll be right back, and Lane accuses him of cowardice in absentia. Benson’s people punch out Corrigan and grab Lane.

Superman then steps through the door and makes it clear he won’t let anyone in—though he does allow Craig to bring the injured Corrigan in for treatment. Lane frees herself from her captors with some well placed elbows and then is almost shot, but for Superman’s quick reaction. Supes sends Lane inside and then takes everyone’s guns away, tossing the people themselves aside like cordwood.

The next morning at the oil rig, the creature comes back with a couple of friends and a weapon. They sneak into the town and see a bunch of people heading into the hotel. One of Benson’s cronies sees them.

The creatures arrive at the hospital, and they encounter Superman. He tries to talk to them. The second creature remembers him as the one who saved their friend. Supes goes inside to retrieve the wounded creature in the hopes that it will end this whole thing peacefully.

Unfortunately, Benson goes alone with a rifle to the hospital. The creatures turn their weapon on Benson, which causes him great pain, but Superman then arrives and stands in front of the beam. Benson tries to thank Superman for saving his life, but Supes won’t even look at him when he replies, “That’s more than you deserve,” and goes off with the creatures.

With Supes carrying the wounded one, they return to the oil rig and head back down the hole.

Lane, Craig, and Corrigan arrive at the rig, where Corrigan reveals that the creatures aren’t radioactive—it’s just phosphorescence. (It’s probably how they can see so far underground.) And then the rig explodes, the creatures having destroyed it to keep the two worlds separate.

 

To the batpoles!

Batman
Written by Lorenzo Semple Jr.
Directed by Leslie H. Martinson
Produced by William Dozier
Original release date: July 30, 1966

What follows is an abbreviated version of the plot summary of Batman (1966) from “Holy Rewatch Batman!” on this site, originally published on 19 February 2016.

A yacht carrying a dehydrator invented by Commodore Schmidlapp is en route to Gotham City. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson have received word that the commodore is in danger, so they slide down the Batpoles to change into Batman and Robin and take the Batcopter out to sea—but then the yacht disappears, after which point the Dynamic Duo are attacked by an exploding shark that they barely escape with their lives from.

Later, Batman gives a press conference in Police Commissioner Gordon’s office. He denies that a transatlantic yacht just disappeared, and refuses to answer any further questions about the yacht or the exploding shark (which he says was probably some unfortunate animal who accidentally swallowed a mine).

Kitanya Irenya Tatanya Karenska “Kitka” Alisoff of the Moscow Bugle asks if Batman can take off his mask so she can get a better picture. He explains that his effectiveness as a crimefighter requires that his true identity remain a secret.

After the press is dismissed, Gordon, Batman, Robin, and Chief O’Hara realize that this could be a team effort by four of Batman’s rogues’ gallery, all of whom are not presently incarcerated: the Penguin, the Joker, the Riddler, and Catwoman.

Our Soviet journalist turns out to be Catwoman in disguise, and she has indeed teamed up with Joker, Riddler, and Penguin to form the United Underworld (their slogan: “today Gotham City, tomorrow the world!”). They squabble amongst themselves (Riddler is peeved that Penguin’s exploding shark trick failed), but quickly calm down, as they need to put aside their egos for the greater, er, bad. Penguin even quotes Benjamin Franklin (“we must hang together or most assuredly we will hang separately”).

The United Underworld have kidnapped Schmidlapp, and placed him in a replica of his cabin on the yacht, explaining that they are fog-bound in the Outer Banks.

Our heroes get into the Batboat and investigate an unauthorized bell buoy where the illusory yacht was. Right under the buoy is the United Underworld’s submarine. Batman and Robin find a shark cage attached to the buoy as well as lenses for the hologram of the yacht.

Penguin uses magnets to attach our heroes to the buoy and fires a torpedo. Batman tries to use the bat-transmitter to mess with the torpedo’s signal, and it explodes prematurely. The same happens to the second torpedo, but the batteries in the bat-transmitter die before he can mess with it. It explodes when it’s supposed to, and the bad guys squeal with glee.

However, our heroes survived! A porpoise hurled itself into the path of the final torpedo, allowing Batman and Robin to survive. (How they demagnetized themselves from the buoy is left as an exercise for the viewer.)

The Dynamic Duo calls the Pentagon, learning that the Navy recently sold a pre-atomic surplus submarine to a man named P.N. Gwynne, whose only address is a PO box. After Batman scolds the admiral, who belatedly realizes that selling a submarine to someone who doesn’t provide a proper address may not have been the hottest idea, a missile shoots through the air from the sub and skywrites two riddles in the form of jokes: “What does a turkey do when he flies upside down?” (gobbles up) and “What weighs six ounces, sits in a tree, and is very dangerous?” (a bird with a machine gun).

Back in the bad guys’ lair, the Riddler comes up with a plan that uses all their tricks. Catwoman—disguised as Kitka—will seduce and kidnap some millionaire (Riddler suggests Bruce Wayne, because of course he does), and Riddler will plant a clue that leads to the hideout. Batman will follow that clue to Joker’s jack-in-the-box, which will spring Batman out the window and onto an exploding octopus of Penguin’s. It can’t possibly fail!

Kitka pays a visit to Wayne Manor, claiming to have received some riddles on Wayne Foundation stationary. Bruce says it’s probably the work of some crank, and then invites Kitka to dinner, which she, of course accepts. Then he heads to the Batcave where he and Robin decipher the riddles: “What has yellow skin and writes?” A ballpoint banana. (Naturally.) “What people are always in a hurry?” Russians. (That’s actually almost clever.) They assume it’s a threat to Kitka’s life.

Bruce and Kitka go to dinner, violin players in the background. (Alfred and Robin keep an eye on them via the Batmobile’s surveillance tech.) They then take a horse-drawn carriage to a night club, and they dance to a French singer. Back in the horse-drawn carriage, Bruce flirts outrageously, to the point that Robin turns off the surveillance. Robin checks in with Gordon, and suggests activating the bat-signal. The bad guys will think that Batman and Robin are en route to police HQ, and they’ll view that as the best time to attack Kitka.

“Kitka” surreptitiously signals the other three while they flirt, and they head back to her borrowed penthouse apartment, where they smooch before Kitka changes into a sexy pink robe. Bruce quotes Edgar Allan Poe’s “To One in Paradise” at her.

Joker, Riddler, Penguin, and their henchmen fly to the penthouse on flying umbrellas. Bruce says that he has a feeling he’s about to be madly carried away—and then the three bad guys and the henchmen show up to madly carry him away. Bruce puts up a good fight, but is subdued. Robin turns the surveillance back on—just to peek for a second—to see that the place is empty and the bad guys are flying off on brooms.

Bruce wakes up in the United Underworld HQ and immediately asks where Kitka is, threatening to kill them all if she’s harmed. Catwoman agrees to take him to her, and he’s blindfolded and led down a labyrinthine path that gives Catwoman time to change. Bruce tells “Kitka” that they’re screwed, but she says that she overheard that she and Bruce are bait for Batman. She’s sure they’ll be freed once Batman is trapped. Bruce is less sanguine (for reasons he can’t divulge). He also tells Kitka that he keeps a radio transmitter by his left elbow—a common security device employed by capitalists such as him who carry large sums of money.

The other three are listening in, of course, and grab Bruce and untie him to remove the transmitter. But there is no transmitter, it was a ruse to get himself untied, and fisticuffs ensue—one of the henchmen falls onto the jack-in-the-box and is sprung to the waiting tentacles of the exploding octopus.

Bruce manages to jump out the window and swim to safety, returning to Wayne Manor to a relieved Dick and Gordon. After getting rid of Gordon, they head down the poles to the Batmobile and speed off.

The U.U. grab Schmidlapp’s dehydrator and use it on five guinea pigs. All five strapping young men have all the moisture removed from their bodies, leaving only piles of blue dust. Catwoman and Penguin put the bits of dust into separate containers.

Batman and Robin arrive at the docks, intending to ambush the U.U., but they find only an empty hideout and a bomb. Batman briefly searches for Kitka, but finds nothing, so he grabs the bomb and heads down to the bar. But not all the patrons evacuate (two women refuse to end their meal), so Batman runs around the docks trying to find an uninhabited place to toss the thing, and failing rather miserably, until he finds an empty spot of water to toss it into.

Penguin shows up disguised as Schmidlapp, a disguise the Dynamic Duo see completely through. But he insists he’s Schmidlapp—and he also has plastic coated fingers after scorching his fingertips, so they can’t check his fingerprints. However, there’s a retinal scanner in the Batcave, and they gas him and bring him there. Penguin asks for water, and after going to the drinking water dispenser, he hooks it up to the specimen bottles containing the guinea pigs, which were in his waistcoat. (However, he accidentally switched the lever to heavy water rather than light water; why a drinking water dispenser would ever dispense heavy water is left as an exercise for the viewer.)

The five guinea pigs are rehydrated, but because Penguin used heavy water, they are unstable and are turned to antimatter upon impact. Batman pretends to apologize to “Schmidlapp,” who obviously was kidnapped and brainwashed. They gas him and take him out, then wake him up and let him pretend to gas them and steal the Batmobile. They take the Batcycle to the airport, letting Penguin lead them to the U.U.’s new hideout by tracking the Batmobile from the Batcopter.

Unable to help himself, Riddler fires another riddle missile, but he lucks out and actually hits the Batcopter with the missile. Riddler is stunned—but not nearly as stunned as Robin to have them crash softly. Luckily, they landed atop a foam rubber wholesalers convention, specifically on an exhibit of foam rubber in its crude form (clearly labelled with a sign reading “FOAM RUBBER IN ITS CRUDE FORM”).

Then the missile explodes, providing two more riddles: “What goes up white and comes down yellow and white?” An egg. “How do you divide seventeen apples among sixteen people?” Make applesauce. Somehow they contrive this to mean the United World Building, which is having a session of the security council.

Batman and Robin run to the Gotham East River where the UW Building is located, the sub also arriving there with the dehydrator.

The nine members of the UW security council are arguing, each in their native language, and the U.U. dehydrate all of them in turn. They put each bit of delegate dust into a separate vial.

Batman and Robin order the building evacuated and head upstairs just as the U.U. are heading out with their dehydrated kidnap victims. However, Batman hesitates when Catwoman says that Kitka will die if they attack.

The bad guys go down to their sub, while Batman and Robin discover what they’ve done to the council. They head out to sea toward Short Island Sound, through which the sub will go out into international waters. The Dynamic Duo follows in the Batboat.

Riddler sends a ransom note to all nine countries, asking for a billion dollars from each nation for the safe return (and rehydration) of their delegate.

The U.U. fire a missile at the Batboat, but Batman has Robin jam it with the bat-radio. Then they try a torpedo, but the bat charge launcher detonates them prematurely. Penguin has them dive, but then Batman circles the sub with the Batboat while Robin fires the bat charge launcher at the sub. It rattles the sub enough that they are forced to surface. The Dynamic Duo board the sub, and fisticuffs ensue on the deck of the sub, until everyone except for Catwoman is knocked into the water.

Batman and Robin chase Catwoman into the sub, but she trips and her mask comes off and the Dynamic Duo realize that Catwoman and Kitka are one and the same. They manage to save the vials of dusty delegates—at least until Schmidlapp come out, stumbles into Batman, shattering the vials—then he sneezes, scattering the dust motes further.

Returning to the Batcave, the Dynamic Duo struggle to separate the dust particles into the right order. Once the work is done, they return to the UW building and rehydrate all nine piles of dust. Unfortunately, something went wrong, and the delegates are all speaking something other than their native tongues. They obviously got all mixed up.

Batman, though, is philosophical about it. Maybe this mixing of minds is the greatest service they could perform for humanity. He urges them to leave inconspicuously—through the window.

 

A doofy kind of heroism

It’s fascinating to watch these first two attempts at long-form live-action superhero movies back to back. Both were tie-ins to TV shows, the first as a sort-of pilot, the second as a reward for a job well done. Both show the main characters in the best possible light, as they do everything they can to preserve life, even to extremes. Superman stands in front of a weapon he knows nothing about in order to save the life of an asshole he’s been railing against for the whole movie. Batman goes to great lengths to dispose of a bomb without harming anyone. For all that “Some days you just can’t get rid of a bomb” has justifiably become a pop-culture punchline, the message of that scene is still an important one: life is sacred and should be preserved. Heroes are the people who work hard to preserve lives.

Even if those lives are weird little creatures with outsized heads and funny eyebrows, whose appearance is sufficiently scary that one old man dies of a heart attack at the very sight of them.

From the very beginning, Superman is trying to make sure that people survive and don’t do stupid stuff to get each other killed. Superman and the Mole Men comes across as the love child of the 1931 Frankenstein with Superman, down to the little kid who is the only one (besides our hero) who responds to the creatures with compassion. (The scene where they play ball is adorable.) Plus you have the science-goes-a-step-too-far motif with the oil rig that digs deeper than anyone has before, and the mob mentality taking over the adults.

Batman’s concerns are similarly noble, as he acts to keep people safe, whether the United World delegates, the ducks outside the U.U. headquarters, or “Miss Kitka.”

What’s most fascinating, though, is that these two movies are the reverse of what you’d expect, given the general histories of the two characters. When we think of Superman we think of a powerful being who can juggle tanks and whom bullets bounce off of. Superman’s enemies are guys who want to conquer the world or cause mass destruction. Batman, meanwhile, has often been the “dark knight detective,” but even in his goofier 1950s days (the comics that Dozier was riffing on for the TV series and this movie), his stories were generally a bit more street-level, dealing with colorful threats to Gotham City. Batman was always far less likely to save the entire world than Superman.

Yet in these two movies, those assumed positions are reversed. It’s Batman who is dealing with the fate of the world as the United World delegates are dehydrated and turned into dust, with world leaders hanging on his every move at the very end. It’s Superman whose case is remarkably microcosmic in scale. It’s just a small town at stake (a very small town), and while lip service is given to the macrocosmic issues beyond the confines of Silsby, they never get that far.

Superman and the Mole Men definitely has more heart. The creatures from beneath the Earth are tragic figures in the mode of Frankenstein’s monster—misunderstood due to being ugly by human standards. The goofiness of their appearance is due to the limitations of budget and technology in a 1951 feature film, and it’s to the script’s credit that it doesn’t succumb to that same cheapness. The creatures start out as monsters—even leaving a corpse in their wake—but Superman refuses to condemn them outright the way Benson does. And because Superman gives them the benefit of the doubt, so do we.

By contrast, Batman goes for the broader storyline, with exploding sharks, fancy gadgets, outlandish characters in ridiculous outfits, and silly performances. The creatures from six miles below look absurd by necessity—Joker’s supposed to look like that. (Well, maybe you’re not supposed to see his mustache under the white powder, but what can you do?) There is some social commentary here, but it’s more humorous satire. The end where the delegates get their brains swapped is a delightful jab at politics, not to mention the earlier commentary on military bureaucracy when the Navy belatedly realizes that selling to someone with an obvious pseudonym and no street address may have been unwise.

The Superman film has far more pointed commentary about the mob mentality, particularly at the end when Benson tries to thank Superman for saving his life, and the man from Krypton won’t even look at him. It’s a beautiful moment, giving a nasty person his comeuppance in a way that might actually do some good and make him a better person in future.

 

If only it had the acting to live up to it. Reeves does a lovely job playing the square-jawed, fair-minded hero who gets stuff done. The problem is—that’s how he plays Kent. And also Superman. The notion of a pair of glasses serving as a disguise was never a hundred percent convincing in the first place, and Reeves does nothing to distinguish one identity from the other. Kent is insistent on leniency for the creatures and to learn more about them, and Superman picks right up where Kent left off. Kent’s not being around when Superman is stands out even more in a tiny town of 1400 people. There’s just not enough differentiation here, and it makes the disguise utterly unconvincing. (It’s a frustrating contrast to Collyer who, in the animated shorts and radio show, did such a superlative job of deepening his voice for Superman as opposed to Kent. Not to mention what Christopher Reeve managed twenty-five years later.)

Coates’s Lane doesn’t really get to do much. She has the drive you’d expect from Lane, and she bitches about Kent’s cowardice, which isn’t very convincing given the way Kent stands up to people and assists with the surgery on the creature. But the main problem is that it’s absurd that the Daily Planet sent both of them on this story. A really really deep oil well is newsworthy, yes, but not so much that you send two ace reporters to cover it. She’s there because a Superman story can’t be done without Lois Lane, but she serves no real story function.

In his film, Adam West does a far superior job of differentiating Batman from Bruce Wayne, and by contrast, Wayne gets a lot more to do than is usual. On the TV series, ninety percent of the time, Wayne’s sole purpose was to answer the bat-phone in the early part of the episode and slide down a pole. He spent most of his time in costume. But the movie gives the Wayne aspect room to breathe, and West plays him differently, though much of that is due to his infatuation with “Kitka.”

Batman also gives us much stronger villains, as any one of Romero, Gorshin, Meredith, or Meriwether would be worth the price of admission, and the best scenes in the movie are watching the four of them play off each other. By contrast, Benson, played by veteran character actor Jeff Corey, is played with all the subtlety that Corey would later bring to his role as Plasus in Star Trek‘s “The Cloud Minders,” to wit, none whatsoever. He’s a straw antagonist. We’re given no reason why he’s such an ass, he just is because the plot needs someone to lead the mob. To be fair, we’re not given any rationale behind any of the Bat-antagonists’ mendacity, either, but they’re also very OTT-nutsy-cuckoo that it’s much easier to roll with it. Benson is just a normal person, which makes his evil a bit closer to the bone, but also given nothing like context.

In truth, both these films are better known because of their links to popular TV shows than they are as movies on their own. The Adventures of Superman lasted six seasons and proved to be hugely popular. Reeves became inextricably linked with the role, sometimes to good effect—Reeves quit smoking because he didn’t want to be seen to be encouraging kids to take up the habit—and sometimes not so much—he had trouble finding non-Superman roles after the show ended. Batman only lasted half as long, but while it was shorter-lived, it was arguably just as popular, particularly in its first season, which was one of the biggest hits in TV history, and which has continued to influence the pop-culture landscape five decades later. West was similarly typecast, though he found himself embracing that in the 2000s all the way up to his death this year (including his final role parodying himself on Powerless). Reeves didn’t live long enough to come to such a catharsis, as he died of a possibly self-inflicted gunshot wound in 1959.

It wouldn’t be until the 1970s that the notion of the superhero film would divorce itself from television, and it would also be the next time that we would see Superman on the big screen. Next week, we tackle the four Christopher Reeve films—Superman, Superman II, Superman III, and Superman IV: The Quest for Peace.

Keith R.A. DeCandido‘s latest work includes the novel Marvel’s Warriors Three: Godhood’s End, the third book in the “Tales of Asgard” trilogy, and short stories in the anthologies Aliens: Bug Hunt, Baker Street Irregulars, The Best of Bad-Ass Faeries, Nights of the Living Dead, and TV Gods: Summer Programming. Available for preorder is his Orphan Black book Classified Clone Report. You can read his blog or follow him on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.

Stop Pushing For Comic Book Movies To Win Best Picture

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Wonder Woman movie poster

Seeing a picture from the Wonder Woman movie underneath a title implying that comic book movies haven’t been good enough to be the best movie of the year might make you feel annoyed and dismissive. So it’s probably best if I preface my point by clarifying what this article is not. This isn’t a criticism of the entertainment value of comic book movies, since this year alone has put out some very enjoyable and successful superhero films that have earned tons of money. This also isn’t anything against the Wonder Woman movie in particular, as I enjoyed it, and was very happy to see such an iconic character overcome the cynicism about whether or not female protagonists hurt marketability. What this article is about is the significance of the Best Picture award.

The name sounds so self-explanatory: an award that should go to whatever movie was the best of the year. But the word “best” is also open to interpretation. Is your idea of the best movie the one that was the most fun to watch? The one that was the most thought-provoking? The one with the most original concepts? Ideally a movie would have all of those qualities, but frequently the nominees are each strong in one way or the other, and we’re all left with our own preferences on which quality deserves the highest praise.

It’s a commonly held notion that the Academy snubs films that aren’t interpretative, artsy, character pieces that are inaccessible to general movie goers. But a fair amount of “fun” films with straightforward narratives have won, spanning a variety of genres. Titanic, Gladiator, The Silence of the Lambs, Braveheart, and The Lord of The Rings: The Return of the King all earned the prestigious award, not to mention numerous other “popcorn movies” that did so. But comic book movies keep shattering box office records and are continuously winding up with Rotten Tomatoes scores over 90%, and yet not a single one has even been nominated for Best Picture. So if the Oscars aren’t averse to giving the nod to movies the general public gets excited for, why has this major part of the movie market not gotten acknowledgement from the Academy?

To answer that, let’s start by looking at the best case for a comic book movie that may have actually deserved a Best Picture nomination: The Dark Knight, eligible for the 2008 Oscars. It did wind up breaking ground when Heath Ledger became the first actor in a comic book movie to win Best Supporting Actor. But nominations for bigger awards than that eluded the film, leaving many wondering why. Looking past the Joker stealing every scene he was in, The Dark Knight does have flaws—for example, the way the Joker’s plans are so packed with convoluted variables that they only succeed not through cunning, but thanks to the plot conveniently accommodating him. But it has certainly aged better than the year’s eventual Best Picture winner, Slumdog Millionaire, which many now view as one of the Academy’s bigger botches for their most prestigious award. Did the Academy members really think the beloved Batman movie just didn’t live up to its reputation?

Batman The Dark Knight movie poster

Well, the following year the Academy broadened its maximum number of Best Picture nominations from five to ten, a move that very well could have been motivated in part by backlash against The Dark Knight not making the cut for 2008. As reported by the New York Times, when speaking about the increased number of Best Picture spots in a question and answer session, the Academy’s then president, Sidney Ganis, said, “I would not be telling you the truth if I said the words ‘Dark Knight’ did not come up.” With that acknowledgement, it certainly does not sound like the Academy are elitist snobs turning up their noses at masked vigilantes like so many people make the members out to be. I certainly won’t deny it: if there had been ten nomination spots in 2008, The Dark Knight definitely would have deserved one (along with WALL-E, which fans also felt was snubbed). Though even if the Academy could call a do over for 2008 (as they somewhat did for 2005, acknowledging in retrospect to The Hollywood Reporter that Brokeback Mountain was a more deserving winner than Crash), I suspect they still would have chosen Milk for Best Picture rather than The Dark Knight.

Regardless, after 2008 the excuse that there just happened to not be enough spots for a superhero movie to get nominated went out the window as the number of nomination slots jumped to ten. And we’ve established that the Academy is willing to award movies the general public enjoys, so it doesn’t seem like simple snobbery is the explanation either. So why has there not been a superhero nomination for Best Picture in the nearly ten years since the nomination slot increase?

To that, I would just say that there hasn’t been a truly great comic book movie in those ensuing years.

That might sound outrageous, but when you think about it there really haven’t been too many superhero movies in that time that even fans have commonly agreed are a cut above the rest. Iron Man, The Avengers, and Captain America: The Winter Solider were all fan pleasers, but all started falling apart in the third act. Iron Man had a well-told origin story, but a forgettable villain in Obadiah Stane. The Avengers likewise lost steam with having the generic Chitauri be prominent enemies for the heroes to test their teamwork against. And Winter Solider similarly abandoned the complex issues it broached early in the film for the typical bombastic climax.

Oddly enough, fans were even upset last year when Deadpool didn’t get a Best Picture nomination. Deadpool was a fine movie, and maybe it didn’t deserve a total snub across all the award categories, but to say it deserved one of the Best Picture spots? The most unique thing the movie brought was a Marvel character openly cursing (albeit amusingly). Not to mention that the villain was yet another cardboard cutout. That doesn’t really compare to the ambition eventual nominees like La La Land, Hidden Figures, and Moonlight showed. To say Deadpool was some egregious omission that could have been a candidate for the year’s best movie is really silly.

Deadpool movie Colossus Negasonic Teenage Warhead

Which brings us now to this year, and what inspired me to tackle this subject. Though award season is still a ways off and numerous strong contenders have yet to even hit theaters, fans of comic book movies have already found two candidates for Best Picture: Logan and Wonder Woman. Even as early as it is, it’s obvious that neither one deserves to win the award.

In terms of 2017’s movies, Dunkirk already looks like a lock for a Best Picture nomination. Get Out and The Beguiled are also likely candidates. And going by his previous work, Darren Aronofsky’s Mother! will also be something to keep an eye on. Those movies alone are strong enough competition to keep Logan and Wonder Woman from getting anything more than nominated. Just to be clear, it’s not like I’m rooting against a superhero movie ever getting that big win. I simply do not want to see it become a recurring trend each year for fans to cry foul when the Oscars don’t mislabel good comic book movies as great.

In the case of Wonder Woman, the majority of its emotional resonance exists off screen. Despite the heroine being one of the most well-known comic book characters, it took 76 years for her to get her own live-action solo film. In the interim, comparative unknowns to casual moviegoers, such as Ant-Man or Rocket Raccoon, were still making it to the big screen. This was thanks to the myth that audiences aren’t interested in female leads and that they don’t sell. So it has understandably been quite gratifying to see Wonder Woman break all sorts of box office records and shut down such a ridiculous excuse to avoid featuring female leads.

It also doesn’t hurt that as a piece of entertainment, Wonder Woman is on par with similarly enjoyable superhero origin stories like Batman Begins and Iron Man. That being said, while the movie is revolutionary for women in film, it’s far less groundbreaking as a piece of fiction. Looking at Wonder Woman simply for what’s on the screen, its third act faces many of the common problems in comic book movies. The side characters are given jokey one-liners in lieu of character development. The villain is basically an underdeveloped final boss plucked from a video game. The climactic battle threatens the world only to be resolved in a storm of CGI effects. It’s good even with its shortcomings, but nothing we haven’t seen before.

Logan, on the other hand, infuses its story with emotion seen on the screen. It’s such a stark contrast from any of the other X-Men films, and might actually stand a decent chance of getting a Best Picture nomination. Though I can’t see it winning, for the reasons I’ve brought up for many of the previous movies, specifically its dull villain. For all Logan does to try and buck typical superhero tropes, X-24 is the generic comic book movie antagonist, and relying on having a hero face an evil version of himself is just so boring at this point. Part of why The Dark Knight is so beloved is because the Joker was riveting to watch. So it really is a wonder why more comic book movies don’t try to emulate that nuanced antagonist. We’ve seen mirror image antagonists like X-24 too often in superhero movies in general, let alone in the X-Men films that have already pitted Wolverine against similar foes like Sabretooth, Lady Deathstrike, and Deadpool. Logan’s inability to avert that trend is one of the biggest detriments to being able to say it was great all the way through, rather than just a good movie that contained some great moments.

Logan movie Wolverine X-23

I’m hardly the first person to talk about these shortcomings in Logan and Wonder Woman, so fans will have some pretty clear and agreeable reasons for why neither film gets Best Picture, if that’s what the Academy decides. But I already know that one of the prevailing talking points would be how both movies were snubbed and that the Academy has once again demonstrated its supposed bias against genre films. That’s what makes the push for superhero movies to win a bit of a frustrating thing to see and hear—good superhero movies with a bit of a fresh twist are getting exalted as great, and then people get upset when level-headed critics acknowledge that there were indeed significantly better movies for the year.

I’m not saying the Academy is undeserving of criticism. As stated earlier, even the members can admit they chose the wrong movie for Best Picture sometimes. Then they may also choose the right movie for the wrong reasons, like going with what they think is the “important” choice rather than what they sincerely enjoyed. After 12 Years a Slave won, the Los Angeles Times reported that two Academy members admitted they had not even watched the film out of fear that it would be upsetting, yet still cast their vote for it to receive Best Picture. And that’s not even getting into the criticism against the Oscars relating to representation, as brought to the forefront by last year’s #OscarsSoWhite backlash. So there are definitely issues worth discussing about the Academy, but I don’t think their treatment of superhero films is one of them right now.

It’s not like I’d be crushed if Logan or Wonder Woman did win. I’d be a bit disappointed that what I believe is the wrong movie would have won, but that’s happened in years past, too. Honestly, I’ll be relieved when a superhero movie does win. It’ll be like when Leonardo DiCaprio finally won Best Actor—there, it happened, now can we finally stop having this conversation every year? I do want a superhero movie to win the award one day, but I’d really rather it be one that actually warrants it. But since The Dark Knight, there just hasn’t been one that is truly worthy of the win. Despite how hasty many are to push for a superhero movie to win, the genre has become complacent, producing movies that are safe and formulaic.

The Academy acknowledges movies that are daring. That can mean harrowing reminders of our history in past winners like 12 Years a Slave and Schindler’s List. Or it can mean action films with quirky heroes fighting against futuristic tyranny as in nominees like Star Wars: Episode IV—A New Hope, and Mad Max: Fury Road. Deadpool, Wonder Woman, and Logan all dared to be a bit different in their own ways, which is why I think people got excited enough about them to want them to get nominated and to win. So fans want superhero movies to be daring too, but all three films ultimately stopped short of achieving the uniqueness  they seemed to promise at the outset, and instead circled back to the conventional by the end of their stories. Even with how much money the genre currently generates, fans are getting burnt out and craving something new. So I can only imagine how worn out the Academy members are, given that they have to watch a lot more movies than the average person. How many times do we really want to see wise-cracking superheroes who spend forty minutes of a movie rehashing an origin story most people already know? How many more CGI monster villains are going to appear with the bland motivation of destroying all humans again?

Since fans and critics alike can agree that the genre is becoming stagnant, I’d like to see people constructively directing their frustration at the movies instead of the Oscars. Stop pushing for comic book movies that are just a fun way to pass a Saturday night to win Best Picture. Instead, push for the movies themselves to do something fresh. We never even would have had The Dark Knight if Christopher Nolan hadn’t taken Batman in a more realistic direction, one that was contrary to so many of the cheesier superhero films that preceded it. So push for directors and writers to tell stories that are more original and don’t follow the comic book movie beats we’ve seen dozens of times by now. When we start getting more movies like that, there won’t even need to be a push for them to be nominated for Best Picture, because their greatness will be too obvious to deny.

Chris Isaac writes for Screen Rant and CBR. His work also includes essays for USA TODAY, talking feminism in games for The Mary Sue, and examining mental illness depictions in the media for Arcadia University’s Compass. If these things interest you, you can follow him on Twitter.

“Nice Outfit!”— Batman (1989) and Batman Returns

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In the twenty years between the cancellation of the Adam West Batman TV series and the release of the Michael Keaton Batman movie, there was a significant backlash against the campy, goofy interpretation of Bruce Wayne’s alter ego. In the comics, creators such as Denny O’Neil & Neal Adams and Steve Englehart & Marshall Rogers returned Batman to his noir roots, emphasizing the character’s status as a creature of the night who strikes fear into the hearts of evil-doers.

This culminated in Frank Miller & Klaus Janson’s 1986 four-issue miniseries The Dark Knight Returns, which chronicled an alternate future of an aging Batman coming out of retirement to continue his fight. A year later, Miller would then join David Mazzucchelli to re-tell Batman’s earliest days in Batman: Year One, a story arc in issues #404-407 of Batman’s monthly title. In both cases, the character was taken to even darker extremes, as far from West’s campy Caped Crusader as possible.

In the wake of this renaissance, Tim Burton was tapped to provide his own interpretation of Batman.

DC had been streamlining their multiverse in the 1980s, trying to revitalize interest in their characters by rebooting them. They turned to the creators of their most successful book of the era—Marv Wolfman & George Pérez, the team behind The New Teen Titans—to create Crisis on Infinite Earths. In the wake of Crisis, characters’ origins were reinterpreted or retold, including John Byrne’s Man of Steel, Pérez’s Wonder Woman, and the aforementioned Batman: Year One.

With both Dark Knight and Year One proving to be immensely popular, it was the perfect time for a new Bat-movie. Fan anticipation was mixed given the names attached, though. Burton was best known for Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure and Beetlejuice, a kid’s movie and a comedy, while star Michael Keaton was known more for his comic chops than his dramatic ones. Fear of a return to William Dozier’s sensibilities were rampant.

Obviously, that didn’t happen…

 

“This town needs an enema.”

Batman
Written by Sam Hamm and Warren Skaaren
Directed by Tim Burton
Produced by Jon Peters and Peter Guber
Original release date: June 23, 1989

We open with a family leaving the theater and trying to find a cab home. They go down an alley hoping to cut across to Seventh Avenue—instead, they’re mugged. While the muggers count their loot on a nearby rooftop, they’re attacked by Batman—after one of the muggers keeps expressing fears of “the bat” to his skeptical partner. Batman instructs the muggers to tell their friends about him after he beats the crap out of them.

Gotham City is celebrating its 200th birthday, and Mayor Borg assures all and sundry that, despite the high crime rate, the planned celebration will happen, and newly elected District Attorney Harvey Dent will put away Boss Carl Grissom, who is responsible for much of the crime in Gotham. In fact, several members of the Gotham City Police Department are on Grissom’s payroll, as we see Lieutenant Eckhart is on the take, dealing with Grissom’s number-two, Jack Napier.

Napier is sleeping with Grissom’s woman. Napier thinks he’s keeping this secret from Grissom, about which he is 100% wrong. Axis Chemical is a front for Grissom’s operation, and there’s a lot of incriminating evidence there. Napier suggests vandalizing the place and “stealing” the files, making it look like industrial espionage. Grissom likes this idea, and has Napier handle it personally—then calls Eckhart to have him arrest Napier while he’s doing this. (Never sleep with the boss’s girlfriend!)

Reporter Alexander Knox has been reporting on “the bat,” even though most people don’t believe he exists and neither Police Commissioner Gordon nor the mayor nor Eckhart will go on the record as admitting there is such a person. However, freelance photographer Vicky Vale arrives at the newspaper office and says she believes Knox and wants to work with him to get the dirt on this vigilante. She has invitations to a fundraiser Bruce Wayne is holding at his mansion to raise money for the bicentennial celebration, and maybe Knox can get Gordon on the record there.

Neither Gordon, nor Dent, nor Borg will go on the record with Knox, but he and Vale do meet Wayne. Wayne and Vale are particularly smitten with each other, but then Wayne’s butler Alfred pulls Wayne aside, saying that Gordon left in a hurry. Using the surveillance he has all over the mansion, he sees Gordon being taken aside by one of his officers, telling him about the tip on Axis Chemicals, and that Eckhart’s leading the charge.

Eckhart tells the cops he brought along to Axis to shoot to kill, but when Gordon shows up, he makes it clear that he wants Napier and the others taken alive. Batman also shows up, and there’s lots of gunplay and craziness, ending with Napier shooting Eckhart, and then Napier falling into a vat of chemicals.

Napier survives his chemical bath, but his skin is turned white, with his hair turned green, and he now has a permanent smile on his face. Already kinda nuts, Napier is now totally binky-bonkers. He kills Grissom, and takes over his organization, as well as those of the other lesser crime bosses. (When one tries to reject his “unity” plan, Napier uses an electrified joy buzzer to kill him.)

Now calling himself “the Joker,” Napier engages in product tampering to go on a murder spree, combinations of various household products resulting in “smilex” gas, which kills and leaves a smile on the victim’s face. (One victim is a news anchor, who dies right on the air.)

Joker sees a picture of Vale and becomes interested in her. For her part, Vale has spent the night at Wayne Manor, having dinner and staying the night, and charming the heck out of both Wayne and Alfred. But Wayne puts her off, saying he’ll be out of town for a while, even though Alfred later says that they’re not going anywhere. Suspicious, Vale follows Wayne, and sees him put flowers in an alley. Knox does some research, and discovers that Wayne’s parents were mugged and killed right in front of him in that alley.

Vale goes to lunch at the Gotham Museum of Art, thinking she’s been invited by Wayne, but it was, in fact, Joker, who gasses the other patrons and then defaces the art before hitting on Vale. Batman rescues her and takes her to the Batcave in the Batmobile, providing her with the products that are killing people.

Later, Wayne visits Vale, trying to tell her that he’s Batman, but they’re interrupted by Joker and his pals. Joker shoots Wayne, but he manages to save himself with a well-placed metal serving tray (good thing Joker didn’t bother to check the body or notice that there was no blood). Before shooting Wayne, Joker asks if he’s ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight—the same thing the person who shot his parents asked him right after killing them. Wayne realizes that Napier killed his parents.

Later, Alfred brings Vale to the Batcave from Wayne Manor, thus revealing to Vale that Batman and Wayne are one and the same.

Due to the terrorizing by the Joker, Borg cancels the bicentennial celebration, but Joker cuts into the broadcast announcement of this, saying that there will be a parade, and he’ll throw it and give everyone money, too!

Sure enough, he throws a parade, with balloons filled with Smilex. Batman uses the Batplane to get rid of the balloons and then shoots at Joker, who is standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Somehow, Batman misses with every shot, yet Joker takes the plane down with one shot from a modified pistol. Sure.

The Batplane crashes. Joker grabs Vale, who is photographing the parade, and brings her to the top of Gotham Cathedral. Batman chases him, and they have a moment where each realizes they created the other—then Joker falls over the side and dies.

Batman has arranged for Gordon to have a bat-symbol he can flash into the air to summon Batman when he’s needed.

 

“Life’s a bitch—now, so am I.”

Batman Returns
Written by Daniel Waters and Sam Hamm
Directed by Tim Burton
Produced by Tim Burton and Denise Di Novi
Original release date: June 19, 1992

Christmas in Gotham City, and the Cobblepot family has a child named Oswald who is hideous. A year later, when the child—who is kept in a cage—eats the family cat alive, his parents take his stroller and drop it into the river. The stroller floats through the sewers, eventually arriving at a spot that is filled with penguins.

Thirty-three years later, there are rumors of a strange penguin creature roaming the sewers of Gotham. The new mayor meets with industrialist Max Schreck, who wants to create a new power plant. The mayor balks, and Schreck threatens him with a recount of his electoral victory; he has enough employees who will sign the petition to call for that recount.

In the midst of a Christmas tree lighting, the so-called Red Triangle Gang—a bunch of former circus folk—attacks. Gordon lights the Bat-signal, and Batman is able to take down most of the gang (including saving Schreck’s mousy assistant Selina Kyle from a guy in a clown suit). However, Schreck is kidnapped by the now-all-grown-up Oswald Cobblepot, who goes by Penguin, and wants to be a person like everyone else. Penguin is also in charge of the Red Triangle Gang. Schreck refuses until Penguin shows him all the blackmail material he’s collected (including the body of Schreck’s former business partner, as well as pieced-together documents that Schreck had shredded). Penguin then stages a “rescue” of the mayor’s infant son during a press conference. Penguin becomes the darling of Gotham after that heroic act, and goes to the Hall of Records to figure out who he is. (While doing so, he also writes down the names of all the first-born sons of Gotham’s elite.)

Kyle goes into the office to prep for a meeting Schreck is having with Wayne to discuss his power plant notion. Kyle was able to get into Schreck’s secure files (she figured out his password, which was the name of his dog; good security, there, Schreck!), and she learns that the power plant will actually take power away from the city and line Schreck’s pockets. Schreck’s response to this security breach is to throw Kyle out a window. She lands in an alley where she is surrounded by cats who bring her back from the dead, er, somehow.

She goes home, trashes her apartment, putting her stuffed animals into the disposal, trashing her dollhouse and sweet furnishing, and shattering the O and the T in her neon sign that says, “HELLO THERE” so now it reads, “HELL HERE.” She also cobbles together a cat costume from an old raincoat.

Schreck’s meeting with Wayne is less fruitful than he’d hoped, and the mayor still isn’t on his side, so he decides to go through with his recount plan, and he props up Penguin as a new candidate. To help solidify his candidacy, Penguin has the Red Triangle Gang go on a rampage. At the same time, Kyle blows up one of Shreck’s department stores. Batman stops the Red Triangle Gang and also fights Kyle on a rooftop, during which both of them are injured.

Now calling herself Catwoman, Kyle goes to visit Penguin, proposing that they team up to stop Batman. Penguin is more interested in getting Catwoman into bed, but he goes along with the notion of turning Batman into a bad guy. He also has gotten his hands on the specs for the Batmobile, er, somehow and plans to use Batman’s car against him. Penguin then publicly challenges the mayor to re-light the Christmas tree.

Wayne and Kyle bump into each other, and Wayne invites Kyle to Wayne Manor to watch the tree re-lighting. They wind up smooching on the couch, each nervous about the other seeing their respective scars from the rooftop fight. Penguin uses a batarang that one of the Red Triangle Gang snagged during the riot and uses it to frame Batman for the kidnapping of the woman who will light the tree. Seeing that, Wayne makes excuses to Kyle and leaves; Kyle also makes excuses and beats a retreat. Batman tries to rescue the woman, but Penguin kills her instead. When Batman gets into the Batmobile to leave, Penguin takes control of it remotely, sending it careening down the street out of control, further sullying Batman’s reputation. Batman records Penguin’s gloating on a CD while he tries to regain control of the car.

Eventually, Batman removes the remote control device and drives back home. As Penguin gives a press conference condemning the mayor’s inability to keep control of the city, Wayne and Alfred broadcast Penguin’s gloating about how he’s playing the city like a harp from hell, which turns public opinion against him.

Penguin retreats to his underground lair and enacts Plan B. While Schreck is throwing a party for Gotham’s rich and decadent, the Red Triangle Gang steals their first-born children. Wayne and Kyle are both attending the party, and they quickly realize each others’ other identities. (“Oh my God—does this mean we have to start fighting?” Kyle asks plaintively.) Penguin crashes the party before things can get too much more awkward. Penguin tries to kidnap Schreck’s son, but Schreck convinces Penguin to take him instead.

Batman is able to rescue the kids and capture the Red Triangle Gang, sending the organ grinder’s monkey back with a note for Penguin. So Penguin sends a mess of penguins to Gotham Plaza armed with missiles. However, Batman and Alfred jam Penguin’s signal and send the penguins back to the underground headquarters. Even as Batman confronts Penguin, Catwoman shows up to confront Schreck. In the end, both Penguin and Schreck are dead, Penguin’s HQ is destroyed, and Catwoman is still roaming around, despite having been shot several times and electrocuting herself with Schreck. (She supposedly has nine lives, because that’s totally how that works.)

 

“I’m Batman!”

Despite the worries about the people who made Beetlejuice, the director of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse and the star of Mr. Mom, making a Batman movie, 1989 turned out to be the year that everyone went bat-crazy. The film was a huge phenomenon, a massive success that spawned three sequels.

Too bad it’s not a better movie.

There are aspects of the ’89 Batman that are excellent. For starters, the visuals are simply superb. Burton’s Art Deco approach to Gotham City was hugely influential, informing every interpretation of the city that’s been seen on screen since, up to and including the current Gotham TV series. Danny Elfman’s musical score was also fantastic. I’d argue that the best screen interpretation of Batman ever done was the Bruce Timm-produced animated series from the early 1990s, and that series’ visual feel was 100% inspired by Burton’s visuals and Elfman’s music (Elfman wrote the theme song for the series, and his protégé, the great Shirley Walker, provided the show’s brilliant incidental music). Both these first two movies and the animated series seem to take place in a world where it never stopped being the 1930s, with men wearing hats and cameras with big flashes that pop and old-fashioned microphones and such, yet still with modern technology of the late 1980s and early 1990s. It’s a great look for the series, acknowledging the character’s late 1930s roots.

There’s some fine acting here, as the Michaels Keaton and Gough are a great double act as Batman and Alfred, Robert Wuhl is fun as Knox—he’s pretty much our POV character for the first third of the film—and it’s always fun to watch Jack Palance chew the scenery as Grissom.

Unfortunately, the compliments end there on the performance score. Kim Basinger creates absolutely no impression in the wholly pointless role of Vale, Pat Hingle creates even less of one as Gordon, and then we have the guy with top billing.

I won’t say Jack Nicholson is a total disaster, because his Jack Napier is actually very effective. But once he falls into the vat and becomes the Joker, he’s just mugging for the camera. It’s a surface performance of prancing about and acting doofy and just not being very interesting. Some of his line deliveries are great (the script provides him with some superb one-liners that he nails), but the role is ultimately little more than that. There’s no sense of character, of menace. Cesar Romero before him and Heath Ledger and especially the brilliant Mark Hamill after him did far more, much more effectively with the part.

The plot itself is rather incoherent. (The film was a victim of a writers strike, which kept the film from getting the rewrites it so desperately needed.) Joker does things because the script calls for it, but there’s no rhyme or reason, nor is the lack of rhyme or reason played up particularly well. Changing Batman’s origin so that Napier killed the Waynes has possibilities, but aside from one verbal confrontation at the end, absolutely nothing is done with this thematic alteration, thus making it a waste of time. And the romance with Vale is lifeless. The chemistry between Keaton and Basinger is fine, but not enough to justify the grand romance the script in general and Alfred in particular keep insisting it is, and Alfred revealing his secret strikes me as absurd and overreaching. (The sequel actually cops to this, with Wayne giving Alfred a hard time about just letting Vale waltz into the Batcave unexpectedly.)

The sequel is better on every possible level. For starters, both Penguin and Catwoman are characters instead of caricatures. There’s a level of tragedy to both Cobblepot and Kyle, and Danny DeVito and especially Michelle Pfeiffer are able to bring nuance to the roles that Nicholson can’t be bothered with.

Neither can Christopher Walken. His Schreck is the connecting tissue between the otherwise barely related Catwoman and Penguin stories (truly the two barely have anything to do with each other, and the scene where they team up feels horribly grafted on), but he’s so straight-up evil that it’s hard to get worked up over the character’s ups and downs.

Still, Pfeiffer in particular makes the film. Part of me wishes they had just stuck with the one bad guy, as the film is a little too overlong and overcrowded—in a lot of ways, this is two separate movies, the Batman vs. Catwoman movie and the Batman vs. Penguin movie, and both plots might have benefited from more storytelling space. Having said that, at least the two plots follow along sensibly, even if Kyle’s supernatural abilities never get any kind of proper explanation. Cobblepot’s desire for acceptance in the above-ground world, and his resentment of that world, Kyle’s rebirth and renewal, and Batman’s attempts to keep the city safe all work very nicely. The only real misstep is that the attempt to frame him never really goes anywhere, nor does it have any consequences.

Where both films have serious issues is with the fight choreography, which is mostly due to a problem with costuming. Keaton (and Keaton’s stunt double) can’t even turn his head without pivoting his torso in the costume, and it makes the character’s movements choppy and unconvincing. Batman’s physical prowess is rarely in evidence, and when it is, it’s not very impressive. Catwoman’s acrobatics are much better done though, again, there’s no explanation as to how Kyle suddenly is an Olympic-level gymnast…

Despite the general distancing from the 1966 TV series, there are callbacks to the show in both films, from Joker trashing the art gallery (reminiscent of “Pop Goes the Joker” / “Flop Goes the Joker“) to Penguin running for mayor (as he did in “Hizzoner the Penguin” / “Dizzoner the Penguin,” and the character would do so again in Gotham). Paul Reubens also cameos as Penguin’s father in the opening of Returns, and he’ll be back as Penguin’s Dad in Gotham as well.

Neither Burton nor Keaton would return for the third film, and next week we’ll take a look at what Joel Schumacher, Val Kilmer, and George Clooney did with the part.

Keith R.A. DeCandido‘s latest book is Marvel’s Thor: Tales of Asgard, an omnibus of his trilogy of novels starring Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three, due out in October.

“Chicks dig the car”— Batman Forever and Batman & Robin

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While Batman was a huge hit in the summer of 1989—against some stiff competition, including Lethal Weapon 2, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Dead Poets Society, Back to the Future Part II, Ghostbusters II, and The Little Mermaid, among others—Batman Returns was considered a box office disappointment, grossing considerably less. Warner Bros. shook things up, asking Tim Burton to step aside (though he still produced the next film) and assigning Joel Schumacher to take over the directorial reins.

Where Burton was at least partly inspired by the darker Batman comics of the 1970s and 1980s, Schumacher went back to the 1950s comics and the 1960s TV show for inspiration, eschewing the dark knight and embracing the caped crusader.

With Burton’s departure, Michael Keaton stepped down, disliking the lighter tone, replaced by Val Kilmer, who took the role without reading the script. Despite the stated disappointment with Returns, which had two villains, they had two villains in this one, too, re-casting Harvey Dent with Tommy Lee Jones, replacing Billy Dee Williams—who’d been cast in the 1989 film for the express purpose of coming back later as Two-Face—and with Jim Carrey as the Riddler. Chris O’Donnell was brought in as Robin.

Batman Forever did well enough to green-light a fourth film almost immediately, but Kilmer and Schumacher apparently did not get along particularly well, plus the accelerated schedule meant a conflict with Kilmer, who had taken the title role in The Saint. Kilmer was replaced by George Clooney, who teamed up with O’Donnell and Alicia Silverstone as Batgirl to face three villains: Mr. Freeze (Arnold Schwarzeneggar), Poison Ivy (Uma Thurman), and Bane (Robert “Jeep” Swenson). This combo proved less than efficacious and this particular series—which were all part of the same continuity, but with only Michael Gough as Alfred and Pat Hingle as Gordon being in all four of them—ended with 1997’s Batman & Robin.

 

“Was that over the top? I can never tell…”

Batman Forever
Written by Lee Batchler & Janet Scott Batchler and Akiva Goldsman
Directed by Joel Schumacher
Produced by Tim Burton and Peter MacGregor-Scott
Original release date: June 16, 1995

The Bat-signal shines in the night sky, as Two-Face has hit the Second National Bank on the second anniversary of the first time Batman captured him. Gordon has brought in a shrink, Dr. Chase Meridian, and she flirts inappropriately with Batman in the middle of a crime. Two-Face locks a guard in a vault, and uses him as bait for Batman, who tries to rescue the guard. Two-Face then closes the vault door and pulls it out a hole in the wall, intending to carry it off with a helicopter while filling it with the same acid that scarred half of Harvey Dent’s face, turning him into Two-Face.

Using the guard’s hearing aid to help hear the tumblers, Batman opens the vault door. How he heard anything through his cowl is left as an exercise for the viewer. He is able to return the vault and the guard to the bank and then saves himself, though Two-Face escapes.

Later, Bruce Wayne tours one of his scientific facilities, where he meets Edward Nygma, who has developed something that can project images into people’s brainwaves. Nygma hero-worships Wayne, so he’s crestfallen when Wayne decides his research is too dangerous and refuses to continue to fund it. Nygma is devastated, and he not only continues his work, but when his supervisor discovers him continuing it, Nygma kills him—but not until after he absorbs his mental energy into himself, making him cleverer, supposedly.

Nygma alters the security footage and forges a suicide note so everyone thinks he killed himself. Nygma quits, feigning devastation at the loss of a colleague. He then goes on to form “NygmaTech,” using his brainwave doodads to create convincing holographs that are beamed directly into people’s brains. The Nygma Boxes are a huge hit, and Nygma is also using them to absorb brainwaves the way he did with his erstwhile boss, making himself allegedly smarter. Nygma also leaves riddles for Wayne.

Two-Face continues his reign of terror. At one point, the bat-signal goes off and then Two-Face chases the Batmobile. It’s unclear what happened to prompt the bat-signal in the first place, but Batman gets away from Two-Face easily. Meridian also uses the bat-signal to summon Batman so she can flirt with him some more. Wayne decides to consult Meridian about the riddles he’s received, and he also invites her to a charity circus.

At the circus, Two-Face attacks right after the Grayson family do their trapeze act. Two-Face wants Batman to show himself, and he’s put two hundred sticks of TNT in a wrecking ball. Wayne manages to take out some of the thugs in his civvies. Dick Grayson manages to toss the wrecking ball into the river, but his parents and brother are killed by Two-Face in the meantime.

Grayson is devastated. Wayne offers to take him in, and Grayson agrees long enough to satisfy Gordon, but then he plans to leave—right up until he sees Wayne’s car and motorcycle collection and Alfred’s cooking skills…

Nygma, having taken on the persona of “the Riddler,” discovers Two-Face’s lair and shows him the brain-sucking technology. Two-Face is (naturally) of two minds about whether or not he should kill Riddler, but as usual he lets his coin decide, and it comes up heads, so they team up. (For some reason, the coin is a regular coin with tails scratched up. This makes little sense, as the whole point is that Two-Face is two sides of the same coin, which is why he flips a two-headed coin, one of which is scarred. It symbolizes his duality. That the filmmakers don’t even get the basic symbolism of Two-Face is endemic of the issues these two movies have……)

Grayson wants revenge on Two-Face. Wayne refuses to help him. Grayson discovers the Batcave and takes the Batmobile out for a spin, trying and failing to be Batman before the real McCoy shows up. Grayson wants to be Batman’s partner, but Wayne refuses, going so far as to give up being Batman rather than let Grayson risk his life.

Riddler and Two-Face go on a robbery spree that Batman basically ignores. Nygma’s launch of NygmaTech also goes unchallenged, and it’s such a huge financial success that one wonders why he needs to also rob banks and jewelry stores and such.

Wayne talks to Meridian about some suppressed memories he has of his parents’ death, and also flirts with her, but she’s only interested in Batman. Later, when Batman comes to her apartment, she greets him dressed only in a bedsheet, kisses him, and then realizes that she actually is fond of Wayne. When Batman leaves and turns away, he smiles.

Nygma holds a party for the launch of NygmaTech, and he uses his tech to scan the brain patterns of the guests, including Wayne. They’re interrupted by Two-Face breaking in and robbing the guests. Afterward, Riddler reveals that Wayne’s brain is completely filled with images of bats.

Meridian and Wayne have dinner, and when they kiss, Meridian realizes that Wayne is Batman. This revelation is interrupted by Two-Face and Riddler attacking Wayne Manor, kidnapping Meridian, shooting Wayne (only a grazing shot to his scalp), and trashing the Batcave. Grayson and Alfred nurse him back to health, and Grayson puts on a costume based on his circus outfit, and calls himself “Robin” after a nickname he had in the circus. Batman and Alfred deduce that Riddler is Nygma, and Batman and Robin head to the island NygmaTech bought, in the Bat-plane and the Bat-boat (the only two vehicles left after Riddler trashed the place).

Robin is captured, but Batman manages to break Riddler’s machine, which overloads his brain, and rescue both Robin and Meridian. Two-Face is about to shoot them when Batman reminds him to flip the coin first. Two-Face thanks him for the reminder, but as he flips it, Batman throws several coins in the air, confusing Two-Face, and as he flails, he falls to his doom.

Batman and Robin continue to fight crime, while Meridian wonders if dating a superhero is such a hot idea.

 

“This is why Superman works alone…”

Batman & Robin
Written by Akiva Goldsman
Directed by Joel Schumacher
Produced by Peter MacGregor-Scott
Original release date: June 20, 1997

Batman and Robin suit up, with the camera taking in loving closeups of the rubber nipples on both men’s suits, as well as their crotches and asses. They’ve been summoned because there’s a new super-villain in Gotham: Mr. Freeze, who is stealing a very large diamond. Batman and Robin try to stop him, but they keep being sidetracked by Freeze’s thugs, who are numerous and all apparently trained in martial arts. Freeze gets away when he freezes Robin and Batman is forced to stay behind and save his partner rather than chase Freeze.

Some research reveals that Mr. Freeze is, in fact, Dr. Victor Fries, whose wife came down with a rare disease. He froze her cryogenically while he searched for a cure, but he fell into a vat of cryonic fluid which means he only can survive in sub-zero temperatures. It also made him binky bonkers crazy. However, he’s still searching for a cure for his wife, and he spends his spare time watching old movies of their wedding and such.

In South America, Dr. Pamela Isley and Dr. Jason Woodrue are doing experiments for Wayne Enterprises. Isley is trying to make plants robust enough to survive on their own without human help, while Woodrue has been stealing Isley’s work in order to create “venom,” which he uses to create Bane, a not-too-bright superman. Woodrue has also been keeping the fact that Wayne shut down the project from Isley. When Bane goes nuts and trashes the place, Isley threatens to expose Woodrue, so Woodrue kills her—or so he thinks. Instead, the toxins and venoms she’s been working with mix with the soil and the plants and turn her into Poison Ivy. She has pheromones that can ensorcel any man to her will and her lips are coated in poison so a kiss kills. She kills Woodrue, gets Bane to do her bidding, er, somehow, and they fly to Gotham City.

During the opening of a new Gotham Observatory—which will use a large telescope and a network of satellites to not only look into space, but also at places all over the globe—Isley confronts Wayne, who rebuffs her. When she points out that Mother Nature will always prevail and nobody will protect them, the crowd laughs at her and says Batman and Robin will protect Gotham always, prompting Isley to want to take them down.

Alfred’s niece Barbara is visiting from Oxbridge, though it is soon revealed that she got kicked out of the university. Her parents were killed in a car crash, and her way of acting out was to go on underground motorcycle races. Grayson follows her to one of those races and joins it, saving her life when one contestant cheats.

Barbara also knows something Grayson doesn’t, though Wayne has figured it out: Alfred is dying. What’s worse, Fries found a cure for what ails Alfred, but he never published his findings before he went nuts.

In order to lure Freeze into the open, Wayne Enterprises hosts an event that has the Wayne diamond collection as its centerpiece, with Batman and Robin as special guests. But Ivy shows up first, and uses her pheromones to seduce both Batman and Robin, which leads to them fighting over her.

However, the love triangle is interrupted by Freeze, who steals the diamond from Ivy. (Freeze is immune to her pheromones.) Batman and Robin give chase, though Batman stops Robin from doing something particularly dangerous. Batman captures Freeze, who is sent to Arkham Asylum. Ivy and Bane break him out, killing several guards. She retrieves his equipment and unplugs Freeze’s wife’s cryochamber, not interested in the competition, though she later tells Freeze that Batman did it.

Robin is still obsessed with Ivy, convinced that Batman is jealous because she loves Robin and not Batman. Meanwhile, Alfred’s condition is deteriorating. He gives Barbara a CD with instructions for his brother Wilfred, but Barbara goes ahead and reads the CD herself, discovering that Wayne and Grayson are really Batman and Robin. Alfred anticipated her doing so, and created a bat-suit for her. She puts it on, and we get loving views of her boobs, crotch, and ass as she does so.

Wayne convinces Grayson to trust him that Ivy is dangerous and only wants to kiss him to kill him. So he goes to her when she summons him, but wears rubber lips to protect himself. Sure enough, she announces that the kiss she just gave him will result in death, making Robin realize that their love is a sham. He and Batman attack Ivy, but her plants imprison both of them. However, Barbara—in costume and calling herself Batgirl—attacks Ivy and takes care of her. Ivy revealed to Robin that Freeze plans to put the entirety of Gotham on ice from the observatory. Batman isn’t thrilled that Barbara has forced herself onto the team, but he gives in, and the three of them change into polar uniforms and try to stop Freeze—while the villain succeeds in freezing all of Gotham, our heroes are able to reverse the process by using the telescope and the satellites to, basically, beam sunlight from the other side of the world onto Gotham.

Robin and Batgirl are able to stop Bane by knocking his hoses out. Batman is able to save the two scientists working the telescope, whom Freeze froze, and then convinces Freeze that Ivy was the one who pulled the plug on his wife—but also that she’s still alive, as they were able to restore her cryochamber. Batman promises to let him work on his wife’s condition in Arkham Asylum in exchange for the cure to Alfred’s disease. Freeze agrees. As an added bonus, Ivy is his cell mate, and he intends to torment the hell out of her for trying to kill his wife.

Alfred is cured. Wayne reluctantly lets Batgirl join the team. Alfred opines that they’re going to need a bigger cave.

 

“If I must suffer, humanity will suffer with me!”

I was on WBAI-FM’s Hour of the Wolf radio show recently, and a bunch of us were discussing Star Trek Discovery. Akiva Goldsman is one of the executive producers of the show, and he cowrote the first episode and directed the third. One of the other panelists, movie critic Dan Persons (who had only seen “The Vulcan Hello,” and was not impressed), opined that Goldsman might well kill Star Trek the way he killed Batman.

While I disagree with the larger point, Goldsman did the dark knight no favors. These two movies didn’t actually kill Batman. For starters, the character has continued unabated in his original form of comic books. Batman has appeared in at least one, and often two or three, comics per month consistently since 1939. And while Goldsman’s awful scripts for these two movies helped kill this particular series of movies (a planned fifth film, Batman Unchained, was scrapped due to the overwhelmingly negative response to Batman & Robin), the next Bat-film would come along eight years later and be one of the most popular and impressive screen adaptations of the character ever done.

So no, Goldsman didn’t kill Batman.

But man, did he and Joel Schumacher do some serious damage.

My impression upon reawtching these two movies is the same one I had in the mid-1990s when I saw them the first time: these two movies have absolutely no relationship to the human condition. There are no people in this movie, only cackling caricatures. Goldsman’s dialogue is uniformly awful, the plots are overstuffed, overcrowded, and incoherent, the lines meant to be funny are groan-inducing, and the attempts at in-depth characterization are half-hearted and lame. In Tim Burton’s movies, Batman was a mysterious vigilante who was needed to keep a corrupt town in order. In Schumacher’s, he’s the celebrity hero that we saw Adam West play—he’s even got an American Express card! (Quite possibly the stupidest moment in any superhero film is when Batman declares that he never leaves the cave without it.)

With every single villain—Two-Face, Riddler, Mr. Freeze, Poison Ivy, Bane—they took a complex character from the comics (or from the animated series in Freeze’s case, as they used the Victor Fries backstory Paul Dini & Bruce Timm came up with for the “Heart of Ice” episode) and made him or her significantly less interesting.

Bane was an intelligent, clever adversary who actually defeated Batman so thoroughly that someone else had to take his place. (Tom Hardy’s version in The Dark Knight Rises was much closer to the source material, albeit with whitewashed casting.) Goldsman & Schumacher turned him into Universal’s Frankenstein monster, a barely sentient thug.

Poison Ivy was a plant-lover who took that love to its criminal extreme, but who actually had some depth to her passions. In the hands of Uma Thurman—who can act, though you’d never know it from this film—she’s turned into a broad cartoon, a low-rent version of Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman only without the gravitas or the depth.

Riddler is utterly unrecognizable here, as there’s no interest in doing the character from the comics, instead doing Ace Riddlura, Bat Detective—the character was suborned to Jim Carrey doing his OTT goofball act.

Mr. Freeze winds up being this weird combination of the wisecracking loons we saw in the 1966 series (particularly Otto Preminger’s interpretation) and Michael Ansara’s version in the animated series. But Freeze’s awful cold puns (and they’re simply endless) and the absurdity of his entire setup (how does he pay for this? why is he smoking a cigar in sub-zero temperatures? an ascot? seriously?) ruin the pathos of his love for his dying wife.

But the worst, the absolute worst, sin committed by any Bat-film in history is the travesty done to Two-Face.

First of all, what a friggin waste of Tommy Lee Jones! Here we have an actor who truly could successfully portray the duality of Two-Face, the constant war between his good and bad halves. But instead, he’s doing Joker lite, pure goofball mugging for the camera, and while it’s more effective than Nicholson’s turn in the 1989 film, Jones just can’t keep up with Carrey’s rubber-faced antics.

And we know Jones could pull off a more complex portrayal of Harvey Dent because he does it for about half a second at the very end of the film. The bit at the end when Batman reminds him to flip the coin and Harvey thanks him for being a good friend—that’s the only time in the entire damn movie that we see Harvey Dent as opposed to Two-Face (inexplicably referred to as “Harvey Two-Face” throughout), and we have to sit through an entire movie of Carrey and Jones cackling at each other endlessly before we get the character we were promised.

Our two new leading men are perfectly fine. Neither of them does enough to differentiate Batman from Bruce Wayne. Val Kilmer is completely adequate, but his calm hero persona is a letdown after the more nuanced performance Michael Keaton attempted.

As for George Clooney, he has very generously taken all the blame for Batman & Robin‘s failure, and he has taken a lot of heat for his work here, but honestly? Aside from Michael Gough, who is his usual superb self, he’s the only person actually acting in this movie. Everyone else is posturing or posing or overacting or just being very bad at their jobs. Clooney at least creates a convincing persona, particularly when he’s Wayne. Back in 1995, during promotional interviews for Batman Forever, Schumacher said that with actors this good, he didn’t have to direct anyone. Well, Joel, we can tell, as you’ve presented us with some of the worst performances of the careers of Jones, Thurman, John Glover (dementedly awful as Woodrue), Alicia Silverstone (completely pointless as Batgirl), Drew Barrymore, and Debi Mazar (the latter as Two-Face’s light and dark molls, both dreadful).

I didn’t include Chris O’Donnell in that list, because I’m still waiting for a good performance from O’Donnell. (He’s the main reason why I find NCIS: Los Angeles to be unwatchable.) His Robin is abominable. Worse, the character serves absolutely no function. If you remove Robin from either film, not a single significant thing changes. He’s utterly superfluous.

Back in 1995, I wondered why the movie was called Batman Forever, and upon watching it, I discovered the reason: that’s how long it takes. Both these movies are horrendously paced, seemingly taking ages and ages so that you’re squirming in your seat wondering when the nightmare will finally end.

Burton’s movies were flawed, but they were Citizen Kane compared to these two misbegotten disasters.

Next week, we’ll go back to the 1970s and the two TV-movies that kicked off Marvel’s biggest 20th-century success in the world of adaptation: The Incredible Hulk.

Keith R.A. DeCandido is working on a project that involves Poison Ivy. But it’s the comics version, thank goodness…

Stranger Things Season 2 Wants to Redefine the 1980s SFF Action Heroine

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Stranger Things, Eleven and Kali

Homaging the best and brightest of 1980s cinema is central to the framework of Stranger Things. The Duffer Brothers made this clear in season one of their Netflix series, and since then have stacked the deck with shoutouts and parallels to a ridiculously large assortment of media. Many of these references are tidy and easy to sync up—here, a reference to Tremors. There, a passing glimpse of E.T. the Extraterrestrial. Over there, it’s Stand By Me. But there is one particular aspect of the show that seems to have bloomed in the most recent season: a steady reinvention of the 1980s sci-fi and fantasy heroines that we all know and love.

[Spoilers for Stranger Things Season 2.]

On the genre side of 80s pop culture, films and media tended to revolve around two types of female characters. I will call them the Woman/Girl Something Happens To and the Woman/Girl Who Refuses to Let Something Happen to Her. It may seem like an oversimplification, but it’s a clear delineation that makes all the difference in how a female character is portrayed. The first types are often girlfriends and sisters, women who stumble into the plot and can’t seem to make their way out of it. The second type is more often a maternal figure with someone or something to protect, a woman who has to grab hold of the situation with both hands and wrestle to the floor. Here are a few handy examples:

Woman/Girl Something Happens To: Kate in Gremlins; Andy and Stef in The Goonies; Jennifer in the Back to the Future Trilogy; Willie Scott in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom; the Childlike Empress in The Neverending Story; Rachel in Blade Runner; Vicky Vale in Batman.

Woman/Girl Who Refuses to Let Something Happen to Her: Ellen Ripley in the Alien series; Sarah Connor in The Terminator series; Sarah Williams in Labyrinth; Leia Organa in the Star Wars saga; Marion Ravenwood in Raiders of the Lost Ark; Diane Freeling in Poltergeist.

Sarah Conner, Terminator 2

It is important to note that the most successful versions of “Woman Who Refuses” typically involve a journey from one end of this spectrum to the other—the woman (or girl) begins by allowing things to happen, then gets so fed up with the status quo that she does everything she can to break that cycle. This is particularly true for Sarah Connor, for Ellen Ripley, for Diane Freeling and Sarah Williams. These arcs are successful because they resonate in a more realistic manner, highlighting the concept of coming into one’s power. They create a model for others and that model has carried forward into much of the media we see today.

What’s disappointing about the “Woman Who Refuses” trope is the fact that these characters are often maternal figures, or have to become maternal figures in order to recognize that power. Ripley starts off fighting for her own survival, but becomes a surrogate mother to Newt in Aliens, Sarah Connor’s entire journey centers around the fact that her future son will lead an important resistance that she has to prepare him for, Diane Freeling is trying to save her daughter from a supernatural threat, even Sarah Williams’s journey takes on a maternal sheen as she takes responsibility for her infant half-brother’s well-being. While motherhood is a wonderful thing, and there’s nothing wrong with discovering strength in it, its portrayal being so common reads as though women can only discover strength through maternal bonds.

Ripley, Aliens

Enter Stranger Things.

Stranger Things solidifies and mutates this 80s pop culture trend by stacking their deck with Ripleys and Sarah Connors. In fact, the only girl in the whole story who could easily be labeled a “Girl Something Happens To” is Barb Holland, whose demise serves as the forward momentum for all of Nancy Wheeler’s actions in the second season of the show. In fact, by killing Barb off—an action that was rightly met with upset and anger from the Stranger Things fandom when her death was not meaningfully addressed in season one—the show is making it clear that it has no room at all for women and girls who let things happen. This universe only has room for the ones who are determined to create their own destinies, who are going to pick up the Big Gun or the mecha suit or a string of Christmas lights taped to the wall and do something.

This is particularly fascinating because there are actually a few men and boys in the Stranger Things narrative who are permitted passivity without sacrificing their place in the story. Will Byers is perpetually stuck in this role, forever the kid who is trapped or possessed or unconscious, and desperate to be free of that burden. His brother Jonathan often requires a push from others to get going, and generally prefers to remain in the background of things. Murray Bauman, the journalist-turned-conpiracy-theorist, eventually is run out of town by Sheriff Hopper, only to be lucky enough to have the story he was searching for dumped into his lap by Nancy and Jonathan. Steve Harrington spends a good portion of the second season waiting for others to drag him into the action, and only finds his footing again while playing babysitter to Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. The rules are different for men here, as they often are in fiction; more nuance, more choices, more ups and downs that come from always being the default perspective and existing in greater numbers.

Stranger Things, Joyce

For the women of Stranger Things, their struggles confirm their existence in the story, and their choice to fight against those struggles determine their continued role in it. Joyce Byers spends the entire first season in the throes of deep paranoia and terror, trying to reach her son in a parallel reality where he is being held captive. By the second season, she has her son back and is clearly suffering from the events of the previous season, constantly fretting over Will’s whereabouts and health. When it seems that Joyce’s role in the story is waning, the shock provided by a strange shadow on Will’s video recording of Halloween launches her back into that same frenetic energy that carried her through the first season. From that point on, Joyce has purpose—to free her son from the tendrils of the Upside Down. She nearly kills Will in an effort to separate the shadow from his body, but when Jonathan tries to stop her, she insists that he step aside. Joyce Byers is at her most interesting and effective when she’s consumed by that single-minded focus.

At first glance, this reads as a rehash of everything that 80s genre films already did because Joyce is a mother. Her determination to keep Will safe is very much like Sarah Connor’s nerve, Ripley’s resolve, Diane Freeling’s stubbornness. Joyce is driven by that maternal sense of purpose, one that she extends to Eleven in the first season as well. But these journeys play out differently for other women in the story who do not occupy that maternal space. Nancy Wheeler spends the second season of the show obsessed with getting justice for her dead friend. She stops caring about her popular jock boyfriend, her schoolwork, the thoughts of her classmates, and dedicates herself to finding a way to make certain that Barb’s parents can have some form of closure. Nancy’s competence continues to be drilled home even after she and Jonathan have taken their story to Murray Bauman. When everyone has gathered at the Byers residence to help Will, and Sheriff Hopper is handing out guns to defend themselves against an army of demogorgons, he offers a rifle to Jonathan, who balks at the idea of using a firearm. Nancy, clearly aggravated that she was not considered, tells Hopper that she can handle the gun and proceeds to use it effectively. Barb’s death is ultimately what turns Nancy into a “Girl Who Refuses,” the loss of a friend rather than the need to fight on behalf of a child.

Stranger Things, Kali and the gang

The introduction of Kali (or Eight, as she was called in Hawkins Lab) serves as another example of a woman asserting her power, in this case by enacting her own form of vigilante justice. Kali and her crew spend their time hunting down people who have done them wrong and eliminating them one by one. Moreover, her decision to act violently toward people who have been violent to others is not one that the narrative condemns her for. In fact, when Eleven prevents her from killing a man who tortured them both in Hawkins Lab, Kali tells Eleven: “If you wanted to show mercy, that’s your choice. But don’t you ever take away mine. Ever.” While she appreciates the choices that others make, she will not bend to anyone else’s opinion on the matter. She also coaches Eleven to use her own powers more effectively, which helps set her “sister” on her own road. Kali’s decision to live outside society’s acceptable bubble is part of what gives her power, and she does it on behalf of herself and her found family.

Maxine’s journey is one of self-protection. Coming from a household with a step-father and step-brother who are both abusive and erratic, Max’s prime concern is carving out a safe place for herself in Hawkins, Indiana. It begins by attempting to join “the party,” as the show’s D&D-playing core group like to call themselves. The boys handle this attempt horribly across the board; Lucas and Dustin both have crushes on Max, but are unwilling to go against Mike’s wishes and tell her everything that happened to them last year, Mike is grieving Eleven (whom he believes to be dead), and treats Max as an interloper who is attempting to take the “girl spot” in their group. None of the boys come out looking good as they constantly shut Max out over and over. Eventually Lucas breaks the silence and tells her everything, despite the pile-on he gets from Dustin and Mike for breaking their rules. Max is finally a member of a group of friends, which she desperately needs. But it’s not until she sticks her step-brother Billy with a sedative and threatens him with a nail-filled baseball bat that she finally gains control of her life. It’s finally her turn to take charge, stealing her brother’s car and driving the boys (and an unconscious Steve) to the tunnels so they can help Eleven in her final task.

Stranger Things, Eleven

Eleven herself has the hardest path to walk, one mired with abusive paternal figures. Her time in Hawkins Lab at the hands of Martin Brenner (whom she is told to call ‘Papa’) sees her as the focus of a set of experiments surrounding her telekinesis. The first season focuses on her escape and discovery of a group of friends when she bonds with “the party.” Eleven appears to die saving her friends, but reemerges from the Upside Down to be found by Sheriff Hopper… who essentially imprisons her again. While it is understandable that Hopper wants to keep her safe, his strict rules surrounding her movements are still ultimately cruel, and his inability to handle her upset at being confined like a prisoner is even worse. Eleven learns that her mother is still alive and makes the choice to run away, finding her mother first, and then Kali. While she enjoys the time she gets to spend with her lab sister, a sense of responsibility to her friends back in Hawkins leads to her return, and Kali’s training helps her to seal the gate to the Upside Down. Realizing her own strength and making the choice to come back gives Eleven more say in her life, and makes her the most important force in the show’s narrative.

Just like the greatest 80s heroines before them, all of these women start from a place of inaction. They begin as the one Something Happens To, and slowly start refusing those circumstances to become agents of their own fate. And perhaps most importantly, they don’t all have to be in a position of maternal protection to become these heroes. Watching them correct their own courses and demand to be seen and heard is a part of what makes Stranger Things compelling, despite its reliance on nostalgia and familiar themes.

Stranger Things, Max

While it isn’t necessarily fair to insist that every single one of your central female characters take on challenges with such gusto, it does address the narrative choices that created many of the SFF heroes that women know and love to this day. And perhaps by creating so many for their universe, fans of Stranger Things can learn something new about the place of Woman With a Big Gun in our pop culture zeitgeist. Though she began as a very particular type in cinema, there is no reason to rehash one particular female viewpoint over and over to the exclusion of others. We must keep examining our Ripleys, our Sarahs, and our Leias in order to do better, and the simplest way to do that is by eschewing rote conceptions of “toughness” and “strength” and asking what everyday occurrences prompt people to fight back, to stand up for others and for themselves. If Stranger Things continues to ask those questions carefully, then all of its female characters will contribute to that cultural conversation.

Emily Asher-Perrin liked the second season of Stranger Things much better than the first, in fact. You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.

How Movie Musicals Paved the Way for Marvel’s Mega-Blockbusters

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In the early 20th century, musicals were theater productions. In the early 21st century, superheroes lived mainly in comic books. Both managed to make the leap into the medium of film, with a few stumbles on the journey, and they wound up creating entirely new film genres in the process.

The creations of the two film genres mirrored each other, and both can offer lessons to anyone wondering how a genre changes when it successfully switches mediums. In other words: Video game movie producers, start taking notes now.

 

Wait, I Should Define Something Here…

Before we dive in, I should clarify what I mean by “superhero film.” You’re welcome to disagree, and I fully expect that discussion to be eighty percent of the comments section, but for the purposes of this essay, a film with superheroes in it is no more a capital letter Superhero Film than a film with music in it is automatically a musical.

What’s the bright-line? I’d define it as the point when the films’ raison d’etre shifted from the director’s vision or an actor’s showcase to a pronounced focus on the characters and stories from the comics themselves. In many early cases, directors had a clear disdain for their four-color source material. As Keith DeCandido has pointed out here on Tor.com, the director of the 1977 TV movie The Incredible Hulk held a “stated contempt for the comics medium.” And, as great as they are, the previous iterations of the Batman franchise were Tim Burton or Christopher Nolan movies first and Batman second. By my estimation, the new era of comic books as a bankable concept in Hollywood (and as a true synthesis of comics and film) was heralded by the X-Men and Spider-Man trilogies of the 2000s, and truly began in earnest with 2008’s Iron Man. After the worlds of the MCU, DCEU, and 20th Century Fox’s X-Men established the superhero film as a genre unto itself, all the classics from decades earlier were ret-conned into the descriptor. This essay looks at that modern era of superhero film… or, it will after we flash back about ninety years to talk about the birth of film itself.

 

Early Hollywood’s Musical Problem

From Bubsy Berkeley’s Gold Diggers Of 1933

Songs reigned during the transition from silent film to talkies in the late ‘20s and early ‘30s, thanks to producers’ assumptions that talking was a distraction unless it was melodic enough to justify a whole musical number. Eventually Hollywood got behind on-screen dialogue—they clearly recognized how well audiences responded to the ad-libbed ramblings Al Jolson offered while the mic was on between songs in 1927’s The Jazz Singer, which remained an otherwise silent film apart from the isolated musical sequences.

Still, just because song and dance numbers were staples in film early on doesn’t mean they captured the same magic as a live performance. Hollywood was facing the problem faced by any storyteller seeking to transpose an old medium into a new one: they needed to invent the guidebook as they went along.

Technical innovations led to incremental improvements. Tinny microphones were improved. Sound engineers were invented. The time-saving concept of lip-syncing to a sound studio recording of an actor’s song caught on. But the biggest innovation needed wasn’t about the quality of the sound, but rather how the scenes themselves were presented…

Imagine for a moment that you’re trying to enjoy a live musical number, perhaps at an opera house or nightclub. Even if you picked the worst seat in the house, you have viewing options that are unavailable on film. You can turn your head away from the main action to see what a bit player is doing, or even just peek at fellow audience members to judge whether they’re paying attention.

It’s a benefit of a live musical that no film can replicate short of a VR headset. On film, the static camera offers just one flat viewpoint at a time, and in early musicals, barely moved for the entire length of a song. During one exemplary scene in 1929’s The Love Parade, the most energy the camera can muster is a single cut and a pan that travels about a yard from a bed to a chair.

One slim, bushy-browed cinematographer named Busby Berkeley holds the credit for cracking the problem with an insight that quickly became essential to any musical film: he made the camera itself a dancer. His roving camera in the 1930 western musical Whoopie! first pioneered this radical approach by focusing on the dancing cowgirls from a variety of angles and positions rather than presenting the tight chorus line a static camera or live stage would have needed to make sense of the scene. Berkeley custom-built the booms and monorails he needed to breathe life into the dance numbers, and in hits like 1933’s Forty Second Street used the technique to capture the sensory overload of the eponymous bustling city street. By telling stylish musical stories unique to film, he cemented his legacy in musical history.

Berkeley’s camerawork isn’t universally beloved—some find it so busy that it obscures and distracts from the dancing itself—but it remains a perfect example of how to move a type of story from one medium into another. Both the new and the old mediums have unique traits, and any adaptations must find a way to use the tricks specific to the new medium to capture the magic found in the old medium.

And if done well, those tricks that translate and express the original medium’s energy will be echoed and remixed across the new medium like a game of tag. Berkeley’s creative influence can be found more than just musicals. Even today, when cinematographers opt for a dynamic long-take to showcase an athletic performance, it will inevitably be compared to a dance number—just ask Keanu Reeves, who has noted that the fight scenes in the John Wick franchise are “almost like a dance.”

In the early years of the 2000s, Hollywood began walking a similar tightrope between two mediums. To emerge as their own genre, superhero films needed to adapt the comics medium just as musicals had adapted musical theater. Stanford film and media professor Scott Bukatman has made the comparison before in a 2011 essay, saying,

Superhero films remain something of a provisional genre, still very much in a state of becoming. In a way, I feel like an aficionado of Broadway musicals pontificating on the inadequacy of the film musical in 1930: this was a time of ponderous, static films with lousy sound reproduction, but one of the most dynamic of film forms would emerge a scant three years later.

While Bukatman no doubt remains skeptical of the superhero genre—his essay criticizes how “nearly identical” the glut of 2000-era superhero films are, and that aspect of them hasn’t improved any since—I would make an opposite argument. I think the superhero film as a genre has cherry-picked just the right tricks to reflect its comic book heritage and stand alone as a new form of film, and has achieved incredible success in the process. I’m just not so sure the result makes for great films.

 

The Shared Universe

The Silver Age of comics—the late 50s to the early 70s—was a relatively silly time. Shaped by the censoring hand of the Comics Code Authority, the era birthed enough family-friendly figures, from Spider-Man to the Black Panther, to fill dozens of PG-13 blockbusters. The goofy tone was bolstered by Stan Lee’s caption boxes, which peppered issues with asterisked notes guiding readers to a second issue featuring a character name-checked in the first; yes, these were the first superhero Easter eggs.

The shared universe has been essential to comics since the original Justice League of America showed up in 1960, and Marvel quickly followed suit, debuting their own superhero team, the Fantastic Four, a year later.

Just as the musical rapidly evolved, the modern superhero film, in its most recent, hugely successful CGI blockbuster form, has noticeably leaned into its own shared universe strengths within a span of just a few years. Marvel’s Phase One films were the prototypes for a shared universe, the evidence of which was at first relegated to post-credit teaser scenes and two grafted-on intros for Hawkeye and Black Window in Thor and Iron Man 2, respectively. Then The Avengers was a triumph, and Marvel began to weave its network of heroes even tighter. Films in the 2017 shared universe can now co-star Tony Stark and Peter Parker or throw the Hulk into outer space for a movie with Thor. It feels exactly as though Marvel is repeating a strategy it pioneered on cheap pulp in March of 1972, when Spider-Man and the Human Torch graced the cover of Marvel Team-Up #1. The logic is simple addition: if people like one superhero per film, they’ll love two or more at a time.

Marvel Studios is the current undisputed king in terms of successfully building a connected cinematic universe. The DC Extended Universe is eating its dessert first, doling out most of its solo films for players like Batman and Cyborg after the big events like Batman vs. Superman or the upcoming Justice League. Marvel, meanwhile, has saved its Guardians of the Galaxy/Avengers team-up until summer 2018. When the shared universe works, it works for the same reason the comics succeeded in the first place, by building a world packed with heroes who can each carry a story, then essentially gamifying the entire universe by making each story part of a larger puzzle.

It also means that dedicated fans of these characters can’t miss a puzzle piece, which brings us to the second trick superhero films cribbed from the comics…

 

Hyper-Serialization and the “Illusion of Change”

“Orbiting the Earth on a spaceship” is “the only reason for a true spidophile’s copping out” by missing the previous issue, according to the lurid caption introducing 1966’s Amazing Spider-Man #40 in a prime example of the survival mechanism that comics relied on to catch a kid’s eye at the local drug store: heavy serialization.

But how could an overworked writer keep churning out an issue every single month while making sure never to arrive at an ending? Simple: Create the illusion of change without actually allowing characters to evolve.

The term “illusion of change,” as defined by Alan Moore in a typically prickly essay, refers to the decision to keep a character going through the same beats as before, a “pale echo” of their past self, while continually changing relatively minor details—Iron Man gets a new suit, the Hulk leaves the Avengers, Thor gets a haircut.

Mainstream comics have long suffered as the result of this philosophy. While the biggest example from the last decade is probably the universally hated “One More Day” story arc that saw the marriage between Peter Parker and Mary Jane erased from existence by a literal deal with a devil, the 1973 death of Gwen Stacy was actually driven by Marvel editors’ opinions that it was the only way to avoid marrying Peter off. Both times, Peter was left as a “relatable” single guy.

Superhero films will occasionally feint at change in a similar way. Remember when Tony Stark drove away at the end of Iron Man 3 claiming he was no longer Iron Man…only to show up in Age of Ultron literally in his suit from the first minute? I was excited for Civil War, which seemed like a solid attempt to shake up the typical format by pitting the heroes against each other, but even that movie couldn’t end without Steve sending Tony a letter to tell him they were still relatively cool with each other. In its efforts to keep the gravy train rolling smoothly, the modern superhero film can’t risk shaking up the future with, say, a marriage, or a lasting schism between its leads.

 

Limited Character Arcs and Greater Likability

The illusion of change may be the result of serialization, but it comes with its own set of consequences and drawbacks: a plot with nothing major at stake for the main protagonists, and characters who never truly evolve. Given that these plot and character-related elements are normally considered essential to a propulsive story, superhero films need to rely heavily on a variety of new tricks in order to compensate.

Mainstream superhero comics have a similar problem, and have relied on shocking moments or big events to compensate, with varied results. In this arena, the superhero film has an edge over its comic book source material, as it can rely on ever-more impressive CGI to create trippy microverses and multiverses while avoiding the less market-testable character arc.

Remember when I mentioned that the recent spate of superhero films have been called “nearly identical”? They tend to feature thinly-drawn villains, character deaths that don’t stick, and a steady drip of action scenes building to a climactic (and inevitable) CGI slugfest.

The superhero film hasn’t always been quite so formulaic, of course: the original trilogies of the X-Men, Nolan-era Batman, and Raimi-era Spider-Man all stand or fall on their own merits as movies with traditional character arcs. Even Marvel didn’t always keep its characters as static as it now does. In their first movies, Steve Rogers started out scrawny, Tony Stark was a weapons dealer, and Thor was an unworthy, arrogant jock. But once the origin stories had been dispensed with, the characters were locked in to the format, and Marvel began to subtly hone their approach. Tony can create Ultron, act as though he’s learned a lesson, and then be vindicated by creating Vision through essentially the same process. Peter Parker can flake on his date two or three times, including abandoning her at Homecoming, and she’ll let him off with a kiss on the cheek. To compensate for the limited range of the characters themselves, of course, the actors portraying them are highly likeable—Robert Downey Jr. is wryly charming, Chris Pratt is goofily charming, Tom Holland is awkwardly charming, etc.

The current superhero film will often adapt the veneer of a different genre in order to distinguish itself from the pack, but never feels the need to change anything about its basic structure when a new set design and some stunt casting will do the trick. While Winter Soldier pretended to be a throwback to 70s-era political thrillers, it avoided plumbing that genre’s essential core of troubling moral ambiguity by simply giving all the villains their own secret club by the end.

Doctor Strange is perhaps the best example of the problem—it doubles down on doing everything that a superhero film does well without paying much attention to what makes a good film. It packs in jokes, even when they undercut the tension that should drive the story, as when the magical cape shows up and starts moving by itself while Strange confronts his nemesis—it’s funny and delightful, but ruins the tone of deadly menace that the first hero-villain face-off should carry. The film also features consistently jaw-dropping action scenes even when the story might work better without them, as when the Ancient One hops into a psychedelic mirror dimension three minutes into the film, when the stakes aren’t established and our hero doesn’t even believe in the magic that he’ll use in his own mirror dimension fight scene eighty minutes later. Yet it’s all so fun throughout that no one really minds that the plot is an obvious retread of Iron Man.

It’s a fatal flaw if you care about story structure. But for the most part, critics and audiences alike genuinely love it. Marvel has successfully turned its superhero films into delivery systems for jokes, action, and set-pieces, each garnished with a tease that sets up the next. And at this point, that formula isn’t just limited to superheroes, anymore…

 

Why the Superhero Model Is Eating Hollywood

Just as the movie musical’s tricks have filtered down and been incorporated into the production and cinematography of all manner of films, the comic book movie’s tricks have been adapted by every major film franchise. Writing for Grantland in 2014, Mark Harris pinpointed the future of the blockbuster franchise, saying, “Movies are no longer about the thing; they’re about the next thing, the tease, the Easter egg, the post-credit sequence, the promise of a future at which the moment we’re in can only hint.” Franchise films, like comics themselves, must churn out steady installments and, like comics, they’ve turned enthusiastically to team-ups and serials to attract audiences in recent years.

The latest few Star Wars films, Fast and Furious installments, and even Disney Princess movies all channel the same market-tested vein of ultra-watchable peppy weightlessness. Shared universes can include any intellectual property, not just superheroes, from effortless successes like The LEGO Movie and Wreck-It Ralph to misfires like Universal’s Monsterverse. And rock-steady plot mechanics are moving lower on the priority list to make room for something Awesome-with-a-capital-“A”, like the Rock flexing the cast right off his arm or another Darth Vader cameo.

The question of whether comic book movies can really be blamed for modern films’ increasing reliance on serialization is like the chicken-or-the-egg question: producers realized the same franchising common in comic books would work for them around the same time they started making more comic book movies. Why not? It works. The only non-franchise film in the top 20 highest grossing movies of 2016 was La La Land.

One final note: the modern Hollywood blockbuster aims for spectacle to draw in audiences, and tends to forget the essentials of plot and character arcs in the process. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy them. As much as I love examining the formal scaffolding underneath musicals and comic book films, sometimes it’s fun to just sit back and watch Thanos lob a moon at all the Avengers. And it doesn’t mean the blockbuster is a lost cause, by any means—plenty of beloved musicals have the exact same weakness for plotless, happy-go-lucky showstoppers. (I dare you to locate a single character beat in “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”)

The blockbuster’s box of tricks could come from any medium, and could coalesce into a masterpiece or a dud. The impact of comic books on film will, for better and for worse, continue into the foreseeable future. It’s possible that these tricks will continue to evolve until Hollywood comes out with a film that’s both a successful comic-book blockbuster and a true masterpiece of cinematic art. We’re not there yet—but we’re definitely closer than we were ten years ago.

Adam Rowe is a freelance writer and he wants you to watch this. You can also check out his newsletter if you’re interested in how storytelling shapes culture, or @ him on Twitter if you’d prefer to explain to him why he’s wrong about everything in this essay.


Star Trek: Discovery Continues Science Fiction’s Role in Discussing Male Sexual Assault

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Star Trek: Discovery, Ash Tyler

[Content warning: discussions of rape and sexual assault]

The midseason finale of Star Trek: Discovery, “Into the Forest I Go,” was a fraught piece of television that touched on the emotional state of several core cast members. But no one’s journey was more painful than that of Lieutenant Ash Tyler.

There are a lot of theories surrounding the identity of Tyler, and the midseason finale seems to confirm those theories subtly without disengaging from his current struggles. When he and Burnham infiltrate the Klingon sarcophagus ship to plant sensors on board, he finally runs into L’Rell for the first time since escaping her capture. The encounter triggers PTSD flashbacks that render him compromised for the majority of the mission, and Admiral Cornwell works hard to talk him back into awareness. During his flashbacks, we see signs of surgery and the Klingon Voq—which plays into the theory that Tyler truly is Voq (he’s played by the same actor), now acting as a Klingon sleeper agent. But it’s clear that Ash is carrying memories of his human life that he believes, and that his capture at the hands of the Klingons was real in terms of his experiencing it. He remembers what happened to him, and has been deeply traumatized by it.

While he explained the terms of his capture as vaguely as possible to Captain Lorca, a later talk with Michael calls on Ash to give more detail of his capture. He reveals that the the only reason he survived over two hundred days as a Klingon prisoner was because he made himself available to L’Rell. Essentially, he permitted unwanted sexual acts and attention because he knew it would keep him alive.

Star Trek: Discovery, Ash Tyler

The situation is disturbing for how realistic it is. Ash Tyler had to make a choice, to be continually raped and tortured by his captor, or to die. He chose the former, and horror of that does not leave him just because he managed to get away with his life. Whether or not Tyler turns out to be Voq makes no difference—as Ash Tyler, these events are a part of him, and they have devastated him. His trauma is persistent, detailed, and noted by the people around him.

And while Discovery might be offering the most depth to a conversation around male sexual assault that television has seen in a while, what might be more fascinating is that science fiction has long been a genre where discussing male rape was permissible. Sci-fi has a history of examining the concept of sexual assault from a male point of view, and the reasons for that commonality likely have much to do with depictions of power and how they function with science fiction story tropes.

Star Trek: Discovery, Ash Tyler, Michael Burnham

It should be said that most genres do not take the concept of male rape seriously whatsoever, whether the rapist in question is male or female. Often these situations are the butt of jokes—if a man is the aggressor, it’s often a prison rape joke; if a woman is the aggressor, it’s usually suggested that the scenario can’t be rape because it’s impossible for a man to be uninterested in a woman’s sexual advances. This is constant background noise in the world of sitcoms; and even in other genres where it crops up, such as romance and fantasy, it is rare to see the idea tackled with the gravity it requires. What’s worse, sexual assault toward men in drama often seems to be added for shock value, added in to prove just how bad a situation or specific person is to heighten the stakes of a plot. We have to hope that Discovery will not make this mistake later on in the show’s run, but the signs are promising so far: Tyler’s trauma is not neatly resolved after being brought to the fore, which hopefully means that it is an emotional arc that the show will continue to explore.

Science fiction has done its fair share of winking and nudging too, to be fair—even in Star Trek. William Riker ends up having to sleep with an alien woman to escape her xenophobic planet in the episode “First Contact”… but he doesn’t seem too broken up about it. Jim Kirk is coerced pretty constantly during his tenure as Enterprise captain, yet no one ever frames these scenarios as sexual abuse, despite the fact that he is often only sleeping with the women in question in order to save the lives of his crew. Trip Tucker is impregnated without his knowledge by an alien race Starfleet has never before encountered in “Unexpected.” Odo asks Captain Sisko to prevent Lwaxana Troi from sexually harassing him, only to be told that he should consider her offer. In a situation similar to Discovery, Harry Kim is selected to be the mate of a Klingon woman who assaults him as part of their “mating rituals,” even though Kim wants no part of it. All of these situations are played lightheartedly, or as outright comedy.

Star Trek: Voyager, Harry Kim, Prophecy

And yet, with Discovery’s turnabout in how these narratives should be treated, it joins the ranks of other science fiction stories (particularly on television) that have made efforts to have this discussion. Those previous stories may not have reached the depth that Star Trek: Discovery has, but they provided a narrative space to consider this abuse rather than making fun of it or shoving it under a very large rug.

In Stargate: SG-1, Daniel Jackson is mind-controlled by the queen Hathor in order to force him to help her create Goa’uld larvae. Because of her power over men, an all-female task force is dispatched to rescue him, and the episode does not brush off the incident as anything less than violent assault—it is clear that there was a struggle in the room, and Daniel can barely speak. When Daniel encounters Hathor again later on in the show’s run, he cannot look at her. In fact, Daniel Jackson’s transformation as the show continues can be read as a desire to eradicate his vulnerabilities in response to abuse by the Goa’uld, of which Hathor’s rape is clearly a key encounter. Daniel Jackson has a great deal of difficulty trusting others, and it is hardly a surprise, given what has happened to him.

Farscape also has its central male character fall into the hands of an alien who rapes him. John Crichton is captured by Peacekeeper Commandant Grayza, who is attempting to extract information from him. She uses a pheromone that is excreted from a gland she had surgically implanted in her body; the effects of said pheromone are much like a roofie. John spends a great deal of time as her prisoner, but seems to bounce back relatively quickly when he is freed, and his feelings on her repeated violation are unclear. However, when he finally confronts Grayza at the end of the show’s fourth season, he makes it clear that her actions left their mark on him:

John: I have been in your hands. There’s no peace there. Just power.

Grayza: You are so self-righteous! I have used all my skills, all my resources for one perfect chance at peace! And because of you, it is gone and I am—

John:  Frelled? Screwed? …Raped? Welcome to the Universe, Commandant.

John Crichton, Farscape

John Crichton immediately after unwanted contact with Grayza.

While the show Quantum Leap often made light of toxic sexual situations, Sam Beckett frequently made it known that he was uncomfortable “leaping” into the bodies of other humans from the past, and then expected to interact with the people in their lives as they would. And while the narrative was often making jokes at Sam’s expense to that end, the show did make these deeply uncomfortable moments clear, noting that just because Sam was a man didn’t automatically mean he wanted to sleep with any woman who was willing, particularly when they didn’t know that he wasn’t the person they thought he was. (This dynamic was even more fraught when Sam lept into female people, but that is another conversation for another time.)

The series Misfits dealt with the concept of male consent via Alisha, whose superpower made people hyper-lustful when she touched them. Initially, she uses her power to get men to sleep with her, but when she tries it on Curtis—who knows about her power—he points out that what she’s doing is wrong. Alisha goes back to the men she touched and finds out that they barely even remember their encounters with her. That realization forces her to realize that what did was rape, and she begins to question whether or not it is possible for anyone to consent to sex with her because of the nature of her powers.

Even the most famous superhero in the world is a rape survivor—Batman’s son, Damian Wayne, is the product of Bruce Wayne’s rape at the hands of Talia al Ghul (in certain versions of the story, that is, as comics canon is a wooly thing). In various retellings of this story Talia even uses all the excuses that predators use when Bruce confronts her about drugging him into having sex with her; she tells him that he definitely liked it while it was happening, that it couldn’t have been so bad, that she knew he liked her so that made it okay. And while Bruce loves and accepts his son, he still has no problem making it clear to Talia that what happened between them was not consensual:

Talia al Ghul and Batman, rape

As with Ash Tyler on Discovery, all of these men are capable human beings who hold their own in a multitude of equally horrific situations elsewhere. In Batman’s case, you are dealing with a person who is often considered the peak of physical and mental discipline for a non-superpowered individual. This does not prevent them from being attacked or ensure their personal autonomy—it can happen regardless of personal ability or stature. In fact, it is important that Tyler is portrayed as a thoroughly capable and exceptional officer; Laura Hudson of The Verge makes the point that while some people think that they can brush off the stories of survivors by believing that rape only happens to people who make bad decisions, who aren’t careful, “Tyler’s story was designed around a more revealing, frightening truth: the only thing keeping any of us safe from harassment and abuse is our relative power in a situation. And that can be stripped away from any of us, regardless of gender, by a predator with the inclination and opportunity.”

All the same, there is something that unites most of these narratives that it’s impossible not to touch on: In the majority of the situations, the women in question have special abilities or items, be it extreme physical strength, or super abilities, or strange chemical compounds at their disposal. Perhaps this is the reason why it is easier for science fiction to tackle the concept of male sexual abuse—because if female attackers have interstellar science or untold strength to bring to bear, the idea of a man being sexually assaulted will strike viewers who are inclined to deny these stories as “more believable.” It’s an odd double edged sword to wield contextually because while science fiction uses allegory constantly to create meaningful narratives, you don’t want the audience to come away believing that male rape is only possible when the other party is a Klingon or possesses strange pheromones. It is essential that SF allows us to have these conversations, but not if it leads others to believe that assault is contingent on outrageous alien power.

Star Trek: Discovery, Ash Tyler

But if the audience understands that fictional power is ultimately a stand-in for everyday power, then the fact that science fiction tackles this subject with such frequency is invaluable. There needs to be a place in the stories we tell to address the darkest corners of human experience, as both a point of education and a chance to reach out to others who have been wronged. The fact that the genre has already displayed an array of male characters who have experienced sexual abuse will let other survivors know that they are not alone. The fact that these characters are also skilled experts and heroes will make it clear that this manner of abuse can happen to anyone. The fact that these characters continue to live their lives shows everyone that those terrible moments do not define them in every moment of their day-to-day existence. Hopefully, Ash Tyler’s journey will contribute even more nuance to this conversation going forward.

If you or anyone you know requires support in the wake of sexual assault, the RAINN Sexual Assault Hotline is available as a resource.

Emily Asher-Perrin is a Tor.com staff writer. You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.

Justice League Shows Us What Happens When You Team Up Without a Cinematic Universe

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Justice League movie

The first Justice League team-up film has been long-awaited by fans of the comics, cartoons, and movies that DC Comics has been churning out for decades. And while the DC Cinematic Universe has (rightly) received a fair share of criticism for its many fumbles, the success of Wonder Woman, followed by word of a course correction for the DC pantheon on screen gave reason to hope for the future of the series.

[No spoilers for the film.]

Sadly, the first serving of Justice ended up being more like a buffet no one ordered. Where half the dishes were not left in the oven for the full hour they needed to cook. And the other half of the dishes were really tacky desserts. This might have had something to do with the fact that the buffet was created by two different chefs who had never worked in the same kitchen before, and were known for wildly different styles of cuisine. But some of the food was delicious anyway? Which sort of made the whole spread that much more upsetting?

All of which is to say… this poor movie just does not work.

It is stuffed to the gills with Easter eggs and vague background stories and flashy fights and set pieces that are working desperately to make you awed at this new team of superfriends. Director Zack Snyder’s signature style does not play well with the story being told, however; his overwrought tendencies pull the substance out of everything and reduce it to occasional shots that make the audience go “oh, look, a single cool thing.” Everything is too much: too much slo-mo, too much grunting, too many landslides and explosions and throwing people into walls. His action sequences are baffling as ever, making all the important movement of the film incredibly hard to track. While we’ve moved away from “Collateral Damage” Superman (thank goodness), you just can’t stop Snyder from vomiting rubble onto the screen at every available opportunity.

After the refreshing work of director Patty Jenkins on Wonder Woman, Snyder’s poor influence on the Amazons feels like a bright spotlight… quite literally, as he spends the majority of the major Amazon fight sequence in the film getting in every possible butt shot he can manage. He also takes every possible opportunity to shine bright lights on Wonder Woman’s butt and breasts, lights that literally come out of nowhere. This abrupt shift in how the Amazons are filmed, barely half a year since Wonder Woman‘s release, feels like a pointed slap in the face.

While it’s understandable that Snyder thought of bringing in Joss Whedon to work on the script with Chris Terrio–Whedon’s work on The Avengers makes him an understandable go-to in this department, especially given the new lighthearted direction DC planned to go in–his work on the script is so obvious as to be almost embarrassing. You could take a scalpel and cut around the “Whedon bits” of the dialogue. What’s worse is that the work he has contributed is quite good, often exactly what the film needs to brighten up and come to life. It’s just a shame that it stands out so harshly against the places where the script is muddled and the dialogue mealy.

Justice League movie

The character work is dodgy all the way around, which brings us to the problem of stepping straight into the team-up film without a cinematic background for half of the characters. It should not be impossible to create a superteam film without a Marvel-style continuity build-up, but Justice League clearly feels awkward about skipping a grade, and doesn’t want to leave anything out. It settles instead for dumping huge amounts of information about all the new characters at oddly random intervals… but not always the information that the audience wants or needs. Jason Momoa’s Aquaman suffers the most from this approach, which leaves the character adrift in a film that’s never quite sure what he’s doing there (aside from showing off his pecs, which is admittedly a-okay). Ezra Miller’s Flash makes it out the best of these new team members, with just enough history, personality, and charm to make him an instant favorite.

The most frustrating of the new characters is Cyborg, who Ray Fisher plays with keen sensitivity and focus. Cyborg is more essential to the storyline of the film than Flash or Aquaman, which results in far too much of his background being scratched over for plot purposes. It’s a shame, because his and Wonder Woman’s arcs are the most interesting ones that the film has to offer, both of them working to step out into the world and reclaim their place in it. The film might have been served better by centering on Cyborg’s journey instead and branching out from there. We’ll just never know.

Seeing Gal Gadot and Ben Affleck step back into the roles of Diana and Bruce shouldn’t feel like such a relief, but they are the only people capable of anchoring the movie, and when they are on screen the whole picture almost fills in. Diana is fierce as ever, but the film makes sense of her appearance in Batman vs Superman, and tries to delve into her reasons for shying away from the world. And though it’s probably not a turn anyone was expecting, Affleck’s middle-aged self-deprecating Batman is exactly what cinema needs right now. It’s legitimately enjoyable to see a version of Bruce Wayne who is aware of his limitations and doesn’t think much of himself at the end of the day. Hopefully this version will stand in his upcoming solo film.

Justice League movie

After a brief, aggravating detour, Henry Cavill is finally given the opportunity to behave like the Superman fans know and love. He is gentle, he is funny, he is soothing and kind. But nearly all his scenes for the film were reshoots that occurred while he was also working on Mission: Impossible 6… when he had a mustache. Instead of begging M:I 6 to please let him shave the thing and use a fake one for their movie, the CGI team was tasked with removing Cavill’s mustache in post–a move that leaps straight over the uncanny valley into nightmare realms. His face looks not-quite-right through the entire movie. There are maybe two scenes where it isn’t a problem. To have his first excellent turn as the character be marred by this unsettling feeling that perhaps a weird changeling has taken over Superman’s body is downright depressing to watch, especially when Cavill finally appears to be enjoying the role so much.

There is a weird highlight to this strange journey; because Danny Elfman was responsible for writing a good portion of the score, his Batman theme is used for Batman. When you hear it, the whole world kind of falls away and you get to go home for a moment. Good thing he sprinkles it liberally throughout.

Though the villain is ridiculous (Ciarán Hinds does his best, but he can’t really lend pathos to a guy who is obviously a second-string baddie with nothing more to offer than “You will all bow and kowtow and otherwise kneel to me because that’s kind of my thing!”) and the plot is trying to fold together dozens of extra scenes that could easily fit into the eighteen other films DC currently working on, there is a really fun movie lurking inside Justice League. And that is what makes the whole experience so frustrating to sit through–the moments when you point at the screen and go oh, there you are, no stay a while, this is the feeling I want. With that said, the film might work a little better for people who read the comics or enjoyed the Justice League cartoons; it’s easier to fill in the gaps when you already love the characters and have some idea of where the whole circus is trying to go.

Justice League movie

When all is said and done, Justice League feels like a film that is constantly withholding its bright, shining center from the audience. While DC and Warner Brothers will likely continue to course correct as they continue this touch-and-go journey, it would have been nicer to get some reassurance that Wonder Woman isn’t the only solid camp they’ve got running in their wheelhouse.

Emily Asher-Perrin would kind of love a series of short films about sad Batman’s aches and pains, while Alfred continues to snipe at him about not having kids he can grandparent. You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.

8 Things That Didn’t Need to Happen in Justice League

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Justice League movie

Jut like Batman v Superman before it, Justice League is unfortunately packed full of material that it doesn’t need. And it’s all this odd bloat that prevent the story from becoming a cohesive, fully enjoyable film. (As it stands, it’s a confusing film with some very enjoyable bits in it.) Here are several items that could have been cut or reworked to that end.

Spoilers for Justice League.

 

The State of the World Post-Death of Superman

Justice League movie

Zack Snyder loves to throw in odd montages at the start of his movies, and Justice League has this really weird setup where we see how the world has changed in Superman’s absence. Specifically, we see how hate crimes are on the rise? It’s explicit enough that we’re shown a skinhead harassing a Muslim family; the skinhead is then subdued by the police. There is anger and fear all around, people panicking crying and laying roses down at memorials for Superman all across the globe. There is a striking oddness to this setup if you’ve seen Batman v Superman, however, a film that made it clear that the world’s standing on Superman is mixed at best and outright hostile in many places. So it’s weird to suggest that Supes being gone leads to this “death of hope” that has worldwide consequences.

This culminates in Diana rushing to a stop a terrorist attack at the British Museum. And while there should be something meaningful—at least in a meta sense—in watching Diana stop a mass shooter from killing a bunch of kids, the scene ultimately undercuts her main arc in the film. Batman later gives her a hard time for shying away from the world, but the audience has already seen Diana working. It muddies an already very muddy story.

 

The Amazons Try to Keep Their Mother Box

Justice League movie

Part of the reason why this segment should be cut is down to how the Amazons are shot on film this time around. Wonder Woman director Patty Jenkins knew how to place the camera to make it clear that the women she was filming were powerful forces of nature that no one should mess with. The Snyder version is mostly showcasing that Amazons are hot. Which we know without strategic camera angles that focus on their posteriors and (suddenly not-armored) abs.

But moreover? This section is just a waste of time. It goes on forever, and it feels like an attempt to make fans of Wonder Woman happy by reintegrating the Amazons into the modern-day story. All we really needed was Steppenwolf breaking out of the box and Hippolyta going to light the beacon to warn Diana. It would have serviced the film better and prevented the plot from being so incredibly disjointed.

 

Arthur Takes a Trip to Atlantis

Justice League movie

It turns out that a lot of Aquaman’s backstory was purged in the reshoots of the film, and that makes his whole sojourn to Atlantis a mess of a sequence. We see Amber Heard as Mera (spoiler: eventual Queen of Atlantis, the woman who Aquaman marries in the comics), working to stop Steppenwolf from obtaining the second Mother Box, which obviously doesn’t work. Arthur shows up to fight and gets his butt handed to him. Mera decides it’s time to tell Arthur off for his absence in a baffling monologue about how sad Arthur’s mother must have been to abandon him. You know, even though it’s really important for him to get back to the surface and figure out where Steppenwolf has gone.

This scene need double the context, or to be erased completely. It offers very little to fans who don’t already have some idea of the Aquaman mythos, and makes even less sense when Arthur suddenly shows up in Atlantean scale mail a few minutes later. Did Mera give that to him after chewing him out? Wouldn’t Aquaman’s journey in the film be better helped by understanding why he decides to help tiny fishing villages in the winter, instead of getting yelled at about his place under the sea?

 

Meeting Jim Gordon

Justice League movie

We get it, this film really wants to be the superhero version of “The Gang’s All Here,” and as tickling as it is to see J.K. Simmons playing Jim Gordon, this scene is completely unnecessary. Batman is a detective who spends all of his time keeping an eye on what’s happening in Gotham. Alfred probably could have done some Googling and figured the kidnapping situation out without the team responding to the Bat Signal and heading to the roof of the police station. The exchanges on the roof are cute and all, but it just helps the movie continue to drag.

And it’s really there to get the stock “Batman vanishes when you’re talking to him” joke in there anyhow.

 

Superman Wakes Up Angry

Justice League movie

For the most part, Henry Cavill finally gets to play Superman in Justice League. That is, a character who finally behaves like Superman. But what’s a teamup film without making everyone fight each other, right? So when Superman is revived, he’s very pissed off for some reason, and everyone in the League has to punch him to try and subdue him. Which leads to the only good part of the scene, where the Flash runs to get behind him and everyone else is attacking from the front, and Barry sees Superman turn in Speedforce to look at him and then take him out. Eventually Bruce joins the party (he’s Batman—he had to run all the way over from the other building after calling Alfred), and Superman finally gets to echo Bruce’s words from Batman v Superman at him: “Do you bleed?”

This whole impetus could have been served just a easily and far more expediently if Supes had simply woken up disoriented. It’s not hard to believe that his powers could fritz a little if he were suddenly brought back from the dead, and having a group of people trying to calm you down would probably freak you out even more. Eventually he could recognize that these people are not trying to hurt him and hurry off to part unknown to try and collect himself. Shorter scene that doesn’t require Randomly Evil Superman. Because not remembering everything about your life doesn’t fundamentally change who you are.

 

Save This Family

Justice League movie

We get repeated scenes where we return to a Russian family who are right at the center of Steppenwolf’s Mother Box Unity Concert with the parademons swooping all over. And while we are clearly getting to know this family in order to worry about them by the end of the film with the Justice League swoops in to save the day, we don’t actually learn anything about them. Except for the fact that they are a family. And their home is surrounded by parademons. And they are very scared. Which makes sense, but we don’t need five scenes showcasing just how very scared they are.

This does eventually lead to Barry Allen rushing them to safety, but this could have easily been achieved without showing us the family every twenty minutes. It doesn’t give the film a sense of urgency, but rather make it confusing that they aren’t more important to overall story. You keep expecting the daughter to help out one of the heroes or something, but no. They were just there. In peril. Like ya do.

 

Superman Goes Home With Lois

Justice League movie

It should be noted that I’m saying this as a fan of this particular version of Lois and Clark, as I think that their relationship is one of the best things this Superman incarnation has going for it—but nearly every scene with Lois in it could be scrapped. It pulls focus away from what’s happening in the film, and it’s mostly just there to show Lois being sad that Clark is dead and then Lois being sad that she didn’t tough out the death of her near-fiancé by throwing herself into work. We get a couple of cute lines out of it, but it ultimately distracts. All of these things could easily be dumped into the next film with Superman, which is where they belong.

Plus, there’s nothing so baffling as watching Superman wake up furious, go home confused and amnesiac, then be ready to fight alongside Batman a hour later. If we’re meant to see Clark move through the reboot of his brain, we need more of an explanation as to what he’s going through, not just a blank stare here and a smile there.

 

The Team Saves Batman Before He Can Martyr Himself

Justice League movie

Sad, tired Batman is maybe the best thing to come out of the DC Cinematic Universe. After countless versions of Batman who spend their time telling everyone in earshot that they can either get with his program or leave, watching a Batman who truly wants to work with others, who feels a bit unequal to the task, who is trying his darnedest to build a new family, is far more interesting to watch. Batman who grins when Superman suddenly shows up to the fight is way more fun than Batman who has no interest in ever working with anyone ever because he is The Night and The Night is a loner, thank you very much.

But the final fight is the final fight, and we need to be focused on that. Not on how Bruce Wayne thought maybe he’d let the parademons kill him because that’s all he’s good for in the big boss battle. Fine, we get it, Batman needs to learn how it works when you’ve got a team backing you up, but he could learn that while actually, you know, fighting with the team. To be fair, at least they all give him hell for it, but it’s another place where the movie claws forward when it needs to be sprinting toward the finish line.

 

Those are just a few of the places where the film could be reworked. What would you have done with the editing scissors?

Emily Asher-Perrin would like to allocate a lot of these scenes to different movies. You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.

Holy Rewatch Batman! Extra: Batman vs. Two-Face

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Batman vs. Two-Face
Written by Michael Jelenic & James Tucker
Directed by Rick Morales
Original release date: October 10, 2017

The Bat-signal: Batman and Robin are invited by Dr. Hugo Strange to witness the testing of a new crimefighting tool: the Evil Extractor. En route, Batman stops by the Gotham State Penitentiary to visit Catwoman, giving her a gift of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s love poetry. Their attempt to kiss through the bars is interrupted (of course) by Robin.

They arrive at Strange’s demonstration. He and his assistant, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, set up the extractor with Joker, Penguin, Riddler, Egghead, and Mr. Freeze. (At one point Quinzel and Joker exchange a wink. This may or may not be important later.)

Also present is Gotham City District Attorney Harvey Dent, whom Batman “meets” for the first time (though he and Bruce Wayne are good friends). Given Batman’s track record in prosecuting cases himself, the presence of a decent DA is probably a relief to everyone.

However, the repository for the evil that is extracted from the five subjects explodes and hits Dent on the left side of his body (Batman manages to cover his right side with his cape). Dent is transformed into a creature of evil called Two-Face, and over the opening credits, we see several of Batman and Robin’s encounters with Two-Face over the years.

Once the credits are done, we see Dent in a plastic surgeon’s bed, having had his face operated on to restore his good looks. Dent is made an assistant to the assistant district attorney, and he says he hopes to win back the people’s trust.

King Tut goes on a rampage, stealing a biplane owned by a famous Egyptologist, and then he goes after a double-decker tour bus owned by the Nile Bus Company—and Alfred and Harriet are attending a soiree on that bus! Batman and Robin swing into action and fisticuffs ensue. The Dynamic Duo defeat the Tutlings, but Tut himself gets them with robot asps. He traps them in canopic jars and puts them in a construction site’s foundation. But even as the cement pours onto them, they escape via the bat boot jets, and then when they catch up to Tut, he gets conked on the head, reverting him to Professor McElroy of Yale University.

O’Hara interrogates Tut, but his dual identity confuses the matter. Lucille Diamond, public defender, comes in, ending the questioning. Later in court, Diamond uses O’Hara’s rather violent interrogation methods against him. However, McElroy confesses under Dent’s questioning, and Tut goes to jail.

Dent and Bruce Wayne share a celebratory drink, leaving Dick to feel like a third wheel. Dent mentions a charity event for underprivileged twins at the Winning Pair Casino. However, Bruce and Dick are called away to the bat-phone—there’s a package for Batman at Gordon’s office, which contains a clue indicating that Bookworm is going to steal rare editions of A Tale of Two Cities, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, and The Man in the Iron Mask. Batman and Robin arrive in time to stop them, and fisticuffs ensue. As Bookworm and his henchmen are taken away, Bookworm is genuinely surprised that the Dynamic Duo received a clue to his robbery. In addition, the books are missing, even though the robbery was foiled.

Batman deduces that, while all the recent crimes fit the mode of the villains in question, they also had a duality theme—biplane, double-decker bus, the themes of the three books—and that indicates Two-Face. But Dent is still working hard as the assistant to the assistant DA.

They check out Two-Face’s last known hideout, an abandoned sign factory on Gemini Drive, where they see Two-Face and his twin henchmen—but the place is too dark to see the “good” side of his face. They assume that one of Dent’s enemies—he made plenty as a DA—is setting him up.

Two-Face has them trapped, but the villain flips his coin, and it comes up the non-scarred side, so they live. Robin insists that Dent has reverted to his villainous persona, but Batman believes in his friend. Batman tells Robin to go to his room, but Robin instead decides to investigate on his own.

Diamond is also representing Catwoman, who is grumpy because Batman has been so focused on the Two-Face thing that he missed their “date.” She uses one of her cats to scratch Diamond and then switches outfits with her.

Strange, embittered because they fired him after the accident with the extractor, is kidnapped by Two-Face and told to build a new extractor.

Robin follows Dent, and only to be ambushed and knocked out. When he awakens, he sees Two-Face—still keeping his “good” side hidden—who has Strange use the new improved evil extractor to turn Robin into a Two-Face of his own.

Alfred discovers that Robin’s missing and activates the bat-homing beacon in his utility belt and gives Batman the coordinates. Batman manages to subdue him and bring him back to the Batcave. Robin goes back and forth between being himself and being evil. Once Batman finds an antidote and gives it to Robin, the Boy Wonder explains that he thinks Dent is being forced to work for this new Two-Face. They head to the Winning Pair Casino, only to be ambushed by Two-Face—who is also Dent. It turns out that he’s been legitimately trying to reform, but like Robin when he was exposed to the evil from the extractor, his personality split.

Two-Face ties the Dynamic Duo to a big coin and he unmasks Batman. Two-Face is gleeful at learning Batman’s secret ID, and Dent feels betrayed that his best friend never told him his secret. Two-Face gathers Joker, Penguin, Clock King, Riddler, Egghead, Shame, and Catwoman for an auction to see who gets to learn Batman’s identity. Catwoman tries to outbid the others with a five million dollar bid. (Why she needed a public defender when she had five million bucks laying around is left as an exercise for the viewer.) The rest of them, at Joker’s urging, pool their cash to make a ten million dollar bid that wins the day.

However, Batman and Robin manage to escape before the bad guys can unmask them. Fisticuffs ensue, and with Catwoman’s help, the Dynamic Duo are triumphant. But Two-Face had something else in mind: while the villains bid, the extractor pulls out a ton of their evil. Two-Face uses that evil to turn the entirety of Gotham City into Two-Faces, spraying it over the city in the biplane that Tut stole.

The Dynamic Duo shoot down the biplane, and it crashes in Lorenzo’s Oil Factory. Batman insists on stopping Two-Face alone due to his long friendship with Dent. He manages to convince Dent to fight Two-Face, and he does so, defeating the evil within him.

Using the batwing, our heroes cure the rest of the city as well.

Three months later, Dent is let out of prison in order to host a charity bachelor auction. The first eligible bachelor is Batman—and Catwoman starts the bidding…

Fetch the Bat-shark-repellant! Surprisingly low on bat-gadgets this time. The bat-computer does its usual work, of course, and the bat boot jets save our heroes’ bacon on two occasions. Plus we have the bat-homing beacon in Robin’s utility belt and the batwing.

Holy #@!%$, Batman! We have “Holy Romeo and Juliet” when Batman is visiting Catwoman in jail; “Holy hieroglyphics” when Batman reveals why King Tut stole a biplane; “Holy hypodermic” when they’re hit with poisonous asps; “Holy entrails” when Batman explains what canopic jars are for (ewwwwwwwwwww); “Holy Amelia Earhart” when Gordon reveals that the biplane Tut stole is missing (nice to see Batman is educating him about great aviators even when they’re women); “Holy plagiarism” when they realize that Bookworm is back; “Holy overdue book!” when they arrive at the Gotham Public Library; “Holy English lit!” after Batman reels off the titles Bookworm is after in the library; “Holy hideosity” (which isn’t actually a word) when they discover that Two-Face is back; “Holy blind spot” when Batman refuses to listen when Robin insists that Dent is responsible for Two-Face’s rampage; “Holy resurrection” when Robin stumbles across the evil extractor; “Holy billiards” when Batman discovers blue chalk residue on Robin’s uniform; “Holy compaction” (really?) when they’re about to be crushed by giant pool balls; “Holy half-dollar” when they’re tied to a giant coin; “Holy Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde” when Dent reveals that he’s still Two-Face; “Holy indecent exposure” when Two-Face rips off the cowl; “Holy hairpin turn” when Two-Face avoids the mini Bat-zooka; “Holy amnesia” when Dick realizes that Dent doesn’t remember that Batman and Robin are really Bruce and Dick; and finally, for some reason, “Holy Hugh Hefner” when Catwoman bids on Batman. 

Gotham City’s finest. Gordon and O’Hara make a show of discussing how they’d deal with Tut before they bow to reality and activate the bat-signal. When they interrogate Tut, O’Hara keeps clubbing him on the head to turn him from Professor McElroy back into Tut (with Tut clubbing himself on head to change himself back to McElroy). O’Hara is dinged for this on the stand by Diamond when Tut is on trial, as giving suspects repeated cranial trauma during interrogation is frowned upon in these enlightened times. Later, after he’s restored from being Two-Faced, O’Hara says he feels like he’s been on a bender, which pretty much confirms what we always believed about the chief…

No sex, please, we’re superheroes. Batman visits Catwoman in jail, and they almost kiss before Robin interrupts. At the end, Catwoman bids on Batman as an eligible bachelor, hubba hubba.

Special Guest Villains. The main villain is right there in the title: William Shatner as Harvey Dent/Two-Face, with Julie Newmar back as Catwoman. Wally Wingert absolutely nails both Victor Buono and Frank Gorshin’s inflections when voicing both King Tut and the Riddler, while Jeff Bergman does a fine job with Joker and Bookworm, William Salyers remains mediocre as the Penguin, and Jim Ward is kinda meh as Hugo Strange. Egghead, Shame, Mr. Freeze (looking like a mix of Otto Preminger and Eli Wallach), and Clock King show up for silent cameos as well.

Oh, and Sirena Irwin does the voice of Quinzel; in the Blu-Ray edition, there’s a scene of her breaking Joker out of jail in her Harley Quinn persona.

Na-na na-na na-na na-na na.

“I always knew you’d make an asp of yourself, Bat-Boob!”

A classic King Tut insult

Trivial matters: At the very end are two title cards dedicating the film to Adam West, the first the dedication, the second saying, “Rest well, Bright Knight.”

This film was discussed on The Batcave Podcast by John S. Drew, along with Dan Greenfield of 13th Dimension, Billy Flynn of Geek Radio Daily, and Ben Bentley of 66batman.com.

This is the first (and last) time West and William Shatner have acted together since the 1964 Alexander the Great pilot.

In addition to West, Burt Ward, and Julie Newmar, one other alumnus from Batman ’66 provides a voice: Lee Meriwether, who played Catwoman in the feature film and Lisa Carson in “King Tut’s Coup”/”Batman’s Waterloo,” plays Lucilee Diamond. (It’s unknown whether that name was a tribute to “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” a song Shatner famously recorded a hilariously terrible version of for the 1988 Golden Throats album.) In tribute to Meriwether’s role in the film, Catwoman escapes prison by switching clothes with Diamond, thus putting Meriwether’s character in the outfit. She admires herself in the mirror when she wakes up in the costume.

Despite rumors to the contrary, this movie does not use Harlan Ellison’s unproduced story treatment for the ’66 Batman with Two-Face as its basis. That story was adapted by the late Len Wein and Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez into a comic book in 2015.

Harvey Dent is animated to look like Shatner did in 1966.

Although the Gotham Public Library is robbed by Bookworm, neither Batgirl nor Barbara Gordon appears in the movie, which seems like a missed opportunity. As with the previous animated film, it’s possible they decided not to re-cast the role following Yvonne Craig’s death in 2015.

The character of Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn was created 25 years after Batman 66 for Batman: The Animated Series, and then later brought into the comics, and now she’s brought into this little corner of the Bat-verse as well.

Pow! Biff! Zowie! “You know what they say: if you can’t kill them in a horrible lab experiment, join them!” A fitting finale to Adam West’s storied career, you couldn’t have asked for a better last role than getting to play the role that made him both famous and infamous one last time. West sounds good, too. Looks like Warner spent the extra money to do post-production work to get rid of the tremors in West’s voice.

As an added bonus, West gets to act alongside William Shatner, 53 years after the first time, and five decades after both got a reputation for overacting and being typecast.

And Two-Face is one of those villains that you can understand why they never used him in the TV show, but you’re both sorry and not sorry they didn’t. Certainly, the (awful) Tommy Lee Jones interpretation of Two-Face we saw in Batman Forever might have worked in Batman ’66. This version sorta kinda works, too. It borrows from the comics—in the character’s various appearances in the 1940s, he became Two-Face, menaced Batman and Robin, got plastic surgery to restore his face, but then reverted back to Two-Face eventually. (Frank Miller and Klaus Janson riffed on that in Batman: The Dark Knight Returns as well.)

Still, I’m iffy about the alteration to Two-Face’s origin. Almost every version has retained the notion that Dent was scarred as part of his prosecutorial duties. Here, he’s just observing a procedure. And the whole evil extraction thing is—well, actually, perfectly in line with some of the other bits of technological nonsense in this iteration of Batman, so I guess I’m okay with that. But it still doesn’t quite feel right.

Everything else, though, is the same self-aware nostalgia-fest as The Return of the Caped Crusaders was. Sometimes that’s part of the problem—they hang an even bigger lantern on the GCPD’s incompetence, which is a bit much. Having said that, I welcome the return of Harriet’s nudge-nudge-wink-winking to Alfred because she’s sure that Bruce and Dick go off to disappear and shag endlessly.

And while it’s great to hear Lee Meriwether join the party, and the joke with her character in the Catwoman costume lands beautifully, Julie Newmar’s presence feels perfunctory. Scripters Michael Jelenic and James Tucker don’t come up with a good reason to have Catwoman in the story, and it feels like she’s only there because Newmar’s still alive and they don’t want to waste the shot.

Shatner himself does superbly as Dent—less so as Two-Face, as the growl he puts on is not nearly as menacing or interesting as he’d like it to be. But it’s a fun, solid performance.

Still, this is fun, and with West’s death, we’re unlikely to get any new ones. It truly closes the book on a delightfully goofy era of Bat-stories. It is, if nothing else, a fitting ending to pair West and Shatner up for the finale. (I just wish there’d been a character named Alexander…)

Bat-rating: 6

Keith R.A. DeCandido did a rewatch of all of Batman 66 from October 2015-May 2017 on this very web site, including every episode of the TV show, the feature film, The Return of the Caped Crusaders, and a bunch of ancillary stuff (including Alexander the Great).  Check him out on Patreon.

Purr-fectly Mediocre — Catwoman

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Catwoman made her initial appearance in the very first issue of Batman’s solo title in 1940 as “The Cat.” A cat-burglar named Selina Kyle, she quickly became a popular member of Batman’s rogues’ gallery, and the most prominent female member of same.

The main difference between Catwoman and Batman’s other foes, like the Joker, the Penguin, and so on, was that there was a certain amount of sexual tension. Mostly that was expressed in the middle of the 20th century as good old-fashioned sexism, as Batman treated Catwoman with more respect and a lot of drooling because she was a girl.

Then Catwoman appeared in the 1966 TV series starting Adam West, and her popularity as a character skyrocketed.

Portrayed by Julie Newmar in the first two seasons of the show, by Lee Meriwether in the movie released between those two seasons, and by Eartha Kitt in season three, Catwoman was the unexpected hit in the TV series rogues’ gallery. Cesar Romero, Frank Gorshin, and Burgess Meredith appeared in multiple episodes each of the first season, but Newmar only appeared in one two-parter. She created enough of an impression that the character was used in the movie alongside the big three (re-cast due to Newmar’s unavailability), and she then went on to make more appearances in season two than anyone not actually listed in the opening credits.

In the comics, Catwoman was never a killer, and never 100% evil, but always in it mainly for the money. Based in part on Jean Harlow, she was someone to whom Batman was attracted, whom he tried to reform rather than simply capture, and whom he would sometimes let escape.

When DC rebooted their heroes in the 1950s and 1960s, with new versions of Flash and Green Lantern, they established that the older heroes were fictional—at least until the Golden Age Flash met up with Barry Allen in 1961’s infamous “Flash of Two Worlds” in The Flash #123, making it an alternate timeline. It was later established that the Golden Age, or “Earth-Two,” versions of Batman and Catwoman that were active during the second World War eventually married after Selina Kyle retired.

As time went on, Batman and Catwoman’s relationship became more and more complicated. In 1987, Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s retelling of Batman’s origin in the “Batman: Year One” story in Batman #404-407 gave Kyle’s background as a sex worker with an affinity for cats. This led to Catwoman’s first miniseries, by Mindy Newell and J.J. Birch in 1989, and in the 1990s, Catwoman got her own monthly series, initially by Jo Duffy and Jim Balent, and she has had her own titles on and off ever since. She’s been portrayed as more of a morally dodgy hero, or an antihero, since getting her own series two and a half decades ago, and her origin has been reinterpreted and retold many times, including connections to the Gotham City mob in The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale. Recent reboots of DC have made Batman and Catwoman into an actual couple, complete with a marriage proposal in Batman #32 released late last year.

The next time after the Adam West series that the character appeared onscreen was in 1992’s Batman Returns, with Michelle Pfeiffer playing a radically different version of Selina Kyle. A mousy secretary who is killed after discovering corporate espionage by her boss, she’s seemingly revived by a bunch of cats and becomes an Olympic-level athlete with a taste for revenge. She’s seemingly killed along with that boss, but is seen in the closing shot of the movie, implying that she’d appear again.

While Tim Burton was removed from the Bat-franchise after Batman Returns, he was nonetheless interested in doing a Catwoman spinoff. Initially, it was to be directed by Burton, written by Returns co-writer Daniel Walters, and Pfeiffer was to reprise the role. But it languished in development hell, Burton and Pfeiffer moved on, and eventually—after both Ashley Judd and Nicole Kidman were announced as playing the part—a movie called Catwoman was released in 2004 starring Halle Berry, playing a woman named Patience Phillips, who is transformed into Catwoman. While Walters wrote a script, which he turned in to Warner Bros. in 1995, none of it was used, with numerous hands working on it (including John Rogers, creator of Leverage and developer of The Librarians, and also a former comic book writer). French visual effects guru and second-unit director Pitof was brought in to helm it, only his second feature film in the director’s chair.

To call this movie a flop undersells it. It swept the Golden Raspberry Awards, with Berry being one of only half a dozen people to win both an Oscar and a Razzie (the former for Monster’s Ball in 2001). It has been pretty universally panned. And it never made back its budget, even including international receipts.

Despite this, the character has continued to be popular in the comics and on screen. Kyle appeared in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises, the conclusion of his late 2000s Bat-trilogy (which we’ll get to in this rewatch in a month or two), played by Anne Hathaway, and a younger version of Kyle is played by Camren Bicondova in the FOX TV series Gotham. The character has also been seen extensively in animation, going all the way back to Filmation’s two Batman series in the late 1960s and mid-1970s (voiced by Jane Webb and Melendy Britt, respectively), and also regularly appearing in Batman: The Animated Series (voiced by Adrienne Barbeau), The Batman (voiced by Gina Gershon), and Batman: The Brave and the Bold (voiced by Nika Futterman).

 

“You’re not a hero, you’re just a little girl playing dress-up”

 Catwoman
Written by Theresa Rebeck and John Brancato & Michael Ferris and John Rogers
Directed by Pitof
Produced by Denise Di Novi and Edward L. McDonnell
Original release date: July 23, 2004

Patience Phillips is an artist who does design work for a cosmetics company, Hedare Beauty. Hedare is about to release a new skin cream, and they’re also unveiling a new model. Owner George Hedare announces that his wife, Laurel, will be stepping back from her role as spokesmodel for Hedare.

Hedare is also displeased with Phillips’s latest designs, saying it wasn’t what he wanted. Phillips is too much of a shrinking violet to tell Hedare that she gave him what he asked for. Laurel talks him out of firing her, and she has one day to fix it.

That night, she sees a gray cat on the ledge outside her apartment. She climbs out to rescue the moggy, but then the cat disappears—and Phillips is stuck standing on an unstable air conditioner. Detective Tom Lone sees this, assumes she’s a jumper, and dashes up to save her. He breaks into her apartment and pulls her in—where they both see the cat sitting in Phillps’s apartment like she owns the place. Lone didn’t believe there was a cat until he saw her, and he apologizes. She rushes off, as she has to get to work, but drops her wallet.

As she plugs away at the artwork, Lone shows up at her office and gives her the wallet back, and also asks her out to coffee the next day. Encouraged by her coworkers, she accepts.

Burning the late-night oil, Phillips gets the art done at 11:43. Unfortunately, all the messenger services are closed, and so she has to get it to the manufacturing plant herself.

When she arrives, she overhears Dr. Slavicky, the scientist who developed the new face cream, getting cold feet. He’s okay with the headaches and addictive properties of the cream, but if women stop using it, their skin gets all yucky. He’s okay with pain and addiction, but draws the line at looking ugly. Swell guy.

Phillips overhears this, and security is all over her. They shoot at her and lure her into a spillway, which they then flood. Phillips drowns, only to be rescued by the gray cat and several dozen more cats, who manage to pull her from the river and revive her. She stumbles back to her apartment on foot, moving like a cat.

She wakes up sleeping on a shelf, having apparently bathed herself and changed clothes. (The clothes she drowned in are in a heap under the broken window.) There’s a message on her answering machine from Lone—she missed their coffee date. She has no memory of anything that happened the previous day. The gray cat is there, and she has an address on her collar.

Going there, Phillips meets Ophelia, your prototypical crazy cat lady, who explains that the gray cat—whose name is Midnight—is an avatar of Bast, the Egyptian god who has endowed various women over the centuries with special abilities after resurrecting them. She shows Phillips clippings and photos of other “catwomen” throughout the ages. (One of the pictures looks a lot like Selina Kyle in Batman Returns….)

When she shows up at work, finally, Hedare yells at her for disappearing and not knowing where the art is. Phillips is timid at first, then mouths off at Hedare, who fires her for her impudence. The long-suffering staff all applaud her.

She tracks down Lone, who’s giving a talk to some schoolkids. She gives him a cup of coffee with “sorry” written on it. They go out to the basketball court and the kids encourage Lone and Phillips to play one-on-one. Phillips kicks his ass at ball.

Phillips becomes more and more outgoing, changing her hair, actually wearing the leather outfit a coworker got her, stopping a jewel heist just so she can steal a jewel herself, and tracking down the guys who killed her. She finds one at a club, and he reveals that they were just under orders.

She goes to the manufacturing plant only to find Slavicky’s dead body. A maintenance worker sees her standing over the body, and he sounds the alarm. The press now believes that some “Catwoman” killed Slavicky.

Catwoman then goes to the Hedare mansion, where Laurel lays the blame for Slavicky’s murder on her husband, from whom she is long estranged. Laurel tells Catwoman where to find Hedare and his new model. She goes to the play they’re attending, and torments Hedare, but is interrupted in her attempt to kill him by the cops—including Lone. They fight backstage, and Catwoman gets away.

Back at the precinct, Lone realizes that the handwriting on a bag left behind at the jewelry heist (which contained all the jewels the other thieves intended to steal, save for the one gem Catwoman was after) is a close match with the writing on the cup Phillips gave him. After another date with Phillips, he brings evidence from her apartment to the lab, and confirms that Phillips is Catwoman.

Laurel contacts Catwoman and summons her to the mansion. It turns out that Laurel is the real bad guy here. Hedare knew nothing about the face cream’s negative side effects, nor one other salient point: consistent exposure to the cream turns the skin marble hard. Catwoman arrives to find Hedare’s body, his face scratched, and his body full of bullets from a weapon that Laurel tosses at Catwoman right before she calls security and starts crying.

Catwoman is now accused of Hedare’s murder, and Lone shows up at her apartment to arrest her. Heartbroken, she goes quietly, but also tells him during the interrogation that things are not what they seem. She reminds him that when they first met, all the evidence pointed to her being a jumper, but she was really a person trying to rescue a cat.

Midnight shows up in her cell, squeezing through the bars. She realizes that she can do likewise, and escapes by squeezing herself through the bars. She then confronts Laurel, but her marble skin makes her a difficult opponent. Eventually, though, Catwoman is triumphant when Laurel falls out a high-story window—even hard skin won’t save you from that kind of fall.

Catwoman goes free, exonerated of her accused crimes, but she refuses to get into a relationship with Lone, as she needs to be free to do as she pleases. Y’know, like a cat.

 

“What are you? A hero? A thief? A murderer?”

I never actually saw this film before. I chose to believe the hype and did not see it in theatres, nor did I ever get around to watching it on home video until this week.

Here’s the thing: it’s not as bad as everyone says it is.

This is mostly because it’s not really possible for it to be as bad as everyone says it is. I mean, this is a movie that has a decent budget, camerawork that is done in a professional manner, and actual good actors. Not that this is the best performance by any of them, but still, at least they’re capable.

All this is damning with faint praise, of course. While the movie isn’t as dreadful as everyone said, it also isn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, good.

Let’s start with something that rarely gets play: holy crap, the CGI is horrendous. Early 21st-century CGI was always hit-or-miss, but it’s fascinating to look at Spider-Man, then Daredevil, then Hulk, then Catwoman—the movies were released in that order, yet the CGI work for each one is noticeably worse than the previous one, with Catwoman being the worst offender, as the CGI version of Catwoman is awkward and stilted. It looks more like a video game than a person, it’s just horrible.

The plot shines a bigger light on the fact that Tim Burton evinced no interest in the comics version of Catwoman, as the character Michelle Pfeiffer bore no resemblance to any of the versions of Selina Kyle we’ve seen in four-color form since 1940. And this movie takes as its inspiration, not any of the comics versions of Catwoman, but instead the 1992 Bat-film, as Patience Phillips’s storyline follows the exact same beats as Pfeiffer’s version of Kyle.

There is a comic book that it does take inspiration from, though, and it’s The Crow. Both this movie and that 1994 film (along with its three virtually identical sequels) share those story beats with the Catwoman portion of Batman Returns. But where Returns had a whole bunch of other things going on (not to mention Michelle fucking Pfeiffer), and where The Crow at least had some serious style, this movie has nothing. (Though, amusingly, Michael Massee is in both The Crow and Catwoman.) Halle Berry is a very good actor, but while she didn’t deserve the Razzie, she is very flat in this movie. The performance is all surface. She goes through the (literal) motions of acting cat-like, but only sometimes. She acts like a badass, but only sometimes. We get no sense of the pain she suffers, no sense of any kind of agony. She’s shy and retiring, but it’s nowhere near the crippling social anxiety that Pfeiffer portrayed in Kyle.

Worse, the script doesn’t commit to the transformation. Even after she’s resurrected, she still acts just like Patience Phillips sometimes, and Catwoman other times. There’s not enough depth of performance of either one to really make into a proper split personality, it’s just different facial expressions. And while Berry does the cat-like movements well when she’s called upon to do so, she’s only so called sometimes. It’s just a maddening performance, one that refuses to commit.

One of the reasons why The Crow and Batman Returns worked is that Eric Draven and Selina Kyle were completely transformed into the forces of vengeance. Patience Phillips is still mostly Patience Phillips, except when she’s Catwoman, kinda.

The “surprise” that Laurel is the real bad guy is less of one because Hedare is played by some French dude and Laurel is played by Sharon bloody Stone—of course Stone’s character is the bad guy! And her motivations are poorly explicated. Why is she so willing to commit murder to cover up the problems with the face cream? Why commit the worst possible felony when you can just, I dunno, do a little more R&D and not make a face cream that will open you to all kinds of lawsuits down the line? It might have been cool to give Laurel an empowerment agenda, wanting to make women physically stronger than men, thus negating that particular advantage that the male of the species has. However, we never get that, we just get Stone being evil. Snore.

And then there’s Benjamin Bratt, who looks very pretty but, as usual, brings no depth to his character. I first saw Bratt on Law & Order, and I thought he was a decent actor, but everything I’ve seen him in since made me realize that standing next to Jerry Orbach’s magnificence was making him look better than he was.

Ultimately, though, the main culprit is director Pitof, whose direction is, bluntly, awful. The action is poorly visualized, the performances are lifeless and one-dimensional, and the look of the movie is bland as hell. Pitof’s background is visual effects, so you’d think he’d lens a better feast for the eyes than this irritatingly bright movie.

Is it the worst superhero adaptation ever? Not really. While it bears no resemblance to the comics character, it’s very much a sequel to Batman Returns, as it’s taking its cues from that version, and gives Catwoman a history that could be interesting in a better movie. The movie’s failures are directly related to a script that goes through the motions and does nothing interesting with the concept, a director who gives us nothing visually or performance-wise to sink our teeth into, and actors who don’t go past the surface of their characters.

 

Next week, we’ll look at another movie that (a) has some serious miscasting but (b) also isn’t anywhere near as bad as everyone says it is, the movie Constantine.

Keith R.A. DeCandido is one of the author guests at Balticon 52 this weekend in Baltimore, Maryland. He’ll be spending lots of time at the eSpec Books table hawking his wares (most notably the re-releases by eSpec of Dragon Precinct, Unicorn Precinct, Goblin Precinct, and Tales from Dragon Precinct), and he’ll also be doing panels and things. His full schedule is here.

Rebirth of the Bat — Batman Begins

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After the soul-destroying horrendousness of Batman & Robin in 1997, Warner Bros. kept trying to figure out ways to restart the Batman film franchise, which went from the hottest thing since sliced bread in 1989 to the poster-child for awful superhero movies eight years later. The planned fifth film in the 1990s series, Batman Unchained, to be directed again by Joel Schumacher, was scrapped when B&R failed like a big giant failing thing, and Warner decided to start over.

They finally did it with Christopher Nolan, fresh off his success with Memento.

Warner’s notion pretty much from the minute they decided to abandon moving forward with Unchained was to do an adaptation of Frank Miller & David Mazzucchelli’s groundbreaking “Batman: Year One” story arc in issues #404-407 of Batman from 1987. Schumacher had expressed interest in doing that film, and in addition at one point Miller and Darren Aronofsky were attached to an adaptation of the comic. Warner later hired both the Wachowskis and Joss Whedon to write scripts for a “Year One” film, but neither wowed the execs. (I would’ve loved to have seen Aronofsky or the Wachowskis take this one. Whedon not so much—while I’d love to see his take on Superman, I can’t see him getting Batman.) M. Night Shyamalan was also at one point attached to direct.

Finally, after a few other projects stalled, they hired Nolan and David S. Goyer in 2003. Nolan’s self-professed “jumping-off” point was a comics story by Denny O’Neil & Dick Giordano that appeared in the Secret Origins trade paperback in 1989. Using various bits of Bat-backstory over the decades, O’Neill wrote a story that told of Bruce Wayne’s adventures learning everything he could in the years between the death of his parents and his adoption of the cape and cowl. (Kind of what we’re seeing done in Gotham, only, y’know, not bonkers.) In addition, Goyer based his story not just on “Year One,” but also on the Jeph Loeb/Tim Sale miniseries The Long Halloween, which was a sequel to “Year One” that dug into the Falcone crime family.

Christian Bale had been champing at the bit to play Batman ever since he read a copy of Grant Morrison & Dave McKean’s Arkham Asylum graphic novel. He was connected to Aronofsky’s version of the film, and he nailed his audition with Nolan. Others who were considered included Henry Cavill (who would later go on to take over Superman in the current DC Extended Universe), Cillian Murphy (whose audition was strong enough for Nolan to offer him the consolation prize of playing Scarecrow), Heath Ledger (who would wind up being one of the villains in the next film in the series), Billy Crudup (later to play Dr. Manhattan in Watchmen), David Boreanaz (who had already made a name for himself as the dark and brooding Angel in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel), Josh Hartnett (who would go on to star in Sin City), and more.

Nolan generally wanted an A-list cast, as he felt it would lend more gravitas to the proceedings (a philosophy also followed by Kevin Feige at Marvel Studios), hence the hiring not only of Bale, but also Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Rutger Hauer, Katie Holmes, Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman, Ken Watanabe, and Tom Wilkinson. This was Caine’s first film with Nolan, but far from the last, as he’s been in pretty much every Nolan film since. In addition, Nolan would work with both Bale (The Prestige) and Watanabe (Inception) after this.

 

“Bats frighten me—it’s time my enemies shared my dread” 

Batman Begins
Written by David S. Goyer & Christopher Nolan
Directed by Christopher Nolan
Produced by Charles Roven and Emma Thomas and Larry Franco
Original release date: June 15, 2005

 

Young Bruce Wayne is playing in the yard of the mansion his parents own, along with Rachel Dawes, the daughter of the maid. They find an old arrowhead on the ground, then Bruce falls into an unseen hole in the ground and is badly hurt and also frightened by the many bats that fly out at him.

Adult Bruce wakes up from a nightmare of remembering that fall. He’s in a prison in Bhutan, where he’s made a habit of beating up the other inmates. He’s freed by a man who calls himself Ducard and says he works for Ra’s al-Ghul. Ra’s is the head of the League of Shadows, a covert organization that tries to maintain order and justice. Ducard trains Bruce in various martial arts (judo, ninjitsu, and kendo, at the very least) and also in how to be aware of his surroundings.

At one point, Bruce tells Ducard why he is training himself: he wants to be a force for justice after his parents were killed. When Bruce was a boy, he and his parents came into Gotham on the monorail that Thomas Wayne built for the city with his considerable monies, and saw the opera. But Bruce finds himself reminded of the bats, and asks to leave early. On the way home, they’re mugged, Bruce’s parents killed. Bruce is comforted by Officer James Gordon, and then is told by Detective Loeb that they got the guy who did it, Joe Chill.

Years later, Bruce comes home after being kicked out of Princeton in order to attend a hearing for Chill, who is promised early release in exchange for testimony against crime boss Carmine Falcone. As soon as the judge lets him go, he’s shot outside the courthouse—to Bruce’s disappointment, as he’d gotten a gun into the courthouse, er, somehow and was intending to shoot Chill himself.

Rachel, who is now an assistant district attorney, drives him down to where Falcone hangs out—along with several of the judges, politicians, and cops on his payroll, among them the judge who let Chill go. It’s likely that the hearing was a way to get Chill out in public so he could be shot and killed to protect Falcone. Rachel leaves Bruce there, to see the reality of life in Gotham for people who aren’t billionaires. Bruce confronts Falcone, but Falcone is unimpressed and has Bruce beaten up and left out on the street.

Jumping ahead to the present, Ducard has a penultimate test for Bruce, which he passes by fooling Ducard into thinking he’s somewhere he isn’t. But the final test is to kill a murderer—and that’s a line that Bruce won’t cross. Instead, he tries to escape; he sets a fire that causes the gunpowder Ra’s keeps to explode. Ra’s is accidentally killed by a falling ceiling beam after a prolonged fight with Bruce. Bruce pulls Ducard from the fire and then travels home.

The Wayne family butler, Alfred, who raised Bruce, is still living at the mansion, and welcomes Bruce home. Bruce has been missing for more than seven years and he’s been declared dead, so there’s that to untangle. He goes to Wayne Enterprises to find that CEO William Earle is going to take the company public. Bruce asks for a job to get to know the company he’ll inherit better, and Earle sends him to Lucius Fox in development—which is pretty much a black hole in the company where old projects go to die. Fox is a bit of a gadfly, and he questioned Earle once too often. Many of his projects are things they developed for the military that were either impractical or too expensive (or both), including a Kevlar bodysuit, a tank, and a smart cloth that can reshape itself into something rigid. Bruce takes one of each…

At Alfred’s suggestion, Bruce cultivates an idle rich goofy-ass playboy persona for public consumption, while he puts bat-insignia on the bodysuit and fashions graphite helmets with bat-ears so he can be the thing that he fears: a bat.

As Batman, he torments Falcone’s people, assembling evidence for Rachel, with help from now-Sergeant Gordon. He actually manages to tie Falcone directly to drug-smuggling.

However, Falcone has an arrangement with Dr. Jonathan Crane. Many of Falcone’s thugs have been declared insane by Crane after arrest, and sentenced to Arkham Asylum, and then released fairly soon by one of the judges in Falcone’s pocket. When he’s arrested, Falcone himself gets the same treatment—but Crane is concerned that Falcone might talk about him and their mutual big boss, so he uses a hallucinogenic on Falcone that makes him see his greatest fears.

Falcone’s drug shipments have been split in two. Half go to street dealers, but no one seems to know where the other half goes, not even Gordon’s incredibly corrupt partner Flass. When Batman tracks down Crane, Crane hits him with the hallucinogenic. Batman is barely rescued by Alfred, and he’s out for two days before Fox can synthesize an antidote. Meanwhile the DA discovers that Falcone’s impounded evidence includes one more crate than on the manifest—it turns out to contain a microwave gun from Wayne Enterprises that can vaporize a water supply. The DA is shot after discovering this.

Rachel comes by the Wayne mansion to give Bruce a birthday present: the arrowhead they found as kids. She then says she has to look into Falcone deeper, as her boss has been missing for two days.

When Rachel arrives at Arkham, she declares that she wants her own shrink to look at Falcone, not Crane, and Crane can’t let that happen, so he gasses Rachel right after he shows her that they’ve been putting his hallucinogenic in the water supply.

Batman is able to rescue Rachel and also interrogate Crane after giving him a taste of his own medicine. He says he’s working for Ra’s al-Ghul, but Batman doesn’t believe that, because he saw Ra’s die. He takes Rachel to the Batmobile and escapes after a lengthy pursuit from the cops.

Earle learns that the microwave gun has gone missing. He asks Fox about the weapon’s capabilities, and then when Fox starts asking questions, Earle fires him.

Bruce is holding a birthday party at his mansion, and Fox is there as well. After bringing Rachel to the Batcave and curing her, Bruce heads up to the party urges Fox to synthesize more of the antidote.

A woman introduces Bruce to Ra’s al-Ghul—a different person from the one Bruce met in Bhutan. Then Ducard steps forward—turns out, he was Ra’s all along. He feels that Gotham is beyond saving, and he plans to use Crane’s hallucinogenic to make all the citizens of Gotham sick with fear, and the city will tear itself apart.

Bruce pretends to throw a tantrum in order to get his party guests to leave, but Ra’s doesn’t care about them. He burns the mansion down, and leaves Bruce for dead, though he’s saved by Alfred.

Suiting up in the Batcave, he meets up with Gordon. Ra’s has freed the inmates from Arkham, and the GCPD has their hands full with the escapees. Ra’s is riding with the monorail to Wayne Tower to activate the microwave gun, which will vaporize Gotham’s water supply, thus making Crane’s hallucinogenic airborne. Batman gives Gordon the keys to the Batmobile instructing him to blow up the monorail before the train can get there. Meantime, Batman confronts Ra’s on the train. Lengthy fisticuffs ensue, and too late Ra’s realizes that the fight was just a distraction so he wouldn’t notice that Gordon blew up the tracks. Batman escapes and Ra’s plummets to his doom.

With Falcone arrested, Crane discredited (though still at large), and the League of Shadows broken, things are better in Gotham. Rachel has figured out that Bruce is Batman, and kisses him in the wreckage of the Wayne mansion before saying she can’t be with him because of his dual life. Many of the various charities and small corporations that bought shares in Wayne Enterprises’ public offering were actually owned by Bruce, so he’s now majority stockholder, and he fires Earle and replaces him with Fox. Gordon is promoted to lieutenant and has set up the bat-signal. He also tells Batman about some guy who’s been robbing banks and leaving Joker cards behind…

 

“Why do we fall?”

A great movie about Batman’s early days, with flashbacks to his origin, a love that can’t happen, lots of gangsters, and one of Batman’s iconic comics villains—I am, of course, talking about the 1993 animated film Mask of the Phantasm. A spinoff of the brilliant 1990s Batman: The Animated Series produced by Bruce Timm—which remains the best adaptation of Batman ever—Mask covers a lot of the same territory as Begins. Screenwriter Goyer insisted that he was more influenced by The Long Halloween than he was the “Year One” storyline, but I find it impossible to credit that he wasn’t at least a little bit influenced by the 1993 animated feature, too (which also took cues from “Year One”).

The thing is, almost everything that you see in both movies, Phantasm does better. Better Batman, better headlining bad guy, better love interest, better gangsters, better action sequences, better pre-costume attempt to be a vigilante, better surprise reveal of one of the bad guys. (Plus, there’s no scene in Begins that’s as devastatingly, eerily, scarily effective as Batman’s interrogation of Councilman Reeves in the hospital in Phantasm.)

Not to say that Begins is a bad film, but it’s nowhere near as good as its outsized reputation. Said rep is probably at least in part due to its competition which, as we’ve seen in this rewatch, was abysmal. 2005 was quite possibly the nadir of 21st-century comic book adaptations, with such gems as Elektra, Constantine, Son of the Mask, Man-Thing, The Crow: Wicked Prayer, and Fantastic Four. Plus this is the guy who did Memento! And it’s got Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine and Christian Bale and Liam Neeson and stuff!

There are elements that work. I like the idea that a lot of Batman’s best training came from one of his greatest enemies. Ra’s al-Ghul has always been a particularly compelling enemy of Batman’s, and Neeson actually plays him well—while he’s inferior to David Warner’s voice on the animated series, he’s better than either Alexander Siddig on Gotham (who’s actually good in the role) or Matt Nable on Arrow (who really wasn’t). I like Gary Oldman’s Gordon, who is very much like the Gordon of “Year One” (whatever Miller’s flaws as a writer, he always wrote Gordon well, as he’s the best character in both “Year One” and The Dark Knight Returns). I especially like how he doesn’t participate in the corruption but won’t rat on his fellows, either. But he has an innate goodness and desire to help people—you can see it etched in his pores, and you have no trouble believing that Batman focuses on it when he recruits Gordon.

I’m very fond of the notion that part of Batman’s training was in learning how criminals think. It’s borne of his conversation with Falcone, where the gangster points out to the entitled rich kid that he’ll never understand the behavior of a desperate person like Chill who’s driven to theft and murder. So he goes out to do so, and by the time Ra’s/Ducard finds him, he refuses to kill—he’s seen the desperation that Falcone said he couldn’t understand, and he won’t set himself up as executioner. I’m glad that Nolan understands this fundamentally important aspect of Batman’s character, and I also like that he went on a journey to get there, from taking a gun to kill Chill himself to eventually realizing that he can’t be the one to take a life the way Chill took away his parents’.

Having said that, Nolan tries to eat his cake and have it too, since he is creating a summer blockbuster, and our bloodthirsty society still insists that the bad guy must die in the end. So Batman lets Ra’s die on the train rather than try to save him, which is the opposite of how Batman would behave. Admittedly, this is the guy who burned his house down and was about to kill an entire city, not to mention his hinting that he may have been responsible for murdering his parents. That, at least, is left sufficiently vague—it could’ve been simply Ra’s trying to get a rise out of Bruce—but I’m really tired of all the attempts to add artificial meaning to Batman’s origin, whether it’s Jack Napier having been the one to do it in 1989’s Batman or the Court of Owls conspiracy in Gotham. What made it so devastating was that it was just a random act of violence, endemic of Gotham City’s problems. Making the Waynes a deliberate target defeats the purpose and cuts off Bruce’s own grief and narrative at the knees.

Also, you’ll notice that I’ve been saying “parents” a lot, though you’d be forgiven if, after watching this movie, you’d be surprised to learn that Bruce Wayne had a mother. Played by Sara Stewart, they may as well have just hired a blonde extra, because she has no dialogue, no character, no personality, no relevance to the storyline. None of Bruce’s memories are of her, and nobody ever even mentions her, it’s always “your father” this and “your father” that. Zack Snyder has come in for lots of flack for trying to make Golden Age writers’ inability to come up with more than one name for their flagship heroes’ Moms into a plot point, but at least Batman v. Superman acknowledged Martha Wayne’s existence.

The performances in this movie are generally good, though I found myself least impressed with the title character. Surprisingly for someone as famously method as Bale, I found his performance to be a little too surface-y without much by way of depth. Since the entire movie was about Bruce’s journey, it left me a bit flat. (Again, Kevin Conroy did way better with just his voice in Phantasm.) Michael Caine, at least, keeps the streak of superlative Alfreds in live action going—like Alan Napier and Michael Gough before him and Sean Pertwee and Jeremy Irons after him, Caine is rock-solid in the role of Batman’s lone support.

Though he isn’t actually Batman’s lone support, as he also has Fox and Dawes, neither of whom quite land. In the 1989 film, Joker famously asked, “Where does he get those wonderful toys?” and actually answering that question mostly leads to eye-rolling, as poor Morgan Freeman is stuck in the role of Magical Negro Q, providing Batman with Chekhov’s Armory, equipment that happens to be perfect for crime-fighting while dressed as a bat but wasn’t mass-produced for various plot-convenient reasons.

As for Dawes, the filmmakers allegedly wanted to have Harvey Dent in that role, but they found it wasn’t working, so they changed it to his childhood friend-turned-prosecutor, and I call bullshit. Except for the kiss at the end, you can swap out Dent for Dawes easily without changing a single line of dialogue or a single plot point, and you’d have bonus foreshadowing for the next movie to boot! (Having said that, Dent is one of the best elements of that next movie—but we’ll talk about that in a week…) I’m firmly convinced that the nonsense about not being able to do justice to Dent’s character was just that: nonsense. Just as the bad guy must die in the end to satisfy Hollywood blockbuster clichés, your macho male lead must have a love interest to fulfill other Hollywood blockbuster clichés, never mind that (the current storyline in the comics with Batman and Catwoman getting married notwithstanding) Batman and romance has never been a strong fit. You’d think Nolan would have learned from the sodden attempts at romance in the two Tim Burton films. (I hasten to add that none of this is Katie Holmes’s fault. She also came in for flack after this film as its weak point, but that’s a script problem, not an acting problem. She did just fine.)

You’d also think that Nolan would have not taken his fight-scene cues from the incomprehensible jump-cutting of the Burton and Schumacher films, but he does the same thing, making it pretty much impossible to follow what the hell’s going on during the action scenes. This is especially bad during the film’s endless climax, as we’re treated to the low comedy of Gordon driving the Batmobile, while the train Batman and Ra’s fight on seems to be on an asymptotic curve, getting closer and closer to Wayne Tower, but never arriving (it’s like Lancelot’s run toward the castle in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which isn’t a touchstone you want in your super-serious, realistic superhero movie).

Also, they don’t call it the Batmobile, because in a movie that’s about a rich guy who dresses up as a giant bat, in a movie in which the plot involves poisoning the water supply with fear gas and using a big ray gun to evaporate all the water to make it airborne, they thought using the word “Batmobile” would be silly. Right.

The secondary bad guys are hit-and-miss. Cillian Murphy is brilliant as Crane—he honestly deserved to be the primary villain of a film rather than Ra’s’s flunky—but Tom Wilkinson is incredibly bland as Falcone. Phantasm had much better bad guys. Hart Bochner was as good as Murphy in his role as Reeves; all three actors who played gangsters in the animated film—Abe Vigoda, Dick Miller, and John P. Ryan—were light-years better than Wilkinson; and as good as Neeson is, he can’t hold a candle to Mark Hamill’s Joker, still the best comic book villain ever realized on screen (and yes, that includes the guy we’ll be talking about next week). Dana Delaney’s Andrea Beaumont is a much better love interest than Holmes’s Dawes, and the reveal that she’s really the Phantasm is way more effective than the revelation that Ducard is Ra’s. (Here’s a hint, guys—if you don’t want us to guess that Liam Neeson is playing an iconic comics character, don’t give him the same facial hair as said iconic comics character. Back in ’05 I guessed he was Ra’s right away.)

Begins is a good movie, but it falls very far short of being as good as it could be. Declared the best Bat-movie ever made at the time of its release, it isn’t even the best Bat-movie with this plot.

However, it was a massive success. Nolan had envisioned a trilogy, with the beginning, middle, and end of Batman’s career, and next week we’ll take a look at that middle, with our rewatch of The Dark Knight.

Keith R.A. DeCandido is pleased that all five books in his Precinct series of fantasy police procedurals are now available from eSpec Books: Dragon Precinct, Unicorn Precinct, Goblin Precinct, Gryphon Precinct, and Tales from Dragon Precinct. Ordering links can be found here. He’s hard at work on Mermaid Precinct, and hopes to have it out this fall.

“Why so serious?”— The Dark Knight

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David S. Goyer wrote a treatment for two followup films to Batman Begins, the first involving the Joker—as teased at the very end of the prior film—and the second involving Two-Face. Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathan wound up condensing the two into one movie, which they called The Dark Knight. This was the first Batman movie not to have “Batman” in its title, though that particular phrase had eclipsed “the Caped Crusader” as the most common nickname associated with Bruce Wayne’s alter ego ever since Frank Miller & Klaus Janson’s landmark 1985 miniseries The Dark Knight Returns.

The movie was unfortunately marred by tragedy, as Heath Ledger died shortly after completing filming his role as the Joker.

Ledger’s death meant that all eyes were on this movie even more so than they would have been—and the scrutiny was already pretty intense. Batman Begins was a huge hit both financially and critically. Lots of people were looking to the sequel to match it, but were also gun-shy, given the diminishing returns of each of the sequels to the 1989 film, culminating in the mind-numbing horror of Batman & Robin.

Adding a celebrity death to the mix just made the scrutiny sharper. So did the fact that the actor in question was playing a role that three great actors had already put their stamps on. Ledger not only had to live up to the expectations of the previous movie, but also the spectres of Cesar Romero in the Adam West TV series of the 1960s, Jack Nicholson in the 1989 film, and Mark Hamill’s voice in the 1990s animated series. (In your humble rewatcher’s opinion, Hamill’s voice remains the best interpretation of the Joker for the screen, with all due respect to Ledger’s performance and memory.)

Nolan dug deep into older Bat-comics for inspiration. One of the primary sources for the movie was Joker’s first appearances in Batman #1 from 1940, and Two-Face’s earliest appearances in Detective Comics #66, 68, and 80 from 1941 and 1943. Having said that, there’s a whole lot of the 1990s miniseries The Long Halloween here too.

Much of the cast from the first film returned: Christian Bale in the title role, Michael Caine as Alfred, Morgan Freeman as Fox, Cillian Murphy as Crane, and Gary Oldman as Gordon. Katie Holmes turned down reprising the role of Dawes, replaced by Maggie Gyllenhaal, and besides Ledger, the other primary antagonist is Aaron Eckhart, who starts out as a protagonist, new district attorney Harvey Dent. He is transformed into Two-Face part-way through the film.

 

“You wanna know how I got my scars?”

 The Dark Knight
Written by David S. Goyer & Christopher Nolan and Jonathan Nolan
Directed by Christopher Nolan
Produced by Charles Roven and Emma Thomas and Christopher Nolan
Original release date: July 14, 2008

Five people in clown masks rob a bank. Two things are unusual about this heist: the guy in charge of intercepting the silent alarm is surprised to see that the alarm doesn’t call 911, but rather a private number; and the bank manager attacks the robbers with a shotgun. Turns out that this is a mob bank. In addition, each member of the gang has been instructed by the leader to shoot one of the other people when their job is done. In the end, there’s only one person left: the Joker.

It’s been the better part of a year since Batman Begins, and the few mobsters that are left have entrusted their cash to a Hong Kong businessman named Lau. Wayne Enterprises is also talking about a contract with Lau’s company, which Wayne has initiated solely so he can get a look at Lau’s (cooked) books. In addition, as Batman, Wayne has coordinated with Gordon—now in charge of the Major Crimes Unit, which has the least corrupt cops Gordon can find in it—to irradiate the money being used by the mobsters. They can now trace it to Lau. Realizing that the police are after him, Lau retreats to Hong Kong, where he is safe from extradition.

Lau has also hidden the rest of the criminals’ money—which, at this point, are the Italians (run by Sal Maroni with Falcone in Arkham), the Russians (run by Chechen, who enforces his will with nasty dogs), and the African-Americans (run by Gambol)—in a place he is keeping secret so nobody can give the location up. In the midst of the meeting where Lau explains this via videochat from his private plane, the Joker shows up. He kills one of Gambol’s thugs and stops anyone else from trying anything by showing them his jacket full of grenades.

Joker says that he has a better offer than “the TV set.” He will kill Batman, since he’s responsible for everything that’s gone wrong. He gives them time to think about it.

There’s a new District Attorney in Gotham, Harvey Dent. He’s charismatic, a former GPD cop in Internal Affairs, and dating Rachel Dawes. He’s also incorruptible, and he quickly carves out a reputation as a strong prosecutor. He also wants in on whatever Gordon and Batman have cooked up. Initially, Gordon doesn’t trust Dent—giving him the party line that the GPD abhors vigilantism (and the bat-signal is just a weird glitch in the floodlight on MCU’s roof)—but eventually, Gordon and Batman agree to let him into the treehouse, as it were.

Unfortunately, when they try to raid the remaining mob banks where Lau is keeping the money, they find only the irradiated bills. The rest of the cash has been removed. Gordon is convinced that there’s a mole in Dent’s office, since it didn’t leak until he found out about it.

Gambol puts out a bounty on the Joker, and some dudes bring Joker to him in a body bag. Joker climbs out of the bag and kills Gambol—after telling him a story of how he got his smile-like scars—and appropriates his gang.

Batman, Fox, and Alfred figure out a way to basically kidnap Lau out of his Hong Kong office and bring him to Gotham to be arrested. Fox leaves a cell phone in Lau’s office, which has been rigged to act almost like a sonar. Wayne—who has absconded with a ballet company and taken them on his yacht as cover for Wayne’s disappearance from the city, then gone from there to a black-market South Korean plane that flies under radar—uses that to track Lau and take him back to the States, leaving him on Gordon’s doorstep with a note.

Dent and Dawes figure they can bring a RICO case against Lau, which means they can nail all the gangs—they wind up arresting dozens of people and indicting them all at once. It’s a show, and most of the higher-ups will be able to make bail and maybe even have the charges dropped, but the lower-level guys will plea bargain. Plus it sends a message that Dent is serious.

The Joker leaves three DNA traces on a Joker card that was found in the indictment of all the mobsters: Commissioner Loeb, Judge Surrillo (who’s presiding over the mob case), and Dent. Loeb is poisoned by his own Scotch, Surrillo’s car is blown up, and Joker himself tries to kill Dent at a fundraiser Wayne is holding for him to show his public support. (He also shows his private support to Dawes, letting her know that both Wayne and Batman support him, as it were.) Wayne puts Dent in a headlock and then in a closet to keep him safe, then changes to Batman to stop Joker from threatening the party guests. (While he’s changing clothes, Joker terrorizes the guests, including Dawes, whom he tells a different story about how he got his scars.)

Joker throws Dawes out a window, and Batman dives after her, saving her life, but allowing the Joker to get away. Still, Dent is saved. However, Joker’s next threat is to Mayor Garcia, and it almost works, as Joker comes very close to killing him while he’s delivering Loeb’s eulogy, but Gordon dives in front of the bullet.

After Joker announces that the killing will continue until Batman unmasks, Wayne decides to go ahead and admit who he is, after Alfred eliminates anything that will trace either Fox or Dawes to him. (Unbeknownst to Wayne, someone in the finance department named Reese has figured out that the Batmobile is Wayne tech. He goes to Fox demanding $10 million a year for the rest of his life. Fox reminds him that he’s blackmailing one of the wealthiest people in the world whom he believes to be a guy who beats the shit out of criminals every night, and is that really a good idea? Reese backs off.)

However, Dent cuts off Wayne’s sacrifice at the knees by saying that he is Batman. The GPD takes Dent into custody and he’s driven to prison in a huge convoy that is attacked by the Joker—and defended by the real Batman, and also Gordon, who faked his death to protect his family from Joker. In the end, after a lot of explosions and dead and maimed cops and civilians, Gordon and Batman manage to take Joker into custody.

Dent goes off with one of Gordon’s detectives, and never arrives at his destination. Gordon and Batman question the Joker, and only from him do they discover that Dawes is also missing. He’s put them in two different locations; Batman immediately goes to where he said Dawes is (Joker figured out that he’s sweet on her based on how quickly he leapt to her rescue) while Gordon takes a task force to where he said Dent is.

But, of course, the Joker lied. Dawes is where the cops go, and Batman goes to Dent. Both are tied up in a room filled with oil barrels. In his attempts to escape, Dent falls on the floor on his side and spills one of the barrels, covering the left side of his face in oil. Batman manages to get Dent out before Joker detonates the oil, but the left side of his face catches fire.

Gordon does not get to Dawes in time, and she’s killed.

Both Dent and Wayne are devastated. Dent refuses plastic surgery or even painkillers to deal with the scarred side of his face. His two-headed coin—which he’s used several times to pretend to flip a coin without revealing that it was two-headed—is now scarred on one side also.

Dawes left a note with Alfred to give to Wayne when the time was right. Even though she had promised that she’d wait for him to stop being Batman before she could love him properly, her heart now belongs to Dent, and she says in her note that she’s going to marry the DA. In fact, her last word to Dent was, “Yes.”

While large numbers of cops and Batman are busy rescuing Dent and Dawes, Joker manages to break out, killing several cops and also taking Lau with him.

In light of all this stuff happening, Reese decides to go public with his belief that Wayne is Batman. Before he can go on TV to do so, Joker announces that he doesn’t want the world to know who Batman is, so he threatens to destroy a hospital unless Reese is killed in an hour. Gordon and Wayne are able to stop two attempts on Reese’s life, and Joker does destroy a hospital, though not until after it’s evacuated. Joker confronts Dent in the latter’s hospital room before he blows the place up, and actually gives Dent a gun and puts it at his own head. Joker goes on about how he’s an agent of chaos because chaos is completely fair. Dent feels the only fairness is the flip of a coin, and it’s on that basis that he decides whether or not to take up Joker on his offer to shoot him.

It comes up the unscarred side, so Joker lives, and Dent escapes before the hospital blows up. Joker takes one of the buses with the evacuated patients and absconds with it. Dent goes to the cop who took him to the warehouse and kills him (the coin came scarred-side-up), but he doesn’t reveal who the other dirty cop is. So Dent goes to Maroni, who tells him it’s Ramirez. The coin comes up unscarred for Maroni, so he lives—but the driver isn’t so lucky…

Dent gets Ramirez to convince Barbara Gordon and her kids to leave her house, saying the cops guarding her aren’t trustworthy. Dent then takes Gordon’s wife and children to the same spot where Dawes died.

Wayne has created a device that can do on a larger scale what Fox did in Hong Kong, using everyone‘s cell phone as a microphone to create a sonar field. Fox is appalled, as this is unethical and a huge violation of privacy—which is why Batman has encoded it so that only Fox can use it. He’s only using it to track the Joker, and when that’s done, Batman tells him to enter his name.

Joker has made threats to the “bridge and tunnel” crowd, and scared the populace into a panic. Two ferries are taking people out of the city, one with regular citizens, one with prisoners being moved out of harm’s way. Both ferries go dark, and the crews discover that they both have explosives in the engine room. Each ship has a detonator that will blow up the other ferry. If one chooses to blow up the other boat, it’ll be spared, but if nobody chooses by midnight, both boats will be destroyed.

The civilian ferry argue over it and eventually decide to put it to a vote. It’s overwhelmingly in favor of detonating the other boat. But when it comes time to do it, nobody can press the button—not even the biggest agitator, who gets all macho until he actually has the detonator in hand.

One of the prisoners goes to the head of the guards in charge and tells him that he needs to take the detonator and “do what you shoulda did ten minutes ago.” The prisoner takes the detonator and throws it out the window.

Fox has traced Joker to an under-construction building. The hostages are there, along with his thugs—but the people in clown outfits holding guns are the hostages, the guns duct-taped to their hands and their faces hidden. Joker’s thugs are all wearing scrubs with their weapons hidden. Batman figures this out, and has to actually fight the SWAT units before they kill innocent civilians (whom they will think are bad guys who won’t drop their guns).

Batman and Joker then confront each other, and Batman stops him from detonating the ferries. When it’s over, Fox enters his name, and the entire sonar setup self-destructs.

But Joker is only half the problem. Dent has taken Gordon’s family hostage. Gordon tries to get Dent to set them free, as does Batman when he arrives, but he insists on using the coin to determine their fate. Batman tackles him before the coin can fall to determine Gordon’s son’s fate, and Batman manages to save the boy. Dent falls to his death, and Batman is pretty badly hurt.

In order to save Dent’s reputation, Batman tells Gordon to blame him for everything Dent did, including the deaths of Maroni, his driver, and two cops. They need Dent’s reputation to remain untarnished, otherwise Joker wins. Batman can take the hit—Gotham can’t.

 

“I’m an agent of chaos”

Up front let me say that The Dark Knight is, in my opinion, one of the best adaptations of a comic book ever done. There are a number of reasons for this.

For starters, this movie isn’t about Batman, it isn’t about the Joker, it isn’t about Harvey Dent or Jim Gordon—it’s about Gotham City. It reminds me a lot of The Wire—one of the three or four finest TV shows in the history of the medium—which isn’t really about any single person, but is instead about Baltimore. This is about Gotham, and how it is trying to crawl out of the depths of the previous movie, which was so bad that Ra’s al-Ghul wanted to blow it up rather than try to save it. Between Gordon and his less corruptible MCU (though not as incorruptible as Gordon himself might have hoped), Batman and his war on the criminal element, and prosecutors like Dent and Dawes, there’s actual hope in Gotham.

Into this comes the Joker, who is a self-stated agent of chaos. He does everything he can to stir the pot, from messing with the money made from criminality to threatening, and sometimes taking, the lives of prominent citizens to generally making people paranoid and scared. He’s a nihilist, with no desire to actually kill Batman, nor to accumulate wealth (he burns most of the money he gets from Lau), just to bring on the crazy.

Ledger’s Joker is a fascinating characterization—less completely batshit than the Nicholson or Hamill versions, not as goofy as Romero, and in many ways closer to the 1940s version of the character, albeit a 21st-century interpretation of that version. But he’s less a character than he is a force of nature, which is why I ultimately think he’s not the most interesting person in the movie. He’s a living catalyst, but he’s not actually a character.

No, the antagonist that makes my skin crawl, the one that I find frightening and effective isn’t the agent of chaos, it’s the hero who is destroyed and broken down and turned into a villain. Two-Face has always been one of Batman’s most fascinating villains, and he’s generally done right by here, though the story keeps the villain from attaining his true potential as a foe for Batman. Having said that, the story does do the most important part, which is the tragedy of Dent’s existence, which has been the heart of the character for seven decades. Eckhart gives the performance of a lifetime here, giving us Dent’s heroism, his passion, his anger—we see his dark side long before the explosion that destroys half his face. And we see how he’s utterly broken, not just by the explosion, but by losing Dawes. Gotham’s white knight has been corrupted utterly, turned into a murderer, the perfect embodiment of Joker’s corrupting influence.

But it’s not universal. There’s a lot of talk of heroism in this movie, with Batman insisting that he’s not a hero, and Gordon agreeing with him, saying that instead he’s a guardian—and maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. These three movies in general and this movie in particular tries to look at Batman-as-hero from many different angles. However, he’s not the biggest hero in the movie. That distinction goes jointly to the prisoner and the civilian passenger who choose not to blow up their fellows. And yes, the asshole who changes his mind is a hero because he thought it through. He recognized what responsibility he had taken on, to kill a boatful of people. Yes, most of them were criminals (though there were also guards and cops on board, not to mention the boat’s crew). But he would not kill them. And the prisoner who unhesitatingly tossed the detonator in one of the great misdirect scenes of all time was an even bigger hero because he knew the score. Both boats agreed that the prisoners “deserved” to die more, but the truth is that nobody deserves to die, and death is something that should be put off as long as possible, because you can’t take it back. That’s why Batman won’t kill—a rule that Nolan mercifully keeps intact, to the point that Batman is thrice tempted to kill Joker but refuses.

There are a lot of great performances here, but the ones that left me flattest are the two leads. Christian Bale’s performance is still all surface, though he has some excellent moments, particularly with Michael Caine’s Alfred. (“I suppose they’ll lock me up as well, as your accomplice.” “Accomplice? I’m going to tell them it was all your idea…”) Ledger is much the same—but then that’s actually fitting for their places in this film, because they’re both extreme symbols, Batman of order, the Joker of chaos. They’re not characters, they’re living archetypes. It’s left to Gordon and Dent and Dawes and the cops and the criminals and the rest to be the actual people affected by the conflict between Batman’s attempt to bring order to the cesspool of Gotham and Joker’s attempt to tear it all back down again.

Gary Oldman mumbles a bit too much, but his performance is earnest and heartfelt as he tries to hold together a corrupt police force with both hands. Maggie Gyllenhaal purses her lips a lot as Dawes, but she’s actually less interesting than Katie Holmes was in the previous film—though that’s more the fault of the script, as Dawes’s purpose in this film is to be The Dual Love Interest, and it’s spectacularly uninteresting. She’s also the only female speaking part of consequence aside from Detective Ramirez, presented as one of Gordon’s good cops, but who turns out to be one of the dirty ones. And then Dawes gets fridged so that Dent can become Two-Face. Sigh. Morgan Freeman is Morgan bloody Freeman, while Aaron Eckhart just knocks it out of the park.

What’s best about this movie, though, and why I admire it above almost all others I have done or will do in this rewatch, is that it’s the perfect adaptation of a standard superhero comic. Far too often, movie adaptations will either change the source material so much that it’s unrecognizable, or they’ll do an origin story or they’ll do something that utterly shatters the status quo. It’s very rare to find a superhero movie that just tells the latest in the ongoing adventures of the hero(es), even though that’s what makes up 99.9% of all superhero comics, and rarer still to find such a story that is actually any good. (I mean, to give two examples, Thor: Dark World and Superman III were like that, but they were not great. Ditto Joel Schumacher’s two Bat-films in the 1990s.) But when it works, it works spectacularly well (e.g., Spider-Man: Homecoming), and it’s what these movies should be more often than not. The Dark Knight is the only one of Nolan’s trilogy that is like that, because it’s telling the middle of Batman’s career, with Begins covering the beginning of it (obviously) and The Dark Knight Rises (which we’ll cover next week) covering the end of it.

It’s also by far the best of Nolan’s trilogy at least in part because of that. This is a pure Batman adventure, and it’s also a really really really good Batman adventure.

Nolan got to finish the trilogy four years later. Next week, we’ll take a gander at The Dark Knight Rises.

Keith R.A. DeCandido will be a guest at Shore Leave 40 in Cockeysville, Maryland, just north of Baltimore, this weekend. Other guests include actors William Shatner, Ming-Na Wen, Alison Scagliotti, Shawn Ashmore, Peter Williams, Peter Kelamis, Aron Eisenberg, and Chase Masterson; fellow authors Christopher L. Bennett, Greg Cox, Peter David, Mary Fan, Michael Jan Friedman, David Mack, Mike & Denise Okuda, Hildy Silverman, Dayton Ward, Howard Weinstein, and tons more; plus science, performing, and arts guests. Keith will be there both as an author and a musician, as his band Boogie Knights will be performing Saturday morning and as the masquerade halftime. Get his full schedule here.


“Victory has defeated you”— The Dark Knight Rises

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Christopher Nolan wasn’t a hundred percent sure that he wanted to return to the Batman well, as he was worried that he’d lose interest. He also was struggling to come up with third films in series that were well regarded. (Just on the superhero end of things, you’ve got Superman III, Batman Forever, X-Men: The Last Stand, and Spider-Man 3 as cautionary tales.) But once he and his Bat-collaborators David S. Goyer and Jonathan Nolan hit on the notion of using the “Knightfall” and “No Man’s Land” storylines from the comics for inspiration for, in essence, the end of Batman’s career, he found the story he wanted to tell.

The studio was pushing for the Riddler to be the villain in the third installment, but Nolan wanted someone with a more physical presence. He focused on Bane, the antagonist in the “Knightfall” storyline from the early 1990s in which Bane broke Batman’s back, leading to first Jean-Paul Valley and then Dick Grayson wearing the cape and cowl before Bruce Wayne takes the bat-mantle back.

In addition, keeping the theme of focusing on Gotham City as a “character” in its own right in the films, Nolan took some inspiration from the chaos of the 1999 “No Man’s Land” storyline that had a major earthquake devastate Gotham.

The characters and actors who survived the last two movies all came back: Christian Bale as Batman, Michael Caine as Alfred, Morgan Freeman as Fox, Gary Oldman as Gordon (now in his familiar post as police commissioner), Cillian Murphy as Scarecrow, and Nestor Carbonell as Gotham’s mayor, plus Liam Neeson returns as a hallucination of Ra’s al-Ghul. There are also lots of new characters, most notably Anne Hathaway as the latest iteration of Catwoman and Tom Hardy as Bane. Since Bane was originally written as Latin American (from the fictional nation of Santa Prisca, located in the Caribbean), with a costume based on luchadors (Mexican wrestlers), casting a white British dude was a bit odd, though at least this version kept Bane’s intellect from the comics. (In Batman & Robin he was reduced to a mindless monster rather than the genius of the comics.) In addition, Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays an idealistic GPD cop and Marion Cotillard plays a Wayne exec with a secret. William Devane appears as the president of the United States, a job that he has fictionally had several other times (The Missiles of October, Stargate SG-1, 24). Also of note to genre fans are brief appearances by Torchwood’s Burn Gorman and Stargate SG-1‘s Christopher Judge. Where Chicago was used for Gotham City in the first two movies (with Dark Knight in particular making use of the city’s underground roadways), New York City in general and Manhattan in particular substitute for Gotham in this one, as the plot requires Gotham to be an island.

Nolan was actually able to tell a complete story with these three movies, and while there could be ways to continue the saga of this iteration of Batman following the trilogy (especially with Gordon-Levitt’s character having the given name of “Robin”), it truly did come to an ending. There has never been any talk of a sequel, and the next live-action appearance of Batman on screen will be a different interpretation of the character played by Ben Affleck in Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, Suicide Squad, and Justice League, which we’ll be tackling down the line on this rewatch.

 

Deshi basara!

 The Dark Knight Rises
Written by David S. Goyer and Christopher Nolan and Jonathan Nolan
Directed by Christopher Nolan
Produced by Charles Roven and Emma Thomas and Christopher Nolan
Original release date: July 20, 2012

The CIA captures an asset, a nuclear scientist named Dr. Pavel. A masked mercenary named Bane also wishes to capture him, and he is able to infiltrate the plane by pretending to be one of his own employees, “captured” by the CIA. His people crash the plane, leaving behind one of his own mercenaries as a corpse to make it look good, and take Pavel themselves.

In Gotham City, it’s been eight years since Harvey Dent’s death. In his honor, the Dent Act was passed—its exact terms are left vague, though apparently it doesn’t allow parole for mobsters, which is spectacularly un-Constitutional. Either way, the Dent Act has left Gotham’s organized crime in a shambles, er, somehow. Batman, who has indeed been blamed for Dent’s murder, has not been seen in eight years, and in that same period, Bruce Wayne has become a recluse. Even though he’s hosting a gala in Dent’s honor—one in which Gordon comes within a hairsbreadth of giving a speech that reveals the truth, but puts it in his pocket at the last second—Wayne doesn’t show his face.

One of the hired maids breaks into Wayne’s safe and steals his mother’s pearls. However, Wayne quickly determines that her real goal was to lift Wayne’s fingerprints. The thief—Selina Kyle—leaves the party with a horny congressperson, and sells the fingerprints to an employee of John Daggett, a member of the board of Wayne Enterprises, who is in bed with Bane. Daggett’s people try to kill her in lieu of paying, but she tricked them into using the congressperson’s cell phone—said congressperson is missing, and the cops are looking for him, and they trace the phone pretty quickly, enabling Kyle to get away.

In the ensuing melee, Gordon is captured and brought to Bane. Gordon manages to escape after being shot, and he’s found by Officer John Blake. Blake is an orphan who met Wayne in the orphanage sponsored by the Wayne Foundation—and he also recognized that Wayne was really Batman when he met him back then. With Gordon in the hospital and the threat of Bane—a threat that Gordon’s second-in-command, Captain Foley, refuses to take seriously—Blake goes to Wayne and urges him to become Batman again, as he’s the only one that can stop Bane. After a visit to his doctor, and also to Fox for some new toys, Wayne decides to get back in the cowl. He also attends a gala that Kyle has crashed—he has a tracker on his mother’s pearls—and confronts her. She says a storm is coming that’s going to destroy Wayne and people like him; Kyle herself plans to adapt.

Bane attacks the stock exchange, which is a cover to use Wayne’s fingerprints to make a stock transaction that will bankrupt Wayne and cripple Wayne Enterprises. Batman tries to stop Bane, and Foley is more interested in capturing Batman than Bane. Batman manages to get away, as does Bane, having made the transaction that torpedoes Wayne.

Alfred resigns, having grown frustrated with Wayne’s inability to move on from being Batman. Before he goes, he reveals that Dawes had chosen Dent over him before she was killed by the Joker, and also that he had a weird ritual during Wayne’s years away. Every year, Alfred would vacation to Florence and sit in a café. He would imagine that he’d see Wayne sitting at another table in the café with a woman, maybe some kids. They’d exchange looks, nod, and not speak a word to each other. Alfred knew that Wayne would only find misery in Gotham, the city that took his parents from him, and his one wish for his charge is for him to find happiness.

Alfred’s resignation leaves Wayne a bit of a mess, especially once he loses all his money. He’s able to keep Wayne Manor, but he doesn’t even have a set of keys. One of his allies on the Wayne Enterprises board is Miranda Tate, who becomes his lover. She has championed a fusion reactor, which Wayne had mothballed because a Russian scientist—Dr. Pavel—revealed that it could be turned into a bomb.

Batman convinces Kyle to take him to Bane, but instead Kyle allows Bane to capture Batman. They fight, but Batman is out of shape after being out of the game for eight years, and Bane is at the peak of his strength. Bane breaks Batman’s spine and sends him off to the same prison that he was born in as a child. Bane now owns the prison—it was bequeathed to him by Ra’s al-Ghul, though Ra’s later tossed Bane out of the League of Shadows. With Ra’s dead, Bane plans to finish his plan to destroy Gotham. He won’t kill Batman—he’ll torment him by letting him watch Bane destroy his precious city while suffering in the same prison that Bane himself suffered in.

While he recovers in the prison, Wayne learns of another prisoner, the child of Ra’s al-Ghul, who is the only person to escape. In truth, anyone can escape if they can climb a tunnel to the surface. Ra’s’s child is the only one who did it, protected by a friend in the prison. Wayne assumes that Bane is the child in question.

Meanwhile, Bane kills Daggett, having used his construction firm to mix explosives with concrete in various places around the city. Bane destroys every bridge to Gotham, and also blocks every tunnel. He destroys the football stadium during a Gotham Rogues game, killing dozens, including the mayor. Thousands of cops are searching the subway tunnels for Bane and his people, and the explosions leave them all trapped down there. Bane has also taken possession of the fusion reactor, makes Pavel change it into a bomb, and then kills Pavel publicly, after making it clear that Pavel is the only one who can disarm it. Bane has given the detonator for the bomb to a citizen of Gotham, he won’t say who. With the tunnels blocked and most of the bridges destroyed, the only road access in or out of Gotham is one bridge Bane left in one piece. It’s for supply convoys. If anyone tries to leave the city, Bane will detonate the bomb. If anyone tries to use the intact bridge for anything but food, he’ll detonate the bomb. In addition, Bane lets all the prisoners out of Blackgate Prison.

Gordon, Blake, and Foley are among the few cops who weren’t trapped underground. For the next three months, they mount a resistance, trying to find the bomb and figure out a way to stop it. Wayne Enterprises’ board of directors, including Fox and Tate, are in hiding, with access to the reactor. If the bomb is plugged into the reactor, they can control it. A special forces team sneaks in with a food convoy, but Bane learns of them and kills them.

The Scarecrow is running a kangaroo court, sentencing people who have committed offenses in Bane’s new order. The accused has a choice in sentence: death or exile. Exile involves walking across the frozen river and hope you don’t fall through the ice. Nobody has succeeded in making it across, and when Gordon is captured and chooses death, Crane declares the sentence to be death by exile, so they still have to cross the ice.

Wayne manages to escape the prison and return to Gotham. (It’s not clear where the prison is, nor how Wayne gets back into Gotham when it’s so completely closed off from the world.) He meets up with Kyle, who apologizes for turning him over to Bane. He accepts her apology and thinks there’s more to her than she gives herself credit for, even though there’s no evidence to support this notion.

There’s also a ticking clock. The bomb will go off after a certain point whether or not anyone detonates it. Batman saves Gordon from death by exile, gives him a doodad that will block the signal from the detonator, and also helps Blake free the trapped cops. Blake is charged with getting the kids from the orphanage out of the city. Unfortunately, the cops guarding the bridge are under orders to keep anyone from crossing the bridge, so even though Blake insists that the bomb’s gonna go off no matter what, and the kids, at least, should be saved, the cop on the other side blows the bridge, cutting Gotham off even more.

The GPD fights Bane’s forces, while Batman confronts Bane directly, comporting himself much better in this fight. At one point, he damages Bane’s mask, which reduces the bad guy’s effectiveness something fierce. Batman demands to know who has the detonator—

—and it turns out to be Tate, who stabs Batman with a knife. Her real name is Talia al-Ghul, Ra’s al-Ghul’s daughter. She’s the one who escaped the prison and Bane was the friend who helped her. This entire masterplan is hers, not Bane’s, and her goal is to finish her father’s work. She’s pissed at her father for leaving her in that prison, but Batman killed Ra’s and kept her from being able to confront him about it, so she decides instead to do what he couldn’t and destroy Gotham. However, Gordon is able to block the detonator’s signal. Kyle saves Batman by killing Bane—even though she had said she would be leaving Gotham behind—and the pair of them are able to keep Talia from getting her hands on the bomb. However, with her dying breath, Talia is able to flood the reactor chamber, so they can no longer place it there to depower the bomb. Instead, Batman takes the bomb and flies it out into the bay far away from the city to detonate out over the ocean.

Both Wayne and Batman are declared as being among the (many) dead. Alfred is sad that he wasn’t there for Wayne. Wayne bequeaths the mansion to the orphans, what’s left of his estate to Alfred, and the batcave to Blake, who quits the GPD. (We also find out his real first name is Robin. Gawrsh.) Alfred uses his newfound inheritance to travel to Florence, where he sits in a café and sees Wayne and Kyle sharing a meal. They nod at each other.

 

“You have my permission to die”

I had issues with Batman Begins, but overall thought it was a good movie, if not as great as its hype. I thought The Dark Knight was one of the best comic-book movies ever made.

This, though, is a goddamn mess. Nothing in this movie makes anything like sense, starting with the Dent Act—or, as it would be more aptly named, “the plot device.” The terms of this act are not at all clear, nor how, exactly, a law will allow it to be easier to lock up criminals—at least not unless it’s spectacularly un-Constitutional. I find myself wondering how many innocent people were locked up without a chance of parole under this nebulous law.

The impression at the end of The Dark Knight was that Batman would take the fall for Dent’s death, and also for his criminal acts—but not that he would stop fighting crime. And yeah, okay, this mythical, magical Dent Act may have cut down on crime in Gotham, but it can’t possibly have gone completely away—humanity doesn’t work like that, plus laws take a while to become effective. Instead, we jump the timeline eight years and find out that Wayne has retired Batman, but also retired from humanity, allowing his body to go to seed and hiding from the world, and that he’s done so since immediately after Dent’s death.

This makes about as much sense as Superman disappearing for five years to see if Krypton didn’t really explode—to wit, none. Gotham was still a mess at the end of the last movie, with a lot of work to be done. Sure, Batman would have to cooperate less with the GPD thanks to his taking the rap for Two-Face’s crimes, but why would that translate to him hanging up the cowl?

Eight years is, at once, a ridiculously long time and not nearly long enough. For a retired Wayne to be plausible, you need to move forward longer, à la Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns or the animated series Batman Beyond. Eight years is enough to make me believe in an older, crankier Batman, like the one Ben Affleck will play in Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice and Justice League, but not one who’s given up.

Christian Bale does, at least, give his most convincing performance in the trilogy. His Wayne is already broken mentally and physically long before Bane shatters his back. Kyle’s theft of his mother’s pearls at least gets his brain back into it, but years of punishment followed by years of indolence has done a number on him physically. He’s good enough to hold his own against Bane’s thugs and against the GPD, but not in a one-on-one with someone as brutal, as talented, as fearless as Bane. It takes the crucible of Bane’s prison—which has already formed Bane and Talia into fearsome foes—to bring him back to truly being Batman.

Which he then only does for five minutes. The whole movie is predicated on the notion that anybody can be Batman, that Batman is the symbol and anyone can wear the cowl. This flies in the face of eight decades of stories, but whatever. Replacing Wayne as Batman has had mixed results—Jean-Paul Valley in the post-“Knightfall” stories was an offensive disaster, but having Dick Grayson in the role actually worked, not to mention Terry McGinnis in Batman Beyond—but the notion is still a specious one.

All so he can go off and retire with Kyle, but that relationship also doesn’t work. Oh, Anne Hathaway is magnificent in the role. She’s a worthy successor to Julie Newmar, Eartha Kitt, and Michelle Pfeiffer, and nicely washes out the bitter taste of Halle Berry. She brings charm and verve and humor and brilliance to the role. She’s beautifully chameleonic, effortlessly talented at her chosen task, and yet she also has an undercurrent of desperation, of the knowledge that it could all be taken away from her at any moment. (Her bitter declaration that rich people don’t even get to be poor like normal folks, following Wayne’s revelation that he’s been allowed to keep the family mansion despite being broke, is brilliantly delivered.)

But Bale himself has zero chemistry with Hathaway. (In that, at least, it’s consistent, as he didn’t have any chemistry with Katie Holmes or Maggie Gyllenhaal in the prior films, nor does he have any with Marion Cotillard’s Talia in this one.) On top of that, the script keeps insisting upon Batman seeing something more noble in Kyle, even though there’s no onscreen evidence to support it. Neither is Kyle returning from opening up the tunnel to save Batman’s life from Bane, as Hathaway has done too good a job of portraying her as a self-directed thief and the script has done too poor a job of convincing us that she’s got any heroic impulses.

Ultimately, Batman wants to see the best in Catwoman because that’s how the characters have been written in the comics for eighty years. But the movie doesn’t do the work to make us believe that. We have the same problem with Talia, in fact. The daughter of Ra’s al-Ghul in both the comics and the film, the comic book version is in love with Batman (and he with her), but she is loyal to her father as well. That conflict has made life difficult for Talia. Here, Talia has no affection for Batman, but is conflicted toward her father—so naturally, she fulfills his plan because, um, reasons? I guess?

Both Talia and Bane seem to be continuing Ra’s’ work in destroying Gotham—but why? Ra’s wanted to destroy Gotham because it was beyond saving, and then Batman first stopped him and then actually went ahead and saved it. We spent the whole first part of the movie proving that Ra’s was wrong, and then Bane takes steps to destroy Gotham anyhow.

Bane proves problematic on several levels, starting with the casting. In the comics, Bane was a genius, a tormented soul, a super-strong madman. He was also Latino, his costume inspired by luchadors. On film, he’s been done twice—the first kept his Latino heritage, but made him into a mute monster, Poison Ivy’s mindless henchman; the second casts a British actor in the role. Sigh. Hardy, at least, does a very fine job with the character’s physicality—which is good, as the mask covers most of his face, leaving him without the use of facial expressions. Body language and voice is all he’s got, and the latter is ruined by the filtered voice from his mask which ranges from incomprehensible to otherworldly—seriously, every time Bane talked, it felt like he was being beamed in from a completely different, barely related movie. When he first spoke up on the CIA plane, I didn’t buy that he was in the same space-time continuum as Aiden Gillen’s agent, and that remove remained throughout the movie.

Bane’s takeover of Gotham is also utter, complete, total nonsense. First of all, his entire plan hinges on the GPD sending most of their forces into the tunnels. When the tunnels blow and the cops are trapped, supposedly something like 90% of the cops are trapped down there.

This could not possibly happen. Police forces in large cities work twenty-four hours a day, which means that every single precinct/district/whatever functions on three eight-hour shifts per day. Sure, maybe you pull a few people in off another shift when there’s a crisis, but ultimately, the most number of people who would be patrolling the subway tunnels looking for Bane would be most of one shift, maybe a few more—but even in the worst-case scenario, 60% of the cops would still be above ground.

But even if I buy that Bane somehow trapped 90% of the cops underground, you expect me to believe that they just sat there for three months? That nobody among this huge collection of cops figured out a way to blow through the rubble to get out? Keep in mind that all of them were armed, so they had gunpowder out the wazoo, and nobody had the wherewithal to MacGyver something?

For that matter, that entire time Bane had Gotham under his thumb, nobody was able to figure out a way to deactivate the bomb? Nobody at Wayne Enterprises with some technical know-how? Nobody at a government think-tank or at the CIA (who must have had some notion of Pavel’s work, not to mention a whole file on him) was able to figure out a way to deactivate the bomb? Nobody in or out of Gotham was able to figure out a way to block the detonator signal, at least? The only response the world outside Gotham was able to arse together was sending in three people from Army Special Forces?

One of the major themes, and best parts, of Dark Knight was that even in the face of Joker’s nihilism, the people of Gotham were still good people, still heroic people, still willing to fight in the face of adversity. That’s out the window one movie later, as everyone just sits around waiting for something to happen. (Well, except Gordon. Gary Oldman continues his excellent work in these movies, as Gordon has never stopped being a cop, never stops thinking ahead, and he expertly leads the resistance within Gotham, with help from Blake and the few cops remaining, as well as Fox.)

And then Batman returns, er, somehow. Wayne was taken to Bane’s prison—which is implied to be in another country—and he got out by climbing with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back. So how did he get home? He doesn’t have any money (that’s a plot point and everything), he doesn’t have a passport, and Gotham is completely closed off: the tunnels are blocked, all the bridges but one have a big-ass hole in them, and the water surrounding the island is frozen. So how’d he get back?

Finally, in the end, Batman removes the bomb from the equation and detonates it over the ocean, letting everyone think he died in the attack, so he can go off to Europe and have a chemistry-free relationship with Selina Kyle, presumably paid for by her thievery, since he’s still broke (and legally dead). Screw Gotham, screw his parents, screw his family legacy, screw the people who have suffered due to Bane’s takeover, screw everything.

Some hero.

 

Next week, we turn our attention to something a bit more mystical, as we look at Ghost Rider starring Nicolas Cage.

Keith R.A. DeCandido is a guest at ConnectiCon XVI this weekend in Hartford, Connecticut. He’ll be at the Bard’s Tower booth for most of the weekend, alongside fellow scribes Jason Fry, Dan Wells, Brian Lee Durfee, Dave Butler, and Kuta Marler. He’ll also be doing a couple of panels: check out his schedule here.

9 Best Enemy Duos Who Just Care About Each Other So Much (But Will Never Tell)

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Doctor Who, Doctor, Master

Some of the best literary and on-screen duos are like flip sides of a coin. They may hate each other, but they also probably couldn’t live without each other. One of these people is usually evil. Or “evil” in very deliberate quotation marks. The other one is typically a virtuous, heroic-y person. Together, they complete one another in an endearing and/or off-putting way. Perhaps comics creator Kate Beaton said it (and drew it) best with her series on a pirate and his nemesis

Here are some of the best frenemy duos who mean so very much to each other.

 

The Doctor and the Master/Missy—Doctor Who

Doctor Who, Doctor, Missy

The Doctor and the Master were pals as kids, and later morphed into “best enemies” who can’t really imagine the universe without the other in it. They are completely opposed to each other in nearly every moral and philosophical sense, but Doctor still cares deeply for his erstwhile pal. At one point the Master even fought Rassilon off for him. Later on, as “Missy,” the Master finally comes clean about all lot of her past wrong-doings—many of them (unsurprisingly) were a bid to get the Doctor’s attention. Because she wanted her friend back—the person she used to pal around with in school, who ended up choosing humans as the sort of people he’d rather romp about the universe with. Once the Doctor learns this, he tries to help Missy clean up her act, and she truly wants to help him by the end, even if it means doing “good” things. She’s gone for now, but that’s the fun of the Master… you never know when she might show up.

 

Batman and the Joker—DC Comics

Batman: The Animated Series, Batman, Joker

No matter what iteration of the characters you’re looking at, these two wind up locked in a battle that they’ll never truly emerge from. The Joker terrorizes other people in Gotham, but it’s Batman’s attention that he craves. Heath Ledger’s take on the character from 2008’s The Dark Knight insists that they’re both “freaks” and that he is eager to continue this give-and-take dance forever. When Batman was set to marry Catwoman in the comics, the Joker was hurt not to be called on as his Best Man—because he is, isn’t he? The one who knows Batman in a way that no one else is capable of knowing him. The one who can truly see him on a fundamental level that no one else is willing to seek out. And while Batman may not want to engage with that part of himself, he certainly knows it’s there. The part that needs this clown, even while he reviles every act the man has ever committed.

 

Victor Vale and Eli Cardale—Vicious and Vengeful by V.E. Schwab

Victor and Eli became friends against Victor’s desire entirely. His handsome sophomore college roommate kept being too… interesting. So when Eli decided to do his thesis on ExtraOrdinaries—people with powers—Victor was determined to get in on Eli’s project. And eventually nudge him toward practical application of the theory. And get them both turned into EOs themselves… But it didn’t work quite the same way for Victor that it did for Eli, and their falling out resulted in a prison sentence for Victor during which he could only think about serving his time and eventually getting his revenge on his former best friend. Victor’s obsession with Eli’s handsome face only brings more trouble in its wake, and not just for themselves—their animosity drags plenty of other people into their orbit, and spans two novels: Vicious, and the upcoming sequel Vengeful.

 

Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane—Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy, Faith

After teaming up with her Slayer “sister” Buffy, Faith does her best to fit in and play nice with the Scooby Gang… but she never quite manages it. Having a less than idyllic upbringing when compared to the Sunnydale kids, Faith always feels separate and isolated. When she mistakes the human Deputy mayor for a vampire and kills him, it sets Faith on a path divergent from Buffy. She falls in league with the definitely not-human Mayor of Sunnydale and does terrible things on his behalf until Buffy battles her and leaves her in a coma. Buffy and Faith are mirrors of one another, a good look at what their power can be used for on both sides, and a commentary on how community, friends, and family can shape the Slayer. Faith and Buffy learn from each other, and their relationship pushes them both forward in ways neither of them predicts.

 

Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty—Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes Stories

Elementary, Sherlock Holmes, Jamie Moriarty

What would happen if the world’s cleverest detective had an opposing number who was ever bit as clever? Developed by Arthur Conan Doyle for the sole purpose of killing off his beloved creation (he wanted rid of the guy, but it didn’t stick), Professor James Moriarty is now a staple in most Holmes fiction, whether as a rat voiced by Vincent Price in Disney’s The Great Mouse Detective, or as the true identity of Irene Adler in Elementary. Though the character is fairly thin on the ground in Doyle’s version, other writers have taken the concept and run with it—after all, there’s a great thrill in the havoc Moriarty represents. And it can never be said that Holmes doesn’t enjoy the game while it lasts… if only for the challenge.

 

Avatar Aang and Prince Zuko—Avatar: The Last Airbender

Avatar: The Last Airbender, Aang, Zuko

Punished by cruel father for daring to speak up, Prince Zuko is banished from his home in the Fire Nation and told that he may only return when he has captured the Avatar—who no one has seen in 100 years. Lucky for him, the Avatar is found frozen in an iceberg a few years later, and so the hunt is on. The series deliberately shows the parallels between the two young men as they struggle to figure out their destinies. But in the end, these two don’t stay nemeses; Zuko eventually joins Aang’s group and uses his firebending to help the Avatar overthrow his father’s regime. Zuko’s relationships are full of these sorts of equal opposite parallels, though. He is in many ways the midpoint between the goodness of Aang and the fury of his own sister Azula, coming up against both of them at different times in his life.

 

Professor X and Magneto—Marvel Comics

X-Men, Professor X, Magneto

These two. You know. They love each other. But they just can’t agree on anything, from their opposing stances on humans and mutants living together, or how best to run a school for mutant youth, or even how to drink martinis… for a friendship that spans decades, they have a funny way of showing their love for one another. (Or maybe it’s really just Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan’s love for one another. That seems about right.) But without Erik Lensherr and Charles Xavier, you don’t really have X-Men. And you don’t have so many fascinating chess games. It’s hard not to love them, even if Professor X is a jerk.

 

Ms Coulter and Lord Asriel—His Dark Materials series by Philip Pullman

The Golden Compass, Ms Coulter, Lord Asriel

Sometimes you have an affair and have a kid. Sometimes you have an affair and have a kid and then end up on diametrically opposed sides of the same fight. Ms Coulter and Lord Asriel may have their daughter Lyra in common, but beyond that, they couldn’t be more different. Ms Coulter is an agent of the Church, researching Dust and performing experiments on children. Lord Asriel was against the Church entirely, meaning to stop the Authority and bring about the Republic of Heaven. Though the two of them wanted completely different things, their daughter was always a uniting point, bringing them together when they’d put as much distance between themselves as possible.

 

September and the Marquess—The Fairyland Books by Catherynne M. Valente

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, Cathrynne M. Valente, Ana Juan

illustration by Ana Juan

When she gets to Fairyland, September encounters the ruler of the place: the Marquess, who runs Fairyland with an iron fist. The Marquess agrees to give back a spoon that she stole from witches if September will agree to retrieve a sword from a casket in the Worsted Wood. The sword is not actually a literal sword; when September retrieves it, it is a wrench, one that the Marquess wants September to use to separate Fairyland from the human world. This is because Fairyland doesn’t let you stay forever—at some point, you are booted out, never to return. The Marquess refuses to accept than outcome, intent on staying, and so she and September are merely on opposite side of the same journey. Not a simple hero and villain, but two who reside on opposite sides on an experience that they both want to hold onto.

 

Who are your favorite best frenemy duos?

11 Bizarre Comic Book Sidekicks That You Should Definitely Dress as For Halloween

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I was lucky enough to get my hands on a copy of The League of Regrettable Sidekicks by Jon Morris, a gorgeous technicolor reference tome that documents some of the worst comic book characters to grace the racks of local grocery stores and dusty comics shops. It occurred to me—these would make superb Halloween costumes, especially if you’re the sort who loves to explain yourself all night to strangers (you know who you are). So here are a few suggestions, if your usual go-tos have failed you.

Note before we begin: Some Halloween costumes can come off offensive if carried off without sensitivity. This list is not meant to condone those practices. Do not use fun and/or odd characters as an excuse to ridicule others, please.

 

The Raven (Feature Comics and Police Comics — Quality)

The Raven is the guy hanging around in the background while Spider Widow and Phantom Lady duel it out. (Art by Frank Borth from Police #21)

The best part of this costume is that you would be the sidekick of Spider Widow. Scratch that, the best part of this costume will be your green tights. Scratch that, the best part of this costume will be your ten foot wing span and unnerving open-mouthed bird head that your real face will peer out from. And you’re Spider Widow’s significant other! That’s kinda cool, right? You’re like Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor… but weirder! Honestly, if you’re going to fight crime and make the world a better place, why wouldn’t you want to do it in a giant bird costume. Michael Keaton’s performance in that weirdo movie has got nothing on you.

 

Gaggy (Batman — DC Comics)

(Art by Sheldon Moldoff and Joe Giella, Batman #186)

Harley Quinn has become one of the most popular Halloween costumes these past few years, and it’s easy to see why; the costume can be reinterpreted any number of ways, she’s a fun character who doesn’t suffer (most) fools, and people are strangely enamored of her abusive relationship with Batman’s arch nemesis, the Joker. Wanna one-up every Harley this year? Consider going as Gaggy, another Joker sidekick introduced in the 1966 comics. Gagsworth A. Gagsworthy was notable for being an inspiration to the Joker—he was capable of making the Clown Prince of Crime laugh, and when the Joker laughed, he came up with criminal schemes. He was revived decades later in a far more grisly form, but before that, Gaggy was a crucial part of the Joker’s crew.

 

Dandy (Yankee Comics — Chesler / Dynamic)

Signed, Dandy! (Art by Charles Sultan, Yankee Comics #2)

If Captain America doesn’t scream “U.S.A.!” enough for you, this is a couples costume you’re sure to love; Dandy, the other half of Yankee Doodle Jones’s fighting duo. Yankee was created from a lab experiment to make a super-soldiery type deal, but the scientist in charge of the project had a teenage son who was also really keen on getting those powers. He ended up getting his hands on the special juice and injecting himself with it, making himself Yankee’s partner. This is a good thing because he’s the brains of the operation—Yankee doesn’t have much direction without him. So Dandy must sustain himself with cake and sarcasm. Mostly cake, it would seem.

 

1A (Magnus, Robot Fighter — Valiant Comics)

Just kill us all, dammit! (Art by Art Nichols, Janet Jackson, Bob Layton and Kathryn Bolinger from Magnus, Robot Fighter #1)

Lots of robots seem to say “Kill all humans.” What about one that says “Kill all robots” for a change? 1A is the partner of Magnus, Robot Fighter, from the eponymous comic series. Actually, that’s not precisely true—1A raised Magnus from childhood, training him to protect citizens against the more unscrupulous of his kin. So the robot is pretty complex, all things told, though there’s a parental vibe toward Magnus. The point is, 1A is cool and has a name that can be easily confused with steak sauce, which is a great way to puzzle people on Halloween.

 

Jaxxon (Star Wars — Marvel)

He’s… uh. He’s too tall to be a rodent? (Art by Howard Chaykin and Tom Palmer from Star Wars 8: Eight for Aduba-3)

Look, everyone is trying to have that real deep cut Star Wars costume, the one that proves you know way too much. You’ve seen things; Boba Fett underoos; the Star Wars Holiday Special; Jar Jar tongue lollipops. Whether it’s one of Padmé’s more obscure wardrobe choices, or a crew of jawas, it’s a tough game out there for fans to pick something truly hidden. So your best bet is Jaxxon, a giant green rabbit who hung out with Han Solo in some of the very first Star Wars comics. He’s admittedly not the weirdest member of Han Solo’s “Star-Hoppers,” but he leaves the most obvious impression. A bunny with blasters. You’ve got your opportunity, now is your moment.

 

Papa (Stuntman — Family Comics, Inc.)

Is Grandaddy’s name also just… Grandaddy? (Art by Jack Keeler from Stuntman #1)

What if you’re super lazy and you forgot Halloween this year, you don’t have the energy, and your kid prefers family matching sets? This short comic in the pages of Stuntman (a Kirby/Simon creation!) feels your pain, and it’s ready to catch you when you fall. Papa is sidekick to his son, Junior Genius (not a gender-specific name, so it doesn’t matter if your kid is a girl, or non-binary, or anywhere in-between). All the kid needs in some nerdy clothes and science-y instruments, and all you need is a pair of jeans and a red sweater that says “PAPA” on it. Literally, that’s it. Then you follow your kid around while they do generally brilliant stuff. And when people stare and insist that you’re not really wearing a costume, you get to drop a trough of Golden Age knowledge on them.

 

Super-Ann (Amazing Man — Centaur Comics)

Pretty sure she’s an adult, though. (Art by Martin Filchok from Amazing Man Comics #24)

Super-Ann is the world’s strongest girl! She’s partners with Mighty Man, but, eh. Ignore him; he basically cons her into being his sidekick and lets her do most of his dirty work. You don’t need him to pull this one off. All you need is a little retro glam and a cardboard “safe” strapped to your arm. You might need to give yourself a name tag, since she’s not one for flashy spandex or logos. It’s more a fun excuse to wear matte lipstick and find a great green vintage dress while striking power poses.

 

Frobisher (Doctor Who — IDW Comics)

But he’s not actually a penguin so…? (Art by John Ridgeway and Charlie Kirchoff from Doctor Who: Prisoners of Time #6)

Have you got a penguin onesie that you’ve been dying to break out in public, but annoyed that most people are unimpressed by a simple Kigurumi as a Halloween costume? You’re about to level up, my friend: in the Doctor Who comics, the Sixth Doctor (the one with the rainbow coat) had a companion who was a talking penguin. Well, not technically. Frobisher was actually a shape-shifting alien who chose to take the form of a penguin for some time. He’s met other Doctors on his adventures, too, so you should feel safe running up to any Doctor on Halloween and shouting “It’s me! Frobisher!” You’ll be in good company.

 

Elf With a Gun, AKA Melf (The Defenders — Marvel Comics)

If you were trying to bring existentialism to comics… this might not be the way to do it. (Art by Sal Buscema, Jack Abel, and Petra Goldberg from The Defenders Vol. 1 #25)

Wait, what??? How… how is this is thing that exists? Who would take a stock Christmas store elf costume and do this to us? The Defenders, that’s who. While the title was going through a fascinatingly disjointed era, this elf showed up across twenty odd issues to off people, seemingly for no reason—and without ever actually crossing paths with the titular heroes. The character died before anything could be revealed about his motivations; a later retcon seemingly explained his presence in part an elaborate conspiracy involving other gun-toting elves, but that was then revealed to be a “cosmic hoax”. Fans have debated the reason for the appearance of this figure for ages, to no avail. The sudden proliferation of Elf On a Shelf only makes this more creepy. If you found a friend willing to don that costume, and maybe the Will Ferrell version, you could wind up with a whole cadre of Disturbing Elves for Halloween.

 

Super-Hip (The Adventures of Bob Hope — National Periodical Publications/DC Comics)

The guitar is also super. (Art by Bob Oskner from The Adventures of Bob Hope #95)

Have you ever wanted to be a literal embodiment of what “the kids” like these days? If you do—and you also wanted to be sidekick to comedian Bob Hope, for whatever reason—you are gonna love Super-Hip. The best part of this this costume isn’t the mod haircut or the cravat or the guitar, though. It’s the fact that this character literally results from another person “hulking out” into him. Super-Hip is actually Tadwaller Jutefruce, the son of Hope’s old college buddy, and he’s way more interested in his studies than he is in partying like other kids his age. But you will like him when he’s angry, as whenever he gets upset, he transforms into Super-Hip and stops being such a stick in the mud. Party down, youths.

 

D-Man (Captain America — Marvel Comics)

Big fan of basically everyone, just so we’re clear. (Art by Paul Neary, Vince Colletta, and Ken Feduniewicz from Captain America #238)

Be honest. All you really want to do this Halloween is confuse people with a costume that looks like it should be a ridiculous superhero off-brand knockoff that somehow isn’t. Well you’re in luck, because Captain America once had a sidekick named D-Man whose costume was… puzzling. Half-Wolverine, half-Daredevil, Demolition Man’s costume is more funny for the fact that it’s intentionally derivative. Super strong wrestler Dennis Dunphy actually enjoyed the combo look and never bothered going for his own thing. Cap wasn’t bothered either—well, it’s not his look that’s being borrowed—so he never raised much concern over the strange cribbing. This costume is perfect. Wear it. Baffle friends. Enrage know-it-alls who are convinced that you’ve made an error. Demolish.

 

You can find many more of these gems in The League of Regrettable Sidekicks, out on October 23rd from Quirk Books.

Emily Asher-Perrin is actually pretty into the idea of Penguin!Frobisher. You can bug him on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.

Five Superhero Romances We Need to See On the Big Screen

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Romeo and Juliet. Rick and Ilsa. Jane and Mr. Rochester. Bonnie and Clyde. Harry and Sally. These are a few of the most famous pairs in history, and they feature in some of the world’s best pieces of entertainment. Romance can be tragic and comic, smart and silly, utterly wicked and deeply moral. It reveals the changeless nature of the human soul or the fleeting peculiarities of a subsection of society. It makes people cry on the street or lets them walk on air for days at a time. It has both the rich history and limitless potential of any other genre of fiction.

Of course, in spite of all this, romance still has its detractors—people who dismiss it as fluff, as the domain of adolescents, who bemoan the genre’s supposedly tired tropes, stock characters, and predictable endings.

There was a time when these kinds of descriptions were often applied to another type of film. Superhero movies reached their nadir not so long ago, when the words “superhero film” denoted juvenile schlock or silly camp to many potential viewers. Since then, Christopher Nolan taught the world what can happen when artists pay attention to tone and story arc. Robert Downey Jr. demonstrated how a magnetic character can reinvigorate an entire genre. The Marvel Universe clued us in to the possibilities of a huge, planned, integrated sets of stories. In other words, a genre is intrinsically only as good or bad as the thought and talent that goes into it.

Everything goes in and out of fashion, and it seems like superhero films, now that they’ve established a foothold as an Oscar-winning genre, are holding on to it by exploring what the genre can do. Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman and Ryan Coogler’s Black Panther have expanded the field by looking beyond the standard lantern-jawed white man as protagonist. Taika Waititi’s Thor: Ragnarok grabbed the overly-serious Thor films by the hammer and steered them into the realm of smart, zany comedy, where they were joined by excellent films like Into the Spider-Verse and the Guardians of the Galaxy series. The New Mutants looks like we are going to get superhero horror films. Logan was a straight-up western. Action, western, sci-fi, comedy, horror; what’s missing? Maybe it’s time for one unfairly-belittled genre to rescue another. Isn’t that what superheroes do?

Here are a few ideas on which heroic couples might get us started.

 

Batman and Catwoman

Batman is always a draw. This is true for audiences and artists alike. The trouble is, what the hell can be done with him now? Fans are crammed to the back teeth with origin stories. He’s fought The Joker, The Riddler, The Penguin, Ra’s al Ghul, Two-Face, and Mr. Freeze, some of them multiple times. He’s been shown as a child, an adolescent, a young man, and an older man. What new adventure could possibly occupy an entire movie, or better yet, a trilogy? This is an easy first choice, in part because there is a guide to what it should look like. Tom King’s half-completed Bat and Cat saga has shown us that superhero romance can be fun, and witty, and smart, and sexy. It also shows us how to flip the conventional narrative for a superhero story: instead of an action movie with a love interest thrown in, it can be about a relationship with action thrown in.

 

Nick Fury and Countess Valentina Allegra de Fontaine 

Audiences know Nick Fury. They are a great deal less familiar with a woman of mystery so international that her first name is Russian, her middle name is Italian, and her last name is French. With the recent success of two John Le Carré mini-series set in two different eras, a jet-setting, decades-long romance between two super-agents sounds like just the ticket! It’s also a great way to wrench romance away from the realm of doe-eyed teenagers, with a pair of worldly, sophisticated protagonists driving the story.

 

Ralph and Sue Dibny 

One of the rightly-criticized aspects of cinematic romance is that is always almost sets a bad example for real life: Obsession takes the place of love. Control substitutes for care. Volatility masquerades as passion. This goes double for superhero movies. It’s time to knock The Joker and Harley Quinn off the top ten lists of superhero couples—and Ralph and Sue are the team to do it. Too few people know about Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man, and his wife Sue, the, uh, completely-unpowered woman. But in 2013, nobody knew the Guardians of the Galaxy.

A few storylines have put this couple through the wringer over the years—including an infamous example of fridging that played out during the Identity Crisis limited series, best left undiscussed here, and certainly best left out of any on-screen adaption of their relationship. At heart, though, the two have a fun, endearing buddy cop-energy to their relationship that’s refreshingly free from soap opera-style drama. Ralph Dibny stretches like rubber and solves crimes, some of which he smells out with a twitching nose. Sue’s role is less easily defined. Since 1961, her character has played many roles, from Ralph’s companion and helper, to his (and the Justice League’s) administrator and translator, to his fellow detective. In one storyline, when Batman and Ralph go to a club to track down a mysterious new drug, Sue figures out the mystery while the two official detectives end up mickeyed and unconscious. In every incarnation of the couple, however, they love, respect, and genuinely enjoy each other. Imagine it: a contemporary romance between people who both like and love each other, having fun and fighting crime. Throw in their vintage convertible and they have a relationship anyone can all aspire to…

 

Tony Chu and Amelia Mintz

These two could inspire one of the weirdest, sexiest, most surreal on-screen romances ever made. In the comic Chew, Tony Chu is a cibopath, a psychic who absorbs knowledge from whatever he eats (except for beets). When every bite of hamburger tastes of the slaughterhouse and the processing plant, no meal is enjoyable. Amelia Mintz is a food critic and saboscrivner, gifted with the ability to cause people to taste any food she describes. It’s a match made in heaven, in a weird world of food-based crimes and food-based superpowers. It’s Eat, Pray, Love on acid. It’s The Great British Bake Off with vampires. It’s Man v. Food, literally. And it’s a sweet romance between two freaky people who are great for each other.

 

The Midnighter and Apollo

You want grim? You want gritty? You want cynical? You want ultra-violent? They got it. And they have something more. These two characters have appeared in a number of titles, including Stormwatch, The Authority, and The New 52. They are obvious parallels of Batman and Superman, and so their romantic relationship raised some eyebrows in the comics world. (Famously, a panel that showed a kiss between the two was censored.) At the same time, the love between Midnighter and Apollo and the way their relationship is depicted offers some insight into the reasons why romance so often falls flat in action movies, on one hand, and why romance remains a viable genre for superheroes on the other.

While superhero movies often have a romance subplot, the romance is rarely the relationship that gets the real attention. Family, alliance, or self-acceptance is the focus. The love object is just someone for the hero to save. Tony Stark’s relationship with Steve Rogers is explored in at least as much depth as his relationship with Pepper Potts. For that matter, none of Peter Parker’s crushes get as much attention as his mentor-mentee relationship with Tony Stark. (Quite the non-romantic player, Tony Stark.) Batman and Superman, as enemies, as allies, and as friends, are cemented by bonds stronger than Batman and Catwoman or Superman and Lois Lane. Midnighter and Apollo both highlight that fact and show us how to proceed. It’s not impossible for a superhero film to be a romance. We just have to allow the romantic relationship to be as important to the film as the film claims it is to the hero.

Esther Inglis-Arkell writes about history, science, pop-culture, literature, and everything that makes life interesting. She currently lives in San Francisco, where she chronicles the things library patrons have scrawled in the margins of books. You can follow her on Twitter at @EstherHyphen.

Doomsday Schlock — Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice

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The first time Batman and Superman teamed up in the comics was in 1952’s Superman #76 by Edmund Hamilton, Curt Swan, & John Fischetti (hilariously retold in 2006’s Superman/Batman Annual #1 by Joe Kelly and a host of artists). While both characters had been appearing in World’s Finest for years, that was an anthology comic that would have solo Superman and solo Batman adventures.

Since then, the pair have teamed up a ton of times, and been portrayed as best friends, as reluctant allies, as bitter rivals, and as enemies. Besides being teammates in the Justice League, they’ve had their own team-up book twice (World’s Finest and the Superman/Batman series of the 2000s). They also paired up in DC’s various animated adventures quite a bit.

But while they’d both been adapted to live-action since the 1940s, it wasn’t until 2016 that they appeared together in that format.

While Man of Steel was a very polarizing movie with viewers and fans (as a quick perusal of the comments to my rewatch of same will provide a nice sampling of), it did make money, and DC was committed to following Marvel’s lead with a cinematic universe. To that end, they brought back director Zack Snyder, who brainstormed the plot with MoS co-writer David S. Goyer (and in consultation with MoS co-writer Christopher Nolan). The story was inspired by 1986’s The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller & Klaus Janson (particularly in its portrayal of Batman), Man of Steel #3 by John Byrne from the same year (the first post-Crisis on Infinite Earths reboot meeting of Bats and Supes), and the “Death of Superman” storyline in the various Superman comics from 1992. Chris Terrio was hired to rewrite the script when Goyer was busy with other things.

In addition to being a sequel to Man of Steel, this movie brought in an older, crankier Batman—inspired jointly by Miller’s older Batman in Dark Knight and by the older Bruce Wayne in the animated Batman Beyond series voiced by Kevin Conroy—played by Ben Affleck, thirteen years after Daredevil, and ten years after he swore he’d never play another superhero again. Jeremy Irons was cast as Wayne’s butler/aide Alfred Pennyworth, with Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Lauren Cohan making cameos in flashback as Thomas and Martha Wayne.

On the Superman side of things, this film introduces the DCEU versions of two of Superman’s iconic bad guys: Lex Luthor, played by Jesse Eisenberg, and Doomsday, a CGI creature with voice and motion capture done by Robin Atkin Downes. Back from Man of Steel are Henry Cavill as Superman, Amy Adams as Lois Lane, Diane Lane as Martha Kent, Laurence Fishburne as Perry White, Harry Lennix as Swanwick (now the Secretary of Defense), Christina Wren as Carrie Ferris (promoted from captain to major), Kevin Costner as Jonathan Kent (in a hallucination), Rebecca Buller as Jenny Jurwich, and Carla Gugino as the Kryptonian A.I. voice. Michael Shannon’s likeness is re-created via computer imagery on Zod’s corpse. We also get a character named Jimmy Olsen, played by Michael Cassidy, who is a CIA agent posing as a photographer.

Also debuting in this film are Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman and, in cameo form, Jason Momoa as Aquaman, Ezra Miller as the Flash, Ray Fisher as Cyborg, Chris Pine as Steve Trevor, Said Taghmaoui as Sameer, Ewen Bremner as Charlie, Eugene Brave Rock as Napi, and Joe Morton as Silas Stone, all setting up future movies. We also get Holly Hunter as Senator June Finch, Scott McNairy as Wallace Keefe, Callan Mulvey as Anatoli Knyazev (the real name of Batman villain the KGBeast in the comics), Tao Okamoto as Mercy Graves (Luthor’s assistant), and Patrick Wilson as the voice of the U.S. President.

Affleck and Miller will next appear in Suicide Squad. Gadot, Pine, Taghmaoui, Bremner, and Brave Rock will next appear in Wonder Woman. Cavill, Irons, Adams, Lane, Momoa, Fisher, Morton, and Eisenberg will next appear in Justice League.

This was the first adaptation of Batman to appear after the estate of Bill Finger won its court case, requiring that the creator credit for Batman now be listed as “Batman created by Bob Kane, with Bill Finger.” Finger co-plotted and scripted the early Batman stories that were co-plotted and drawn by Kane, and his receiving credit for his work was long overdue.

 

“Maybe it’s the Gotham City in me—we just have a bad history with freaks dressed like clowns”

Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice
Written by Chris Terrio and David S. Goyer
Directed by Zack Snyder
Produced by Charles Roven and Deborah Snyder
Original release date: March 25, 2016

Screenshot: Warner Bros Pictures

We start with a dual flashback to 1981, to Bruce Wayne at the funeral of his parents, and also to their deaths at the hands of a gun-wielding would-be thief while walking home from a showing of Excalibur. He runs away from the mausoleum where his parents are being interred and falls into a cave filled with bats.

Cut to eighteen months ago, at the climax of Man of Steel, which we see from Wayne’s POV as a WayneTech building is destroyed, the head of security killed, when Zod and Superman crash into it. He rescues a little girl, and pulls an I-beam off of another employee, Wallace Keefe, whose legs are crushed.

Eighteen months later, Superman is considered a hero in Metropolis. Meanwhile, across the bay in Gotham City, in his costumed identity as Batman, Wayne has become more violent, as he’s started branding criminals with heated batarangs. (At one point, we also see Robin’s costume in a case with graffiti on it, strongly implying that the Joker killed his sidekick.)

In the Indian Ocean, divers working for LexCorp find a large green rock in the wreckage of the World Engine that Superman destroyed in Man of Steel.

In Africa, Lois Lane and a photographer, Jimmy Olsen, are interviewing a dictator. The dictator’s chief of security opens up Olsen’s camera and removes the film canister and exposes the film, at which point I wonder if the people who made this film are aware of, like, the world, since most cameras these days are digital. But if it was a digital camera, the Russian security chief couldn’t find the tracking device inside the film canister and then shoot Olsen in the head after he is revealed to be a CIA agent. The dictator takes Lane hostage.

As soon as that happens, Superman shows up to rescue her. At the same time, the security chief starts shooting his own people.

Back home, Superman is soon blamed for an international incident, even though he didn’t actually kill the people. (You’d think the fact that they were shot would be a clue.) Nevertheless, a woman from the African nation testifies before a Congressional committee run by Senator June Finch that Superman endangered her people. Lane is worried about Kent, though he is not as concerned. He also joins her in the bathtub, which is kind of adorable.

Lane’s notebook took a bullet, and she sends it to the crime lab for analysis, which comes up empty—the bullet matches nothing on file, which means it’s a brand-new design.

In Gotham City, Wayne is chasing down a human trafficker called “the White Portuguese.” After a brutal interrogation of one person who is holding several women prisoner in order to sell them, Batman learns that the ring is run by a Russian named Anatoli Knyazev (who’s also the guy who was the security chief in Africa who led the coup). Knyazev runs an underground fighting ring, and Wayne sponsors a fighter in order to get close enough to clone Knyazev’s phone. He discovers that the White Portuguese is a boat, and that Knyazev has made many phone calls to Lex Luthor.

Kent asks Perry White if he can do an exposé on the Batman, but White refuses, giving him a sports story instead.

Luthor meets with Finch and her aide and requests an import license to bring the Kryptonite from Asia. Finch refuses, but Luthor works on his aide, who gives him the license and permission to explore the wreck of the Kryptonian ship in Metropolis, as well as Zod’s corpse. Why the aide gives in to Luthor is never explained.

Wayne needs to break into Luthor’s place and steal the data from his mainframe, and Alfred points out that he doesn’t need his bat-suit to break in, because Wayne has been invited to a gala for the public library that Luthor is holding.

Kent is assigned to report on the gala, and he meets Wayne and they have a conversation about Batman. Wayne finds it a bit hypocritical that a reporter from the paper that writes near-hagiographies of Superman is complaining about a costumed vigilante, but they’re interrupted by Luthor. Wayne wanders off, pretending to search for the bathroom, but really putting a device that copies Luthor’s computer files from the mainframe.

With his super-hearing, Kent hears Alfred in Wayne’s ear-bug. He starts to follow Wayne, but then sees a news report about a fire in Mexico, and so he flies off to save a little girl from burning to death (resulting in the accolades of the people in the town). Back at Luthor’s, a woman catches Wayne’s eye—particularly when she steals the data drive before Wayne can retrieve it and drives away.

Wayne tracks the woman—an antiquities dealer named Diana Prince—down, and asks for his property back. She says the encryption is strong and she couldn’t break into it—there’s a picture that Luthor has that she wants back. (Since it’s a digital file, it’s not clear how that works, exactly, since it can be copied over and over again, but whatever.) She informs Wayne that she left the drive in his glove compartment, and then buggers off.

The drive retrieved, Wayne starts his own decryption. He also ambushes the White Portuguese as it brings the Kryptonite in, but he is unsuccessful in retrieving it, mainly because he’s interrupted by Superman, who gives him a warning. “The next time they shine your light in the sky, don’t answer.” He wants Batman to retire. Wayne, for his part, ignores this sage advice and checks the tracker he put on the truck.

Keefe, now a paraplegic, vandalizes the statue of Superman at the memorial for those who died when Zod attacked Metropolis. His bail is posted by Luthor, who offers him a new wheelchair and also has him visit Finch at her office.

Finch calls for Superman to testify before her committee and account for himself. Keefe is testifying, also, as is Luthor. Lane is also in D.C., talking to Swanwick, who is now Secretary of Defense. Swanwick informs her off the record that the bullet she found in her notebook was made by LexCorp for the CIA. She heads to the Capitol Building in time to see her boyfriend enter it. Before Superman can testify, however, the bomb that somehow got past Capitol security in Keefe’s wheelchair explodes. (Luthor’s seat has remained empty the whole time.) Superman, despite being super-strong, super-fast, and with enhanced senses, not only doesn’t notice the bomb until it’s too late, but just stands there in the conflagration looking pained instead of, y’know, trying to possibly rescue people. Meanwhile, Wayne is shocked to learn that all the checks that Wayne Enterprises sent to Keefe were sent back with snotty notes on them.

Guilty over not noticing the bomb, Superman goes on walkabout to collect his thoughts, which starts with his mother Martha Kent telling him that he doesn’t owe the world anything (picking up on Bad Superhero Parenting from her dead husband), and continues to walking around the Arctic and hallucinating his father. While Kent contemplates his navel, Batman breaks into LexCorp and steals the Kryptonite, making grenade rounds and a spear from the alien material. Wayne decrypts Luthor’s data, and finds detailed dossiers on Diana (which includes a picture from 1918 with Diana in it, looking exactly the same as she does now), as well as Arthur Curry (who can breathe underwater and swim very fast), Barry Allen (who moves at lightning speeds), and Victor Stone (who was badly injured and his father Silas is trying to save him, using alien technology). In addition, Allen, wearing a mask, shows up apparently from a future with a cryptic message saying that Lois Lane is the key and that Wayne was right.

Wayne e-mails Diana the files, as well as a query as to who or what she is, exactly, given that she was around a hundred years ago. For her part, Diana is planning to fly back to Paris.

Meanwhile, Luthor explores the Kryptonian ship, gaining access to it, er, somehow, and uses Zod’s corpse mingled with his own blood to genetically engineer and animate the corpse into a big giant monster because SCIENCE! The ship starts to let off electrical bursts and is pulling power from Metropolis’s grid.

Dressed in armor and armed with his Kryptonite grenades, Batman shines the bat-signal into the sky over Gotham to call out Superman.

Luthor kidnaps first Martha Kent then Lane. He throws Lane off a roof, and sure enough, Superman appears to save her. Luthor then makes it clear that he’s been behind upping tensions between Batman and Superman on purpose, grooming Keefe, setting up the thing in Africa (because he knows that Superman will always save Lois Lane), and so on. He wants Superman to kill Batman or he will kill his mother.

Superman tells Lane what’s happening, and then flies off to try to convince Batman to help him. But Batman wants nothing to do with him, and they have a brutal fight. Batman uses his Kryptonite grenades on Superman, which enables him to have a chance in the battle. When they wear off, Batman goes for the spear, and is about to stab Superman in the heart when the latter pleads that Luthor will kill Martha. That gives Batman pause, as that’s his own mother’s name, also. Lane shows up there, and the knowledge that Superman has a mother and a girlfriend makes him realize that he’s not an alien thing, he’s a person.

He also realizes that Luthor has played him. Lane says that the ship is becoming a danger to Metropolis and Superman has to stop it. Batman promises to save his mother.

Batman rescues Martha. (“I’m a friend of your son’s.” “I figured—the cape.”) Superman confronts Luthor, but instead faces the monstrosity he has created from Zod’s corpse, which he calls Doomsday. Superman flies it into orbit, and the president reluctantly—and over Swanwick’s objections—orders a nuclear strike on both of them.

This backfires completely, as Doomsday feeds on energy, so the explosion just makes him stronger. Doomsday crash-lands on Striker’s Island, which is uninhabited. Batman goes after Doomsday while Superman hovers half-dead in orbit. Batman lures Doomsday to the abandoned Gotham Port, where he fought Superman, and where he left the Kryptonite spear.

Diana sees news footage of Doomsday’s rampage as she boards her plane, and she disembarks, showing up just in time to intercept Doomsday’s blast with her bracelets, saving Batman’s life.

Exposure to the sun’s rays restores Superman, and he rejoins the battle. The three heroes fight Doomsday valiantly, but futilely, as he regenerates any damage and absorbs any energy attack. Kryptonite is their only hope, and so Superman grabs the spear and flies it toward Doomsday (how he can fly while being hit with Kryptonite radiation is left as an exercise for the viewer), stabbing him fatally, though Doomsday does likewise to the now-weakened Superman, and they both die.

A big-ass military funeral is held for Superman in Metropolis, while a much less ostentatious one is held in Smallville for Clark Kent. Martha gives Lane a gift that Kent had sent to Martha in the mail: an engagement ring to give to Lane. She wears it as she tosses dirt into his grave.

Wayne and Diana vow to carry on Superman’s work, including gathering the other three heroes Luthor was keeping tabs on, because that’s the only way this cinematic universe will come together. For his part, Luthor is in jail, shaved bald, and ranting and raving about how “they’re coming!”

 

“Nobody cares about Clark Kent taking on the Batman”

Screenshot: Warner Bros Pictures

There are parts of this seemingly endless movie that are brilliant. When Batman rescues Martha, it’s the single best depiction of Batman engaged in hand-to-hand combat in live action in the eight decades of the character’s existence. To be fair, the bar is pretty low—the fight choreography in the 1940s serials was hilariously awful, the 1960s TV show’s fights were deliberately stylized and comical, and the less said about the incomprehensible jump-cutting during fights indulged in by Tim Burton, Joel Schumacher, and Christopher Nolan the better.

Ben Affleck is perfect in the role of the older Batman. While I know everyone involved in this film points to the older Bruce Wayne in The Dark Knight Returns, Affleck’s performance truly reminded me of the cranky old Wayne we saw voiced by Kevin Conroy in Batman Beyond—which is a great compliment, mind you. This is a Batman who is old and tired. Yes, he’s been more brutal and violent and murderous, but the news stories we see on the subject indicate that this is a new thing. He lost his partner to his greatest enemy, and now there’s this alien who can wipe everyone out, and did kill and maim several of his employees. Affleck’s Wayne is suffering from some serious post-traumatic stress disorder. His rant to Alfred about how Superman has to be destroyed if there’s even a 1% chance that he’ll turn on humanity is unhinged to say the least, but he does come around eventually. Affleck plays him as a person in serious pain—but you also buy it when he comes back to himself right before he almost stabs Superman, remembering that he still stands for something. I also like that he’s older (he’s explicitly in his 40s at this point) and trying to compensate for a body that is not going to get better with age (because they never do).

Jeremy Irons joins the great pantheon of live-action Alfreds, from Alan Napier’s dignified performance on the 1966 TV show to Michael Gough and Michael Caine in prior live-action films, to Sean Pertwee’s superlative turn on Gotham. Irons plays him as a polymath, more tech support than butler, and also acting exactly like the person who raised Wayne and who is the only person not willing to put up with his bullshit.

Honestly, this movie’s existence is worth it just to introduce us to Gal Gadot’s superlative Wonder Woman. She absolutely owns the role, from her amused look at Wayne as she drives off with his data, to her crowning moment of awesome when she arrives to fight Doomsday, to her smile as she fights the monster. (Her theme music is also fan-damn-tastic, and used beautifully throughout the movie.)

In this movie, Superman is allowed to at last be a hero, at least on paper. The movie talks about how he’s a hero now, and how Metropolis and the world love him. Senator Finch’s concerns about his taking the law into his own hands are legitimate, but also approached sensibly and calmly. As she says more than once in the movie, the essence of democracy is to have a conversation.

But aside from his rescue of Lane in Africa (which was a setup by Luthor to make Supes look bad) and his saving of the little girl in Mexico, we don’t actually see Superman be a hero. He’s only been around for eighteen months, but David S. Goyer, Chris Terrio, and Zack Snyder present it as if he’s been a hero for a long time, counting on the character’s pop-culture footprint to fill in the blanks.

Except it doesn’t work here because we don’t have a Superman who’s been around since 1938, we have a Superman who’s been around for eighteen months, and who introduced himself to the world by levelling two cities. The opening of the movie does a certain amount of work to provide a human cost to the carnage of Man of Steel, which is too little too late, though the effort is, at least, appreciated. And then we’re told that Superman’s a hero now, but we don’t see any of what he’s actually done in a year and a half. And that’s not a long enough time for him to be as lionized as he is.

We also trade down in villains, going from Michael Shannon’s awesomeness to Jesse Eisenberg’s whiny weirdo on speed, giving us the single worst live-action Lex Luthor imaginable, paired up with a tiresome CGI monster. Doomsday was a terrible villain in the comics when he sorta-kinda killed Superman in 1992, and he’s worse here. Luthor’s creation of the creature is never in any way convincing—seriously, why does the Kryptonian ship let him take over, exactly? doesn’t this super-advanced planet have any kind of security on its technology???—and the fight against the monster is spectacularly uninteresting. (At the very least, they make a point of having the fight take place in an abandoned location.)

So much that occurs in this movie happens, not because it makes sense, but because it’s necessary for the plot to work, starting with Jimmy Olsen being the only photographer in the 2010s who uses film rather than digital. Why does Mercy Graves let Wayne just wander around near Luthor’s servers twice? How did Luthor manipulate Keefe into sending the checks back when Luthor didn’t even meet Keefe until right before he sent him to blow up the Capitol? Why does Finch’s aide give Luthor everything he wants in order to further his evil plan? How does Luthor know that Superman always saves Lane? (Yes, that’s an old cliché in the comics and in past adaptations, but Superman’s only been around for eighteen months, that’s not long enough for the pattern to emerge.) How does Superman not know there’s a bomb in the Capitol, and why the hell doesn’t he move to at least try to save somebody, anybody using his super-speed and stuff? Why is Martha telling Superman that he doesn’t owe the world anything, beyond continuing the notion that this version of Kent has the worst parents ever? Why is Luthor smart enough to engineer this whole plan but dumb enough to leave unique bullets lying around that would raise red flags if examined? And most importantly, why is the guy who is made completely vulnerable by the spear the one to wield it instead of one of the other two heroes on the scene? Sure, Wonder Woman or Batman might also have died if they wielded the spear, but they have other skills they can bring to bear against Doomsday, while Superman, by the nature of what he’s wielding, has had those skills taken away from him.

Screenshot: Warner Bros Pictures

Most of the acting in the film is, at least, top-notch. There’s the notable exception of Eisenberg, of course, and Henry Cavill is not great, but that’s not really his fault. He’s saddled with a Superman who is indecisive and confused and annoyed and not allowed to actually be a hero for more than ten seconds. Honestly, his best scene is as Clark Kent when he first meets Bruce Wayne. In fact, that conversation is one of my favorites in any superhero movie, with the two of them laying their cards on the table without actually revealing who they are. (Then Eisenberg interrupts the conversation and utterly ruins the scene.)

But the rest of the cast is excellent. Besides Affleck, Gadot, and Irons, you’ve got Amy Adams as a supremely confident Lane. (Okay, one other thing Cavill does well is convince me that he loves Lane. Their scenes together are lovely.) Also Laurence Fishburne puts in a fine turn as a Perry White who is cynical and embittered about the state of print journalism, but still tries to do his job (and also keep his problem children, Kent and Lane, in line as best he can), and Holly Hunter is superb as the impressively nuanced senator.

It’s a pity they’re stuck in this slog of a movie. While there are individual scenes that are well done, the movie as a whole just takes forever and is a big mess. The movie just goes on and on and on. As glorious as she is, Diana is superfluous to the film—you remove her, and it changes not one bit of the story. She’s only there because this movie is painstakingly setting up a cinematic universe. In fact, it spends so much time doing that in a clumsy and obvious manner that it’s just sad. Wayne’s speech at the end is contrived as hell. (“I have a feeling.” Right, a feeling you got when you signed your contract for several films.)

This should have been an epic movie that brought icons together. Instead, it’s an unfocused, unholy, almost unbearable, sometimes unwatchable mess.

 

Superman’s death will have significant fallout, including a government team of semi-reformed super-villains. Next week, Suicide Squad.

Keith R.A. DeCandido will be an author guest at HELIOsphere 2019 this weekend in Tarrytown, New York, alongside some nifty guests of honor: authors Charlie Jane Anders and Laura Antoniou, artist Alan F. Beck, and singer/songwriter Tom Smith. Keith will be spending a lot of time at the eSpec Books booth selling copies of his books (including new releases Mermaid Precinct and A Furnace Sealed) and also doing programming. His full schedule can be found here.

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