
This is how Batman should feel. Dark, disturbing, deep, and in no way definitive.
Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” plays these qualities with an undivided effectiveness that was till now absent in the “comic book” genre. Sheer beauty emanates from each scene of the movie in a myriad of ways. The writing, the acting, the cast, the set, the cinematography, the music - everything just works. Simply put, this movie is amazing. It’s so amazing, in fact, that it’s nearly impossible to write a review that adequately echoes the film’s profundity and impressiveness. This one just has to be seen.
And yet even more astonishingly, amid the dense greatness there is a specific part of this movie that stands out even more brilliantly. Heath Ledger. Or, more accurately, The Joker, for the portrait that Ledger paints of this character is so complete, so absolute, that you forget there is an actor beneath the makeup. In The Dark Knight, Heath Ledger does not play the joker, Heath Ledger is the joker. Like a profound sentence in a perfect book, Ledger’s depiction of the sadistic, sardonic, anarchic criminal pushes the quality of The Dark Knight from amazing to monumental. Of course, the circumstances surrounding this particular performance inevitably add a sense of importance to the character, as it will be Ledger’s last full performance, but the execution is so flawless and engulfing that the external feelings are overshadowed. In this case, “Oscar” is a perfectly apt word, if not downright certain.
The story behind The Dark Knight is by no means simple. In the first act, we are reintroduced to many of the familiar characters from the prequel, Batman Begins - Lieutenant Gordon (Gary Oldman), Alfred (Michael Caine), Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), and Rachel Dawes (this time, Maggie Gyllenhall) - as well as to a couple of key new players in Gotham, namely The Joker (Ledger) and Gotham’s handsome and ambitious District Attorney, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). Our first encounter with Batman (Christian Bale) is at a nighttime meeting of criminals in a parking garage, where we learn that throughout Gotham, a number of copycat (and pathetically under-qualified) Batmans have taken to confronting outlaws. This faction represents a growing number of citizens in the city who are becoming aggravated by Batman’s vigilanteism and who believe that no one person should be above the law. “What gives you the right?” one of the copycats asks Batman in the parking garage, “what is the difference between you and me?” (Batman’s response in the film is both revealing and hilarious.) Their frustration is evidently justified by the fact that crime in the city is worse than ever, despite Batman’s presence. This, we find, weighs heavily on Bruce Wayne, who begins to wonder how long Batman can and should exist. Fortunately, the city’s appointed “White Knight”, Harvey Dent, works tirelessly to confront the problem. The operation is continually thwarted, however, by the added problem of corruption within Gotham’s police force, a theme which has run continually through Gotham’s existence.
The story could have easily move forward simply on this platform, enlisting a ring-leader-villian to lead the corrupt and fight Batman and the rest of the righteous. From here, the filmmakers could’ve produced another quasi-entertaining, summery Batman movie. Fortunately though, for the movie’s sake, we meet The Joker. Both psychotic and fiendish, the Joker quickly demonstrates that he is a friend of no one, not even, perhaps, himself. The injection of this disturbing element propels the story deeper into its wonderfully dark moodiness. Subsequent events unfold with a level of intricacy and intensity akin to other great crime films like Scorsese’s “The Departed” or the Coen brothers’ “No Country for Old Men”. The action, though absolutely present, is by no means out of place, which is too often the case in the standard Summer Blockbuster. In other words, there is no shortage of pyrotechnics, and they do nothing but add to the splendor of the story. It’s hard to find any element, really, that doesn’t do its part to make this movie work.
And to cap it, the monologue that ends the film is gorgeous enough to provoke tears (even the second time).
The Dark Knight is just beautiful. In every way. It works. And not only for lifelong Batman fans (like myself), who will likely find that a filmmaker finally understands what makes these stories and characters fantastic. It works even for the outsiders, the newcomers, for the stories and themes in The Dark Knight are utterly human. Just like Batman himself. This isn’t a “superhero” flick; no one in this movie has “superpowers”. It is rather a complex and sincere study of good, of evil, and of the elemental capability of humanity. This is how Batman should feel.