nuance

The Dark Knight: I give it 5 out of 5 - and the title of Best Super Hero Movie Ever Made

(SPOILERS follow)

“He is not the hero that Gotham needs right now, but he is the hero that Gotham deserves.”

I saw the movie at the official opening earlier this morning; midknight, to be exact.

And it behooves me to begin by saying that after 3 hours of sleep I am barely recovering from this film emotionally. The Dark Knight is an experience; and experiencing it at midnight in an atmosphere thick with anticipation and excitement undoubtedly made it the most memorable experience in my cinematic journey to date. This was a movie - and a moment in time - that movie lovers like me yearn for but rarely encounter.

The beginning and end of this movie’s brilliance, both as comic book flick and epic crime saga, is Heath Ledger, the Joker. So deep, so impactful was this character that my wife and I were reeling after the film in a sort of distant-yet-connected grief; so historic and singular was this performance that the drive home brought a sense of loss like a sucker punch to the stomach. There is no way that Ledger’s the Joker will not accrue every accolade available next February and March. There is no way it will not be remembered as among the greatest movie villains of all time, if not the greatest.

But it is not just this performance that makes the film great - it is the way in which this performance bleeds into the mood, tone, and structure of the entire project. Christian Bale’s the Batman becomes more intense, more compelling because of this Joker; where once Batman seemed an easily glorified vigilante, a super-man justifiably hellbent on personal vindication and near-divine vengeance against Gotham’s entire criminal underworld, he now emerges a lesser hero in lieu of a new kind of evil. The lines are blurred; the good guys’ good intentions get innocent people killed; the bad guys’ lust for money just makes them pawns in a more sinister chaotic scheme. Everything is knocked askew in Gotham at the precise moment it seemed like order was finally established.

This is moral disillusionment; this is confusion, despair, desperation. As one critic observes, it is the “failure of reason.” The Joker seems to play on the best intentions of human nature, twisting them into utter destruction. He is not content to kill bodies; it’s not fun enough; he must kill spirits first, and the spirit of a city, and then let the bodies follow. One is reminded of the adversary who goes about like a roaring lion, seeking something, anything, everything, to devour. The Joker is an agent of chaos who wreaks havoc for the hell of it - because he can, because nothing matters, because there are no rules, especially not the Batman’s rules. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

There are more than several mind-blowing scenes. The pre-released fundraiser sequence (with an impressive cameo by our very own Pat Leahy) is a true introduction to the fiend; we learn about his scars and momentarily sympathize, even as we witness the potential for unbridled mayhem. There is the unbelievable chase scene that catapults a semi straight into the end of Act 2. There is the jailhouse escape and the Joker’s doglike patrol car ride, a clip so wonderful that it will play in Oscar reels until the end of time. There is the hospital visit that solidifies Joker’s victory in the battle as he deconverts the once righteous Harvey Dent to a religion of meaninglessness and chance and a new villainous mission of his own. There is the end of that same sequence that stands, in my view, as the most incredible visual moment in the film, the fiend hobbling, giggling, jerking, mumbling, the hospital exploding. There is, somewhere in the middle of all that, a single 15 second shot of the Batman standing atop a building, watching over his city, that has all the quiet power of a forlorn Jesus lamenting his Jerusalem.

And this oddly brings us to hope, which is decidedly not the point of this movie. The aim of this movie is to communicate the reality of hopelessness; to present the possibility that hope does not exist at all, not even in the world of superheroes. And the end of the Joker is as unresolved as the Joker himself - not an evil that has an easy answer and a tidy death but one that literally laughs at every answer we can offer and then just lingers on. But unexpectedly, there are two rays in this world of thick darkness: pacifism and prayer among evacuees in explosive-laden boats, and the death of the Batman hero himself.

This death is not physical but may as well be. It comes with the recognition that the city’s hope rested in another hero, and if anyone finds out about his Two-faced end - 6 people dead by his unlucky coin toss - then all will be lost. And in an act of willful humiliation, the innocent Batman becomes the scapegoat and takes the sin of the city upon himself, with law, justice, punishment, and holy wrath in hot pursuit.

And meaning is restored.

As I have pondered these things today, I have been struck with a single thought: what kind of hopelessness lies beneath the cocksure facade of our own city? What kind of disillusionment would emerge if we peeled back the layers; what kind of lostness? Is the Joker’s meaningless chaos lurking in the shadows of men’s hearts, scaring them to death if they look long enough to see it?

Perhaps there is a wake-up call here, a clarion rising if only we might listen.