Not Nolan’s Batman, and That’s Ok
The Batman presents an interpretation of the hero unlike any we’ve seen before, and it’s magnificent.
The Batman does a lot of things right. I know that’s a vague way to begin an article, but it has to be said that this film is very smart. From the intricate plot to faithful reimaginings of characters, The Batman takes a lot of risks that pay off with flying colors. There are elements of the film that seem bold initially and end up perfect for the story its trying to tell. I appreciate the dark depiction of Gotham, its noir style, its unique tone that is somehow the grittiest Batman has ever been while still being more “comic booky” than any other film staring the caped crusader. It smartly provides a critique on the vigilante by presenting him as mentally unstable. When Nolan’s Batman faced the ethics of his actions I never believed them to be negative, but if I saw Reeves’ “hero” patrolling the streets of my local city I would be terrified beyond belief. This Bruce Wayne is no hero, he has to learn to become one, and it is this critique, this flaw inherent in Batman existence, that permeates throughout the film and separates itself from other interpretations of the character. This Batman is legitimately terrifying, unstable, and most importantly, imperfect. To me, this presents the audience with a hero unlike those of the past, one that isn’t capable of saving the day no matter what, but always willing to try. In this way, Pattinson is not Bale, we are not watching Nolan’s Batman, and I believe that’s what makes this film so strong.
The Dark Knight trilogy is polished. From the filmmaking to the dialogue the movies feel clean, professional, and that same aesthetic seeps into the characters. Although Bruce Wayne is flawed in that trilogy of movies, he still feels perfect. He acts as though he has everything under control, he has the appearance of perfection. We’re suppose to believe his damage, wallow in his tragedy as he does, but wether it be dialogue so clean it feels stiff or Bale’s equally unmoving performance, I never found this Batman to be human. He certainly feels, he has his moments of loss, but I never believed he would mess up. Bruce Wayne carried an illusion of perfection that was so convincing it left me believing he was perfect. I never questioned his mindset, his actions or the way he went about seeking revenge, and this effect was achieved through the polish of the film and character. Something about Nolan’s interpretation felt too clean, too sleek, whereas Reeves’ noir nightmare presents a hero that feels human, a flawed character that prompts the viewer to question the protagonist rather than mindlessly siding with them.
The movie establishes this more human depiction of the bat in the opening scene. While beating a group of thugs Batman sends fear through the very man he claims to be saving, ending the encounter with a civilian begging for his safety rather than showing appreciation. Ironically, Batman claims he is “vengeance”, cementing his belief that he’s not only doing the right thing, but doing so for the sake of revenge. He isn’t saving this man’s life, he’s finding a way to rid himself of his extreme sadness and anger. A normal person does not beat people senselessly, and when that same man is equipped with a military’s worth of weapons and enough funds to keep this crusade going for as long as he stands, it is bound to raise a few questions. The brutality of this Batman is unmatched and truly evolves the character from a hero to a question mark. From the opening scene we wonder if this man is even a hero, and that does wonders for the film’s depth and Batman as a character. With endless brooding and violent behavior presented in striking realism best captured when he drugs himself to beat one of Riddler’s thugs senseless, this Batman does not seem like a hero for much of the movie. It’s a flaw, and flaws make characters feel more human. Pattinson’s Batman is a nightmare that seems capable of doing anything to get what he desires, and the audience is meant to question this interpretation. This gray area, this confusion as to wether Batman is morally right in his quest for justice, makes this character feel real. In this way, The Batman presents a version of the hero I find to be much more human than Nolan’s despite the shocking lack of dialogue. He is a real human being with genuine flaws, he’s intimidating for everyone in Gotham, and I love that interpretation. Both the police and the people Batman saves are terrified or critical of the hero, and he doesn’t immediately intimidate every person he meets. Meaning, Pattinson’s Batman is missing the reputation of Nolan’s, a reputation I find to be unbelievable in comparison to Reeves’. No one would be joyful at a real life Batman, he would have to prove himself to a city he’s trying to protect, and The Batman explores that journey of validation in a beautifully dark manner.
However, what makes this imagining of the iconic hero even more human is his inexperience. One moment stuck out to me while watching the film that cemented this version of the Batman as my all time favorite. When escaping the police officers who are rightfully critical of the hero, Batman attempts to leap off a tall building for a daring escape. Nolan’s Batman did this with elegant ease, again, he’s a professional in every sense of the word, and for that reason I never felt the tension and intrigue that comes with a flawed protagonist that can realistically lose or die at any moment. However, this Batman takes a breath, stares at the vast field of cement in front of him with terror instead of confidence, and feels like a real person as a result. Even better, he screws up the flying and ends up crashing to the ground at dangerous speeds. In fact, this version of the hero loses a lot, I’m not sure he really wins at all. This aspect of failure that haunts this Batman serves multiple purposes. By being inexperienced the audience is put on the edge of their seat as there is no guarantee the protagonist will win. Furthermore, it adds to the humanity we’ve mentioned previously, making both the character and story more interesting.
Essentially, Reeves and Pattinson crafted a Batman that, despite the strict dedication to realism Nolan’s trilogy presents, feels more realistic than any interpretation of the hero. Gotham reacts like an actual city would to an insane vigilante dead-set on appearing as intimidating as possible. Batman himself is a flawed character that the audience is meant to question, presenting us with a layered protagonist we learn to love, just like the people of Gotham. This isn’t the fan favorite Batman that can do no wrong and has an answer for every riddle, but a flawed human being that must learn what true vengeance is, and the film is all the stronger for it.