“Red Rover, Red Rover…”

For those living in a cave (a… Batcave?), opening this weekend is the final installment in the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy, or, as it’s being billed, The Dark Knight Trilogy.  Like George Lucas rebranding Star Wars as A New Hope, Nolan and WB are trying to do the same with their franchise.  Should’ve thought of it sooner, guys.  Now the chapter titles — Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises — read like a game of “Which one of these is not like the others?”  (Ditto for the posters.)  Either movie #1’s title should’ve been Dark Knight-related, or movie #3 should take its cue from one of Batman’s other nicknames like The Caped Crusader.

Do I have a problem with the title?  A little.  Do I have a problem with the film itself?  My last name is pronounced Dark-Angelo.  Whadayouthink?

The new flick picks up eight years after the last.  Gotham City is safe thanks to the Harvey Dent Act, which has incarcerated 1,000 criminals.  Gotham doesn’t need protection anymore and Batman’s disappearance, coupled with Bruce Wayne’s Howard Hughes-like seclusion, reflects this.  Until a new evil rolls into town.  The plot then incorporates elements from comic book storylines such as The Dark Knight Returns, Knightfall, and No Man’s Land.  These films are not stand-alone adventures.  They each build upon the previous movie, most notably this one, so I recommend re-watching the first two before watching the third.

What made the first two so good are the screenplays’ devotion to a main theme explored by different characters and storylines.  Batman Begins is all about fear — Bruce’s fear of the dark, Scarecrow’s fear gas, the Batman identity created to instill fear in criminals.  The Dark Knight is about chaos.  This screenplay is about hope since that word emerges from many characters’ mouths.  Or maybe it’s about pain (Bruce’s emotional pain over Rachel Dawes’ death, Bane’s chronic medical pain).  Could be starting over (Catwoman is after a computer program called Clean Slate that gets lost in the shuffle).  I’m not 100% sure and I’m not sure if that’s due to hard-to-follow dialog (Batman’s growling voice + Bane’s breathing mask + the French chick’s accent = a strong need for subtitles) or if it’s just not there.  Given the quality of everything else, I’ll trust Nolan and see it again.

The cast of usual Bat-suspects are back and in good form, particularly Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox who fulfills the same purpose as Q in the Bond films.  The scenes between him and Bale have always been the most whimsical of the series and the same applies here.  Freeman’s sly delivery of the following…

Lucius Fox: These conversations used to end with an unusual request.
Bruce Wayne: I’m retired.
Lucius Fox: Well, let me show you some stuff anyway.  Just for old time’s sake.

…is worth the price of admission alone.  Since the beginning, his character and Michael Caine’s Alfred have had Bruce’s best interests at heart, but in different ways — Alfred fears for Bruce and aims to keep him from donning the cowl again, while Lucius encourages him to get back in the game with a new toy (this time a reimagined Bat-plane).  You’d think when the two meet that they’d come to loggerheads (“Loggerheads — performing live at the Viper Room!”), but that meeting doesn’t occur until film’s end and by then their differences are moot.

For such a large cast, the filmmakers do a solid job in all three films of giving each character their own subplot.  This time, however, one suffers. Although Alfred’s reason for being off-screen for much of the story makes sense, it also screams, “We gotta make room for new actors!”  Marion Cotillard, Tom Hardy, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, all members of the Nolan stable of actors, are excellent, as is Christian Bale whose chemistry with Anne Hathaway is undeniable.  The outcome of their relationship is exactly as it should be.

“Pssst, I’m not the only cat burglar. The writers stole this scene from Batman Begins.”

In interviews and awards show appearances, Hathaway comes across as someone camera hungry enough to sing while grocery shopping.  She comes across as someone who would annoy the @#$% out of me.  I’ve avoided her films because of this, which I now regret because she’s fantastic as Catwoman.

Her demeanor morphs in a split second from conniving con artist to helpless screaming victim (which is just a cover for the con).  Unlike the rapid cutting of the action that makes it hard to tell if she’s really doing what it looks like she’s doing (I’ll give her fighting skills the benefit of the doubt), Nolan wisely holds on the less violent moments of her performance.  Because of this, we witness her voice and body language effortlessly switch back and forth between good girl/bad girl personas in real time, making each one all the more convincing.  Hathaway, in her Audrey Hepburn hats and Julie Newmar leather, is purrrr-fect.  (Hey, don’t judge me on one bad pun.  Wait for another.)

The film occasionally feels a bit uneven and at a whopping 164 minutes how could it not?  The writers (Christopher, his brother Jonathan, and ol’ chum David S. Goyer) overstuff the script, perhaps because this is their last chance to play with Bob Kane and Bill Finger’s creations (yes, Virginia, there really is a Batman co-creator).  They did this in The Dark Knight as well.  As much as I love that film, the entire China sequence could’ve occurred off-screen.  Sequences in this film are also unnecessary.  Matthew Modine and his subplot could easily be cut, likewise Bale’s romantic liaison with Marion Cotillard.  They only hook up in order to later underscore the pay-off of her motivation.

Christopher Nolan’s penchant for Prestige-like slight-of-hand is in full force.  We’ve seen the tricks before, but it’s a testament to the director’s skills that they still work.  Having said that, I urge him to break away from his standard tools for fear of becoming the next M. Night Shyamalan.  Nolan withholds not one but two characters’ real names and, since the other characters don’t even know that they exist, it ultimately doesn’t matter.  It’s merely to misdirect the audience, which works, but would work better if the story actually called for it.  Another example is a set-up/pay-off involving Michael Caine and a Florence café that’s plucked right out of Inception.  If you’ve seen that film (and who hasn’t?) then this pay-off, although earned, may feel predictable.

“Hey, Bats, how ’bout we grab a beer after this?”
“Get your @#$%ing hand off me!”

For a series that so well respects continuity from film to film (I’ll forgive the Katie Holmes/Maggie Gyllenhaal switcheroo because we all know it was Tom Cruise’s doing), it’s disappointing to not have a single mention of the Joker this time around.

The script heavily references Harvey Dent whose death haunts Batman and Commissioner Gordon.  Acts I and II of the new film resolve Act III of the previous film where the Dark Knight assumed the blame for Two-Face’s crimes so that Dent’s white knight reputation would remain intact.  That’s great, but it was the Joker who transformed Dent into Two-Face.  If you’re going to allude to one, then you have to allude to the other.  This wouldn’t stick out as much if the movie didn’t reference every other Bat-villain such as Ra’s Al Ghul and Scarecrow (yup, Cillian Murphy appears again in a scene-stealing cameo).

Respect for Heath Ledger rather than neglect for story logic is most likely the reason behind the omission.  If Ledger had lived then he too would have a cameo, most likely alongside Murphy in Blackgate Prison.  I’m not saying I want to see another actor portray Joker, not even briefly, but a simple verbal acknowledgement would’ve been enough to keep me from being distracted by the lack of said acknowledgement.

Tragically the one place the Joker does appear is in today’s headlines.  The Colorado gunman who senselessly shot up a midnight screening of the movie claimed to be the Clown Prince of Crime.  He definitely isn’t Batman, who, in this very film, reprimands Catwoman for using guns.  The filmmakers shouldn’t feel responsible for a real-life madman’s actions.  They preached the right message and only one member of the choir (hopefully only one) chose to ignore it.

The filmmakers should, however, feel responsible for making a great trilogy capped by a third episode that more than overcomes the dreaded threequel curse that’s plagued so much of superhero cinema (Spider-Man 3, Superman III, X-Men: The Last Stand).  Though not perfect, this latest Dark Knight rises above and beyond that dreck.