The Dark Knight (2008), Christopher Bale, Heath Ledger, Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Aaron Eckhart; dir. Christopher Nolan
Batman Begins was a damned fine origin story, with killer set design, great costumery, and a solid story. (Oh yeah, and a damned fine cast, too.) The Dark Knight has all of that, sure, but this second venture is a layered exploration of order and chaos, morality and madness. Ledger’s Joker is a tour de force, a nonstop maelstrom of comic fury and psychotic punch. And the writers captured the Batman/Joker dichotomy perfectly. The added thread that further twists that web is the addition of Harvey Dent. Ah, Harvey—another facet of madness, complete with scarred coin, though with a fine alteration to the original minting. And Harvey the uncaped crusader has the central line in the film: “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” One might offer that up as a theme, but it’s just not that simple—layered; I said layered. Batman—or, properly, the Batman—feels more real than other superheroes. Why? Simply put, his lack of powers. Batman is a nearly imdomitable warrior, true, but he is all too human; in the movie and in the comic, scenes are often given to surgical repairs, whether performed by the faithful Alfred or by Bruce himself. His tools are technology and his own body, not flight or X-ray vision or silicon webs. But this movie is not about Batman or the Joker—it’s about humanity. It’s about that moment where we have to look our darkest selves in the eye and make a choice: fight or give in. Where the film gets it right—no, where it exceeds expectations—is in its bleakness. The characters talk of hope, but Gotham has none. I mean, sure, the symbolism is operating—Batman offers hope, Dent offers hope, of kinds, but many of the detectives in Gordon’s Major Crimes Unit, the special unit meant to bring order to the city, are dirty; the mob runs most of the city; and Batman’s presence, his beginning, seems to have made Gotham more dangerous, not less so. But Bruce Wayne sees something in Harvey Dent, a hope for himself and for his city, and this movie is Harvey’s story almost as much as it is the Joker’s or the Dark Knight’s. The questions of morality, or of survival perhaps, that fill this story are questions born of the age. The nihilism of this Joker, the desolation of amorality, the atmosphere of fear that inhibits Gotham, the readiness to turn on what was once loved or at least admired, even the technological tool that enables Batman to find the Joker (Echelon?)—these are of our time; they speak to the world we face now. It’s bleak out there, and courage comes in many forms; justice comes from many directions. There is one thing we can agree on—we need heroes, and we need those who operate under cover of the dark. And sometimes, sometimes, those two are one and the same. (Promotional image (c) 2008 Warner Brothers)
