Batman Begins (2005)
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Batman Begins, directed by Christopher Nolan, is what can only be described as a reboot for the Batman series. On this merit alone, we can pretend the last series didn’t exist, or at least ended after the 1989 Burton flick. There are no Batnipples here, no homoeroticism between Batman and Robin, and no damn neon carnival atmosphere that better suited Sweet Tooth, the homicidal clown from the Twisted Metal video game series. Instead we get a darker, grittier, more realistic Batman, and who better than Christian Bale, one of the few action heroes yet to succumb to self-parody. Sorry, Vin Diesel... you lost all credibility when you were “The Pacifier”, right along with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hulk Hogan.
The bizarre art deco Gotham City of Tim Burton is also gone. In it’s place is a modern Gotham City-a thinly disguised Chicago, with the Board of Trade Building, um, Wayne Tower at the center. The chase scenes are all through Lower Wacker Drive. Yet Wayne Manor seems to be in England, so that makes for one hell of a commute.
The casting is nearly perfect, with hyper-intense Bale believable as both Bruce Wayne and Batman, a problem inherent throughout the last series. Michael Caine, as Alfred, enjoys an unusual luxury in this film, in that he’s the only Briton in the film allowed to use his own natural accent. Liam Neeson’s accent is muted somewhat, but he’s still Liam Neeson. But that’s okay (see below).
I am beginning to believe Liam Neeson, as Henri Ducard, is the most unappreciated badass in Hollywood. Chew on this, kids. He was the original Darkman, mentored Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars prequels, and now, he’s training Batman in the ways of the ninja! If that doesn’t leave one suitably impressed, I honestly don’t know what does. He just doesn’t look like he could kick someone’s ass. If you were told that Oskar Schindler was a master ninja, you’d roll your eyes too. As the leader of an ancient super duper secret anarchist organization (the League of Shadows) that among other things, engineered the fall of Rome, it’s a bit over the top, but, oh, it’s Batman for crying out loud.
Morgan Freeman plays Lucius Fox, the Q to Batman’s Bond. As the disenfranchised inventor/chemist of Wayne Enterprises, he finally provides a believable answer to the old Jack Nicholson line, “Where does he get those wonderful toys?” Um, as the billionaire owner of a megacorporation that makes prototypes for the Army, that’s who.
Unfortunately, there were a couple of actors who were grossly miscast. Katie Holmes, as Rachel Dawes, looks and acts only two years removed from Dawson’s Creek, rather than acting as Gotham City’s resident district attorney. Cillian Murphy, as Dr. Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow, is also too much of a lightweight to be either a head doctor at Arkham or frightening as the Scarecrow. Sure, he plays a creep in “Red Eye” as well, but babyfaced villains are just not very intimidating. Setting a hallucinating Batman on fire was a good try though.
One thing lacking in this movie is humor... or at least intentional humor. A few times, they make light of the new Batmobile, a black tank with turbo boost lifted from Knight Rider. In a movie this overly dark and serious, it seems forced.
However, the unintentional humor in this movie abounds. Some is from Bale. He brings an almost comical amount of intensity to Batman. He doesn’t talk, but growls at various volumes. “SWEAR TO MEAAAARRRRGGHHHH!!!!!” Batman as seen through the eyes of anyone on Crane’s fear gas is hilarious, as his head is replaced by either a) “drooling tar head Batman” or b) “my eyes are on fire Batman”, depending on proximity.
Some plot elements are pretty funny too. Case in point: the young Bruce Wayne has a terrible fear of bats after a traumatic experience. So where do his parents take him? Why they take him to a Cirque du Soleil-style opera (already I hate you, dad), where the cast is dressed up as bats while spinning around the stage, tormenting the young Wayne. By scaring the living hell out of his son, Thomas Wayne has set the wheels in motion for his own demise, when, seeing how scared Bruce is, takes him outside for an even more traumatizing experience.
Previously, I never really got how Bruce Wayne picked bats for his costume theme. It always seemed kind of random. With Michael Keaton’s Bruce Wayne, it was as simple as “Hey, I need a costume idea. Oooh, there’s a bat. Okay then, bat it is!” Wait, what? Now, we’re making some sense. Wayne’s afraid of bats, so he subliminates that into his persona, giving his rogues galley something to fear, Batman. Thank you.
Fear seems to be the chief element of this movie. Scarecrow and the League of Shadows create the fear gas causing mass chaos and panic. Christopher Nolan fears being associated with Joel Schumacher, and pretends his movies never existed. That’s how I cope, too. At night, I say to myself, “there are no Batnipples, there are no Batnipples”.