Superheroes. Seriously.

Yes, many games are as Somers describes, but no medium will ever get anywhere as an art form by pretending it's another medium. The cinematic elements in current videogames are unfortunate stopgaps while people try to figure out how narrative works for games. They aren't evidence for the artistic potential of the form any more than a well-written intertitle in a silent film is evidence for the artistic potential of cinema.

What? Film is like the ultimate mixed media, combining painting, theater, phtography etc etc. The idea of "pure cinema," a cinema that's good only because of characteristics unique to the cinematic medium, is a myth.

I wrote about this particular subject, and how it is a creative dead-end, a few weeks ago. Allow me, please, to offer an excerpt:

The modern superhero film does not have its origin in the late nineties, naturally. But, the first four Superman movies, or the first four Batman films, were still different sorts of movies from the type of comic book flicks that came in the wake of the first X-Men’s success. Due, mainly, to technical difficulties, or the concrete set of boundaries the studios drew between the comics and their on screen counterparts, most superheroes were treated as separate entities from the larger universe they’d inhabit within their comic books. I remember watching a Stan Lee interview in 1994 or 1995 when he was talking about how Marvel was trying to resolve the issue of rights between them and Sony, and, if successful, their director of choice would be Jim Cameron. What was interesting was the name Lee was championing for Peter Parker: none other than Arnold Schwarzenegger. Even the companies themselves treated the film incarnations of their characters as totally separate properties.

I am also not naïve enough to suggest that after X-Men, the films and the comics were completely congruous, all part of one complete whole, but the films have been, more often than not, set in a sort of reality that has much more in common with the comics than just costumes and special powers. Bryan Singer’s X-Men was an anomalous turning point when studios, and filmmakers, realised that sticking closely to established superhero lore, at least as closely as possible, did not have to turn a film inherently unprofitable by appealing solely to a close knit cadre of nerds. In fact, the opposite would be true.

Like Silver Surfer to Galactus (NERD!), Singer’s X-Men heralded the coming of the serious superhero movie, and almost all superhero flicks followed have stuck to that particular modus operandi, some more so than others. I have to qualify the seriousness I suppose, because I don’t just mean it in its literal sense but the way it alludes to a link with reality. This turned out to be a slippery slope for superhero films. Being grounded in a recognisable, or at least relatable, reality sent the superhero genre towards a dark place where its central, most important tenet - being fun, and having a sense of wonder - was ripped from it by market forces and a vocal bunch of angry fanboys.

Bryan Singer’s X-Men was the first stop on the long road leading to the enervation of the superhero films. Relatability to reality was key in the way that film was formed – just like in the comics, the mutants worked as a metaphor for pretty much any minority you can think of, and their prosecution was made all the less subtle by making the chief villain of the piece a Holocaust survivor. The problem here, of course, was that the benevolent intentions of such a construction was lost on the general movie going populace – or at least the crowd of kids the film was aimed at. In the mutants’ ongoing fight for recognition, the teens saw their daily tribulations against their parents, school, society – whatever was pissing them off that day.

And this interpretation of the film’s central theme paved the way for pretty much all other comic book films to come in the following decade. Angst, melodrama and pomposity, coupled with the tendency permeating through all blockbusters to be longer, and more excessively violent, eventually transformed the superhero film into a mish mash of half-baked ideas.

The most recent example of this was The Dark Knight. The obvious problem is that Batman is a terrible character to begin with. When asked why the Batman in his two films never really made mention of the childhood tragedy that befell his parents, Joel Schumacher said: “I thought he should have got over it by the time he was forty.” And that is actually a more realistic approach to the character than the supposed realism of the modern Batman mythos. It also offers deeper insight. The realism championed by The Dark Knight, and many a modern superhero flick, is not so much realism but a gray, emo world of banality and bathos, all pandering to the annoying thirteen years old of this world, in age, or in mentality.

No matter how often you say a thing, that thing does not become true unless it was true to begin with.

IRON MAN is the ONLY superhero-based movie which is an accurate interpretation of the source, while also being grounded in a "reality," and, most importantly, fun to watch.

Everyone clamoring on and on about THE DARK KNIGHT and its supposed realism or seriousness or even its regard for the source material or whatever are simply engaged in trying to call a thing which isn't a thing that is.

Firstly, realism goes out the window the minute a school bus can ram its rear-end through a brick wall, destroying the wall but leaving its rear door intact. From then on, realism isn't even an issue, is it? I mean, sure seat belts will save your life in an automobile accident. Except for those times the automobile flips over a couple of times. Realistically, that's the time the seat belt is going to ensure your death.

Secondly, seriousness? "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Sounds serious, donut? If only I'd stuck around after the credits to see a collection of bloopers to count how many takes it must've took for Aaron Eckhart to say that with a straight face!

Thirdly, every superhero film, except IRON MAN, dramatically changes a key element of its source. Superman suddenly gets the ability to turn his chest emblem into a saran-wrap net. Spider-man's web fluid is replaced by organic goo. X-men get a science-fictionish sheen, sans tights. And Batman, in his latest incarnation, looks much more like a robot than a bat. ("Hold on there, Joker," Batman mumbled in a hoarse whisper. "I'll stop you once I've had a team of costume technicians spend four hours applying all these plastic muscle-shaped pieces to my torso. It's more realistic than spandex. Weighs a ton, though, so would you mind standing exactly there so I can take a swing at you?") He also goes from being an absurdly confident character on the page to being a self-contradictory buffoon on film. In the first Nolan film, he won't kill a villain, but he doesn't have to save him, either. In the second Nolan film, he has to save the bad guy and take credit for some of the bad guy's killings to-boot. (Seriously? Good luck with that, realistically, considering you just saved 50 people and prevented the SWAT troops from a disaster, all in front of the city's favorite television reporter.)

In every case, the film-maker's license is promoted as a necessity. These changes MUST be made for the movie "to work." These film-maker's just have to change the costume, fudge the origin, re-envision this, that or the other, because, if they didn't, why, the American public would think it's all too silly. And the public, which would know better if they still taught critical thinking in American schools, trots merrily along, even perpetuating this canard.

Anybody other than me want to stand up for the argument that amazing, expanding, chest-S, saran-wrap nets don't "work" and aren't "necessary?" Anybody else going to admit that THE DARK KNIGHT was about as much fun as a poke in the eye?

I read mr. somers article, and found it made some excellent points. To adress one of the commentators above, film was inspired primarily by literature, you don't believe me, look up any great work of literature before the coming of film, and you'll see the themes, imagery, and characterization that film contains. Does that make film any less of an art form?....No. Video games have long been art, ever since the first pixels started bouncing around a screen. Videogames are also the only art form that allow any person to manipulate the events contained in such art to their own desires, and not just allowing a college-educated person be the only one to enjoy its intricacies. Film you can watch and be enthralled by its true, but videogames have their own special qualities, and in thier own way, are great forms of art.I recomend you try these games out to see what I mean-Max Payne, Fire Emblem:The Blazing Sword, Halo:Combat Evolved, and its sequels, The legend Of Zelda-Series, Call Of Duty 4:Modern Warfare. These are the truest representations of their kind, giving stellar production values, and engrossing you fully into the experience, unless you're the type who gripes about how videogames are the lazy man's type, or a cancer on our society, otherwise, play them to see what I mean.

On the subject of the superhero movies, they are not a lesser breed of movies. They deserve to get recognition.

Jim, I wonder what you think of Science Fiction author David Brin's assertion that super-heroes (or tales of any person who is somehow "more" than human) is by it's nature anti-democratic because such stories basically say if someone is "special" or "better" they can do as they please and not have to worry about the rules that "regular" people do.

Ali Arikan:

Yes, of course. Real life doesn't contain unhappiness, death, terrorism, long-lasting childhood trauma, or anything of the sort. Real life is all about watching wide-eyed as people fly around and shoot lasers at each other. Anything less joyous than that is "emo".[/sarcasm]

Schumacher's Batman films are not only the worst of the 4 in that series, but are also the least realistic. Looking to him for wisdom is, well, ridiculous.

I think the films you're talking about fewer and further between than you think; the post-X-Men genre is full of counter-examples, from the increasingly goofy Spider-Man movies to the Fantastic Four to Marvel's latest two outings (Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk).

And I think that, of the few films which do tend towards a darker place, most of them do so in order to provide hope after a long struggle. The Dark Knight is about death, corruption, and despair; it's also about heroism, love, and self-sacrifice. The same goes for many of the other films we're talking about. The world can be pretty dark place sometimes, and it's necessary to portray that before you can properly balance it out with a reaffirmation of hope and beauty.

--

Jim, I see nothing wrong or backhanded about calling The Dark Knight (or whichever film you choose) "the first great comic book movie". Horror and comedy (to use your examples) have been around as long as movies themselves. Comic book adaptations have only been around a few decades at the most, and it has only been in the past 10 years or so that technology and cultural awareness made convincing, artistically-relevant comic book adaptations possible.

Personally, I think we've been privileged to watch a genre explode from meager foundations to a flowering full enough to include not only deeper and more meaningful sources (The Dark Knight, the upcoming Watchmen, the more obscure ones like Persepolis and American Splendor) but new entries considering the idea of superheroes (movies like Unbreakable, Special, and Hancock).

And as far as seriousness goes... I think we had to wait around for it, even if it comes with a certain element of overgravitas in some misguided cases. Because you simply can't make a good movie if you don't invest yourself in the reality of the characters. That's why those camp movies are so ignominious--the filmmakers responsible are too scared or too elitist to engage their story on the level it deserves. Instead, they stand back and wink, to let you know that they're not really into this stuff.

We're still at that same level with video game adaptations, and will be until somebody slaps the industry upside the head, waves good source material in front of their face, and forces them to take it seriously. It's coming soon, I think; it might even be the Bioshock adaptation that does it. After all, Verbinski has shown at least twice that he can make good movies out of obscure or illegitimate source material (Japanese horror, theme-park rides) and have people engage them on a normal, rational level. But then, video games offer their own particular challenges of adaptation (and that's another discussion for another time...)

I would argue that the term 'pure cinema' speaks less to aesthetic principles than the idea of cinema as its own unique art form, separate from theater, print, and why not, comic books. To look at an art form as a combination of other art forms can carry with it an intrinsic pity for the cobbled together 'art' that one is considering. Its not just in the rules or language of the medium but also in the feeling of a great film, a great play, even a great comic book. When they work on all levels of possibility they almost have a flavor to them that is unique to that art form. And while the flavor itself as applied to each medium can be almost infinitely varied theres a certain tinge to it that screams 'This is a great film' 'This is a great novel,' etc. This may be the individual feeling of elation one experiences when in the presence. Anyway, to discount the idea of 'pure cinema' seems a bit myopic, like a child playing a matching game "That's a bear, and that's a bear...two bears". Honor the art form you love. Which brings me to comic books. I was a head over heels comic book fan in my youth. High School came along with girls and punk rock and foreign films and I was to leave behind the funny books. But there was always a part of me, one that exists even now in the post-Dark Knight era, that has and will continue to love comics. They are there own unique form, seemingly similar to but uniquely their own form of expression. They have their share of geniuses, Jack Kirby, Will Eisner, etc. And as someone who was not a big fan of Dark Knight, as someone who found the film to be a bit slow and not in that good Malick kind of way but more in that 'this slow pace isn't revealing much of anything to me' way, I must say that it seems the prevailing attitude for these funny book movies is one of validation for a termite art form (that's right, termite art). Finally the nerds can come out from their parent's basements and point to the marquee of their local theater and proclaim, "Ah HA! Look who dominates the mainstream now norms! That's right, look how dark and brooding this is, that means it has depth right....RIGHT?!?!" I cringe a little bit anytime I hear a producer, and especially a director, say "Oh well comics are just like story boards, look, visual storytelling, we're just making the figures move is all". Story boards are a blueprint, much like a script, subservient to what will be the finished piece of art, not the art itself. Storyboards are boxes on top of each other with the pacing to be made up for by the actors and the editor. Its a backup plan. In case the director can't find a more interesting way to stage action he or she can refer back to the storyboards and know what they need to get through the scene. Comics, though lacking the astronomical sales of the golden age of the '40s and bogged down by fifty, sixty, seventy years of continuity (quick note for the uninitiated: the monthly comics mags have had many story arcs over the years and the events depicted become a part of a larger continuity. Every few years when the fevered machinations of the writers and artists has made this history too burdensome, or if they want to set everything back to zero, or if they just want to wrench a few more dollar bills from their audience, they'll create a mega arc where maybe some characters die and theres a global threat. Please note, no comic book character stays dead...especially now that they can be optioned for their very own movin' picture!) or the forgivable weaknesses of their origins or motivations for fighting crime, despite all this they exist within a form that has structure, rules, mavericks who break the rules, compelling drama, a rich history on and off the page, and something they have since lost: an archetypal depiction of heroes and villains. They've fallen from the more mythical plain to become dark and brooding and mysterious and disturbing. Comics as an industry always seems to be shooting itself in the foot, from the HUAC hearings in the 50's, to the speculators market crash of the 90's as well as the darkening of comics in the 90's as well. If you want to be taken seriously as a medium don't look to be overtaken and exploited by an admittedly larger and often times more fulfilling medium nor engage in clumsily 'dark' story lines, embrace and love the possibilities of your own medium. And also, don't let geeky fan boys dictate too much of what happens in the stories. Fans are to be shown what to like, they decide for themselves if they like it or not, and more often then not they'll love something beyond them, not something that panders to them or is constantly on the defensive because the characters wear tights. Pure cinema is a myth? Pff, so is pure comic books.

Mike: I like Favreau's IRON-MAN as much as the next guy, but I'm a little lost on that comment that Nolan's THE DARK KNIGHT is not realistic but Faveau's film is indeed grounded in reality (i.e. flying robots, anyone?).

It seems to me they both played the reality dimensions the same way, with Iron-Man being, well, Iron-Man with the super-duper power suit and all, and Batman with the sonar device and the rest of the gadgets. All in a world that, as Ebert said in his review for BATMAN BEGINS, while it is not real, acts as if it is, and in a way, makes one sense as if it is indeed real while watching it. To argue that one is more realistic over the other, however, seems rather foolish to me.

Both filmmakers seemed to be fully aware of their natural far-fetched elements, since they seemed to use it rather freely from time to time. Nolan has admited as such, at least.

Curiously, THE INCREDIBLES is rarely mentioned when talking about superhero films, and yet to me it is still the best superhero film of all time and one of my top 5 favorite films. It seems that the stylized world of animation is the best medium to portray people in tight form-fitting costumes without it looking a bit silly because, let's face it, Hollywood designers have had to agonize over designs to make costumes look credible on less-than-perfect humans. Comic books and graphic novels are not just about mythology but line, form, color and action. The movie industry saw these common elements and has been attempting to make it work in live action for the past 20 years. As an illustrator, I get distracted by all the visual clutter that fills the frames of some of these over-designed adaptations.
As clean and simple are the graphics of Will Eisner, Steve Rude and Jack Kirby, so are the stories - spare and to the point. Pixar's ability to tell a story that appears simple on the surface, yet is so full of intelligence, should be a role model for the genre in live action, for they are much closer to the way comic books tell stories.
Look, let's face it, the costume design is almost everything for superheroes isn't it? Describe a superhero and you're describing a person who dresses up to go to work.
The desire to make Batman as real as possible puts it into the precarious position of negating the need for a costume altogether, because the whole pretext of Batman supposedly being "terrifying" to villains just doesn't work when he's essentially in a hi-tech SWAT uniform with a cape and pointy ears. And god knows what his fighting style is because we never get a decent long shot to see it. Iron Man got it pretty well - you'd be hard pressed to complain about that costume. Spiderman? Nice translation to the screen, but I've always hated drawing that damned suit - too many lines. The Hulk? Green skin will never look 100% convincing in live action, unless it's a reptile. Somehow, the Superman costume still works and oddly enough, it hasn't changed much in 60 years. Must have something to do with the simplicity of its design. Perhaps because we go in accepting how over-the-top and God-like a hero he is that we're will to accept the colorful tights.
Yes, this post is a lot to do with design, but if we stray from the profoundly important visual aspect of comics and graphic novels when translating to the medium of film, we fail to capture what stirs the imagination of the readers. The makers of comics need to tell the stories in pictures because the designs and colors fill in the descriptions that would otherwise slow down the dynamic nature of these action-packed and audacious stories. We are as affected by composition within a frame as the music or acting in a film.
For those of you in doubt, just look at the book The Art of The Incredibles. There is a fold-out section that shows beautiful thumbnail storyboards - what's called a color script - by Lou Romano. It's the entire film told with color palette and composition. There is the whole film's emotional rhythm. If only more films were planned as brilliantly and visually sound.

The mistaken idea that cinema is "pure" and not a mixed medium runs very deep, and can be most clearly seen in one oft-repeated falsehood: that the director is the "author" of the film. This is an idea certain critics and the Director's Guild have been very attached to for quite a while, and it's simply wrong.

The task of a director is exactly what his name implies: to marshal the disparate elements of the film into a cohesive whole. Even a world-class director like Martin Scorsese chooses a screenplay for the film's story and dialogue, hires a cinematographer and an editor to deal with its visuals, and auditions actors to read the lines. This is not rocket science; it is basic to the medium of film. Yet so deep is the desire of some to see film as a single-author art form, they choose to credit directors almost exclusively and very nearly omit screenwriters altogether.

JK, I certainly disagree that comics have "shot themselves in the foot" darkening as they did during the 90's. Changes to the comics industry happen for the same reason as changes to any other industry: as a response to customer desires. The 90's darkened because the late 80's saw the introduction of comics like The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen - both of which were grim and serious, and both of which enjoyed immense critical and economic success. A lot of the resulting imitations were mediocre at best, but is that really any worse than the unfettered camp that has characterized superhero comics since their inception? My interest in superhero comics was virtually nil until labels like Vertigo started releasing more serious work. Is it "stupid" of the industry to try and get my money? Are they failing?

To be completely honest, I don't blame people for being defensive about "The Dark Knight's" seriousness. My parents are still not completely aware that Batman isn't a blue-and-grey Adam West slapstick act. It's taken comics decades to achieve narrative depth, taken comic book movies a decade to catch up, and without movies like "The Dark Knight" there would be no reason for people to disbelieve the stereotypes.

Every time I hear someone (and it's Ebert as much as anybody) say that a movie in a certain genre *must* include this bit or *cannot* include that other bit to be true to its genre, I wince. Or at least I do if the same person turns around and disparages those who would not take that particular genre seriously.

Case in point: an earlier post on a different thread wanted to know what was wrong with The Dark Knight, got an answer about lack of subtlety, and came back with something like: "Lack of subtlety is required in comic adaptations". Is it really? Well if it is than those who consider subtlety requisite to their personal idea of a great film can therefore never take comic adaptations seriously. See how that works?

I'm not saying the guy was right re: comics movies, but personally he hit it on the head for me about why I'm not too much into genres. I do love film noir. Even if they hit all the archetypes like clockwork the style just does it for me. But I can't really argue with those that groan and say they want something less predictable. By definition genre is niche. Many genre films have received major box office and critical acclaim but still the criticism is built in. (Like the automatic criticism seen at this site towards the long, earnest--what's the word?--"prestige" genre.)If you can't accept the genre you can't accept the movie. So then the filmmaker has to decide: Play to the base or try to win over the skeptics. I would say right now the comic fan base is plenty big and plenty energized, so why worry about the eye-rollers. (Like me....sometimes.)

"eventually transformed the superhero film into a mish mash of half-baked ideas"

For another mish-mash of half-baked ideas, see: Ali's mini-essay, up above.

"The obvious problem is that Batman is a terrible character to begin with."

This I suppose is what's known as the "Everyone else in the world for 70 years has been WRONG!!!!!!" statement. Only you 'get it', Ali. Only you, wise you, understand what a lame character Batman is.

"When asked why the Batman in his two films never really made mention of the childhood tragedy that befell his parents, Joel Schumacher said: “I thought he should have got over it by the time he was forty.” And that is actually a more realistic approach to the character than the supposed realism of the modern Batman mythos. It also offers deeper insight."

No, it doesn't. People don't get over those things. Ever. They don't all become bat-men, but they don't 'get over it'. Joel Schumacher is a retard.

"The realism championed by The Dark Knight, and many a modern superhero flick, is not so much realism but a gray, emo world of banality and bathos"

Emo? Really? One can argue that Nolan's batman films are self-important and stuffy and grim and no fun, but to call them 'emo' is silly. What's to stop you from calling Bergman's movies emo? It's a stupid term that means nothing and is just an excuse for people to criticize earnest, unironic filmmaking, which, living as we do in this high-ironic age, makes many people very uncomfortable. It's somehow offensive today for a movie to seem to take itself seriously. God forbid!

If we're going to get into film-crit theorizing, in which we overanalyze everything until it's all laughable and meaningless, then my argument would be that there is a certain sort of film snob that does not like to see superhero movies 'putting on airs', and being made and sold as real cinematic art. And I don't say this as a superhero fan - I am a comics fan from childhood, but I didn't love TDK, and still think Spider-Man 2 is the best film in the genre. But I see a lot of rationalizing in an attempt to discredit a film that sat down at table with David Lean epics and Bergman and Fellini and all the great cinema of all time, and didn't feel ashamed of itself or out of place in that company. It makes you nervous. It makes you think maybe film isn't as inherently serious and respectable an art as you think it is, or wish it was, if a comic book movie can be such a hit critically and commercially. But then that's your problem.

Mike ---

Spot on about Iron Man. In my review for the film I was shocked at how much anticipation I had for each scene. Why? Because it felt more grounded in "reality" than The Dark Knight or other super-serious superhero movies. That "reality" of course doesn't translate into our everyday reality, but since when did we the audience need comic book movies to be Cassavettes. Rip Schumacher all you want, but his Batman pictures were just as bearable (if not more so) as Burton's. Favreau got it right with Iron Man in making me feel like everything that was happening to Tony Stark was real for THAT film in THAT universe. Nothing preachy, nothing heavy-handed, just a great "realistic" comic book movie when considering the context. That's why Iron Man is a more "realistic" comic book movie than The Dark Knight.

I'd like to add that everyone should go read Ali's post on the superhero genre....it's a wonderful read, even for comic book neophytes like myself.

Yay. Another blog entry designed to draw out TDK haters (don't even deny it, Jim, you know it to be true). Yeah, you'll get some incredibly provocative discussions about what (supposedly) works in one medium and what (supposedly) doesn't in another. I think we've covered all this...many, many, many times. Ad nauseum doesn't even begin to describe it.

I think you should really devote some blog space to why Pineapple Express is just the bestest film of the year. State it in bold terms: "Anyone who doesn't like Pineapple Express doesn't understand, or underestimates, comedy".

Or, better yet, how about a blog entry devoted to what makes films like Milk, Revolutionary Road, Doubt, The Wrestler, etc., (all of which certainly have their virtues) so incredibly "deep" and or "challenging" and/or "substantial"?

As it stands, I'll just sit this blog entry out, as it's just more of the same. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but it can also evoke a strong feeling of ennui.

JE: I thought I was trying to reach out to, and better understand, "TDK" lovers. Surely "Pineapple Express" needs no defense.

I think I've covered my thoughts on comic book films pretty thoroughly in past comments -- Spider-Man 2 is the best superhero movie ever, Spider-Man 3 was a crushing disappointment I still haven't recovered from, Dark Knight was good but not quite great, blah blah -- so I have just a few thoughts on video game movies, instead.

The problem with movies based on video games is simple: A) So far they've chosen the wrong games to adapt, and B) even the right games don't necessarily warrant an adaptation, either. I have to disagree with Somers -- some video games have thought-provoking, moving stories with first-rate scripts, acting, etc. Many? No. Video games, as a medium, are not fundamentally well suited to producing good, original stories the way we think of them in film terms. Even the best examples that many gamers often cite are far from exceptional. Metal Gear Solid? I love it, but it is essentially a sometimes awkward mish-mash of spy genre tropes and (increasingly in the sequels) insane Theater of the Absurd philosophizing. Halo? Fun games, but a pretty standard sci-fi humans-vs-aliens storyline with an archetypal stoic, grizzly-voiced hero at the center. And if Somers thinks the Tomb Raider games have stories that are really that much better than the movies, well... I guess all I can say is I very much disagree.

I say this all as a lifelong gamer myself. And it's not to say games can't produce great and moving stories. But the simple fact is storytelling in video games still has a long way to go. I remember earlier this year when Grand Theft Auto IV came out, and some critics compared its story and characters to a Martin Scorsese film. I dunno what Scorsese movies they were watching, but I didn't see it -- it's a great game, yes, but I saw the same awkward, jittery, constantly-arm-waving motion-captured "acting" that appears in far too many games, and in all the simple elements that make a movie a movie (cinematography, editing, mise-en-scene, pacing), all the cut-scenes in the game were lacking.

The games that do stand out to me as great storytelling achievements are mostly the games that move away from the standard cut-scene format, and instead have what the great Newsweek writer N'Gai Croal calls "embeded narratives." These are games like Half-Life, Portal, Ico, Shadow of the Colossus, and BioShock -- games that rarely take you out of the experience of playing them, and instead find ways to tell their stories through the gameplay.

It reminds me of how so many people have said Alan Moore's "Watchmen" would never be filmable, and why many are still skeptical of Zack Snyder's upcoming adaptation. It's a work that fundamentally told its story through the medium of the comic book, using the juxtaposed nature of sequential art in ways I wonder will survive the translation to film. I'm hopeful about Gore Verbinski's planned adaptation of BioShock, but if it fails to tell the game's story as well as the game could using the unique nature of video games, then what will really have been accomplished?

Video games will never be able to do what movies do as well as movies do them. Movies will never be able to do what video games can the way only video games can do them. Why does anyone want either of them to, anyway? Play a game for a game, watch a movie for a movie. If you still feel you need the movie industry to "legitimize" video games, well... get over it.

"When asked why the Batman in his two films never really made mention of the childhood tragedy that befell his parents, Joel Schumacher said: “I thought he should have got over it by the time he was forty.” And that is actually a more realistic approach to the character than the supposed realism of the modern Batman mythos. It also offers deeper insight."

Did I just read the words "Schumacher", "Batman", "realistic", and "deeper insight" together in the same paragraph? Holy irony, Batman!

I have seen TDK twice and do not recall a single significant mention or reference to the death of Bruce Wayne's parents (unlike Schumacher's Batman Forever). In fact, in TDK, Bruce actually wants to give up being Batman and hopes Harvey Dent will make that possible. The only reason he continues is because Gotham needs it (and Harvey fails). I would say that is the more realistic approach at work right there (of course, whether you think the movie succeeds in presenting it is another issue).

By the way, Mr. Emerson, how come these TDK posts never generate many comments? You'd think no one had seen the movie. Does no one take this seriously!?

The problem with discussion revolving around "The Dark Knight" (which really hasn't brought out the best in people) is that the issues are framed in absolutes, as well as assumptions about how people on either side feel about the movie.

Personally, I just don't give a damn whether it was based on a comic book or not (don't read them anyway). I care about whether the movie engages me cinematically, thematically and emotionally whether it's based on a Pulitzer-prize winning book or a comic book or anything else. Perhaps, if people bothered to actually watch the movie that Christopher Nolan made minus the preconceptions, the discussion on this topic might be a little more rich.

What I often see are the movie's fans taking the movie way too seriously as if their existence was staked on it receiving proper acknowledgement. Or its detractors acting all outraged that a movie with guys in costumes dared to tackle serious subjects. The detractors' increasingly embittered comments have become so ridiculous that we now have people using the cliched, thoroughly by the numbers, written by screenplay committee "Iron Man" being used as something to measure "reality". (Come on, without Robert Downey Jr., this movie would be taken just slightly more seriously than a Brett Ratner movie.)

When did reality become the goto argument for seriousness? And, while, we're at it, who exactly can define what reality is? Some person's reality may be self-delusion to my eyes. And while we're at, is a movie's reflection of reality the way we're supposed to measure its success? And, couldn't we just about find something preposterous in any great film?

I thought "No Country for Old Men" was a great film, but does that movie (or any other Coen brothers movie for that matter) occur in a realistic world? I happened to see "Frost/Nixon" a couple of days ago and that movie rang false on several levels despite being closer to "reality".

I barely even saw "The Dark Knight" as a superhero movie, so I don't know why each discussion has to be framed around that notion. To me, "The Dark Knight" was about the use of fear to manipulate and control people and about characters who find it difficult to stick to their principles in the face of fear. It was about the willingness to sacrifice oneself for the greater good rather than to pursue justice for selfish reasons. Are we discussing a movie's ideas (which I would prefer) or how closely or not it adheres to its genre?

On Batman and his parents: because Joel Schumacher said it doesn't make it untrue. Because it denies the central conceit of the character makes it untrue.

Jim: without really talking about TDK specifically, isn't it a bit of a contradiction to say, in a single breath, that you don't generally like comic book adaptations, and that it's silly to praise a film as being "the first great comic adaptation"? It doesn't seem any more condescending to call a movie the first great film of its mini-genre, than to say that that genre has had no great films. It could be that a lot of people see The Dark Knight as...actually being the best comic book adaptation, period, in a genre that, before a boom following X-Men less than a decade ago, contained the Superman movies and the Batman movies but basically nothing else.

Anyway, it's basically true though that there are few comic adaptaions that have been great films--but then, there have been very few TV show adaptations (I'm talking about complete re-imaginings, ala The Fugitive or The Brady Bunch or Get Smart, not films existing in the same universe like the Star Trek movies or South Park or Serenity). Comics, like television shows, are a long-form medium spanning years, even decades, whereas most novels or plays contain a smaller amount of raw material. TV shows are not the best material for adaptation anyway (they're already in a film-like medium, so the good TV shows are already too ingrained in audiences' memories to replace, and the bad ones are not worth doing), but I part of the problem is similar. There's years of material to cull from, and the temptation to include as much of it as possible often overrides the creation of a coherent universe.

Sometimes this can work out well. The great Spider-Man 2 puts Peter's crisis of faith and spider-self against Doc Ock, and somehow finds thematic connections between the two even though there really aren't any. Iron Man took the basic outline and focused on the character relationships and Tony Stark's sense of invention

The Dark Knight, like Spider-Man 3 and the X-Men movies, put out multiple villains and tried to integrate them all together; there are mobsters, Scarecrow (briefly), the Joker, and Two-Face. I understand the temptation. These bad guys are so iconic; and they've been around for forty years. How could you make a great movie with only one of them? Don't you want to make your movie bigger by including more than one? But it's also like The Godfather 2: why show one story when you have a story already respected and well liked enough to show two, ricocheting off each other? Probably it should have gone the Spidey 2 route, by having Dent's transformation play slowly out in the background (like Harry Osborne's) and culminating in the next film. As is, the transformation is mildly effective but psychologically difficult to accept, Aaron Eckhart's solid performance notwithstanding.

Anyway. I liked TDK as a nightmare, dark, brooding, full of flashes of violence and long periods of dread. I think it's either far too long, or far too short, because it proceeds for two hours forty minutes at a frantic, end-of-the-world pace. I'm looking forward to seeing it again, but I'm not holding my breath that the movie will really amount to more than a fever, with a lot of ideas and ambitions and not enough discipline. Which is a shame, because I think Christopher Nolan's non-Batman movies (i.e. Memento and The Prestige) hold together very well thematically.

I don't know what to say about comic book movies. Me, I always liked the first "Superman". So far I haven't seen a comic book movie to surpass it cinematically. I think it ranks with "Star Wars" as great fun pop fantasy. I don't know if I can ever take a comic book movie totally seriously. Super hero movies especially. I had problems with both "Iron Man" and "The Dark Knight". Other than Robert Downey Jr's performance I can't really pinpoint what separates "Iron Man" from the other super hero films. I can't take "The Dark Knight" seriously, it's about a man dressing up as a bat doing battle with a guy in a clown face. In the end I was entertained by both films but if I think about how serious this movies are I can't help but laugh.

Besides Superman can take both of them.

Kris,

I could not agree with you more, and I just wanted to add a few things (more for the benefit of non-gamers. I'm sure you're already aware of this.) Video games do NOT need to tell a story at all to be a great game, and I'm not talking about things like Tetris.

CastleVania: Symphony of the Night originally released for the PS1. Awesome game. It usually has a home on lists of the top games ever made. One of my personal favorites that I still play over a decade later. Horrible horrible horrible story. You *play* CastleVania.

There's maybe ten minutes of cutscenes with laughably bad voice acting. The rest of that 7-10+ hour experience is spent roaming a beautifully drawn castle, gaining powers, and fighting Dracula's minions (one of whom bearing resemblence to Nosferatu himself, rising up off the ground stiff and straight whenever you knock him down.) There's not much to Symphony, but it's a very fun game.

Doom, Super Mario Bros, Mega Man, Super Metroid, Pac-man, Yar's Revenge, Street Fighter 2 -- these games have a premise at best. A cheap excuse to get you into the interaction, and that interaction is the heart of the medium.

I loved playing Doom and Doom 2, and when I heard they were making a movie my only thoughts were, "Why?" Doom never had much to work with except maybe as a mindless action flick. Sure, Doom is known for introducing atmosphere into the realm of FPS -- and that atmosphere can be replicated in cinema -- but without the interaction it's just not Doom.

Like Kris is saying, it's a very very different medium. It's not impossible for games to tell a great story, and it's not impossible for them to emulate movies and books successfully ... but usually when Video Games wander into another medium's territory, it's asking for trouble.

William B: I see what you're saying, and it's not what I meant. I should try to make it clearer. I don't think it's "silly" to praise "TDK" as "the first great superhero movie" (or such like). I was trying to say that it almost seems like damning it with faint praise -- because, in my estimation, there really haven't been many good movies adapted from superhero comic books. (I love the 1978 "Superman," I like the first two "Spider-Man" movies... and have a perverse affection for Tim Burton's "Batman Returns.") My main point (now that it's just been released on disc) is: Let's talk about it as a movie, not just a superhero movie. I've had some illuminating discussions about "The Wrestler" with a friend who digs World Wrestling Entertainment, but in the end we don't talk about it as just a "wrestling movie." As I say, a metaphor is a metaphor...

Speaking of Superman, I developed a scale to seperate good superhero movies from bad ones.

Gene Siskel's "is this movie as interesting as a movie about these actors having lunch?" bit partly inspired the system. Psycho and Superman did the rest.

I present, my Psycho/Superman opening credits test. Whenever I sit down to watch Hitch's masterpiece, and those famous strings start up with the gray blocks flying past the screen ... it brings me to the edge of my seat, and I get pumped to watch the grand-pappy of slasher films. One time I realized I would rather watch Psycho's opening credits for 90+ minutes than your average cookie-cutter thriller.

Same thing with Superman. When "A Richard Donner Film" streaks by followed by the superman symbol and John Williams unleashes that three note motif ... yeah, to be a successful superhero movie, it has to be more entertaining than watching Superman's opening credits for an equal length of time.

It wouldn't seem like that would be hard to do, but a depressing number of movies fail the Psycho/Superman Credits test.

BTW, JC, The Dark Knight does pass said test in my book. ;)

'I can't take "The Dark Knight" seriously, it's about a man dressing up as a bat doing battle with a guy in a clown face.'

This shows your limitations, not the movie's. By your standards I can think of dozens of certified classics that, for one reason or another, you would be unable to enjoy. But I doubt you use those same standards when watching those films (but now I sound like a fanboy evangelist, when I'm not).

'Let's talk about it as a movie, not just a superhero movie.

As a movie, it's glum, grim, flabby, and a thematic and moral mess. It's well-made and well-acted (Bale's bat-voice notwithstanding), but it's nothing special, probably only better than average. Except- and there is much more to this than its being the last performance of a martyred up-and-coming actor- it's got The Joker in it. There is something so special about this actor, this performance, and this version of the character, which is the only thing in the movie to embody, to really, truly embody, and not merely talk about, what it was intended to represent, that it elevates the entire movie. For me, it doesn't elevate it to 'the heights', as it apparently does for many people. But it does lift it a bit above the average. Beyond that, I think it's all marketing and, for lack of a better word, hoopla.

So I didn't even really like the movie. It just happened to be the 'average, maybe a bit better' movie in which a really riveting marriage of a great character with a great actor took place. Seen this way, it's at about the level of 'The Edge', which is a forgettable, professional movie, that just happens to feature Anthony Hopkins giving a great performance as a great character.

But having said all that, the backlash is embarrassing for everyone involved. Not worth the time.

Spider-Man 2 is a bit different (that is, we can judge TDK just 'as a movie' because it IS just a movie, and has nothing fundamentally comic-book about it, in its spirit or nature or what have you) because it IS a comic book movie. And so far as it succeeds, it does so because it is the first (and so far only) film to ever capture, perfectly, the spirit of superhero comics, while also doing everything else right, so that the illusion is never broken. It's a film of a comic book. It works as a good comic does. I would find it difficult to discuss it without noting that it's a comic book movie.

Jay: You must have read my mind. That's a great point, but I felt my original comment was already getting too lengthy. :P

Like you say, a game can have a great story, but it doesn't need a great story to be a great game. I mentioned BioShock and Portal before -- both 2007 releases -- as two great examples of games with "embedded narratives." But my favorite game of last year? Super Mario Galaxy, a game with some of the most imaginative level design and gameplay variety I've ever seen... and a story that might as well not have even been there. This year? Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts, simply for it's absurdly fun vehicle creator. God help us if anyone ever made either of them into a movie, though... but come to think of it, they already did make a Super Mario Bros. movie. Clearly, there is no God.

On a separate note: As for the perverse affection for Batman Returns... it's the rocket penguin army at the end, isn't it? Even for the so-not-serious superhero genre, that's still among the most awesomely insane things I've ever seen in a film.

bad points
- rip-roaring action. muddled story, almost incoherent timing, pacing issues
- the kind of a PG-13 that desperately wants the credibility of an R rating
- no complete scenes, just arbitrary montages, robs the viewer of any suspense
- issues with characters ultimate outcomes also rob the viewer of any real suspense
- hot-shot direction uncharacteristic of Nolan's usual understated approach
- Ledger's Joker merely a pastiche, a variation on Nicholson - complete with mannerisms
- Bale's Batman barely intelligible; incredibly irritating, not enough Bruce Wayne
- feels like scenes or situations are missing, majority of supporting characters unnecessary
- running time artificially extended because of emphasis on "epic action sequences"
- every plot point hinges on impossible circumstances/resolutions and ridiculous concepts
- the Joker is not as frightening a villian as Scarecrow (at least in these adaptations)

good points
- art direction, set direction, and cinematography marvelous - use of natural/practical light
- Caine, Freeman, Oldman, Eckhart; cameos by Cillian Murphy, Anthony Michael Hall
- stunts (though ridiculous) very well choreographed, too many improbable explosions though

As mindless entertainment, I wouldn't argue the need for this brand of escapism, but to call it a movie that "redefines" cinema or superhero comic book movies would be an enormous overstatement. I enjoyed it, as much as I could, but it doesn't hold a candle to Batman Begins.

The best video game stories are those that subordinate the game elements to the story events and characters. So-called graphical adventure games, like "Grim Fandango" (which I contend is the best thing George Lucas has ever been associated with other than "Raiders") and "The Longest Journey," have great stories--they're very linear and meticulously plotted, and the game elements are incidental, though often challenging, components. The games are really about great characters, strong story arcs, interesting situations and superb art design.

Certain role-playing games like "Planescape: Torment" downplay the usual stats and combat situations in favor of huge blocks of dialog and narrative text- if you actually wrote a book with all the dialog from "Planescape" you'd end up with a scope and depth comparable to Roberto Bolaño's "2666," though not as well written obviously. The game is often criticized by hardcore gamers because there is so much reading involved and so little fighting. Players earn points by progressing the plot or winning "philosophical" arguments.

The problem is that film studios are looking at sales and marketable brands. So instead of adapting more literate titles, they adapt brainless action games or aesthetically interesting games that lack substantive content, basically properties that are well known to the general public.

The same thing goes for comics. Film studios have pretty much milked the mainstream superhero thing for all its worth while ignoring ("Sandman") or messing up ("Constatine," "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," "Watchmen" potentially) more interesting titles. So far "Superman" and "Ironman" are the only qualified superhero success stories as far as I'm concerned, since they both played to the strengths of the medium while ignoring maudlin undercurrents. There are literate comic series, but they're ignored for the same reason good games are: perceived marketability. Occasionally you get graphic novel adaptations, like "Persepolis" and "A History of Violence," that work, but these are distinct from the superhero market and get funneled into prestige picture subsidiaries.

Sorry, this is meandering and directionless, and I've run out of time. I suppose the main thrust is that quality is dependent on picking titles that lend themselves well to filmic and textual treatments, not just name recognition and profits. You might be able to pull an animated sleeper hit out of "Grim Fandango" or "Deus Ex" or a moving fantasy-drama from "Sandman." Or even staying true to a franchise, like "Hellblazer" (which was adapted and Americanized as "Constatine"), might yield good results.

The main problem is always money and abstract market perceptions, rather than any inherent limitations of different mediums.

Paul: I get what you're saying about Spider-Man 2, and can't agree with you more that it perfectly captures the spirit of the Spider-Man comics at their best. But I think one of the keys to the film is that it does, where appropriate, play its scenes straight, and not as if it was aware it's a "comic book movie" and has to act however one might think a comic book movie has to act at all times. I remember being astonished during the scene where (SPOILER, AS IF SOMEONE ACTUALLY HASN'T SEEN IT BY NOW) where Peter tells Aunt May about what really happened to Uncle Ben. In just a few, long, quiet takes, the scene plays out like an honest, straight forward portrayal of a tortured youth finally unburdening himself of at least one (particularly tragic) secret in his life. It works entirely because of the performances, the writing, and the direction, and it'd work even if there weren't thrilling action sequences surrounding it.

As much as The Dark Knight is hailed for being a "realistic" comic book movie, compared to Spider-Man 2 (or yes, Iron Man to an extent as well), it drastically short changes the humans behind the masks and grisly make-up -- despite being about half an hour longer. Spider-Man 2 is a film that took its characters seriously, but did not -- as Jim warned in his post -- confuse "serious" with "dreary" or "pedantic." These felt like real people having extraordinary things happen to them, with a story firmly grounded in the little details of what life would be like, more or less, if you were a superhero. That was always the genius of Spider-Man, and the first two movies -- but especially 2 -- captured it perfectly.

And speaking of The Edge, there's a movie I have my own perverse affection for. "Fire from ice, Robert! Can you tell me how?!" I can't tell you how many times quotes from that movie have been bandied between me and my friends.

"Perhaps, if people bothered to actually watch the movie that Christopher Nolan made minus the preconceptions, the discussion on this topic might be a little more rich."

Um, ebony pot, the black kettle just called you the n-word. You sanctimonius expletive-deleted! I watched the same movie you did. I watched it as carefully as you did. The only difference? This little habit I have of thinking about what I'm watching and expecting it to make some sort of plausible sense. You seem to propose that because you have decided to settle for nonsense, so should we all. Now tell me again how unsatisfying these discussions have been for you. Prat.

"it's the rocket penguin army at the end, isn't it?"

Yes. God, yes! It's also seeing Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman give herself a tongue and paw bath. It's also the ambition and originality of the film-maker. The nearly-Biblical depth of the Penguin's plot. The nods to "Caligari" and "Freaks." It is also the flaws - big, bold and maddening - and the lack of pretension. Burton never marketed his Batman as THE Batman. But, THIS IS A BIG "BUT," his Batman, equally as far removed from the source as Nolan's, is unmistakably A Batman, not a mumble-mouthed version of James Bond dressed in a ridiculous costume with a bat logo on it.

"(i.e. flying robots, anyone?)"

Sorry, bro - I know you think you came up with a great gotcha moment there. The technology - silly as it is - is the premise of Iron Man. It's the core of the concept. You make a film called IRON MAN, you're making a movie about a guy in a metal suit. You suspend your disbelief to accept that, or you go watch something about four scientists who fly a rocket through space radiation and return to Earth with superpowers instead of, say, cancer. The "flying robots" in IRON MAN were less believable than ANYTHING in TDK? Really? OK. Whatever. You make a movie with a character called Batman, but you dress him in a really clunky suit that looks like a bad football uniform, you've got the core concept wrong.

Mr. Lawler...

- rip-roaring action. muddled story, almost incoherent timing, pacing issues

"Rip-roaring action" is a negative? Muddled story? Seems any time a story has dark components that emotionally conflict with one another it's deemed "muddled". Isn't conflict what it's all about? Wouldn't one singular through-line be rather, I dunno, predictable? As for timing and pacing, I had no trouble following any component of the story, and thought it was the most briskly executed two-and-a-half hour film I've ever seen. Batman Begins was the relatively leisurely (which is fine) set-up, and this was the emotional and thematic escalation....things speed up accordingly. I felt the impact of virtually everything that happened onscreen.

- the kind of a PG-13 that desperately wants the credibility of an R rating

So, R-rated films have more credibility? It would've been more "credible" to just show Joker slash that black man's throat, rather than set it up and cut to the reaction shot, allowing the viewer to use their own imagination? Damn, I guess Hitchcock needs to rise from the grave and re-shoot the shower scene from Psycho, 'cause we didn't actually see a knife penetrate Janet Leigh's skin.

- no complete scenes, just arbitrary montages, robs the viewer of any suspense

There are montages designed to amplify tension, certainly. As for complete scenes, I dunno, off the top off my head, I recall: Wayne discussing his night out with the Batmen with Alfred, and Harvey and Rachel's relationship; Rachel and Harvey dealing with Maroni in the courtroom; Harvey and Gordon in his office discussing mob money and The Batman; Wayne asking Fox for a new suit; Harvey, Gordon, and the mayor discussing RICO; Harvey, Rachel, and Wayne in a restaurant talking about the need for a masked vigilante in Gotham...

That's just, what?, in the first 30 minutes alone?

- issues with characters ultimate outcomes also rob the viewer of any real suspense

Harvey becoming Two-Face, for instance? Mythic predestination. Most of us know the broad strokes of how these things are going to play out...the pudding's in the details. The journey, not the destination, my friend.

- hot-shot direction uncharacteristic of Nolan's usual understated approach

Yes, it would be best if all of Nolan's films had the exact same tone, pace, and structure.

- Ledger's Joker merely a pastiche, a variation on Nicholson - complete with mannerisms

The lowest registers of his voice may evoke Nicholson a tad, but beyond that, you're way off-base. Most have compared his typical speaking voice to be more like that of Al Franken, with a little Cagney thrown in for good measure. Beyond that, his darting glances, cheek-licking (which is actually a pretty common compulsive condition amongst those with scars on their face), ominous head tilt...really, nothing like Nicholson's broad clown. Then we could, obviously, get into a discussion about the thematic components of the character...

- Bale's Batman barely intelligible; incredibly irritating, not enough Bruce Wayne

You'd probably notice a difference in the sound mix at home, with regards to Bale's Batman voice. It seems some theater projectionists cranked up the bass a bit too much, drowning out the dialogue mix a bit. As for the voice itself, it's pretty much the first Batman I've seen who didn't give away his identity the moment he opened his mouth. For my money, it should sound a bit strange, and would be terribly disorienting to anyone encountering it in person. As for Bruce, there are plenty of scenes with him and Alfred, Rachel, Fox, even Harvey, and he even does some detective work during the Commissioner's funeral, and protects the Wayne Enterprises employee from vehicular homicide.

- feels like scenes or situations are missing, majority of supporting characters unnecessary

One scene (after the fund-raising event), as someone pointed out earlier, may have existed, and perhaps been excised because it wasn't working. Beyond that, I have no idea what you're talking about. As for supporting characters, I can't think of a single one (even the solid character actor in the cell with Joker), that doesn't serve an emotional and/or thematic purpose in the film.

- running time artificially extended because of emphasis on "epic action sequences"

They're integrated perfectly well into the fabric of the story...I have no complaints in that regard whatsoever. If you don't care for spectacle, though, I'd recommend a chamber-piece by Bergman.

- every plot point hinges on impossible circumstances/resolutions and ridiculous concepts

Actually, what the film mostly does is take grounded components and just tweak them a bit, for a dramatically-heightened quality. Is it possible to pull a print off a shattered bullet? Perhaps not now, but it seems like a near-future possibility, as does Operation Skyhook. Like any film, you establish early on the rules of your universe, whether it be hard-core reality or full-blown fantasy, and then you do your best to stick to them. Early on, Batman crushes a van with little or no damage to his legs; the real-world rules of physics do not necessarily apply. Take notice.

- the Joker is not as frightening a villian as Scarecrow (at least in these adaptations)

I don't find any villains in any of these sorts (crime thrillers) of films particularly "frightening", but I do find them compelling. Regardless, Scarecrow is all about horror-themed "fear", whereas The Joker is about widespread panic brought on by f'ing with people's heads...making them question the rules they live by.

"good points"

- art direction, set direction, and cinematography marvelous - use of natural/practical light

Indeed.

- Caine, Freeman, Oldman, Eckhart; cameos by Cillian Murphy, Anthony Michael Hall

Yes, let's gloss over all the good work done by these actors in one line, while breaking up redundant "negative" points into individual segments.

- stunts (though ridiculous) very well choreographed, too many improbable explosions though

Not to mention virtually invisible use of CGI, for the most part. As for explosions...I don't know, most films would've had that 18-wheeler explode after it flipped, but it didn't. The Joker had gangsters setting explosive devices (and gas cans) all over the place. What shouldn't have exploded?

And though I could pick out a few individual lines I'm not that keen on (no more than any other film), I thought the vast majority of the dialogue was very nicely written, and expertly delivered. Very few films don't have the characters express a bit more on the page then they necessarily need to; even the great No Country For Old Men gets a little more talky than I'd like in its second half. But, for me, the good greatly outweighs the not-so-good in that film, and it does with TDK as well.

Also, it should be noted that if someone thinks TDK is the best, or one of the best, of the year, it doesn't necessarily mean they think it's a "masterpiece" or whatnot. Then again, if "masterpiece" means a "perfect" film, then there's not a single "masterpiece" in existence, by my estimation. Just a lot of really good films with their own set of unique flaws.

The Dark Knight is a larger-than-life crime-based melodrama with just enough of an emotional foothold in "reality" to be very compelling to the vast majority of critics and moviegoers. Most of the characters are extrapolations of a variety of concerns we have in our culture. We take it "seriously" insofar as we're willing to go along for the emotional rollercoaster, as with any other film. It's the sort of film that, in the end, absolutely wears its heart on its sleeve, and rejects irony in favour of something more emotionally tangible; it's not intellectual posturing, it's full-blown emotionalism, unafraid to take chances, and in no way pretentious. We engage these exaggerated myths, and sometimes they confront the more subtle beats of our own lives, or the darker recesses of the soul, in unexpected ways. And if the film has a stronger emotional effect on the viewer than more naturalistic, earthbound fare, who is anyone to judge their reasons for considering it a more effective piece of art and/or entertainment?

And Kris, re: Spider-Man 2, it's as simple as this...it's a fun spectacle, and it certainly does engage some of the minor details of a young man's life...problem is, for a lot of people, the actual story content of the film closely resembles an after-school special. It's way too maudlin, EVERYTHING'S on the nose, and it focusses far too much attention on a relationship that doesn't generate any sparks for the vast majority of the film. We feel for Peter's loneliness (who wouldn't?), but the connection between them feels like an arbitrary story point...which wouldn't be such of a problem if it wasn't STARING US IN THE FACE most of the time (giant photos of Mary Jane, anyone?). I'd even go as far as to say that Maguire and Dunst generated better chemistry in the third installment, but they were let down by virtually everything else around them. Molina did about the best anyone could expect with middling material.

Finally, if you want to look up "dreary" in the dictionary, Dafoe's take on Green Goblin -- one of the most loud, obnoxious, one-note, pandering-to-the-masses villain in film history -- would probably have his own photo caption.

And I'll never understand the praise given Superman: The Movie. The origin story is adequately told, but once Ned Beatty arrives onscreen, it descends into mind-numbing, sub-sitcom stupidity for (most of) the remainder of the film. You'd think the Wayans brothers travelled back in time to contribute to the script.

Words of praise for SPIDER-MAN II...

Before seeing IRON MAN, I would have unapologetically cited Sam Raimi's sequel as the best superhero movie (even if it's not my favorite). Simply, a very good movie, no qualifications. Far superior to THE DARK KNIGHT. Without question. In every single way.

Yet, I didn't brandish it as the example of "serious" superhero-movie-making in my comparison with TDK. The point I was trying to make was that I think the film-makers took Iron Man seriously, while only someone who doesn't know what "serious" means would argue Nolan feels that way about Batman. Sure, Nolan takes his own genius VERY seriously, but if he took the concept seriously, he wouldn't feel the yearning to change every detail but the name. Jesus, he has sub-plots for the car and the costume! Explaining every little thing, as if your imagination wasn't up to the task. He thinks Batman is stupid, or we are, maybe both, but he's here to set us straight.

Spider-man, I assert is a different animal, altogether. You're not supposed to take Spider-man that seriously, once you've gotten past the power-responsibility thing. As much as anything else, Spider-man is about how cool it might be to be Spider-man, isn't it?

Movies - that was the topic. As highly as I regard SPIDER-MAN II, I tend to knock it down a peg or two, just on principle, for a few things. One, there's the constant pulling off of the mask. I get it - they paid Tobey money, and he wants his close-ups, but it tears me right out of the movie. Two, there's that weird scene where the train crowd passes him over their heads while he's unconscious in full-on Christ pose. Was that supposed to be homo-erotic or something? Just creepy. Three, Octopus' glowing glob of science-whatever threatening to suck the city into some kind of Marvel-stupid black hole. Yes, yes, this one is just me, picking on an established comic book trope. I just can't stand the glowing glob that Hollywood always uses as a visual cue for IMMINENT DOOM. It's a lazy cliche. In BATMAN BEGINS, Nolan substituted a clowd of "fear fog" for the glowing glob. The result was just as ugly and lazy.

Why can no one argue honestly about this movie? It's fascinating. Lawler says some ridiculous nonsense about Ledger doing a variation on Nicholson's Joker, then JC responds with opposite, equally non-sensical, nonsense. If we can't acknowledge the same objective reality, we can never really have meaningful debate.

"As for the voice itself, it's pretty much the first Batman I've seen who didn't give away his identity the moment he opened his mouth."

Kevin Conroy, aka the cartoon version, did it much, much better. But then he's a professional voice actor. But then- Bale is a professional actor, you would think he'd be capable of this. But it's possible the bad choice was by Nolan and not Bale. Anyone know?

"One scene (after the fund-raising event), as someone pointed out earlier, may have existed, and perhaps been excised because it wasn't working. Beyond that, I have no idea what you're talking about. As for supporting characters, I can't think of a single one (even the solid character actor in the cell with Joker), that doesn't serve an emotional and/or thematic purpose in the film."

For a film with so much fat in it, it's very odd that we leave the Joker holding a room hostage, and are pretty much told to imagine that this guy who randomly kills people all movie, just left peaceably as soon Batman leapt out the window. Another bad cut (no pun) is the shot of Joker killing the mob boss. Not seeing that shot makes nonsense of what would otherwise have been a very powerful moment. It distracts. As for superfluous characters, they tend to belong to superfluous subplots- so, the employee who finds out Batman's identity, and the Asian mob guy.

"They're integrated perfectly well into the fabric of the story"

The trip to Hong Kong is completely unnecessary and (I have to think) exists solely to be an action sequence. Another completely unnecessary (non-action-oriented) subplot is the employee finding out Batman's identity. One could also argue (going back to the last point) that Nolan, by making an entire scene of it, also makes the cop whose wife is in the hospital, and who Gordon has to talk out of shooting the guy, a supporting charactor/subplot, in which case each of those would be not just superfluous, but superfluous and existing only because an already superfluous character/subplot had been introduced. Which makes that cop and his scene record-breakingly unnecessary, and so far from the heart of the movie as to be silly.

JC: Action in service of a story is a quality I would praise routinely if I didn't feel that The Dark Knight and the many movies released this year were not simply making movies for the sheer, visceral (not to mention shallow) thrill they can bestow on the audience. The Matrix sequels come to mind - if a movie begins with an action sequence (and no explanation), we know the writers have no real story to cling to.

R-rated films (hard R) definitely do have a credibility sorely lacking in PG-13 films; considering the "dark" elements you speak of, you're either teasing or insulting the audience. I found the story muddled because I felt a disconnect between the audience and the characters - in that the characters were obviously being manipulated by "story elements", not a cohesive structure, but that montage feel I mentioned. Now that I think of it. The movie, with very few dialogue-pieces (scenes) was nothing but one long montage strung together. The music is key here - in the analysis. There's rarely a break in the combination of music and action set-pieces, like a music video.

Ultimate outcomes - indeed, Harvey Dent, but also Gordon, Dawes, actually just about every character already has a telegraphed beginning, middle, and end, plus they (literally) left the Joker hanging at the end. There was an imbalance from start to finish for me. We didn't get enough information before yet another rip-roaring action blast (again, like The Matrix sequels), lazy filmmaking, to say the least.

I can't believe we were watching the same movie. Run Burton's Batman again and look at Nicholson's performance, his voice, his body language. Ledger, a good, not great actor in his own right, did an impersonation of Jack Nicholson performing as the Joker.

Nolan's "understated" direction is not his style. Nolan's style (if you want to call it that) is to be economical. He has a story - number one, but he doesn't tend to go overboard in anything else. Look at Insomnia or The Prestige - this guy knows his way around a camera and an editing bay, but he seems to have unlearned that for The Dark Knight; he could compress things, make them more interesting by hint alone. Looking at the movie, I'm convinced it could have been cut down to 100 minutes.

The majority of these characters are caricatures, one-dimensional pulp characters. They saunter on to the screen and either 1.) get killed or 2.) die. Like I said, considering the subject matter, the movie definitely wants a R rating.

The characterization of the Joker was absurd. He didn't fall into a vat of chemicals, there was no origin (I'll admit, an interesting choice for Nolan to not have any origin stories, but for Bruce Wayne and perhaps Harvey Dent) so instead he talks about his abusive Dad - come on! There's no need for the clown makeup - he's just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill, boring-ass psychopath. He holds court with anyone in a room, he has some brilliant plans, and a few good one-liners, but otherwise, who gives a shit? Put a bullet in his brain! They had a million opportunities - it gets repetitive, really.

Incidentally, I name the good point of the supporting actors, because however marvelous their contributions to the movie were, they weren't enough to make me forget the bad points. Same goes for the technical nods. We knew the movie was going to look and sound fantastic (incidentally, Bale's Batman voice still sounds shitty on the DVD), so put all that aside and come up with a compelling story - spend more time on the Joker's motivation, spend more time on Bruce Wayne. This new series is already beginning to suffer.

In the next-go-round, let's get a decent story going (it's not going to happen ... the whole $500 million dollar justification for even more action, even more booming bass, even less-intelligible Batman dialogue). Like I said, I enjoyed the movie, but it was throwaway entertainment for me. I'll forget about it, and I don't like that.

The Dark Knight certainly is a lightning rod for debate. I liked it enough despite it's warts, which were fewer in my mind than Batman Begins. I'm a bit surprised at the Batman is a bad character comment, he can be a great character when done right. You just need to read The Dark Knight Returns, Batman Year One, Mad Love by Bruce Timm or watch the animated series by Bruce Timm and co.

Jim: I see what you mean now. The fact that TDK is simultaneously being hailed as a masterpiece, and is being talked about only in comparison to other superhero films, does seem odd.

As an aside: I recently rewatched Tim Burton's Batman and found it nearly unwatchable when Nicholson wasn't on screen (and even then, not all that much). I wasn't going to continue with them, but now I guess I will have to see Batman Returns, and try to keep an open mind.

Well, I stated earlier that Iron Man, uh... didn't live up to my expectations. And it was not realistic. Flying in a suit, OK. Flying at MACH 1, then stopping still... instant death.

Nobody has mentioned "Unbreakable", the one superhero movie that actually discusses the idea that comic books are the modern equivalent of myth-telling. And it was as close to "realistic" as a movie about an unbreakable man could be. (And as for the ending, it was logical, and not at all a surprise, to anyone who has ever read a comic book.) I am not saying it was Citizen Kane, but it was definitely better than Iron Man. IMHO.

With respect to video games... maybe they, and comic book superheoes as well, are being made into movies by people who have no respect for them. I would suggest that people make movies based on video games with no interest in anything but making money. (Maybe I am naive and this is true of all movies.) But I have never seen a movie based on a video game that was as good as the most recent trailer for "Gears of War 2".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FL_ZjJgbDmc

I have never played this game, and I don't intend to, but this effective little film has more characterization and more to say about the human condition than Max Payne and both Tomb Raider movies put together.

Jim, if you ever want to start reading comics, stay the hell away from superheroes. As a longtime fan of superhero comics, I will tell you that most of them suck. The vast majority of them are much more about satisfying longtime readers with bits of fanservice and inside jokes than they are about telling good stories.

Will Eisner's A Contract With God, or Art Spiegelman's MAUS are a good starting point for any post-pubescent human being who wants to read comics.

Watchmen is maybe the best superhero comic, and it works because it completely destroys superheroes. I don't understand why they want to spend millions of dollars making it into an all-out action extravaganza as a film. The book is about a fat, bald man who cannot get an erection without wearing spandex and a cape, a self-righteous sadist who uses the costume to justify serial homicide, and a fascist who wears a costume so he can shoot hippies in the name of the law. I will give you a dollar if a shred of that is left intact in the film.

JC,

Regarding Superman, again it comes down to suspension of disbelief. I agree wholeheartedly, the villaims are the weak point of Superman (as much as I love Hackman's Luthor, obnoxiously over the top as he is).

And again, my issue comes down to the writing -- Luthor is never really presented as capable of masterminding a legitimate threat against Superman. I mean, if Luthor is "the greatest criminal mind" wouldn't he be able to get better help than Otis? And isn't he supposed to be a billionaire too?

But in Superman's case, the strengths of the origin story on Krypton, the farm scenes of Clark's youth, the interaction between Jor El and Kal El in the fortress of solitude, Superman's first run of saving the day in Metropolis ... I'll ride with Luthor and Otis, even if they are radically out of place. And before too long, the rockets are away and Superman is faced with the moral dilemma of being able to stop only one (then faced again with the dilemma of breaking his father's ultimatum to not interfere.)

Logically, you can step back after the fact and say, "Well, if Superman can turn back time (with a ridiculously impossible method no less) why does he let anything bad happen at all?" But in the moment when he's flying through the clouds hearing Jor El's warning, it's an emotional impulse of saving Lois Lane. Logic be damned. If you're with Superman in that moment, you'll believe he can reverse Earth's spin without killing us all.

Superman certainly tempted me to disbelieve, but in the end it hit enough right notes that I wanted to see him fly.

There's no single formula that will make me want to believe or disbelieve a movie. It's really a case by case basis because each movie presents its own thesis so to speak, which is one reason why I've tried to avoid (serious) comparisons between Superman, Iron Man, Spidey 2, and The Dark Knight in this discussion.

James,

In addition to your points, I think it's also important to note many story driven games cannot be completed in one sitting which creates 2 problems with translating them to movies.

1.) A story driven game usually lasts 40+ and is usually less subtle than a movie because with a movie you only have to remember details for two or three hours tops.

With an RPG or graphical adventure game, it could be a few days, a few weeks, or months depending on how much you play and what you do (and in the case of a graphical adventure, you might've forgotten some plot point when you racked your brain trying to figure out how to open a lock with a wig and a floppy disk.)

Even the most subtle game story will be painfully overstated if you just condense it into 90 minutes. That's not necessarily a knock against video games, just one of the inherent differences in the mediums. A film screen writer will have to do a lot of retooling to make it work for a 90 minute film.

2.) There's more material than can fit into one movie, which tempts the screen writer to give a little bit of everything without really developing anything. I'm hard pressed to believe Chrono Trigger can work as a single movie because so much happens. Comic book adaptations often suffer the same fate. You can't honor the entire Spiderman universe with one film.

If someone wants to tackle Chrono Trigger or Suikoden 2 (with its 108 characters), they're going to have to be willing to make multiple movies or do a lot of cutting.

On that thought, why don't they make a live action mini-series or TV show off video games? That format seems more capable of handling the narrative of story-driven games than a feature length movie.

I'd like to second mostofusaredaves's suggestion above for a second look at Unbreakable, which is my personal favorite superhero film. Despite a few weak spots (the actor playing Willis' son is pretty awful), I think it functions both as a good superhero film and as a good meta-discussion about the implications of superhero logic in the real world.

Because that seems to be the sticking point for a lot of the discussions above: would this work in the real world? How much can we suspend our disbelief before we roll our eyes? Is there an internal logic that allows the film to survive its flirtation with unreality?

A lot of the movies we're discussing try to find a middle ground between superhero logic and "real world" concerns, whether it's through filming with an extra layer of grit, or attempting some level of complex human psychology ... in general trying to distance themselves from the colorful tights and simple good/evil dichotomies.

Unbreakable does the reverse: it wallows in the friction between the two worlds, and asks what happens when you force their marriage. The tragedy of the film [SPOILER] is that the superhero logic wins out, even if by the machinations of its villain. Thousands of innocent people were killed in order to fulfill strictly generic demands. That strikes me as a pretty audacious way to deconstruct the genre. That Willis functions as the audience's stand-in, discovering the rules of the game at the same time we do, allows this conceit to work in a credible way.

And for all the intense disagreement, one of the things I found most fascinating about TDK was, for all its supposedly superficial talk of good guys being just like the bad guys, its central logic is quite a bit more audacious: the Joker's function is to sever the moral relationship between cause and effect, which leads us into much more sophisticated territory than some of its detractors are willing to admit. (That's not to say their criticisms about the its sloppiness are indefensible - it's by no means a perfect film.)

It'll be interesting to see how Watchmen fares, but I'm not that optimistic: as Kris pointed out it's a very literary work in the sense that the medium itself is implicated. With respect to Synder, who can do a mean action sequence, he hasn't shown the kind of chops necessary for translating that kind of depth to film.

"Jim, if you ever want to start reading comics, stay the hell away from superheroes. As a longtime fan of superhero comics, I will tell you that most of them suck. The vast majority of them are much more about satisfying longtime readers with bits of fanservice and inside jokes than they are about telling good stories.

Will Eisner's A Contract With God, or Art Spiegelman's MAUS are a good starting point for any post-pubescent human being who wants to read comics.

Watchmen is maybe the best superhero comic, and it works because it completely destroys superheroes. I don't understand why they want to spend millions of dollars making it into an all-out action extravaganza as a film. The book is about a fat, bald man who cannot get an erection without wearing spandex and a cape, a self-righteous sadist who uses the costume to justify serial homicide, and a fascist who wears a costume so he can shoot hippies in the name of the law. I will give you a dollar if a shred of that is left intact in the film."

Sorry, have to call bullshit here. You seem like many comics fans, who are ashamed of being comics fans, rather than fans of, ya know, literature proper, and so do their damnedest to make these distinctions within comics, and to side with the 'mature' side.

But comics were never about that 'gritty', 'mature' side. That's not what's useful about comics, or unique. Whatever Time Magazine says, there were at least a thousand 20th century novels, real novels, better than Watchmen, and many novelists who, if they'd set their minds to it, could have done, albeit in a different format, all Moore did. But there are no novelists, and no novels, that can provide what Superman, Batman, the X-Men, and so on, provide.

Superheroes are comics. That's their medium. They're the only thing unique to the medium, that is, done better in comics than anywhere else, natural nowhere else but in comics. Comic fans who are ashamed of them ought to, I dunno, try real literature. Like Chris Claremont, Neil Gaiman, and Alan Moore all did, when they wrote actual, not particularly good, novels. (It should be noted, though, that Claremont, in fairness, always seemed content with superheroes, and really was a wonderful writer of superhero comics, unlike the other two).

What killed comics, which were for children and young adults, is this bunch of stunted fanboys, and comic auteurs. People who desperately wish they were other than they are, or had different tastes than they do.

I like what Brad says about the Joker's severing cause and effect in the film. I think the Joker does have some plans, which of course are executed much better than seems possible. (He also does have henchmen, although they come and go, so it's not quite a one-man show.) But the Joker basically comes on screen and argues that all bets are off, which makes the film a bit difficult to analyze. (Sorry for mixing metaphors--just got back from a Christmas party. There was alcohol.) I think it is a good movie but not a great one. Anyway, two points I'd like to respond to:

On Christian Bale's performance in the film, and the relative screen time of Batman and Bruce Wayne: A lot of people have commented on Christian Bale's performance, and how Bruce Wayne was totally eclipsed by Batman in the movie. Well, yes, that's the point--even before the Joker came on scene, Batman clearly had his hands so full that Bruce Wayne was being consumed by him, bit by bit. He's unable to reconcile his two halves, which is why both Batman and Bruce Wayne become more cartoonish--the masked vigilante without a sense of humour and the wisecracking drunken playboy who does nothing besides chase skirts have to deny each other. Both are an act. (Compare with Iron Man, as an aside: Tony Stark really is like that, and Iron Man is the same personality. Stark is a lot like Wayne in the superficial details, but he's not a Gloomy Gus, but is relatively content with his life.) It's all about the image. And the only two people who know both Bruce and Batman and know that they are the same both express concern at his inability to separate the two. ("Batman doesn't have limits." "But Bruce Wayne does.") Bruce wants to give up Batman, but part of the film's tragedy is that it's already too late, for him if no one else. With Rachel gone and the Wayne/Batman divide even further (Batman is utterly hated; Wayne still a local celebrity), things look to be getting worse for Our Hero.

Also, I don't see a problem with the film's presentation of the magical cell phone technology. Putting aside how believable this is as technology, the film's moral stance is hardly clear. Lucius Fox states that it's wrong, and then uses it; then he looks on with satisfaction as he sees the entire system destroyed as he walks out, but the voice-over at that same moment talks about people needing their faith renewed, even if it's not by the truth. I think Lucius speaks for the filmmakers when he says that the technology is wrong; but the voice-over suggests that the technology is not in fact being used "just once," as Lucius naively (and somewhat weakly) intones. Batman? He's not a "good guy". Gordon (a pragmatist) thinks he is, but we can know better.

I don't know that game-to-movie adaptations are ever going to be worth getting your hopes up for. As long as video game movies have a built in audience, there will never be an incentive for studios to go the extra mile and hire a writer who is willing to play the game as research.

Besides which, good games are games for a good reason. At their best, what a video game does is impossible for a movie to do (and vice versa), so the very concept of straight adaptation is ridiculous. I like the idea of "inspired by..." a lot better.

Kris: While I have little confidence that the Watchmen movie will be any good (the trailers, Zack Snyder's history, etc.), I don't think it's fair to dismiss a possible Gore Verbinski Bioshock movie as pointless if it doesn't tell the story as well as the game does. Adaptations can produce great, worthy films, even if they do not improve upon the source. Would you really argue that David Lean shouldn't have bothered making Great Expectations, or that Mike Nichols shouldn't have made Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, because those two work better as a novel and a stage play? Verbinski is not Nichols or Lean, certainly--and I haven't played Bioshock but I would be surprised if it's Dickens or Albee--but it's the same principle. It's probably impossible for someone to make a Watchmen or Bioshock movie that "improves" on the original while still telling the same story, but that doesn't mean it's a pointless endeavour--different aspects of the story and interpretations of the source can still be illuminated.

"Lawler says some ridiculous nonsense about Ledger doing a variation on Nicholson's Joker, then JC responds with opposite, equally non-sensical, nonsense."

Um, there is a scene in TDK where Heath Ledger's Kurt-Cobain-on-a-binge version of The Joker walks down a street summoning the approaching Batman with his arms open at his sides, and flicks his wrists in an EXACT imitation of Nicholson's similar scene in the Burton film. The only difference is Batman's conveyance - a "pod" in one (another affectation of Nolan's: never call a thing what it is), a jet in the other.

Nicholson in the art gallery or Ledger at the fundraising banquet - they both flirt with Batman's damsel in nearly the same way. (Except, Nicholson's performance shows comic flair.)

I'm not saying Ledger is copying Nicholson. But he displays more of an awareness of that performance than Nicholson does of Caesar Romero's. Just because you don't see - more likely, won't admit - the similarities, doesn't mean they aren't there.

I will agree, though, that JC's response was mostly nonsensical. Never more than when he insists THE DARK KNIGHT'S themes are:

"very compelling to the vast majority of critics and moviegoers."

The vast majority of critics also raved about Burton's movie, which, oh-by-the-way, when tickets are counted and grosses are adjusted for inflation, was seen by only slightly more people than TDK. As to a vast majority of moviegoers, even if only a third of the world's population has access to a cinema, the vast majority of them have never seen THE DARK KNIGHT. It's not like they couldn't if they chose to. No, what JC meant to say was "the vast majority of people who saw THE DARK KNIGHT," but even that can't be substantiated. I'd dare say, the vast majority of those people really don't care, one way or the other. They were entertained for three hours and have put it out of their mind.

There are only a couple dozen of us, after all, who continue to engage in this debate.

I watched TDK again tonight, focusing my attention on plot and dialogue a bit more. Rather than quoting specific comments above, I'll just offer up a few comments that hopefully, in some way, address them anyway...

-Dialogue: most of the dialogue in the first 4/5ths of the film that I would deem not entirely necessary (a line here or there) is typically delivered in a such a low-key, understated manner, that its inclusion really doesn't draw all that much attention to itself...it's negligible, either way. In the last section of the film, some of those types of lines are stated in a somewhat more aggressive manner, and thus draw more attention to themselves. Fortunately, in most cases, they're followed up by lines that are of a more elegantly stated nature, IMO.

- I can't believe I didn't notice, until now, that the Joker was riding in the BACK SEAT of the cop car (with his head sticking out of the window). I couldn't see inside the windshield, but it stands to reason that Lau (who he just sprung from the jail) was driving. And there were two cop cars behind him (swerving all over the road), suggesting a chase, though perhaps it was all a facade (seeing as he wasn't caught), with corrupt cops, or maybe even other criminals, following behind. Interesting, either way, and certainly open to interpretation.

- Speaking of Lau, to my eyes, the trip to Hong Kong was a crucial story point. It demonstrated just how far Batman was willing, and able, to go (around the world, indeed) to get the gangsters prosecuted, thus forcing them to enlist the Joker. It also allowed the film to further establish its own version of Gotham, which isn't hermetically sealed, as earlier live-action depictions (prior to Batman Begins) tended to be. Thus making Gotham feel a whole lot less like a glorified sound-stage.

- To me, the Wayne Enterprises employee is more of a common sense issue. If this guy's looking through various files at his company, eventually he's going to happen upon something of an incriminating nature about Wayne. Both he and Berg are a re-affirmation of one of the overriding themes of the film: the questionable lengths to which someone is willing to go to protect themselves and others, particularly given the tendency for such actions to backfire, only putting more people at risk. Personally, I feel it was a nice change of pace for the film to establish these random civilian types, rather than just having a bunch of cardboard cutouts populating the city. It also nicely foreshadows the events on the ferry.

"but the voice-over at that same moment talks about people needing their faith renewed, even if it's not by the truth."

Interesting...when I watched it earlier, I could've sworn that that line was placed over Alfred burning Rachel's letter to Bruce. But that bit in the montage preceded the Fox stuff, so either way, your theory is plausible.

- Re: Joker, obviously that wasn't a detailed breakdown of the character earlier, and I don't even know why I'd feel the need to defend Heath's take on the character, as even most non-fans of the film consider it to be quite impressive. The viewing tonight did nothing to diminish my opinion of the performance and, if anything, made me appreciate it even more. Give him the Oscar, already. :)

- Bale's Batman voice: I think he lays it on a little thick on a few occasions (probably not helped by him having to loop some of it on account of the noisy IMAX cameras), but generally, it feels organic to the character, to me, anyways...complete immersion. Towards the end of the film, we mustn't forget that his character's been stabbed repeatedly by Joker (through his armor, but still...) and later suffers a fall...so he's struggling a bit to talk, naturally. I've also always liked the suggestion (by a local Vancouver critic I read months ago) that he's sort of "at war with his own body"...nightly beatings can really take a toll on you. Nonetheless, I think he definitely holds his own against a more charismatic (as in every comic and animated version I've seen) villain. And I'm certainly a fan of Kevin Conroy's work on The Animated Series, but while I enjoyed his Batman, I actually found his Bruce Wayne to be rather blandly upbeat. To me, Bale's Wayne is thoughtfully restrained, but in no way "wooden" (I'd reserve that word for people like Keanu Reeves and doppelganger Chris Klein). And the Playboy Wayne facade is quite amusing. If Bale wasn't much of an actor, I don't think a director like Werner Herzog would be casting him as the lead in one of his films.

- I like Unbreakable, but it's one of those films -- like The Usual Suspects, for instance -- that's a bit too dependent on its twist ending for dramatic effect. However, The Usual Suspects had a reasonably charismatic ensemble, and was reasonably well-paced. Unbreakable moves like molasses. I've nothing against a slow build, or leisurely-paced films (I'm certainly down with Antonioni's work) but I don't know that Willis is a compelling enough actor to fully command my attention (I drift in-and-out) for the duration of a film of that nature. So, I admire aspects of the film (and perhaps think it's Shyamalan's best), but I don't feel all that compelled to revisit it.

Re: the Spider-Man series, quickly: I'm just not particularly engaged by any of the characters. Peter's kind of likeable, but rather bland (doesn't Spidey wisecrack a lot more in the comics?), and far too mopey/whiny (Bruce Wayne's "broody", which I'm fine with, obviously). I've never found Dunst to be all that compelling as an actress (or even remotely attractive, which undercuts her "dream girl" position considerably), and her character is placed in the scream-queen role far too often, which is just really irritating. Franco...if I'd only seen him in those three films, I would've assumed he was a terrible actor...as I HAVE actual seen his decent work in Freak & Geeks and Milk, I'd have to say he's just not convincing as a villain type, and Raimi giving him a one-note "I hate Spiderman" angle based on a stupid misunderstanding didn't help matters. Dafoe is just plain terrible as the villain in the first one...if that was an accurate portrayal of Green Goblin (and I sure hope it wasn't), then he's the most overrated villain in comic book history. Molina is significantly better in number two, but the writing doesn't often match his charm as an actor. Plus, making his character basically not responsible for his actions ("the computer chip in my tentacles made me do it!") isn't really dramatically interesting. Rosemarie Harris is lovely, and does the best anyone could expect with a series of maudlin, inspirational speeches. So, I enjoy the second film as spectacle (though it has major limitations, as I often don't feel the physical impact of the action, as it sometimes looks too much like a lightweight cartoon), but beyond that, moderately engaging at best. The first and third (which I don't really need to get into, do I?): rather weak. But, you know, different strokes and all.

The Nolan series of Batman films is filled with an impressive group of character actors (who very rarely overplay it), and they all made me believe, and care about, their universe. I could care less how close it is to the source material, as I could watch my Batman: The Animated Series DVDs any time I want for a more "traditional" take...there's plenty of room for both.

Jay, re: Superman

I don't hate the first two films, and I'm not even as hard on Superman Returns as some folks. But you know that saying about how these things are "only as good as their villains" (which I don't COMPLETELY agree with, but nonetheless): well, I hated Hackman's version of Luthor (even though I generally like him as an actor), thought Otis was just about the lamest attempt at comedic relief ever, and found the trio in #2 to be entirely one-dimensional (Terrence Stamp's popularity as Zod baffles me to no end...I felt he was phoning it in). Beyond that, I wish Reeve didn't play it so broadly as Clark, and, quite frankly, as a character, and despite Reeve's inherent likability, Superman, psychologically, just isn't very interesting...never has been. But I don't begrudge viewers their wish-fulfillment with the nifty powers...and it's good-natured and all, so, you know, whatever.

Anyways, as much as I enjoyed TDK and whatnot, I'm getting a little burned out on discussing it. Maybe we haven't gotten to the bottom of the film...maybe we have and we just don't know it yet. I've seen it a good number of times now, and though certainly not flawless, it remains as eminently watchable as pretty much anything I've seen in recent years (American, foreign, "art" or entertainment). Deep? Well, it's not necessarily designed to probe the depths of the human condition like a Bergman film might, but I think it's got enough of a curiosity about the modern cultural climate to more than serve the kind of story it's telling. Maybe it gets major award nominations, maybe it doesn't...it's not like it'll be a huge surprise either way. And Nolan will make his third Batty film three years from now, somewhat lighter in tone, with a more relaxed pace ("rebuilding" seems an ideal theme), less emotional intensity, and more warm and comforting for those who don't like those "sadistic, nihilistic" movies. And so it goes.

So, Jim, are we waiting a month until everyone's seen the Oscar hopefuls to start engaging in discussions about them (individually or together), or what? I mean, I realize that they might not generate as many comments as the commercial and critical juggernaut known as.....dammit, I forgot its name again. Regardless, that dishwasher scene in Rachel Getting Married was pretty neato, and can you BELIEVE Danny Boyle has now produced at least TWO FILMS that feature characters diving into a toilet? Of course, we could discuss Synecdoche, New York, which would invariably result in insanely long posts, if not a large number of them. You could literally write 20,000 words and only cover the plot of the first ten minutes. Oh, wait, Roger Ebert's already done a blog entry on that tedious and/or brilliant film. I don't know....maybe focusing on one film is the best way to avoid unnecessary (and borderline silly) comparisons between biopics about gay politicians and "epic fantasies" about Buttons who age backwards.

I know, I know, you've gotta find an angle first...Hmmmm...

Edited to add: You know, I was just finishing up this post and noticed Mike added some kind comments, in an (apparent) effort to prove that people like Burton's Batman better, or something. Then he brought up inflated box office, but where-oh-where was he getting his numbers from?

Certainly not here: http://www.boxofficemojo.com/alltime/adjusted.htm

...where The Dark Knight sits at 26th overall in adjusted domestic gross (~$531 million), and Burton's Batman at #48, with $445 million. The same site states that TDK has made $466 million overseas...now, if Batman89 (with $160 million) was adjusted for inflation, do you think it would reach that number? Doubtful, given that the domestic number was $251 million before inflation.

Regardless, I've never been much concerned with box-office numbers, though I do recall Batman89 getting some raves, as well as a significant number of pans. Most of the reviews, positive or negative, stated that the art direction was significantly more interesting than the story. Either way, I kind of like the Burton Batman films (mostly for their art direction and music, but whatever), so you'd be better off arguing with someone who thinks they're superficial crap. Might be more invigorating.

As for "the vast majority of moviegoers"...really, an argument over semantics? Really? Yeah, most of the people who saw it seemed to like it quite a bit. And it's selling extremely well on DVD, Blu-ray, and in Internet downloads. And yes, I'm well aware that no matter how popular something is, whether it be movies, television, or music, the majority of viewers either haven't seen it or aren't interested. Seinfeld, when it was the number-one, most-watched show on American television, was only watched by about one in five viewers. But that's certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

It's also wildly presumptive to suggest that because people aren't "debating" something on a message board, they didn't have a reasonably strong emotional response to a film. It posted strong numbers over multiple weekends on account of strong repeat business and word-of-mouth. This despite the fact that within 48 hours of the film's release, you could steal it online, for free.

Either way, were we actually in a discussion about Burton vs. Nolan? Not really, but you seem to want to go there.

Meh...

I think The Dark Knight is a great entertainment, but I agree with you that a lot of people seem to be getting defensive about it, as if by the fact that it has things which might be read politically in it (what movie doesn't?) it ought to be taken more seriously. I'm sure Chris Nolan intended it first and foremost as entertainment (I've read him saying as much) and that's the way I like it. If, to use Pauline Kael's categories, movies can be separated into trash and art, TDK definitely leans towards trash. Great trash.

I like William B's comment about adaptations. We should probably expect to be disappointed by them in which case we might not be. Which is why I hope to see a movie version of Jonathan Lethem's (sort of, in an Unbreakable kind of way) superhero novel, "The Fortress of Solitude". I'm sure it would pale, and many characters--plus historical and musical digressions (jazz)--would likely be jettisoned while the grafitti/early hip-hop part would be emphasised for the more mainstream youth culture. (Anyone know this book or am I talking to myself?) But I could still see it making a great flick. Like "The Road" which I *know* a lot of you have read. But expectations must be, if not lowered, than at least changed to suit the medium. William mentioned only a few, but a huge number of the greatest movies are adaptations of works whose most ardent fans at the time likely referred to them as abominations to the original. But of course there weren't blogs when, for instance, "The Maltese Falcon" hit the screen. I bet Hammetite's raked it over the coals in dim saloons everywhere, though.

Interesting that Mr Emerson chose not to post my (unflattering) comments regarding adult comic book fans, and the sort of stuff they favor. It also defended superhero comics as the only thing unique to the genre, and done better there than anyplace else, so, the medium's raison detre.

JE: Paul, I never saw your comments, so the fact that they haven't been posted is likely not that interesting. They probably got stuck in the spam filter 'cause you used some naughty (unflattering) words. I'll see if I can retrieve and post them.

Anyway.

This is a pointless debate. Even by the standards of movie debates (which are all pointless, at some point). Mike, above cites two NODS, two throwaway nods to a previous version of the character, as somehow evidence that Ledger was doing a variation on that performance. This is especially interesting when you consider those few, unimportant, superficial similarities were all likely scripted, or expressly directed. Ledger's performance was wholly original, Mike. That's just the way I see it. I'm sorry.

The end of Mike's post, as well as JC's entire post, makes it clear this is pathological with some people. What stake do either of you have in whether or not you're right, that you would go to such (embarrassing) lengths to maintain that you're right? Debate is a tool by which we arrive at truth, illumination, edification, all that kind of crap. It's not an end in itself. Winning a debate is not, or ought not to be, an end in itself. It ought to be incidental. In an intelligent debate all parties win, because all parties find out what was actually true. Usually, notably, the point being debated was actually intrinsically important, also, and not just some trivial thing each participant adopted a different view of, simply in order to, I dunno, make himself feel like he'd won, or sided with, SOMEthing in his miserable wreck of a life.

Which is only a long way of saying, when I argue with a friend of mine about the nature of the ideal relationship, or whether or not (and to what degree) the universe is deterministic, or, yes, even whether or not Fight Club was any good, I debate him because I want to find those things out. I don't think anyone discussing this (me included) has shown the slightest desire to actually learn anything, or teach anything, or help illuminate anything.

But it's your breath, spend it how you will.

I think this topic is somewhat related to the "Scary Parts" post, in that both are related to...relating.

Whether one relates to a clown fish panicked at the loss of his only son, or a cute little robot that finds love with a beautiful mysterious foreigner, or a superhero who stands outside society, I think movies are successful to the extent that they make us relate to their characters in some way.

We either think, "There, but for the grace of god, go I." Or inversely, "There, with the grace of god, might go I."

And I think that the reason the animated films and superhero films are working better than the live action films these days is because the creators of those films have to work harder to build that sense of identification. They pay more attention to it.

I mean seriously, how do average joes like us relate to a clown fish? Or a decripit robot wandering an even more decrepit city? Or a billionaire with so many issues he is driven to wander the city at night in a costume and fight crime?

You do it because the creators consciously build in elements of the character that you can relate to. Then they have to emphasize those elements to overcome the barrier to empathy that is so front-and-centre because we're not fish, robots or billionaires.

On video game adaptations...

It might help to shift our frame of reference a bit. We tend to talk about adapting video games to film as if we're translating from one medium to another, but the fact is video games are film, albeit longer and more interactive than most.

A comparable example might be the issues involved in taking an interactive novel (say, a Choose Your Own Adventure book on the "low" end, or Julio Cortazar's Hopscotch on the "high" end), and offering to make it a single, linear narrative. My first question would be why we'd bother.

I guess I feel that way about video games, too. I'm firmly on the side that video games can be art (and I think arguments to the contrary are short-sighted, given that art has a mischievous way of asserting itself wherever people say it can't be), but they're art crafted around the notion of multiple hours of individual (or group) interaction. The time issue alone is daunting - imagine if I tried to pitch a feature-film adaptation of the Dekalog as a 90 minute movie. You don't even have to make an essentialist argument about the nature of the medium in order to think that's a bad idea: you'd have to sacrifice an enormous amount of material, and what kind of gains can you possibly expect in the translation?

(Jim - apologies if this is a double-post - I got an error message the first time around)

Paul: I certainly won't argue that Alan Moore isn't pretentious, but it seems to me that Watchmen, a deconstruction of superhero archetypes, should naturally occur within the same medium as the superheroes. Certainly a novelist or filmmaker (or playwright, even) could tackle the material and make many of the same points, but Moore's work gains power from the familiarity of its medium (and from inside the same studio, no less). Anyway, a work that is critical of superhero stories does not necessarily disrespect them. I don't think I agree with Time's placing Watchmen in the top 100 either (though I like it a lot), but that doesn't mean that Watchmen and other comics structured more closely to novels than serials are necessarily the ruination. (I haven't read any Gaiman or Claremont, to be honest.) Interested in hearing your thoughts.

The reason people get defensive about comic book movies is because, unlike the horror and comedy genres, which are *inherent* to cinema, comic books are not a part of the same medium.

And as a medium they have been scrutinized by elitists and put down by parents since its inception as the "Ten-Cent Plague." The simple truth is that the uninitiated do not consider it a valid art form on its own (at least not without compromises); much less so as a film adaptation. If the source material is not to be taken seriously, then why should the final product?

Whose word would you take seriously in a discussion about art? The guy who reads comic books, or the guy to reads "literature?" Technically, they are one and the same, though they conjure different connotations...

Ah, in the art world, prudence always wins the day. In my experience, comics are as valid an art form as film. The best comics maintain superb pacing and tight scripting, all with subtle mise-en-scene within each panel. Not a single frame is wasted. The same cannot be said about film, even the best ones.

So what am I getting at? 'Art' does not need to be serious to be taken seriously. While The Dark Knight is not a perfect film, it is certainly art. You see, art never necessitates perfection no more than it necessitates a dead-serious attitude. I can recall Roger Ebert's 'Great Movies' review of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, in which he admits that his prudence prevented him from seeing how damn good the movie really was. It was silly, self-serious, and brooding, what with Van Cleef and the Man with No Name. Because of this, and because it was a spaghetti western, he allowed his prudence to denounce it as great. The very *nature* of what it was, and not the quality of its storytelling, is what disqualified it.

To denounce a movie for what it intends to be is not criticism. It's bias and prudence.

As for the criticism that Batman isn't realistic because he never overcomes the death of his parents and thus is a poor excuse to fight crime, well, that's not entirely true. I can set up a hypothetical scenario like this:

A man's eight-year-old daughter dies from AIDS. He dedicates the next decades of his life "crusading" against AIDS and raising millions of dollars around the globe to fund research.

Not only is this scenario realistic, but also emotionally probable. What to say about that man? "Get over your daughter's death!" "Have another kid!" "Stop fighting AIDS you emo!" "You suck!"

Paul:

"Interesting that Mr Emerson chose not to post my (unflattering) comments regarding adult comic book fans"

Just for the record, I don't read comic books. Nonetheless, I'm somewhat interested in the iconography of some of them (particularly those that have remained a fixture in popular culture for many decades), and how they're represented in the film medium. Whether I enjoy a film or not (or a TV series, in the case of Batman: The Animated Series, which I mentioned earlier) simply comes down to how strongly I responded to the characters, story, and style of presentation, as with any other film, in any other genre.

Moving on, yeah, these things do have a tendency to devolve into pissing contents, and I don't like it either. But...up until the "edited to add" portion of my previous post, the intent of the post was merely to offer updated comments on what I had just watched. It wasn't an effort to prove anyone else "wrong", only to convey how I felt about individual elements. Further comments about the Spider-Man and Superman series: just offering my own personal feelings, as you offered with your earlier comments about TDK. Sometimes we like to think we can step back and be "objective" about these things, but your claim that, for instance, the trip to Hong Kong in the film is "superfluous" is no more "objective" than my belief that it isn't. It's all down to what we personally believe serves the story.

I also think the purpose of this blog entry is rather vague. When you offer up a heading like "Superheroes. Seriously." with yet another promotional pic for TDK, though the intent of the entry may to illicit thoughtful discussion (about comic book films' place in the artistic hierarchy of filmmaking?), the more likely result will be for it to draw out those who feel this "non-traditional" (and that's subjective, of course, though I feel many would certainly agree) take on the material is "overrated", "crap", whatever.

Personally, as noted earlier, I'd prefer to move on to discussing some of the other highly praised films of the year, in whatever context Jim sees fit. Comic-book related material...it just gets heated too quickly, with the original intent (?) of the blog entry getting lost or, at the very least, wildly misdirected.

You'll notice, despite the fact that you referred to my comments as "nonsense" and also made some reference to someone's "miserable wreck of a life", I never, at any point, got personal with you. Nor do I intend to.

Have a nice holiday. :)

JE: Found your previous comment in spam filter. Don't know why. It's here:
http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/2008/12/superheroes_seriously.html#comment-579369

OK, for some reason my subsequent comments (a response for my initial post) were not posted, but I'll refrain from repeating, except to say that there is a key, crucial moment in The Dark Knight that could have set the tone for the rest of the movie - Lt. Gordon visits Harvey Dent in the hospital. The scene is one of passion, violence, and intensity; absolutely devastating and original. For a moment, I felt like I wasn't watching a Batman movie, but something completely unique. It was better than all the effects, all the stunts, all the explosions, all the chases. It was pure drama and much more satisfying than anything else in the world. Batman is drama and duality, not chases and explosions. The movie needed more scenes like that.

Eckhart and Oldman so completely inhabit their roles, and it is unfortunate they were shoved to the sideline to make room for Ledger's one-note, incomplete performance.

Wow. I am truly amazed at how many people take The Dark Knight and break it all down, and talk about its realism etc etc. Why not enjoy the movie! The reason The Dark Knight is a masterpiece and that "everyone" thinks it is, is because it is pure cinema. It dazzles the eye with amazing performances, incredible action, and an engaging story. Tons and tons of people went to see it because of that, and it delivered exactly what a summer blockbuster should be. Why can't a superhero movie be a masterpiece. No genre should be seperated from each other. A movie is a movie. There is no difference from The Godfather and The Dark Knight. One could be better, yes...I am sick of everyone thinking that this movie shouldn't get Best Picture. The best movies, are the movies that are pure cinema. Thats the reason we go to the movies, and The Dark Knight is pure cinema.

The now-blatant schism between the advocates of "superhero movies" and the dissenters of the aforesaid only further illustrates the dichotomy differentiating contrastive approaches to art:

There are those who view art and dissect it using antiquated aesthetic conclusions as their scalpel. In the ever-evolving world of art, they are a static judge; they attempt to hide their bias behind quasi-sonorous dissertations and pseudo-intellectual pontifications, but their ignorance shows--their lexical palisade betrays them.

And then there are those who dissect art with the intellectual's only worthy instrument: curiosity. They ask, "What is this; why is this as it is; and what has this effected?" Art is ever-evolving, and they evolve in tandem.

Art must never be rejected; individual examples may be found wanting, but the form cannot be blamed--the paper cannot be blamed for the transgressions of the pencil. The odium opposing any new art only serves to illuminate the island of the compromised critic.

Peter,

I would say dressing up in a cape and "fighting crime" by breaking the law by taking it into your own hands is very different from a father whose child dies from AIDS dedicating himself to the cause. One of these things is actually done by people everyday and the other is something that inherently does not make sense. I wouldn't bat an eye at the notion that someone who loses a loved one to crime would become, say, a cop or a prosecuting attorney. The justification here that most fans of the genre would claim is that Batman has to work outside the system in order to serve true justice. These people obviously have little to no idea what its like to actually be a police officer. Say what you will about the jerk who gives out unfair speeding tickets but that is indeed fighting crime, that is the best efforts we can put forth to combat "evil". They do put themselves at risk everyday to ensure that the law is upheld, not some lofty ideal of justice as Batman prides himself on, but the law, trying to prevent one person from injuring or stealing from or otherwise infringe upon a persons basic rights, something Batman does all over the place. I envison Batman as being like a gun nut holed up in a cabin somewhere and dreaming of the glory to be had when he exacts vengenance on those he deems as 'evil'. Simple fact is that superheros do not exist in the real world. There are a great many people who dedicate themselves to trying to better the living circumstances of others but this is something thats done in a lab, or a courtroom, and occasionally in the Senate, but not on the streets in a halloween costume. That's why I don't get fans who want realism in their superheros. Its putrid. Superheros are larger than life, who wants life intruding on that kind of magic. Its like a kid who thinks, "If I learn karate then no one can mess with me and I'll get the respect I deserve" when really he should be working on his social skills or getting out to meet new people. Instead he becomes like our good friend the gun nut, holed up somewhere, suspicious of everyone and everything and vehemntly hateful of those deemed "other". I think I just talked myself out of liking Batman...new favorite superhero: Plastic Man! Now HE'S a hero I can get behind!

In response to jk's "I envison Batman as being like a gun nut holed up in a cabin somewhere and dreaming of the glory to be had when he exacts vengenance on those he deems as 'evil'."...

I think that's the point about Batman. Superman and other superheroes as well, but Batman in particular. Power corrupts...but not in his case. Particularly for Batman, who comes closest to being corrupted of all the major superheroes, but he isn't. He never allows himself to fall into the trap of serving his own self-interest, or of lashing out at others senselessly. And I think that's the allure of the superhero - that they're incorruptible.

But don't let me psychoanalyze too much :)

I would say that people hold different opinions about how to define reality when it comes to a comic book film. Some people think that reality doesn't have to be 100%. I can see that, but no film is ever 100% real. The issue I have is this: at the time that Batman Begins was about to open, I had read an interview with Chris Nolan where he stated that he wanted to bring the Batman character into the real world. When I saw Batman Begins, I felt that Nolan had succeeded in creating a more down-to-earth Batman than any interpretation I had seen. I felt it was a great origin story.

When I first saw TDK I, like most people, believed Nolan had outdone himself with a deft, well-paced film. I thought Ledger's performance of the Joker was the most credible I had seen. All these months later, however, while I'm watching TDK again on DVD, I was seeing it with different eyes. Ledger's performance notwithstanding, I feel that TDK doesn't deserve any of the accolades that film critics (and the public) have heaped on it. It doesn't deserve to be compared to The Godfather or Heat. I'm still trying to figure out just what film critics saw in TDK that they felt was comparable to these films, which are far superior. Is it because Batman is dealing with the Mob that film critics decided to take this one aspect and make the film equivalent to The Godfather? The only similarity between Heat and TDK is the bank heist. I now feel that Nolan lost focus on his initial intention. Unlike the first film, which was more character driven, the Joker isn't really a character but more like a plot device. I also felt that Nolan's characterization of the Mob in both films was way off especially if his plan was to make a credible story. How does one man (Batman) declare war on organized crime with the help of only one good cop? How does another man (the Joker) accomplish the lofty goal of robbing five of the Mob's banks and live to tell about it when the Mob would have been on alert at their other banks after the first was robbed? Now there's even Oscar talk? That's just overkill.

TDK could have been a far better film if Nolan kept his focus. Nolan reinvented Batman but not the Joker. The Joker character would have been just as effective if portrayed as authoritative, driven, and shrewd, not a psychopath. A man who is menacing but not psychotic. A man who is somewhat refined but also has a ruthless streak, so when it comes to killing people he will always have someone else do it. Looking back at Batman Begins, Nolan completely wasted Rutger Hauer's character. I think the name of the character Hauer played was Mr. Earle or something. I think this character should have been established as the Joker in TDK and Hauer brought back to play him. This keeps the continuity going, and I think Hauer is great at playing villains. When I think about it, it would have been awesome to see Hauer play the Joker. Even though he didn't have a lot of scenes in Batman Begins, you can tell that Earle (Hauer) and Bruce aren't friends. When Bruce Wayne returns to Wayne Enterprises after so many years when everyone thought he was dead, Earle was surprised to see him but indifferent.

Hauer's character (Earle) worked at Wayne Enterprises and took over after the death of Bruce's father, and when it was believed Bruce was dead. Near the end of the film, Bruce fires Earle after Earle fired Lucius (Morgan Freeman) and brought Lucius back. Bruce and Lucius kept Earle (Hauer) out of the loop of what they were doing in the technology department (Batman's vehicle and gadgets). At least now, you would see the origin of the Joker. The Joker's creation (though a delayed creation) would come from the same circumstance that created Batman (there would be no need for the "you complete me" scene). Earler (Hauer) would be bitter that Bruce kicked him to the curb and feel that he was treated like a joker (wink, wink). In TDK Earle (Hauer) should have been shown making an alliance with the Mob boss (which I feel is more believable than the Joker bullying the Mob), and negotiating getting the Mob to use the Reese Coleman character (who worked for Bruce in the tech. dept. and figures out that Bruce is Batman) as an informant because he's suspicious that Bruce is protecting something major. There are some other things I can think of that could have been done with this story, but I've written enough as it is. Anyway, it would have been interesting to see what direction this premise went. Nolan completely missed something that was right in front of him. What happened?

TDKIO, I've seen TDK once, in the theatre. I saw and loved Batman Begins, and like Jim I find myself somewhat disappointed with TDK. I think it's a good film; I think Nolan and Ledger constructed one of the most effective film villains ever.

But...and here's where I think Jim was going, without stating it. The problem is that each movie has to "top" what has gone before. And so after "Batman Begins" creates Batman, and disposes of those who helped Bruce Wayne create Batman; then the threat has to be ratcheted up, the more levels the better. The result is a Joker so apocalyptic he brings the entire city to a halt.

But (and here's where I have issues with TDK), it's too much. There's so much going on in the film that important moments flash by on the screen in seconds. Character notes are set up and paid off in the space of a few minutes. The pace is relentless.

And finally, there's news that Nolan may not do a third Batman film; after all, how can he top Heath Ledger's Joker? With whom? Penguin? The Riddler? Catwoman? Poison Ivy? Please. Bring back Joker? And who's going to play him? Who wants to try to "top" Ledger's last full performance?

We see this need to "top" in other superhero movies. Spider-Man 3 was overwrought, trying to top Spider-Man 2. X-Men 3...haven't seen it, so I can't say, but all I've heard suggests it didn't work as well as X-Men 1 or 2.

Kris.

I would say that Super Metroid has more than just a premise. I'm not going to elaborate much because it is only a video game (though an absolute classic, and the best one i've played), but while it's story is decidedly minimalistic, it is handled with evident passion for detail and a keen interest with discovering what can be done in its medium. It takes a lot of that from Ridley Scott's Alien, but it also builds from its own and like Scott's film has a smart way of letting the background and subtlieties tell the story. This can also be attributed to its Japanese origins, which is an entirely different way of storytelling, more subtle, introspective and symbolic. Consider the curious way in which the last two bosses lairs only very gradually come to resemble hell and a giant computer, respectively.

Ok i said i wasn't going to elaborate but here goes:
-In fighting the dragon Ridley (chuckle), Samus (the heroine) goes to hell to beat the devil and save a baby, only to find it has dissapeared.

-In fighting the Mother Brain, Samus almost finds death at the hands of a giant lifeless computer and is ultimately saved by a very green, very living, very childlike... thing.

Like i said, perhaps it's nothing to take seriously.
But how very japanese, isn't it?