The Batman

 

While technically a superhero movie, Matt Reeves' 2022 epic, The Batman, leans very much into the horror genre. Super rainy, grandly Gothic and dark, it's like the bastard child of James Whale and David Fincher, with a strain of Faulkner lurking in its DNA. At the same time, it's also a neo-noir pitting a singular, cynical detective--in this case Batman--against a host of felonious fiends and not-so-civic-minded leaders. Sound familiar? Drop a terrifying, unknown serial killer into the mix and Batman--deemed a vigilante by the police department--is up to his bat ears in dead-ends, dead bodies and taunting clues designed to provoke and torment our hero. (I'm not using the word "superhero" because I'm just not.)

Essentially humorless, this Batman--aka Bruce Wayne--leads a hermetic existence in a gloomy penthouse with soaring, arched ceilings, high above crime-ridden Gotham City. This is a Gotham where the sun never shines and honest folk don't dawdle in the shadows--someone with a grudge and a gat will invariably be there waiting. Attended to by loyal butler, Alfred, and elderly housekeeper, Dory, Bruce Wayne keeps his own counsel, avoiding public contact whenever he's not hopping into the Batmobile to go kick some villainous ass. His retreat is hidden in an abandoned subway tunnel deep beneath the Wayne Building, a decaying, mostly empty tower built long ago by Bruce's murdered father. Here, Bruce assumes The Batman persona--his costume, smart contacts, hyper- car and motorcycle, weaponry and retro (but nicely functioning) computer gadgetry are all stashed in this lair. Alfred, the only other person familiar with this subterranean atelier occasionally wanders down to offer sage advice to his hard-boiled employer, a lone wolf who most often does his own thing. 

Still plagued by memories of his slain parents, Bruce has unresolved anger issues and a mighty thirst for vengeance that resurface whenever he sees the bat signal reflected against the moon in the night sky. The generator of this image--good cop, Lieutenant Gordon--uses this method to let Batman know there's trouble afoot. Which keeps Batman on his toes because Gotham is a cesspool of vice and corruption.

When the city's mayor is viciously murdered by a masked, goggled sadist wielding a carpetry tool, Batman is once again called into action. Soon he discovers that clues left behind by the killer--riddles, essentially--are specifically targeted at him. More ghastly murders follow with attending riddles leading Batman on a merry chase through the criminal underworld and hostile police headquarters--and the secret cabal of politicos who have grifted with impunity for decades. Along the way he encounters the scarred and slimy Penguin and has a meet-ugly with Catwoman who, in the guise of Selina Kyle, hustles tables at the Penguin's Iceberg Lounge. That is, when she's not cat-burgling diamonds and cash from the safes of Gotham's citizens who actually have safes. 

A relationship of sorts develops between these two after Selina's roommate and fellow waitress disappears, and she reluctantly asks Batman for help. But they're much too busy for any hanky-panky, and they both have multiple fish to fry--until it appears that all the situations they're investigating might be linked. There's a combustible car chase, daredevil bike maneuvers, extensive shooting, head banging and diving off skyscrapers, as well as an explosive scene following a memorial service at city hall. 

Sure enough, there's a method to the serial killer's madness, and it loosely aligns with Bruce Wayne's own impulses. In fact, this may be the whole point. Maybe this killer--now known as The Riddler--wants Batman on his trail. However, since there are multiple maniacs on the loose, it takes awhile to wrap things up, and that's only after several fake-out endings that stretched this movie out way longer than it needs to be (5 minutes shy of 3 hours)! 

Despite The Batman's needlessly protracted running time, I kind of liked it. I grew up watching Batman on ABC. Adam West and Burt Ward starred as dynamic duo Batman and Robin, and with special guest villains played by Julie Newmar, Frank Gorshin, Cesar Romero and Burgess Meredith--not to mention Ward's provocative hot pants--the show was an absolute camp-fest (which you can stream for free on Tubi). Later movie iterations of Batman include Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney (huh?), Christian Bale and Ben Affleck, all of whom provided their own unique take on the Caped Crusader. (The character of Robin has been largely discarded by 21st Century film directors so don't expect the homoerotic kick of Joel Schumaker's efforts ). 

In The Batman, Robert Pattinson, an extremely versatile, in-demand actor, making his debut as Bruce Wayne and his alter ego, is an entirely different Batman than I've seen before. Sure, Christian Bale was consistently verklempt during his tenure as Batman, but Pattinson, with his pale, wan features haunted by loss and driven by revenge, is more interesting: he's both vulnerable and invulnerable, a combination of American hero and the Terminator. The soft-spoken Pattinson's greatest strengths lie in his physicality: his posture and manner convey every pent-up emotion he's feeling (and unleashing). Laser-focused in his pursuit of justice for his parents, his city and his own broken life, this Batman doesn't even pause after a tense car chase between Penguin and himself results in dozens of fiery crashes that are unquestionably fatal for most of the drivers. His lack of empathy is alarming, although by the end of the movie, he's somewhat redeemed by his better nature. A long way from his Twilight days, Robert Pattinson is quickly becoming one of my favorite actors. 

Being a man of a certain age, my thoughts always go to Julie Newmar when I think of Catwoman but if Newmar is the Queen of Catwomen, Zoe Kravitz is first runner-up. Scheming, agile and fast on her feet, Kravitz brings sobriety to a role that has traditionally been played for its kitschy appeal. Kravitz's Catwoman doesn't meow playfully or engage in flirtatious wordplay; she's a tough kitty with claws and a bad attitude, a knockout who will--literally--knock you out if you cross her. She and Pattinson make a great team and have just the right amount of friction going on to ignite the sparks of a (possibly) romantic relationship in the future. That is, if he's able to find her. 

I've been a fan of Jeffrey Wright ever since I saw him 100 or so years ago in Julian Schnabel's art bio Basquiat. As Lieutenant (later to be Commissioner) Gordon, he's world-weary and steadfast, the perfect covert operator in cahoots with the mysterious, much-despised Batman. Handsome Irish actor Colin Farrell has been completely unlooksmaxxed for his role as the Penguin. Scarred, scowling and pudgy, this Penguin looks like he ate a bag of Cheetos before climbing aboard the Coney Island Cyclone. Farrell is unrecognizable and does an excellent job playing this nasty piece of work (who is maybe not as nasty--on the outside anyway--as Danny de Vito's Penguin in Batman Returns). Even more abominable is John Turturro's scuzzball kingpin Carmine Falcone, who, while he looks relatively normal (in a pimp sort of way), is the most black-hearted character in the film, if not the entire franchise(s). Turturro is such a great, multifaceted actor that he completely inhabits every role he plays (watch Miller's Crossing, The Big Lebowski, the TV show Severance, or the recently released The Only Living Pickpocket in New York to get a glimpse of his immense talent). 

I can't even remember the last time I saw Paul Dano, but it may have been in the 2007 film There Will Be Blood. Suffice it to say, he's changed a little since then (and fuck Tarantino for saying so in his mean-spirited tirade). As the uber-creepy Riddler, Dano takes the character and runs with it to a very dark place that previous Riddlers--Frank Gorshen and Jim Carrey--wouldn't have dreamed of going. To his credit, Dano doesn't even try to humanize the monster, even as he bleats "perfectly logical" excuses for his heinous behavior. 

When he is shut up in the psychiatric ward at the end of the film (or one of the ends, anyway), an unseen inmate in the adjacent cell gleefully hints at even darker days ahead as he consoles the distraught Riddler. Those with even a passing knowledge of Batman lore will pretty quickly deduce that Riddler's neighbor is none other than The Joker. What we don't immediately realize is that it's Barry Keoghan (The Banshees of Inisherin, Saltburn) voicing the role. 

Andy Serkis, an actor with dozens of movie credits, feels right as the highly engaged, slightly younger than usual, Alfred. There's strength in his performance that brings Alfred's relationship with Bruce Wayne closer to one of equals rather than master and manservant.  

Matt Reeves creator of TV's Felicity, director of Cloverfield and the Planet of the Apes movies of the 2010's, is so good at elevating films above a single genre by developing characters with psychological depth and mixed motivations that require more than one reading. The Batman is the Happy Family meal of DC Comics movies: it's cryptic, densely plotted, angsty, and action-packed. It also made nearly $780m at the box office against a $200m budget. The sequel comes out in February of 2028.