That’s probably the most fascinating aspect of the trilogy to me, as a lifelong comics fan: the finality of the three movies as one complete story, which is diametrically opposite to the structural approach of the source material. Comic book series (still! after like 75 years!) aim to chronicle never-ending battles for truth and justice, which on the one hand is purely driven by economics, because if a publisher can provide stories month after month which are new yet familiar, they can create eternal fans and unending revenue streams all in one (in theory). But on the other hand, there’s a meta-logic at play that acknowledges the struggle against chaos in this world is by necessity never-ending. Even the previous set of Burton/Schumacher Bat-films seemed to follow the same model, willing to continue churning through the rogues’ gallery and adding Bat-allies indefinitely; the fact that the franchise ran itself into the ground after four installments was unsurprising, but not done by deliberate design. Nolan, on the other hand, clearly set out to tell a finite story, one not beholden to maintaining the status quo of the familiar elements which could be endlessly recycled in story arc after story arc. I’m sure for a lot of Batman fans this was hard to swallow, because Batman (like any comicbook superhero) simply does not end, and to suggest otherwise is a kind of heresy.
And, on a deeper level, it’s not just that Nolan’s tripartite story runs a course and reaches a finish line, which in and of itself could be understood or excused as responding to the narrative (and economic) demands of a different medium. There’s also an element of inherent criticism that runs throughout the Nolan films, most forcefully in The Dark Knight Rises, which suggests on some level that the very idea of Batman does not and cannot work in any sustainable way. Even for an obscenely wealthy and insanely motivated man with the best possible genetic and social advantages, living the life of an avenging figure of the night will sooner or later lead to crippling injury or financial ruin or maddening isolation. In the comics, Batman wins more often than he loses, with those infrequent losses occurring either to vary the narrative beats or simply to set up a future triumph as all the more satisfying. In Nolan’s universe, most victories are pyrrhic and setbacks are all too common, and the continuing adventures must end eventually, and in one of only two ways: surrender or death.
From that perspective, the ending of The Dark Knight Rises (spoilerz!!!) might seem like something of a cop-out, as Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle get at least a chance at a redemptive happy ending. But I think there’s more to it than that, because I don’t think that Nolan spent all that time and money to make three visually dazzling, labyrinthine-plotted movies all in order to express “superheroes are stupid and in the real world they would all either quit or get killed”. Bruce Wayne does not, in fact, quit; he acknowledges that he can’t change the world alone. In a sense, that was already laid out in the second film: Batman catches the Joker, but the Joker’s master plan to blow up the ferries is already in motion and there’s nothing Batman can do to stop it. But Batman isn’t in the fight alone, because the citizens (and felons) of Gotham City have the power to thwart the Joker by doing the right thing, and they do. By the end of the third film, Bruce Wayne has realized that he’s made some positive impact on his city, but it does not have to rest on him alone to continue fighting the good fight. It’s almost, but not quite, a revelation too late. He’s past the point where he can team up with anyone, because he’s past the point where he can soldier on at all. But he can pass the torch, and he does. I think it’s telling that he not only delivers the location of the Batcave to Blake, but that he also repairs the Bat-signal for Gordon. He’s not asking Blake to pick up the mantle, he’s not really giving him a choice at all, because sooner or later Gordon will put out the call, and Batman will have to answer.
All the while as Bruce Wayne is working his way towards this epiphany, the recurring theme in just about everyone else’s storyline, on both sides of the good-vs-evil split, is loyalty: Alfred’s loyalty to the Wayne family, Gordon’s loyalty to the memory of Harvey Dent, Blake’s loyalty to the priest who runs St. Swithin’s, Foley’s loyalty to the police department; the henchmen’s loyalty to Bane, Bane’s loyalty to Talia as well as hers to him and both of theirs to the memory and ideals of Ra’s al-Ghul. It’s a compelling contrast against Bruce Wayne, who as Batman is loyal to no one except himself. The real struggle is for Bruce to get past that notion of radical unilateral individualism, and once he does, that’s the end of the story. I’d also like to believe that, by placing so much emphasis on loyalty, Nolan is extending a sort of olive branch to the diehard fanboys who have been collecting Detective Comics for twenty or thirty years. He may have reinvented the Batman mythos and made it teleological, but he’s not trashing the virtues of keeping the faith.
Well, I haven’t done this since Cabin in the Woods, but it looks like I’m going to have to split up the full dissection of a movie into multiple posts, since I’ve already blathered for over a thousand words and there’s more I want to get into. Check this space same time next week for the continuation!
No comments:
Post a Comment