I love Batman, and I loved The Batman.
Matt Reeves and Robert Pattinson set themselves apart from Batmans past with a spookier detective noir thriller.
The Short Take:
The Batman is the best Batman film we could have gotten post-Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight. Matt Reeves wisely goes in a different direction, with a lower-tech detective noir Batman and an anti-playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. Fans of serial killer mysteries like David Fincher’s Se7en will certainly enjoy. Sublime cinematography and score.
Image Credit: The Times
The Long Take:
Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight (2008), with a character-defining, Oscar-winning performance by Heath Ledger as the Joker, will forever be the gold standard of Batman live action films by which critics and fans alike will inevitably judge new ones. This is acutely the case for Matt Reeves’ The Batman, which is the first standalone Batman-centric film since Nolan concluded his trilogy with Christian Bale in 2012. Do I think The Batman is better than The Dark Knight? No. But it comes closer than I ever thought it would, and I did like it better than The Dark Knight Rises and perhaps even Batman Begins.
Reeves caters to the kind of Batman fan I am, though. I’m happiest when Batman is a hard-boiled detective, solving mysteries. When he’s a brooding, tortured soul obsessed with his vigilantism. I want Gotham to be a character unto itself, fully realized as a living, many-tendril-ed monster, full of corruption, intrigue, and psychosis. The spookier the better. The Batman more than delivers on all these fronts.
If you’re not a die-hard Batman fan and are still on the fence about whether or not to go see this, I’ll note here that the majority of critics I follow say that The Batman has more in common with David Fincher’s serial killer films, Se7en (1995) and Zodiac (2007), than with more conventional superhero movies (which I suspect is just code for Marvel movies now?). I independently came to this conclusion walking out of the theater, not having read any reviews. I see this as a plus because I enjoy watching the cat and mouse game between serial killer and detective, with cryptic puzzles and disturbing clues. Crime scene photos flashing. Threatening messages scrawled on victims and walls. But I acknowledge that might not be what everyone’s looking for in a Batman movie.
A serial killer mystery thriller or neo-noir is decidedly not Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy. Perhaps in anticipation of a direct comparison, Reeves smartly zags away from Nolan in a few key ways. Yes, both their Gothams are on the darker and grittier side. On a spectrum with the campy Adam West television series on the opposite end, Reeves and Nolan are relatively close together. But Reeves makes his Batman much more street-level and low-tech. There was no way he was going to be able to compete with the military-grade Tumbler Batmobile and all of impressive technology provided by Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox. So he goes basic. The most advanced gadget this Batman uses is a pair of video-recording contact lenses. He uses an inkjet printer in the Bat Cave to look at clues. In combat, he relies on small grappling hooks with an occasional Batarang. His Batmobile is a vintage muscle car, not beeping and booping with computerized bells and whistles — just roaring with toxic exhaust.
Similarly, Reeves does not cast a Bruce Wayne who might directly compete with the suave, 007-esque playboy Bruce Waynes of the recent past. So much so that it took me a little while to get used to Robert Pattinson as Bruce Wayne. He’s not slick or charming at all. He has bad posture. His hair hangs down over his eyes. He seems to have no social skills and resents his public alter ego. Pattison plays Bruce Wayne as psychologically damaged incredibly well. We, thankfully, don’t need to witness Martha and Thomas Wayne dying for the umpteenth time because the pain and trauma of that formative event is all over his face. It’s even all over his sinewy, scarred body, which the camera makes a point to show hunched over multiple times.
Image Credit: People
While his Bruce Wayne took some time to get used to, I immediately loved Robert Pattinson as Batman. Seething with rage, just on the edge of losing control. With the help of a cowl that exposes the entire bottom half of his face, I found his hexagonal jawline visually striking and in-character. In every scene he looms and lurks, projecting a larger than life aura. The Next Best Picture podcast review had a lot of thoughtful and varied opinions on the film, but I most agree with Matt Neglia’s perspective. He notes at one point that Batman often just stands in the middle of a room full of tons of cops, saying nothing, and yet his presence fills the entire room.
The only thing more visually striking than Robert Pattison’s Batman is Greig Fraser’s cinematography. Shot after shot in this film is dramatically composed and absolutely gorgeous. I especially loved that there were so many upside down and rearview mirror shots because I felt as if I was inhabiting Batman’s physics-defying, 360 up, down, and all around world. Even during big action sequences, the camera holds very tightly on characters and objects in a way that is intense and claustrophobic. Some folks on The Next Best Picture complained that the big car chase scene we see in the trailer is too messy and incoherent because it never zooms out in a big aerial drone shot to show where the cars are in relation to one another, but I actually liked the tight focus on faces and parts of the cars because it artistically and psychologically offered something more than a more conventionally edited chase scene would have.
Image Credit: Screen Rant
Fraser’s color palette was equally memorable. In a recent Batman movie draft on The Ringer-verse, Joanna Robinson (I know I mention her in so many of my reviews, but our tastes are so similar!) drafts Matt Reeves’ Gotham, noting that while she also enjoys the blues of Tim Burton’s Gotham, she loves the browns, reds, and oranges of Reeves’. I agree that the world Reeves and Fraser have built is one of if not the strongest aspect of the film. As I was sitting in the theater, I had the same sensation as when I watching Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. I felt transported to an entirely different world and could immerse myself in it. Not so coincidentally, Greg Fraser also did the cinematographer for Dune. Most scenes in The Batman are unsurprisingly dark and gloomy, but with the use of silhouette and shadow, I never felt like what we were watching was washed out or too dimly lit. There’s one scene in particular where Batman’s fighting a bunch of thugs and the only light comes from gunfire, so we constantly move from total darkness to bits of light. This isn’t necessarily a new technique, but I thought it added a lot to the aesthetic of the film overall.
Part of what appeals to me about Batman as a character — more so than other comic book heroes — is that he has this scarier gothic vibe, and the cinematography paired with the production design leaned into that vibe. (And for those of you keeping track of the “Jen can’t handle horror” thread running throughout many of my reviews, this is a good reference for the amount of terror I can endure and enjoy.) Reeve’s camera often treats this Batman, especially when he’s out and about in Gotham, like a monster who terrifyingly jumps out of the shadows, unannounced. Even Wayne Manor looks straight up haunted, with an extremely goth and decaying look, like Miss Havisham’s house in Dickens’ Great Expectations. Is cobweb chic going to be a thing now? We can only hope. Has anyone called Guillermo del Toro to make sure he’s seen this movie?
Before I move on to a spoiler-y discussion of the film’s events and themes, I need to gush about Michael Giacchino’s haunting, memorable, and at times deeply romantic score. I’ve been listening to it at every opportunity since I saw the film, and after sitting with it repeatedly I can conclude two things about why it’s so good: 1.) it perfectly captures the tone of the film, with its layering of dissonant, almost screechy melodies with ethereal vocals and that ominous DUNNNN-DUN-DUN-dun refrain that repeats throughout. Some folks over at NBP said that they saw this as melodic homage to John Williams’ “The Imperial March” (the Darth Vader song) because it uses the same interval. This delighted me to no end. That one simple sequence of notes heightens the fear and intimidation that Batman generates. And 2.) Giacchino draws on the individual theme for each character tradition that John Williams mastered with his Star Wars scores. The Catwoman theme in particular tells the tragedy, toughness, mystery, and allure of that character and her story in an emotionally impactful way. Zoe Kravitz rocked as the Catwoman, by the way. Capable, independent, cunning, wrathful, and yet vulnerable, she’s the Catwoman I’ve been the most impressed with (and intimidated by) so far.
Image Credit: Screen Rant
[SPOILER WARNING: I’ve exhausted the “here’s generally why I loved this movie” take. I’ll now turn to a closer reading of the film, including some mild criticisms. Keep reading if you’ve seen it.]
Image Credit: The Hollywood Reporter
I now realize that I have been circling around but not putting a pin in the idea that Reeves’ vision for Batman and Gotham may hew more closely to the comics I’ve read than any other filmmaker’s. For me, one of the hallmarks of a Batman comic is its first person narration. Not only does that tie the character to the noir tradition, but it makes Batman’s psychology and internal thought process as much a part of the story as the external hero vs. villains conflict. Batman the vigilante (or “Vengeance” as Robert Pattison says so definitively in this film) is dangerously close to being just like the villains he faces. The Joker historically likes to point this out, trying to convince Batman that they are alike — kindred, broken spirits. Matt Reeves’ version of The Riddler tries to make the same argument.
Thus, the dark knight’s psychological profile is pivotal for his superhero narrative. Gotham has taken its toll and enacted violence on both Batman and Batman’s villains. So why is it that Batman is a hero and The Joker or The Riddler are in Arkham Asylum? Every Batman story should be chasing the answer to that question, and filtering narration through Batman’s thoughts is one of the easiest ways to do that. Reeves begins and ends The Batman with first person voiceover narration and shots of Bruce Wayne’s diaries, which both allow Bruce/Batman to reflect on his efforts.
While the comics convey Batman’s inferiority through words in thought bubbles, films also have the cinematic gaze in their toolbox. The camerawork I praised earlier certainly echoes the verbal and textual emphasis on Batman’s POV. I often felt like I was actually in the scene, almost as if I were playing Batman in a video game. If anyone is old enough to remember the obscure gaming system called 3DO, many of its games (the only one I remember by name is The Daedalus Encounter starring Tia Carrere) created this up close and personal feeling, like you were standing in the scene with the other characters. I often felt that while watching this film. If we consider the main gadget Batman uses — the contact lenses — we are quite literally seeing the story through his eyes, even when we’re physically seeing it through Selena Kyle’s eyes in the club. So there’s definitely something here having to do with Batman’s perspective or Batman as a lens through which we view Gotham.
And with this perspective, with this psychological profile, we can — and I would not have thought about this were it not for The Batman — interrogate his unconscious biases as well. Correct me if I’ve forgotten, but I think this is the first one that presents Bruce Wayne’s privilege as a weakness. Selena Kyle says that while she has no idea who he is, she does know that he’s rich because he lacks an understanding of her struggles as the poor, orphaned daughter of Falcone’s former mistress. Bruce clearly feels more comfortable as a Batman than a Wayne, and various characters remark on the rich, white elite of Gotham as the root of its rot. But, most importantly, at the end of the film, Batman trips up with the Riddler because he’s from an aristocratic family and doesn’t recognize the blue collar murder weapon they find. The cop whose father was a carpet cleaner/repairman has to explain to Batman that the blunt object The Riddler left behind for them to find is in fact a tool used to pull up carpets. Batman then realizes his blind spot and, with this new information, pulls up the rug in The Riddler’s apartment to reveal a map of his master plan. By then, though, it’s too late to stop the explosions.
Bruce Wayne as Batman and Batman as secret billionaire is so foundational to the character that the vigilante’s family legacy and the financial advantages that come with it will always be a tricky feature to navigate in a 21st century world trying to address economic inequality and hold its 1% more accountable. But I think Reeves does an okay job with this within the parameters of both the history of Batman and the comic book movie genre.
That’s kind of where the meaningful social commentary ends, though. The film wobbles the most in its final act, mostly because there isn’t any discernible political commentary in the exposure of Gotham’s corruption beyond “corruption is bad.” The Riddler’s systematic exposure of Gotham’s most “dirty” figures doesn’t actually amount to all that much because the focus shifts to the flooding. As many critics have noted, the film’s noir crime thriller focus fades away as a more run of the mill, large-scale disaster plot takes its place.
Reeves taps into a 2022 fear of people being radicalized by online influencers, having easy access to guns, and plotting some kind of violent takeover out of dissatisfaction with governmental institutions, eerily similar to the Jan. 6 attack on the US Capitol. I don’t think it has anything insightful to say about that. I do think that it’s appropriating our fear of gun violence and extremism to give us a relatable foothold in the terrors of Gotham.
This was not enough to taint my experience of the film. For some, it may have brought it down a couple stars, and that’s okay. Unlike Todd Phillips’s Joker, I don’t think the film necessarily thinks it’s saying anything profound, so it’s more okay that it’s not. Once I shift my own thinking to decontextualize the Riddler and his followers from the real world and consider them as exclusively serving Batman’s personal hell, enabling him to make the epiphany he does about vengeance vs. hope, I think it works a lot better.
I was actually more disappointed that in the very heartfelt hospital scene, Alfred walked back the big reveal about Thomas Wayne as corruptible. I was really excited by the prospect of the Wayne family being implicated in the corruption of Gotham and Bruce having to reckon with that. For a brief moment, I actually thought they were going to reveal that The Riddler was an illegitimate Wayne child because they spent so much time on Martha being institutionalized in Arkham and Thomas trying to protect her reputation. It seemed strange for that information to not manifest at all. As I discuss briefly in my Nightmare Alley review, abuses against women, especially ones who have been shut away or institutionalized, is very much a part of the Victorian Gothic tradition. So it wouldn’t have been out of bounds in this contemporary, urban Gothic film.
Furthermore, this seems like a perfect avenue to pursue and differentiate this Batman’s origin story from others. I wanted The Riddler’s “The Sins of the Father” idea to have more bite. I wanted Reeves to commit to the idea if airing out Gotham’s dirty laundry. He chickened out, trying to have it both ways: be edgy and innovative with Gotham’s mythology, but then back down and say just kidding the good guys are still straightforwardly the good guys in the end. (Probably so as not to upset fans, which I understand.)
Image Credit: Screen Rant
Despite its shortcomings, The Batman gave me so much. The shot of Batman wading through water with a flare gun, leading others to safety. The shot of him carrying someone from the rubble as the sun rises. I hesitate to give those up in exchange for what this film lacks.
I’m still thinking about all this and more days later, and look forward to watching again. Though, at three hours, it’s going to be tough for me to get back to a theater after my kids go to bed and not be a walking zombie the next day, which is very much what happened upon my first viewing. Compared to other three-hour films I’ve seen recently, though, this one was worth staying up late for.