Over the years my
readers know that I’ve never truly liked the majority of comic book films I’ve
seen. There are many reasons for this, some of which are personal to me but
there’s one that as a critic that has only recently occurred to me.
When Martin Scorsese
stated that Marvel Cinematic Universe isn’t filmmaking he was excoriating by
comic books fans. There are some who actually blame the decline of films since
the last Avengers film on that which is ludicrous in many ways, not the
least of which is I just can’t believe that there’s much overlap between the
audiences of The Irishman and Ant-Man Quantumania.
The thing is
Scorsese was right in what he considers the element of cinema and it’s not even
something that dozens of other critics or indeed even fans of the movies
haven’t said over the years. And it’s not the argument that these movies are
formulaic: anyone who seen the last two films in Mad Max knows that
there’s much to be seen in formula if its executed well. No the problem
Scorsese has – and I doubt even the most sympathetic fan of comic book movies
can argue – is that for every single movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe,
they could just as easily have been directed by anyone for all the imprint they
left on them.
Frankly no one
should have been shocked that Chloe Zhao was not able to make any impression of
the work she’d done in Nomadland on Shang-Chi. There was nothing
of the man who’d directed so many Shakespearean masterpieces in Kenneth
Branagh’s direction of Thor and none of the nuance he showed in Belfast.
Ryan Coogler is a brilliant director and I don’t deny the significance of
Black Panther but there was nothing of the subtlety of Fruitvale
Station or the emotional intensity of Creed. And whatever imprint
Joss Whedon made on The Avengers was solely because of the writing; when
it came to directing I saw neither the subtlety in Much Ado About Nothing or
the splashy fun of Cabin in the Woods.
And this has been
true of comic book characters that are directly connected to the MCU, at least
not yet. Sam Raimi’s three Spider-Man movies are all brilliant exercises
in styles but they are tonal outliers compared to every other film he did
before and since. Indeed, there’s an argument that in his low-budget
movie Darkman (a film, in hindsight, that was nearly a quarter-century
ahead of its time) is not only far more a Sam Raimi film than any of the Spiderman
films but honestly a better superhero film in principle and execution. (It
did inspire two straight to video sequels in the 1990s.) Marc Webb is a
brilliant comic director and writer but was there anything of the person who
gave us 500 Days of Summer in either Amazing Spider-Man film?
This happens less
frequently in DC movies over the years. Richard Donner was able to leave his
mark on the first two Superman films and even I can’t deny Zach Snyder
does have a talent for this even if I don’t agree with his results. But for all
the success of Wonder Woman if you didn’t know Patty Jenkins directed
it, would you have known? I’ll grant you the majority of Jenkins’s work, aside
from Monster has been in television but I’ve seen some of her work,
particularly the undervalued limited series I Am The Night which in her
two episode has more subtlety and flair than either of her movies for DC. As for the other movies in the DC Universe,
tell me seriously if I’d told you the same man who directed The Conjuring and
Insidious also directed Aquaman and you didn’t already know that,
would you have known? I didn’t until just now.
This is not, for the
record, something that happens with other movies in other franchises. Denis Villeneuve
left an imprint in Blade Runner:2049 which I did recognize while it was
similar to Ridley Scott’s original. Scott has a different version for Alien then
James Cameron did and both worked to a different extent and the most recent
trilogy of Halloween films – especially the first – did allow for styles
that I recognized of David Gordon Green that was both different from and
similar to John Carpenter’s original. It’s even true for directors who take on
completely different franchises and have worked in the MCU: Kenneth
Branagh’s Hercule Poirot mysteries are Branagh films in a way Thor isn’t
even though he directed them. Even the most recent James Bond films have
allowed for some great directorial creativity -
Skyfall is considered one of the greatest Bond films ever made
and that’s in large because Sam Mendes, who is a visionary director of the form
was allowed free reign.
Only the comic book
is so formulaic in not only its basic structure but what it can reliably tell
in its plots that there is no room for any vision at all on the part of the
director. This was, as I’ve said before, particularly true in the Marvel
Cinematic Universe when the only real job of almost every film that wasn’t an Avengers
movie, was to go in a set path with no real variation. Consequently the
films might as well have been directed by anybody at all. And this has been the
biggest problem with almost every single comic book franchise in history.
With one critical
exception.
From the moment that
Tim Burton unleashed the first Batman film on us thirty-five years ago
directors have been able to do let their vision be freed on the big screen
regardless of the formula of the comic book. It doesn’t make them all
masterpieces by any means, quite a few of the films then and now have failed
critically and financially.
But the difference
between, say, the failure of Batman & Robin and Shazam: Fury of
the Gods is radically different. Batman & Robin is no doubt the
worst movie not just in the history of comic books (though I’m not convinced
it’s as horrible as so many believe) but there’s imagination and fun in it.
There’s a director who is devoted to a vision, however ludicrous or deeply
flawed it may be, and is willing to let it fail on that merits. You can say
many things about this film (and even the people who starred in it have). But
it’s bad because it’s a horrible idea and badly executed. Fury of the Gods is
a bad film because its unoriginal, formulaic and not even bothering to be that
interesting. It’s dull, which is the worst thing you can call any film. Batman
& Robin might no doubt fall into the so bad its almost good category,
no one will say that of Eternals.
I think there are
two reasons that, in my opinion, the Batman franchise has allowed
filmmakers for more creativity in the majority of the films I’ve seen over the
year. The first is probably how Batman, of course, isn’t a superhero the way
other comic book characters are and that makes his problems different in the
way that the rest of the characters in the world of comics, DC, Marvel or what
have you. It may have strained credulity to many that Lois Lande never realized
Clark Kent was Superman because he was wearing glasses, but each time he came
back after mysteriously disappeared, he didn’t have a black eye or mysterious bruises
to explain along with his absence.
Bruce Wayne is, as
was actually said in one film, just a man in a cape. He has immense resources,
great physical ability and though it’s rarely seen in the films so far, a great
deductive mind. What he doesn’t have is the ability for bullets to bounce off
his skin, magic bracelets or super-healing powers. If you cut him, he will
bleed. The reason for the raspy voice and the mask is not just to disguise his
identity but because it makes him seem inhuman when as we all know he isn’t.
There’s also the
fact that while Batman has a rogue’s gallery of villains to face, they are all
human. They may have the appearance of grotesqueries but they are costumed
freaks the same way he is. Most comic books often argue the villains are
variation on the heroes but considering that all of the villains are insane and
Batman is fundamentally judged by the populace a different kind of threat,
there is a presence of a morally gray area that you just don’t get in almost
every other comic book. The best Batman films – like the best films overall –
have us questioning how we see the world and there’s an ambiguity that we just
can’t get with Captain America or Superman.
And that leads to
the second reason for creativity that other franchises can’t or won’t allow: Batman
is the darkest comic book franchise. I don’t mean in terms of lighting or camera
work or even the nature of the villains: I mean that Batman, more than any
other comic book character, is engaged in a war that everyone – save for
himself - knows is futile. The common
enemy in every Batman film is an existential threat rather than a single man:
crime. And well before Bob Kane even created the series our society knows that
it is a war that can’t be won. The people around the Batman know this and its
actually been said by numerous characters in individual movies. Usually Alfred
is the one to say it but it’s been said by Selina Kyle and many of the villains
themselves. Bruce Wayne is the only character in the movies who won’t admit it –
and the best films not only show the personal cost to him but actually argue
that he is himself is as crazy as the villains he chases because he won’t
acknowledge it.
This can lead to the
movies almost always being relentlessly grim but it also allows them to ask
probing questions that few films, certainly not franchises of any kind, are inclined
to ask. For that reason while several characters in comic books are
increasingly archaic Batman has actually become more relevant as the years go
by, not less. Almost every filmmaker who has helmed one or multiple Batman
films is telling stories that are not merely about Batman against the villains
he faced but about what it actually takes to wage these battles in the first
place. The events of the 21st century have, increasingly, been
leading us to consider the questions that Batman has been facing indirectly for
decades: how far are we willing to go to defeat our enemies? What is the point
of morality when so many of the forces against us will not play by the same
rules – or worse, use our own rules against us to their ends? Have we, in fact,
been fighting the wrong kind of battles when it comes fighting crime in our
cities? Batman, by even the most generous definition, is a vigilante who does
his work outside the boundaries of the law, which means he predates the antihero
theme that has dominated so much of the best of our popular culture in recent
years. (There’s an argument that Joel Schumacher’s entries are the biggest failures
not just because they don’t take Batman seriously but that they don’t take the battles
he’s fighting seriously either.)
And over the years
Batman himself has actually grown in the perception of filmmakers. In the first
decade of films made about him Bruce Wayne was more or less secondary to the
villains he fought and even Batman seemed like a ghost compared to them. As the
21st century began, filmmakers like Christopher Nolan and Matt
Reeves have done much to make Bruce Wayne as significant as Batman and try to
explain why he does what he does – something he is often loathe to explore. Interestingly
the film that may have gotten closest to understanding Bruce Wayne’s psychology
was the Lego version which while it is both a family movie and a satire, has a
far more accurate interpretation as to the real reason why Batman is so devoted
to saving Gotham – and why he’s ignoring the way he could move on.
I’ve found something
of value in every Batman movie which is not something I find in most films in a
franchise. Much of it is cinematic but far more of it is creative and
intellectually. And I truly believe that it has to be because of the work of
the directors who have, for better and (occasionally) worse are allowing to leave
an imprint on Gotham in a way that directors just can’t in nearly any other
comic book franchise.
In this series I
intend to look in detail at all of the films to date that have taken place in
the Batman universe. This will include both of Todd Philips Joker films
as well as The Lego Batman Movie. Because this will be a chronology of
films this series will not include the numerous TV series that take
place in this world, either animated or live-action. I will likely be looking
at Batman: The Animated Series and Batman Beyond in my series on
animated classics later on and there is a possibility that I will eventually include
the recent HBO series The Penguin because it is directly tied to the
Batman cinematic universe in a way that shows like Gotham aren’t.
My approach will be chronological
but there will be certain limitations. Batman Vs. Superman will appear
in the list but Justice League will not. And indeed the former will
almost entirely be used to show not only Zack Snyder’s view of Batman is
important but how his dealing with Superman shows how he views threats that are
beyond the scope of what he is capable of. Similarly I don’t intend to look at
any version of Harley Quinn (to my regret) but very well might look at Folie
A Deux down the line because both Joker films look at the world of Gotham and see Arthur
Fleck’s struggle as a parallel of the one that Bruce Wayne faces – and perhaps
more accurately shows how Wayne could have ended up in Arkham himself. Besides,
there’s no better way to look an auteur than a musical version of Gotham.
Some of this, no
doubt, has been covered before by writers on this very site. My version, as I
mentioned, will look more at the role of the director and writer of the
perception of Batman rather whether it is canon or even in terms of
quality. Stephen King once had one of his characters say: “It is the tale, not
he who tells it.” This is true for most franchise films. The Batman films
are more likely standouts because more often then not, the latter is allowed to
be true and we the viewer are the richer for it.
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