I don't know anything about comics. The extent of my Batman knowledge is about three episodes of WB cartoons I watched with my brother and that faintly-remembered "Jingle Bells" parody from grade school. Am I a cynic to admit that I'm not too interested in the superhero obsession that Hollywood's having lately? For someone who's never liked blockbuster films, I think these franchises just add another glossed layer of fantasy to something already so fake and unreal.
Yet in this horde of superhero films, Christopher Nolan comes along and makes a comics-based trilogy that is worth watching. Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for Nolan, but there's a craftiness to his films that transcends their large scope that manages to captivate me with every endeavor. After all, it wasn't always about IMAX cameras and expansive wide shots. Memento, Nolan's 2000 breakout feature, still remains one of my favorites of all time for its ability to grab the viewer into the film to completely get lost and dissolved within it. It's this intricate storytelling that Nolan almost always sells me on. Of course, the jaw-dropping effects from a blindingly large budget doesn't hurt either for his later films.
In The Dark Knight Rises, the final chapter of the Batman series, Nolan brings Bruce Wayne's story to an evident full circle. Additionally, the film hints at many more political, economic and otherwise "real-life" issues than the previously more philosophical films. Whereas Batman Begins dealt with the idea of overcoming one's fear and The Dark Knight presented the coexistence of good and evil, The Dark Knight Rises incorporates ideas similar to those of the Occupy movement to bring "power to the people."
Along with this slight shift in ideology, the film's main villain, Bane, contrasts drastically with The Joker. A trained mercenary, Bane (Tom Hardy) is a much more organized, intelligent terrorist with an ultimate goal and loyal henchmen to help him achieve it. Eight years after the events of The Dark Knight, Bane plans to wreak havoc on Gotham to bring it to ashes once and for all, forcing Batman to return from his self-imposed exile to save his city. For the first time, Batman is weak and proves to be no physical match for Bane.
As excited as I was about Nolan's concluding masterpiece to his Batman series, my expectations were only matched. And that's a slight disappointment because I just always think Nolan would always exceed my expectations.
The film had a sort of overtly theatrical air to it that I didn't like, and I will be quick to point my finger at Anne Hathaway. I never found myself to be a fan of her acting. In Nolan's film, she is Selina Kyle/Catwoman. As seductive as she's lauded to be, I just can't get myself to stomach her forced lines. The lack of chemistry between Bale and Hathaway is also painful to watch at times. While Hardy makes up somewhat by overcoming the feat of portraying intent and emotion with half of his face covered, none of the acting in this movie can hold a candle to Heath Ledger's Joker, probably one of the most well-executed roles in film history.
And that was expected. So god forbid Nolan only met my expectations this time. Please don't send me death threats. It's still a great spectacle with an intricate storyline that brings closure to Nolan's Batman series. If anything, go for the cinematic eye candy and surround sound that really elevates the movie to a full, engaging experience.
It's no surprise that Nolan's Batman has come a long way from any incarnation of the caped crusader in the past. It's not easy to take a klutz of a superhero with bat ears seriously – and sometimes I find myself holding back a snicker at Christian Bale's still somewhat comically-large cape – but Nolan's Batman is first and foremost a convincingly menacing character. Helping tremendously is the gloom of this version of Gotham that Nolan creates to ground his Batman in. It's like Nolan washes over each wide shot slide of Gotham with an extra layer of ink to establish that signature color scheme. The grime of the city is exposed with each raindrop and dark alley to make for an exaggerated reality, a relatable context for viewers to throw themselves into.
And that's, at the core, what Batman is all about: He is one of us. Nolan's captivating storytelling kicks in with the double life of Bruce Wayne/Batman. The large focus on Wayne's intentions, history and emotional conflicts anchor the character – and the films as a whole – to deep human interests. After all, Batman is supposed to be a mere symbol, someone that anyone could be.
Perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to Nolan's Batman series, because they're not so much superhero films than they are stories of ordinary people.