I’m Batmaaaaaaaaaynnn.
I’ve had something of a love-hate attitude to Tim Burton; from
really enjoying cult throwbacks like Mars Attacks and Ed Wood, to sitting
through awkward nonsense like his Planet of the Apes remake or the recent Alice
in Wonderland films. Sometimes his macabre style lends itself to delicious mood
and visuals, other times it feels off-kilter and wearisome. Either way, there
is at least often something to talk about with his films—and none moreso than
the one that put him on the map, 1989’s Batman.
The modern superhero film as we know it arguably started with
Richard Donner’s 1979 epic Superman—but a decade later, it took the caped
crusader to solidify it after that film’s ever stupider sequels. After Kal-El
battled supercomputers made by Richard Pryor and sun-powered evil mullet men,
it’s perhaps amazing that the idea was taken seriously at all. And though the
Batman comics had been ever grittier since the seventies, with writer Frank
Miller penning several hard-boiled classics around the character in the decade
since, the general public still probably thought foremost of the
scintillatingly sixties Adam West TV show.
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| "No, really, my Bat-Rope's this long." |
Nevertheless, the project took a while to really take off, with
different ideas and versions being bounced around for nearly the entirety of
the eighties. Everything from an idea involving Bill Murray as Batman and Eddie
Murphy as Robin—I shit you not—was considered, but Burton was attached after
his work on Pee-Wee’s Adventure, of all things. The strange ideas didn’t end
there—Michael Keaton was bought on as the Bat, and bare in mind he was
considered largely a sitcom star then. It’d be like casting Matt LeBlanc as the
Terminator.
But the one notable casting choice was the always intense,
always growling, Jack Nicholson as the Joker. He had played a homicidal lunatic
in The Shining, oh so gloriously, so it made sense. His main competitor for the
role was—again, I shit you not—Robin Williams, which definitely would’ve been
something to witness. Nevertheless, Nicholson turned out one of the most
defining aspects of the film, as we’ll discuss more later.
The film made a huge splash on release in ’89—lame
competition like Star Trek 5? Annihilated. Friday 13th Part
Whatever? Do you even care? The marketing was immense, and Burton, who hadn’t
been that involved in major production at this point, was somewhat overwhelmed.
You’ll see many who were swept up it in all back then swear this one as a
classic, perhaps the best Batman film, perhaps the best comic book film of all
time. And does it really hold up that good?
It does hold up decently, but it’s not that good. Nevertheless, let’s start with one of the main defining elements—the
visuals. The look of this film annihilated the sixties show from the public
consciousness, drawing from abstract German silent cinema to the moody inking
of the contemporary comics for a gothic, shadow-shrouded take on Gotham City. In
terms of mood and sets, it does indeed look very nice; it also combines various
periods, like the fashion of the thirties to the technology of all the decades
in between, to give it a vague timeless feel. All of this massively impacted
future media with the character, from the esteemed animated show in the
nineties to games and comics since. Batman's introduction scene is perfectly staged and incredibly memorable, just as a start.
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| Nice. |
The cast is alright…if dominated by a certain someone as we’ll
get to. Keaton is…decent, having some memorable lines as Batman and Bruce
Wayne, but aside from those moments, his character feels slightly understated
next to future incarnations. Kim Basinger does a fine job as Vicki Vale, and
even Billy Dee Williams lends his effortless cool as villain-to-be Harvey Dent
(a role sadly not reprised until Lego Batman almost three decades later). But
then there’s the one that devours it all—Nicholson, grinning and hamming, all
so much fun to watch. The scene where he defaces an art gallery while dancing
to Prince is utterly stupid if you take a step back, but you’ll be smiling like
the Joker yourself whenever he’s on screen.
That does take me to one of the main flaws—it does feel more
like ‘Joker: The Movie’ when you get right down to it. We follow his start as
just another mobster, to his accident in a vat of chemicals, his rise, and the
battles he instigates with Batman. Indeed, Batman himself just kind of bumbles
along reacting to whatever the Joker’s doing, so the plot ends up feeling a
little unfocused for my liking. It sort of has the opposite problem to many
current Marvel superhero films, where the hero feels like the underdeveloped
one!
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| "Is that crazy enough for ya'? Want me to take a shit on the floor?" |
This all does build to a nicely impressive climax where Joker,
after giving out free money while dancing even more to Prince—and we’ll talk
about the soundtrack soon, don’t worry—and Batman scaling an immense cathedral
to fight him has all the visuals and operatic splendor you’d want.
Unfortunately, it’s around this point that Keaton being unable to turn his head
in the costume becomes real obvious, but oh well. The film makes an attempt to weave
Joker’s story in with Batman’s, by having him be the killer of his parents, but
it feels it could’ve been developed a little more for it to really have impact.
Nevertheless, to tie the plot all together, I appreciate the effort.
Danny Elfman provides the score, which at the time, was
unlike any other superhero score, and on its own still is nicely chilling and
grand. Elfman went on to make almost every Burton score, with endless
variations of choruses and creepy orchestras, but listening to it on its own,
it still works. And the infamous Prince music? Hell, I like it. Sure, it dates
the film, but seeing Nicholson dance to King Partyman is stupid and fun. Prince
himself did a manic little mix for the movie that's worth a listen for sheer purple rain-drenched eighties grooviness.
All in all, 1989’s Batman isn’t without flaws and hasn’t
aged as well as some would make out, but it’s still a decent watch with some
solid moments and one very memorable
performance. But that’s not where it ends—the film made boatloads of cash, and
Burton was of course bought back for the followup, granted yet more creative
freedom.
This is where the other end of my feelings on Burton kick
in. I have to say I’m not a fan of 1992’s Batman Returns, which added more
villains, more gothic-ness, and more Burton. I don’t mind a dark tone but here
it just didn’t add up to me; the film tries to create sympathy for DeVito’s
Penguin but he’s a hateful villain from the get-go, so it all falls flat far as
I’m concerned. Batman is relegated even further to the background, save for his
fling with Michelle Pfeifer’s leatherbound Catwoman, who for obvious reasons
ended up one of the more remembered aspects of it all. The dark tone clashes when
nonsense like an army of rocket-carrying penguins is introduced, and while I
see why this one has its fans, it’s not for me.
Returns was hit hard by controversy thanks to the tone, so
Joel Schumacher was bought in for the rest of this series. This is where things
took drastic turns, as 95’s Batman Forever changed out actors and visuals for a
neon, sillier feel that harkened back to the TV show. Though fans were divided
at best over it, I’ll say that I enjoy it more than Returns if only for Jim
Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones giving us oh so delightfully over the top
performances as Riddler and Two-Face. Sure, the essence of the comics
characters get butchered, but there’s nothing that beats Carrey’s sheer mania
from when he was on top of his game. It’s a goofy film, but one not as goofy
as…
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| "Ach! You fink beink in dis piece of krap is going to sink mein career? I vas in Junior for cryink out lauuud!" |
Yes, we had to get here sooner or later—97’s Batman and
Robin. The one that killed this string of films. The one that ended this
segment of superhero film history. I can’t say much about this one that hasn’t
already been said, so I’ll say this—I can enjoy it in small doses, especially
Arnold Schwarzenegger making classically stupid ice puns. Oh, so many ice puns.
Or the idiocy of George Clooney spouting nonsense about solar flares or
something while wearing sculpted nipples on his Bat-suit. But yes, watched in
full, it’ll dissolve your brains like they were dipped in Joker’s acid.
Superheroes in cinema didn’t recover until X-Men and
Spiderman took the helm in the early 2000s, and Batman himself got the comeback
he needed with Christopher Nolan’s
Batman Begins in 2005. I’ll go more in depth into those films another time, as
I consider them a separate entity from the flicks that started with Burton’s
entry, but I will say that for now, I consider The Dark Knight the epitome of
Bat-flicks to date, even if it’s not flawless itself.
That, or the theatrical movie based on the sixties one. It’s
got penguin-shaped submarines and shark-repelling spray, how do you compete?
Overall, 1989’s Batman inspired a turbulent series and many
imitators, but it paved the way for comic movies being taken seriously once
more, and so everything from Nolan to Marvel owes something to do it. As a
film, it’s a little unbalanced and slightly goofier than some may remember it
being, but worth a watch for sure. If you haven’t seen it, check it out—it’s
certainly unique. Find a nice good quality version, and get ready to dance with
the devil in the pale moonlight…
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