Film Review - The Dark Knight

Marvel Studios, look out – things just got real: The Dark Knight redefines the limits of the comicbook movie. Christopher Nolan’s newest batfilm rebuilds its pulp pedigree from the ground up as both expansive modern crime drama, dense and visually explosive, and searing moral discourse on the tug-of-warring counterbalance between human capacity for both rectitude and violence.

Following a terrifically orchestrated opening bank heist which sees the disposable goons of new clown in town, The Joker (Heath Ledger), hitting Gotham’s underworld right where it hurts, Nolan sets his pieces in place early and, with Fincher-like precision, propels us hurtling down some dark and heady byways. Batman (Christian Bale) has become a social phenomenon, inspiring clueless everyman copybat wannabes, as well as the cackling human hurricane of bedlam that is his freshest scar-faced foe. But with a driven new district attorney in the form of people’s hero, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), it seems the city’s need for the caped crusader could finally be coming to an end. That is, until the wildcard that is The Joker puts himself in the mob’s employ with an agenda most sinister in its simplicity: kill Batman.

With the blinding virtuosity of a Heat-era Mann, Nolan’s sequel outstrips its progenitor. Disposing even further of the character’s wide arsenal of gadgetry than did the extensively de-fabulised Batman Begins, The Dark Knight takes it to the streets, finding a bruised and battered Bruce Wayne shacked up not in the cushy surrounds of Wayne Manor and its tricked out batcave, but rather a penthouse loft and an underground warehouse. It’s a decision indicative of Nolan’s approach to the whole, with everything inched slightly closer to the firm ground of (heightened) reality. Forget The Incredible Hulk’s arduous fifteen minute monster-mash – The Joker’s mobile assault on an armoured police van is the action stand-out of the year. And the blockbuster thrills don’t stop here, as Nolan packs enough high-gliding, batpodding, truck-flipping action amidst his intricate, tightly sewn plot to make a dejected 007 put the Aston Martin into storage and hang up the killer Rolex for life.

The exemplary cast are across-the-board great, with Bale adroitly taking in stride the discernible shift from front-and-centre topliner to key player in an evenhanded ensemble. His presence as Wayne is missed during the film’s final act, with its narrative-necessitated need for him to remain Batman, not billionaire, and a significant mid-way character beat comes off strangely rushed without the inner conflict informing his weighty decision afforded more time to mature. Though these are but small quibbles, easily forgiven in the face of the grand scope encompassing Nolan’s meticulous opus, and Bale remains ever the unfaltering mainstay. With the origin of his Batman already covered, the tragic fall from grace of Eckhart’s idealistic Dent is The Dark Knight’s dramatic lynchpin, and the lantern-jawed actor proves perfectly cast as the D.A. out to clean Gotham’s streets. Though his transformation from golden boy to powderkeg thug unfolds within the blink of an eye, Eckhart’s strong characterisation is lent extra heft by some seriously impressive effects work. Certain to wipe all memory of the bad Halloween mask that was Schumacher’s mardi gras Two-Face, Nolan’s take on the villain is stunningly graphic, all charred flesh and exposed bone and tendons.

Filling in for the absent Katie Holmes as the woman torn between Gotham’s two biggest heroes, Maggie Gyllenhaal makes you wish Nolan and co. had thought of her the first time around. Gary Oldman works wonders with straight-laced good cop, Jim Gordon, and Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman make memorable work of their small but integral supporting roles. But the most thrilling addition to Gotham’s gallery of complicated denizens is also its most bittersweet. When Heath Ledger’s Joker – a dizzying, electrifying blitzkrieg of anarchism – tells Batman “I think you and I are destined to do this forever!,” it hits home with the lurch of a fist to the groin, both as lasting and lyrical cinematic sign-off and haunting reminder of the tragedy of his passing. Not just the cheap zenith of a lifetime’s ordeals – some giddy patchwork of deep-seated grudges and repressed childhood traumas – this Joker is genuine anarchist savant, a proudly self-professed “agent of chaos.” His boundless sadism is appropriately tempered with a sharp streak of humour most black (just watch him make a pencil disappear!), whilst the sight of him in nurse’s drag gleefully detonating a hospital bomb is one of the most memorable of the year. It’s a chameleonic high-wire act, iconic in its skittering, tongue-lapping impulsiveness, and will no doubt be the actor’s most durable legacy.

When Batman and The Joker take a breather between beatdowns to wax psycho-philosophical on their chosen lots – the “immovable object,” sneers the Clown Prince, and the “unstoppable force” – the film achieves a rare kind of demented dark poetry, and Nolan graciously scatters these moments throughout. Admirable, too, is his shunning of that now-tiresome genre standard (and sole major dent in Iron Man’s otherwise shimmering armour) of the souped-up face-off smackdown finale, here employing high drama in lieu of overstuffed spectacle, whilst – on the whizz-banging front – the director’s staunch preference of practical special effects grants proceedings a buzzing immediacy.

This is intense and intelligent adult action cinema, light years ahead of a sizeable slice of Marvel’s more throwaway output. Warner Bros. and DC have commendably put their faith in a filmmaker unafraid to tackle big ideas on a blockbuster canvas, and the exhilarating result is nothing short of spectacular – The Dark Knight surmounts the fetters of its comicbook descent to arrive, blazing black, as a new genre high.

DIRECTOR: Christopher Nolan
SCREENWRITERS: Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan
CAST: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman
RATING: M
RUN TIME: 152 minutes

[Originally published at Arts Hub]