Batman

I've lost count of the number of Batman movies that have come through the cinemas in the last 20 years, but my heart still races back to Tim Burton's 1989 original. I should probably state now that I'm actually not a big fan of comic book adaptations (I hope this doesn't diminish my credibility as a reviewer!), so I can't speak to how faithful this version was to Bob Kane's original conception. But I can speak to how well it works as an action movie with superb casting, and how it left a big mark on American popular culture at the time of its release in the late '80s. (I can still remember my friend Keri, during 5th grade recess, bluntly stating, "Hey, I'm no Picasso!")

With the exception of Batman & Robin, I've seen all the other Batman movies, and so far I'd have to say that Michael Keaton was the best Batman to date. I did enjoy Val Kilmer's solo stint as the Dark Knight in Batman Forever, and was impressed by Christian Bale's turn in Batman Begins, but I can't seem to turn away from Keaton's brooding interpretation of the character. I think it's because he played the character so dark, so mysterious, so detached from the world, so closed, with so many skeletons in the closet that I felt his Batman was the best. (For the record, it's been a long time since I've seen Adam West don the bat suit. Lately, I only seem to know him as the mayor of Quahog in "The Family Guy".)

The casting of the 1989 Batman I felt was spot-on. Let's get right to the meat of the casting—to wit, Jack Nicholson as The Joker. I'll just get this out of my system now: Jack was totally snubbed by the Academy here! With his lunatic interpretation of The Joker, Jack completely stole the show, and didn't just pull but ripped the carpet out from underneath everyone else's feet throughout the film. You almost have to wonder if he had a little too much fun in this role. Some of his standout scenes were when he first introduces himself as The Joker to Carl Grissom (the suave, smooth-talking Jack Palance—I must also add that it sent shivers up my spine to see him and Jack Nicholson, two giants, in the same scene together), the entrance into the art museum before his meeting with Vicki Vale (Kim Basinger, back in her sex-symbol days), when he shakes hands with one of Grissom's goons and literally fries him on the spot with an electrical hand buzzer, not to mention the parade scene at the end. Seriously, only Jack Nicholson could have pulled off a character like this, with such a perfect mix of insanity and comedy.

If I may digress a moment to the art museum scene . . . growing up with an artistic background from having a father who's an art teacher, it's still difficult seeing The Joker and his goons trash the art museum to the strains of Prince (or the artist formally known thereto . . . whatever!)—slapping handprints all over Rembrandt, painting circles around George Washington, or taking a paintbrush and writing, "Joker was here!" on a European wall. At the same time, though, it perfectly highlights the outlandishness of his character, and affords him some of his greatest lines during his meeting with Vicki Vale. I'll let the scene speak for itself here.



Kim Basinger, in retrospect, seemed like the logical choice to play the love interest to the superhero, simply because in the late '80s she was still firmly seated in the sex-symbol canon. I thought she worked well opposite Keaton (and Nicholson). As to the character of Alfred, I personally preferred Michael Gough over Michael Caine. I felt that Gough brought more dignity to the role, so subtly adding humor to the character by always conveniently knowing where Bruce Wayne would be and what he was doing. His chasing on the heels of the reckless Wayne early in the film (during the party scene at Wayne Manor) was priceless, and I always have to stifle a laugh whenever he pours a glass of water mere moments before Bruce Wayne enters the room and requests that very thing. In Batman Begins, Michael Caine just played . . . well, Michael Caine! That's not to say that Michael Caine is a bad actor—not by a long shot!—but in the role of Alfred Pennyworth, I'll take Michael Gough any day. Robert Wuhl was enjoyable as the reporter Knox who can't stop trying to pick up Vale, and Pat Hingle was a treat to see in the role of Commissioner Gordon.

As much as I enjoy the original Batman, I don’t think I ever realized just how much camp there was to it. It may very well have been the comic book element; it may also have been the Tim Burton style, where every building and every set piece looks ridiculously fake. Here, too, everything is dark and empty, much like a dank, deserted Gothic cathedral (hmm, perhaps the origins of the setting—Gotham City?). But that I attribute to the darkness of the Batman story. On that same note, I know that in the spirit of remaining true to the original comic material, all Joker costumes were designed from that hideous flat purple against an equally flat green. (Ugh!) And another little technique that I noticed was the mixing of period elements. In the opening scenes, where the family is running through the streets of Gotham frantically looking for a taxi, they're dressed in 1950s attire. Plus, some of the vehicles driven during the film were 1950s models. (Notice some of the parked cars at Wayne Manor during the party scene.) Keep in mind that Batman takes place in the present day (or at least what was considered the present in 1989), so this mixing of period elements was a bold, if subtle stroke. I don't know if anyone remembers the TV series "The Flash" from the early '90s, but this same mixing of period pieces was duplicated—only it was garishly flouted, and thus didn't work as well as in Batman.

I know various liberties were taken with the history of Bruce Wayne (i.e., it wasn't Jack Napier/The Joker who really killed Bruce Wayne's parents), but these liberties don't really bother me—probably because I'm not a comic book loyalist. But all the same, I give the original Batman an 8 out of 10, and I ask you . . . do you ever dance with the devil by the pale moonlight?