**This review contains spoilers.**
My sister is in love with the Batman movies; that’s why she insisted I watch them. I figured it was about time to watch The Dark Knight, if not simply to stop the weird glances when I admit to never having seen it. Besides, I love two other Christopher Nolan movies, and so many people are obsessed with the Batman series. Could they all be wrong?
So I watched Batman Begins and it was probably the best superhero movie I’ve seen. It wasn’t even close to being as good as the Nolan films I love, yet good. But it’s The Dark Knight everyone talks about.
Now that I’ve seen it I can say the visuals are splendid. Car chases are fast, sleek, intense. The soundtrack may be timeless.
Now that I’ve seen it, I can also say it’s overrated. From a writer’s standpoint, it was completely plot-driven to the point where characters changed dramatically in ways that made no sense , notably the change resulting in Two-Face. Loki’s turn to evil in Thor was much more believable; a slower progression caused by believable (for super hero movies) circumstances. We can see the change, sympathize. Two-Face wakes up crazy; I couldn’t believe that a man prepared to sacrifice his life could be turned so quickly, so easily.
And the actor change for Rachel – so little was done to establish her as Rachel that I didn’t care when she died. The only one who seemed to care is Two-Face, as if somebody snatched everyone else’s grief and smashed it on him. I wanted to care because of the first movie, wanted shout to Bruce Wayne why he wasn’t crying about the little girl from his boyhood. But how could I, since I wasn’t crying either?
Heath Ledger did a good job, the lizard-licking his lips a nice touch, but I was hardly scared by the Joker’s character. His deeds felt like they existed only to prove how bad the Joker was; he was a typical, predictable maniac whose lack of restraint made his character an overstatement. What is unseen or undone is far more terrifying than its opposite; this movie was all see and do. Perhaps I’m simply spoiled from Andrew’s Scott’s chilling performance at the end of the Sherlock episode “The Great Game.” But maybe not.
The plot was overly complex where it needed simplicity, and far too brief when it needed to take a breath and grow. The end of the first movie had some lovely throwbacks – Liam Nisan’s return, the quote “It’s not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.” The Dark Knight had none of that.
The Dark Knight was also too long for its own good. The only way a lengthy movie can survive is if viewers care about the characters, but since the plot overpowered them, I stopped loving them. Bruce Wayne felt real to me in the first movie, as did Rachel and Alfred. I worried when Rachel was exposed to the gas. I loved her when she comforted the terrified boy. Of course, I did not love her when she turned on Bruce in the end and would not stay devoted to him. but I was angry because I had grown to care about them.
In The Dark Knight, I only felt mild irritation when she kissed Bruce when only a few scenes later she’s kissing Harvey.
In-depth study turns people into critics. I’ve turned into a writing critic, and already I’ve found it can be a lousy life. So many popular movies, books, and songs I can now hardly tolerate and can’t understand why people like them. I try to avoid debates, but not always whole-heartedly, and I know I can be abrasive. Nobody likes it when someone says a movie they love is a wreck. And maybe if I hadn’t become the critic, I would be like the majority of America and have loved The Dark Knight. I’ll never know.
But sometimes it’s good to be a critic because you’re rewarded so much more when that rare golden movie or book crosses your path and stuns you beyond expectation. Characters with so many layers there’s no doubt they are alive; actors whose performances leave you silent. They have the most to teach you; they are the ones that live in you. And then you share, because it is the unknown that will be remembered in half a century, like The Great Gatsby, Emily Dickenson, Jane Austen, Vincent van Gogh.
So, although I did not care for The Dark Knight, I readily say that Christopher Nolan wrote and directed two other movies that I greatly admire while accepting their faults: Inception and The Prestige. I will continue to be a critic, but not for the purpose of arguing or irritating anyone. I want to discover the treasure hidden in ordinary cinema and literature. What I have done here is simply presented evidence of why I believe The Dark Knight is not one of those few, but instead belongs to the multitude that may be forgotten sooner rather than later.
Have you found any of these treasures in form of movies or books? I would love to add to my list of wonderful stories!