Matt Reeves
The Batman

So, let's talk about The Batman.

From this dark century

Roy Harper, Hope

If cinema is the mirror of the times, dark times call for grim, oppressive, desperate films.

You want it darker

Joker was already an example, a genuine breakthrough: a superhero film that, like never before, drew from the cinema of a master like Scorsese to depict an alienating, violent, hopeless reality. Made of marginalization, solitude, cynicism.

And the new Bruce Wayne played by the amazing Pattinson (by far the best actor of his generation) is therefore light-years away from every other incarnation of the Dark Knight seen on screen so far. From the pioneer Michael Keaton onwards.

Keaton who, in fact, was even a supporting actor compared to the figures that truly interested Burton; that is, especially in the more personal second chapter, the freaks and outcasts of his Gothic Christmas fairy tale Gotham. Needless to say, I don't even consider the Schumacher ones with Kilmer and Clooney; not out of disrespect for the two films, which can entertain and please and are cult in their own way, but because of the nonexistent mark left by their respective actors in the characterization of the character.

To be archived once and for all, thankfully, is the fake playboy heir Wayne. Bale wore a mask to maintain appearances, to hide within Gotham's high society, showing his true essence only once he donned the bat costume. Forget also Ben Affleck's bravado, boasting of having the superpower of wealth.

Something in the way

To Pattinson and Reeves, none of this matters. Bruce Wayne is now a more solitary and tormented individual than ever, a vengeful and very dark nocturnal animal, black as a starless night. Who writes down his thoughts in a diary, like a modern-day Cobain.

Don't read my diary when I'm not around.

Okay, I'm going to work now. When you wake up this morning, read my diary. Dig through my stuff and find out who I am. Kurt Cobain, Diaries.

Reexamines the original nature of Batman as a detective, showing the huge differences from Burton's and Nolan's versions. If the Batman of the Edward Scissorhands and Ed Wood filmmaker were expressionist and full of melancholy and gothic poetry, and those of the Nolan trilogy embraced the coming-of-age story and the urban noir of Michael Mann's style, Reeves' version recalls certain dynamics akin to Seven, especially in the figure of the Riddler portrayed excellently and disturbingly by Paul Dano. A relative of Kevin Spacey's John Doe, the prototype of the modern villain par excellence. But most of all, akin to Joaquin Phoenix's Arthur in a social profile.

Gotham has certainly always been a place of corruption and perdition. But never like in this case - if not considering, indeed, Todd Phillips' masterpiece - has the excavation into the moral ruins of a civilization been brought to the surface, and even the figure of Thomas Wayne, always idealized, sanctified, and never questioned, is torn apart. The result is an idea of a society without heroes or founding fathers to defend and adore. In fact, the paternal figure is destroyed by Reeves, as also in the case of Carmine Falcone expertly played by John Turturro.

There is no dark side in the moon, really. Matter of fact it's all dark.

There isn't a single sunny scene in this Batman. And, although a faint hint of light may finally be seen on the horizon, the moon remains completely dark. Foretelling a dawn of further and even more extreme chaos, with the arrival of Barry Keoghan's Joker.

Even if we may not talk about absolute nihilism, there isn't the redemption of humanity staged by Nolan in Dark Knight, with criminals and civilians refusing to blow up others to save themselves. There is rather an idea of perpetual lies, disenchantment, existential annihilation. A society that creates its own monsters in abandonment, accustoming them to a life of indifference and in the dream of violent revenge. A perfect mirror of modernity.

Certainly, Nolan's trilogy led to a very broad narrative arc for the character, from his formation to his final escape from the myth of the Dark Knight. Displaying motivations and nuances. Comparing it to The Batman may therefore seem forced, but undoubtedly this Batman by Reeves and Pattinson brings something new compared to what has been seen before. And it's something that deeply impacts, emotionally but also visually: the rendering of the images is impressive and monumental.

Convincing also is the new Catwoman by Zoe Kravitz. Slightly hinted but decidedly successful is Farrell's Penguin, returned in this case to his original gangster dimension, rather than De Vito's unforgettable but very fictionalized version.

An imposing film and a high-level cinematic experience. Three hours of pure art of image and sound.

If revenge is futile, the redemption of a city, a civilization, and an entire era, remains nonetheless very far away.