Tim Burton
Batman

The death of Heath Ledger, the rumors and controversies surrounding his performance in the upcoming "The Dark Knight", where the late Australian plays the character of Joker, prompted me to revisit the famous "Batman" ('89) by Tim Burton, to discuss it with you on these pages.

I confess that, among the various American comics, Batman is my favorite, both for the characterization of the character and for the traits of the villains of the moment, truly the most interesting of the comic book narrative of the 20th century, and so well characterized as to steal the scene from the protagonist himself.

The generation that grew up in the '70s-'80s cannot forget the funny - although cloying and unintentionally (?) comedic - TV series with Adam West and Burt Ward, which kept the character alive in the collective imagination of the children of the time, besides the almost Gothic cartoons that, in the '90s, were frequently aired on private networks of the Knight (black this one too).

That said, I must admit that Tim Burton's "Batman" was for years my favorite movie, even adorned with a double viewing at the cinema - with double ticket payment - as I was enthralled by the staging of the then prodigious American director, as well as by the acrobatic acting performance of Jack Nicholson in the role of the clownish Joker and (well) by Kim Basinger's legs.

But like all youthful memories, this film too deserves a little revisiting, in a critical key.

About twenty years after its release, in fact, "Batman" appears as a rather naive film, not as brave as other Burton's, and, overall, quite superficial, paying the price to the need for a simplified, Hollywood language, not black as the original comic would have required.

It is true that, as noted by some critics, the film mocks the pop language a lot - so much so that Nicholson himself compares it to a Roy Lichtenstein board - and the exploits of Joker seem to be an expression of iconoclastic, anti-consumerist fury, through the criminal use of common objects (hairspray, makeup, food products) as instruments of death, as well as the need for a break with the past in the name of a Futurism a la Marinetti (here Venice is not destroyed but a museum is devastated), but, apart from this, what remains is, ultimately, a film almost contradictorily destined for mass consumption, whose value decreases over the years.

A careful viewing is enough, for example, at some action scenes, which to this day appear aged, slow and at times boring (sequence in the chemical factory, final sequence even rushed and unconvincing), to the bright comedy interludes in which Michael Keaton shows not to have enough charisma to take on the character of Bruce Wayne (lack of charisma that, not coincidentally, compromised his subsequent career), to the weak sentimental scenes in which Basinger herself does not show this great acting talent.

Even the music by Prince seems almost functional to a huge self-promotional advertising of the Minneapolis genius, at the time already heading towards the most critical and disappointing phase of his career (one would have understood it with classic hindsight).

Above all, stands out, of course, Nicholson's portrayal of the Joker: there is no doubt that, in fifty or sixty years, this film will be remembered, revisited, and replayed primarily in honor of the performance of the New Jersey actor, whose diabolical grin, partly natural, partly internalized from the times of "The Shining", marks the total identification of the real Jack with the namesake Jack Napier.

Diabolical Pierrot, evil clown, a vehicle of pain disguised as a toy, the Joker benefits from Nicholson's performance to speak, above all, to our unconscious, that is, to the child within us who fears the dark souls, the dark doors and the dangers behind the most innocent masks. Stephen King wrote "It" about these obsessions, while the chronicles returned to us, a mocking emulation of the Joker, a not-insignificant character like John Wayne Gacy, a bit different from the namesake Bruce.

Trying to summarize the sensations experienced by watching this film again in a rating, I would give Burton's "Batman" an overall three stars: this Hollywood cinepanettone (even though it was released in summer and reached us in fall) remains, ultimately, a backdrop on which a devil dances in the pale full moon, the Joker indeed.