Greatness is a title not easily won. Not for our cinematic heroes and assuredly not for our filmmakers. To be great, one has to do something utterly unexpected, fresh, or awing. Four years ago, writer-director Christopher Nolan concocted arguably the greatest superhero film of all time, "The Dark Knight." He did this by seeing something in the superhero genre that no one else in Hollywood did: drama worthy enough to take itself seriously. To this day when I watch "The Dark Knight," I see it not as a superhero film, but as a gangster saga as deserving of recognition as any Martin Scorsese masterpiece. Nolan's follow-up with "Inception" cemented the prospect: we have found true greatness in a filmmaker.
"The Dark Knight Rises," Christopher Nolan's farewell to the Nolanverse Batman trilogy, is a deepened genre film that surpasses its structured microcosm of being a 'superhero movie' and dives into the far greater challenge of evaluating and observing human nature.
The film holds the spot in Nolan's repertoire as being both the director's darkest film as well as his most muzzled. Despite the thematic and human nature darkness, Nolan surprisingly feels like he holds back from showing all he wants to show. I can't think of another film of his that feels shortchanged because of its PG-13 rating. The moments where this becomes most apparent is the allowance given to Bane's character. He is nowhere near as effective of a villain as he should be specifically because he's limited in his forms of physical violence. The rating-pushing menace of the Joker isn't to be found here. This is not the truly bone-splintering, head-crunching savage I expected from Nolan.
What I love most about the film is its massive subjects and themes. This is a film about people who are broken, in one way or another. In body. In spirit. In soul. Even Gordon, the best of Gotham, is submerged in moral relativism. Batman's decision to take the fall for Dent's crimes was something that we applauded – we agreed with him. But now, we see that moment wasn't his decision to make. For the man willing to give up his life for Gotham... when the moment came down to it, he didn't trust Gotham enough with the truth. Nolan loves having a major theme in each of his movies, and this one is truth. We see how the truth – or lack thereof – manipulates the lives of Gotham citizens.
Christian Bale has never been better as Bruce Wayne/Batman. What Bale does with the role is nothing short of spectacular, and we see that enveloping of a character fans of Bale know he's capable of from "American Psycho" and "The Machinist." He gives the best performance of the movie. Alfred delivers two truly heartrending monologues (one of which rivals my favorite portion of "Good Will Hunting"). Gary Oldman is, as usual, outstanding as Gordon. Joseph Gordon-Levitt was perfect as a cop whose level of observation lets him in on several secrets of the most secretive members of Gotham.
I was pleasantly surprised at Anne Hathaway's villainous turn as Selina Kyle/Catwoman. We can tell by Nolan saw something special in her that no one else did. She has a seductive darkness that she can radiate at both subtle and harsh levels. Her motivations might be rather pedestrian, but her Catwoman is still my favorite among the character's incarnations.
Tom Hardy emerges from the shadows as Bane. His costume and mask design is alarming, and his sense of presence is imposing. Unfortunately, this Bane has two problems. The first is his monologist nature. I didn't mind his voice, but he talked more than Jeff Bridges in "Iron Man." There's a scene in the film that could have easily been the best Batman scene of all time – and it gets close – if not for Bane continuously monologuing. The second is his methods of killing, which are unimaginative and never savage enough for the character. Nolan's Bane is limited to snapping necks more than anything else. This is disappointing considering this is a villain who has a mesmerizing cold brutality that would rival Anton Chigurh from "No Country for Old Men." As is, I love what Hardy did and how hypnotic/intimidating he could be just by the intensity of his eyes (which were never showcased enough).
Ultimately, although it may not be as quotable or ingenious as its predecessor, it is far more emotional resonant. This film's emotional ending controls how you feel about the series as a whole and couldn't have ended better. I love this ending, because it surprised and satisfied me. The climax turns what was before an excellent addition to Nolan's body of work into an iconic, unnerving, and unforgettable experience.
So does Nolan surpass himself? Is this a better Batman movie? In a way. That's the problem with a complete comparison: they are totally different creatures, almost different genres. An example would be to compare "The Empire Strikes Back" to "Return of the Jedi" – "Empire" may be the better movie, but "Jedi" is the payoff that makes the whole thing work. With any flaws "The Dark Knight Rises" may have, it's still the perfect payoff and send-off for what is my favorite superhero series of all time.
When all is said and done, this is the end of an era. There has never been anything quite like this series, and I doubt there ever will be again. Nolan turned a flight of fancy into something more. He made us look at this crime-fighting man dressed a bat not only as a character existing in realism, but also as a vessel containing a high-class type of drama, emotion, and weight we usually withhold only for more adult fare. This is, without a doubt, the stuff that legends are made of. This is the stuff that legends are made of.
"The Dark Knight Rises," Christopher Nolan's farewell to the Nolanverse Batman trilogy, is a deepened genre film that surpasses its structured microcosm of being a 'superhero movie' and dives into the far greater challenge of evaluating and observing human nature.
The film holds the spot in Nolan's repertoire as being both the director's darkest film as well as his most muzzled. Despite the thematic and human nature darkness, Nolan surprisingly feels like he holds back from showing all he wants to show. I can't think of another film of his that feels shortchanged because of its PG-13 rating. The moments where this becomes most apparent is the allowance given to Bane's character. He is nowhere near as effective of a villain as he should be specifically because he's limited in his forms of physical violence. The rating-pushing menace of the Joker isn't to be found here. This is not the truly bone-splintering, head-crunching savage I expected from Nolan.
What I love most about the film is its massive subjects and themes. This is a film about people who are broken, in one way or another. In body. In spirit. In soul. Even Gordon, the best of Gotham, is submerged in moral relativism. Batman's decision to take the fall for Dent's crimes was something that we applauded – we agreed with him. But now, we see that moment wasn't his decision to make. For the man willing to give up his life for Gotham... when the moment came down to it, he didn't trust Gotham enough with the truth. Nolan loves having a major theme in each of his movies, and this one is truth. We see how the truth – or lack thereof – manipulates the lives of Gotham citizens.
Christian Bale has never been better as Bruce Wayne/Batman. What Bale does with the role is nothing short of spectacular, and we see that enveloping of a character fans of Bale know he's capable of from "American Psycho" and "The Machinist." He gives the best performance of the movie. Alfred delivers two truly heartrending monologues (one of which rivals my favorite portion of "Good Will Hunting"). Gary Oldman is, as usual, outstanding as Gordon. Joseph Gordon-Levitt was perfect as a cop whose level of observation lets him in on several secrets of the most secretive members of Gotham.
I was pleasantly surprised at Anne Hathaway's villainous turn as Selina Kyle/Catwoman. We can tell by Nolan saw something special in her that no one else did. She has a seductive darkness that she can radiate at both subtle and harsh levels. Her motivations might be rather pedestrian, but her Catwoman is still my favorite among the character's incarnations.
Tom Hardy emerges from the shadows as Bane. His costume and mask design is alarming, and his sense of presence is imposing. Unfortunately, this Bane has two problems. The first is his monologist nature. I didn't mind his voice, but he talked more than Jeff Bridges in "Iron Man." There's a scene in the film that could have easily been the best Batman scene of all time – and it gets close – if not for Bane continuously monologuing. The second is his methods of killing, which are unimaginative and never savage enough for the character. Nolan's Bane is limited to snapping necks more than anything else. This is disappointing considering this is a villain who has a mesmerizing cold brutality that would rival Anton Chigurh from "No Country for Old Men." As is, I love what Hardy did and how hypnotic/intimidating he could be just by the intensity of his eyes (which were never showcased enough).
Ultimately, although it may not be as quotable or ingenious as its predecessor, it is far more emotional resonant. This film's emotional ending controls how you feel about the series as a whole and couldn't have ended better. I love this ending, because it surprised and satisfied me. The climax turns what was before an excellent addition to Nolan's body of work into an iconic, unnerving, and unforgettable experience.
So does Nolan surpass himself? Is this a better Batman movie? In a way. That's the problem with a complete comparison: they are totally different creatures, almost different genres. An example would be to compare "The Empire Strikes Back" to "Return of the Jedi" – "Empire" may be the better movie, but "Jedi" is the payoff that makes the whole thing work. With any flaws "The Dark Knight Rises" may have, it's still the perfect payoff and send-off for what is my favorite superhero series of all time.
When all is said and done, this is the end of an era. There has never been anything quite like this series, and I doubt there ever will be again. Nolan turned a flight of fancy into something more. He made us look at this crime-fighting man dressed a bat not only as a character existing in realism, but also as a vessel containing a high-class type of drama, emotion, and weight we usually withhold only for more adult fare. This is, without a doubt, the stuff that legends are made of. This is the stuff that legends are made of.
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