Random Ramblings: In Defense of the Mainstream

Mainstream (noun) - A prevailing current or direction of activity or influence.

I am a bit of a compulsive list maker, and websites like Facebook and Pinterest seem to exploit that tendency. As I've gathered my interests into their respective groups and subjects, it appears that, most of the time, my tastes, while eclectic, tend toward things that could be considered "mainstream." My definition of "mainstream" is this: popular, known by many, similar to what we mean when we refer to something as a household name/brand/product.

Is this a bad thing? I don't think so. But I know there are many people who think that liking things that are mainstream equals bad taste. They think that anything in the mainstream, by its very definition, must be mediocre. I once saw a statement posted on the internet by somebody who didn't want to have anything to do with "anybody who listens to Top 40 radio." If we follow this sort of thinking logically, then the only people with good taste would only listen to obscure bands, watch only independent films, read books that never make bestseller lists, buy generic products in anonymous stores, and possibly make their own clothes. They would probably have one secret t-shirt with a recognizable image, like "Van Halen" or something like that.

There is a fine line to walk here, because I agree that some things in the mainstream really are mediocre. There are movies, television shows, music groups, and countless other things that are thrust at us every day. The prevailing strategy of modern advertising is to saturate the market with the newest product. Let he who has the biggest advertising budget win. The problem with this strategy is that good things can be damaged by too much exposure; people don't want to buy something they're already sick of.

I've had this happen to me. There have been a few musicians that I heard about all the time, saw their names and pictures all over the place, and I got sick of it, so I avoided their music without ever actually hearing it. When I finally took the opportunity to listen, it turned out to be really good music that I was happy to have heard. The same thing has happened for me with a few movies.

Just because something is popular doesn't make it bad. Some of the people I admire in the world of music and movies, who are, in my opinion, the very best at what they do, also happen to be some of the most popular in their fields of work. I think a good part of the reason they became popular is because of the high quality of their work. Most of them have remained popular for years, and what is their longevity but a testament to the quality of their work?

I could probably make a list (don’t worry, I won't) of several popular people, household names, and I'm sure that most people would be forced to agree that the people on that list are among the best at what they do. And I'm talking about well-known people (and movies, books, songs, etc.) that are familiar to a wide variety of people. True celebrities, or people who are famous or celebrated because of their accomplishments. Our society has twisted the definition of a "celebrity," and many undeserving people are now called celebrities, although you would be hard-pressed to say why they would be celebrated or what they could possibly have accomplished.

In his essay on Schindler's List, Roger Ebert (mainstream!) wrote something about Steven Spielberg (mainstream!) that I liked: "The film has been an easy target for those who find Spielberg's approach too upbeat or ‘commercial,’ or condemn him for converting Holocaust sources into a well-told story. But every artist must work in his medium, and the medium of film does not exist unless there is an audience between the projector and the screen. Claude Lanzmann made a more profound film about the Holocaust in Shoah, but few were willing to sit through its nine hours. Spielberg's unique ability in his serious films has been to join artistry with popularity―to say what he wants to say in a way that millions of people want to hear."

To criticize something for the fact that it resonates with a majority of people seems wrong. The fact that anything is able to do that is a wonder. But that doesn't mean that anyone with a dissenting viewpoint should feel compelled to conform. And it doesn't necessarily mean that there is anything wrong with things that aren't in the mainstream. I guess I'm writing this in response to the criticism that commercial success is the brand of mediocrity. That shouldn't be an automatic assumption. I think that, deep down, all of us crave some form of recognition for a job well done. (Don’t we?) Some people, though, have succeeded in getting that recognition from millions of people.

It seems as though some people think that anything mainstream taints the purity of their interests. But from my point of view, it's the variety that makes life interesting. If something popular makes my life better, so be it. As I've said before, the trick is to find the right balance.

The Dark Knight Trilogy

Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy has become, in my mind, the definitive version of the Batman legend. His take on the stories leans more toward realism and delves deeper into the tortured world of Bruce Wayne. The term "Dark Knight" was actually used early on in the comics and was made popular by the 1986 graphic novel "The Dark Knight Returns" by Frank Miller. Nolan's movies, conceived with David S. Goyer, borrowed from the original comics and the graphic novels to create a Gotham City rich with history and memorable characters, but set in a more realistic world.

Some people quibble about whether or not Batman qualifies as a “superhero.” My opinion on the matter is, who cares? For some reason, I don’t hear the same complaints about Iron Man, who is really the Marvel Comics cousin of Batman (who originates from Detective Comics). Both men are incredibly smart and incredibly rich. Bruce Wayne is easily the more disturbed of the two, but what connects him to Tony Stark is the fact that they’re both mortal men. Neither has been endowed with superpowers, which in the eyes of some people means that they aren’t superheroes. But that’s exactly why I like Nolan’s version. It takes place in a semi-realistic world where superpowers don’t exist. Therefore, the story possibilities are a little closer to home, a little harder-edged, with much less fantasy to rely on. As one blogger noted, if you take out the character of Batman, you’re left with a dystopian crime drama.

The original Batman comics that appeared in the 1940s were dark, reminiscent of film noir. Then the character was subjected to the camp TV show of the 60s. (The Batcave from the TV show was actually used by Nolan as a location in his trilogy, so a little value was gleaned from the cheesiest version of Batman.) The graphic novels took the stories to their darkest, most violent possibilities. They were true to the essence of a main character that could never be as wholesome as Superman.

Tim Burton’s attempts with Batman and Batman Returns were dark and depressing, introducing us to a world of shadows and crime, full of villains and evildoers. The problem was that we never got to explore that world, to discover why it became that way, and, more importantly, why Bruce Wayne would risk his life as a crimefighter. A critic of Nolan’s films said that audiences couldn’t connect with Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne the way they could with Michael Keaton. Of course I disagree. I liked Michael Keaton in the role, but what was there to connect with? A character with a little mystery can be interesting. Unfortunately, he was all mystery. The only things we as an audience knew about Bruce Wayne were that he’s rich, he’s the alter ego of Batman, his parents were killed before his young eyes, and he had a butler named Alfred. No explanation of how he came to be Batman, or why. We’re left to assume that it’s a case of revenge against the criminals of Gotham, which isn’t heroic at all. As Alfred reminds Bruce in the much smarter Batman Begins, “…What you’re doing has to be beyond that. It can’t be personal. Or you’re just a vigilante.” We may not be able to identify much with Bruce Wayne, but Nolan and Goyer made him into someone we can understand and empathize with.

There were also good things about the Tim Burton films. They featured good performances by Jack Nicholson and Michelle Pfeiffer. They established a new look for the character of Batman, which mustn’t be forgotten. Nolan was smart enough to know that a complete overhaul of the look of Batman might alienate and infuriate his audience. So the new look has developed while still being a descendant of the look established by Burton.

Then Joel Schumacher took over the franchise. Suddenly the world of Batman was more colorful, the humor a little more up front, and even the character of Robin was brought in. Schumacher’s version of Batman was more fun, but it seemed to be slowly crawling back in the direction of the camp TV show. And almost everything was changed, from the actor playing Batman to the Batmobile itself. Only Alfred and Commissioner Gordon remained the same, played by Michael Gough and Pat Hingle, respectively. (With respect to the actors, I always felt that both characters were non-entities. Even in the comics Alfred didn’t seem to have much personality.) As much fun as this new take on things was, I grew to loathe it. The host of characters grew, the special effects grew more spectacular, and Gotham City slipped further into a land of fantasy. Characters we cared about and empathized with were nowhere to be seen.

I have to admit that I felt my share of trepidation when I read about Christopher Nolan’s re-inventing of the Batman franchise. (Maybe that’s part of the problem right there: the term “franchise.” An audience can connect with a character in a story, but how do you connect with a franchise?) Then I started to read the list of actors and my interest began to grow. Trying to introduce a new version of Batman so soon after the last film seemed extremely risky, even foolhardy. Nolan was not known for making “big” films. What more could he bring to the world of Batman? What would make his version unique?

I kept my fingers crossed, and I wasn’t disappointed. I’ll never forget watching Batman Begins for the first time in the theater. There was a specific moment when I realized that I was seeing the Batman that I’d always envisioned. Changes had been made, but they made sense and coalesced into a version that seemed fresh and revitalized. Everything about it felt new, all the way down to an elegantly re-designed bat logo. I walked in expecting the worst, secretly hoping for the best, and what we got is . . . the best.

Critics of Christopher Nolan’s version (especially in the beginning) struck me as very short-sighted. They complained that certain actors from the Tim Burton films had not been brought in. They complained that composers Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard didn’t use Danny Elfman’s Batman theme from previous films. What they failed to realize is that Nolan and Goyer and their collaborators were approaching the world of Batman from a completely different angle, one that owed nothing to the other films. They started from scratch and gave us characters of depth, with less dependence on action and spectacle (although Nolan’s films have plenty). They gave us the Batman films I always dreamed of watching.

(Warning: spoilers abound.)

BATMAN BEGINS (2005)

 
Batman Begins (2005) opens with a memory of Bruce Wayne’s childhood. As he and Rachel Dawes play on the grounds of Wayne Manor, Bruce accidentally falls down a hole and has a life-altering encounter with some bats. Not long after, the boy witnesses the murder of his parents. This is a horrible incident, but we in the audience are grateful for the context that Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer have given to this part of Bruce Wayne’s history. It also sets up a father/son relationship between Bruce and Alfred (Michael Caine), the butler of Wayne Manor.

While Rachel (Katie Holmes) grows up to be an assistant district attorney, Bruce (Christian Bale) harbors a growing desire for revenge against his parents’ killer. Eventually he confronts Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson), possibly the most powerful crime boss in Gotham City. The web of crime engulfing the city is overwhelming, both in size and impenetrability. Then Wayne disappears.

Bruce is found in a prison by a man named Ducard (Liam Neeson), who offers him “a path.” Under the tutelage of Ra’s al Ghul (Ken Watanabe) and as a member of the League of Shadows, Bruce begins to learn the skills he will be able to use to fight crime. He is also taught how to overcome his fear and use it as a weapon. He learns control and finds a way to look past any need for revenge. After learning of their plan to destroy Gotham, Bruce flees the League and returns home with new purpose.

With Alfred as a confidante and helper, Bruce sets about creating the Batman persona. He is greatly aided by Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), the genius of the Applied Sciences branch of Wayne Enterprises, which is now run by the loathsome Mr. Earle (Rutger Hauer). He also seeks out Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), who seems to be the only honest cop in town, one who made an impression on the newly orphaned Bruce Wayne.

As Bruce works to cultivate methods and tools to use as Batman, one new thing worth noting is the re-invented Batmobile. It’s like no other Batmobile that has come before, and in fact is never referred to as “the Batmobile” at any time in the trilogy. Built as a military vehicle, it’s called “the Tumbler” before Bruce paints it black and puts it to use. Another “new” development is the Batcave (which is never called “the Batcave”). It’s an actual cave full of bats that Bruce discovers beneath Wayne Manor. The Tumbler enters and exits through a waterfall that obscures the mouth of the cave.

Also worth noting is how Bruce begins to use “billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne” as a persona and disguise. Who would suspect a rich pretty boy of being a masked crime fighter?

As Batman begins to emerge, so do new villains. In this new version, Batman isn’t up against one villain, but an entire criminal community. Working in connection with Falcone’s hive of thugs is Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), the head of Arkham Asylum. Using a mask and calling himself the Scarecrow, Crane uses a hallucinogen to frighten and torment his victims.

The plans of Crane and Falcone are only the groundwork for a master plan hatched by an unknown force. After a microwave emitter is stolen from a Wayne Enterprises shipment, the plan is to use the emitter to disperse Crane’s toxin into the air and cause the inhabitants of Gotham City to go mad and destroy each other.

We finally learn near the end that the master plan is that of the real Ra’s al Ghul, who was merely posing as Ducard. Crane’s toxin originates with a flower found on the mountain where Bruce was trained as a member of the League of Shadows. Their plan to destroy Gotham has been behind everything, exploiting the local criminals for the sole purpose of one grand apocalypse. The League members release the toxin in the Narrows (which seems to be in the center of Gotham), and then free the criminals held in Arkham.

So we have everyone in the Narrows being affected by a hallucinogenic toxin and set upon by insane criminals. And it’s basically up to Batman and Jim Gordon to save the day. While Gordon uses the Tumbler, Batman goes one-on-one with Ra’s al Ghul, and we get Liam Neeson in his first villain role. He is very effective as a mentor to Bruce Wayne, but he is also a formidable foe of Batman.

While many movies end with chases and fights, this one seems to have real purpose within the story. By this time, we have invested in the characters, and we understand why Bruce Wayne would fight to save Gotham instead of watching it be destroyed. It’s easy to see why the League of Shadows would wish such a thing: Gotham is a cesspool of injustice. But Batman believes in the goodness of people and uses his image to inspire fear in his enemies while inspiring others to stand against evil.

One of the last shots of Batman Begins is a close-up of a playing card, a joker. It cleverly sets up the possibilities for the next film. Christopher Nolan says that he didn’t set out to make a trilogy of Batman films, his goal was to make one. Once Batman Begins became a huge success, his new goal was to make one more. Part of the accomplishment of his trilogy is its cohesiveness as a whole. All three films flow together very well.

Batman Begins is dark, full of shadows and danger, with a subtle thread of humor throughout the movie. This story finally gives scope to the world of Batman and gives us a Bruce Wayne that holds our attention. He doesn’t even dress up as Batman for the first hour of the movie, but by then the character has earned our interest. As Roger Ebert said in his review, “This is at last the Batman movie I’ve been waiting for.”

THE DARK KNIGHT (2008)

 
Near the end of 2008, Stephen King wrote that The Dark Knight (2008) was “the best superhero movie ever.” He might be right. The story takes us beyond the normal realms of “comic book movies” and goes much deeper. It was a phenomenon, not only more successful than Batman Begins, but one of the most successful movies of all time.

The opening scene of the film fulfills the unspoken promise made at the end of Batman Begins when Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) showed Batman the Joker’s “calling card.” We watch as several men in clown masks rob a Gotham City bank and learn as they talk that they all work for the Joker (the late Heath Ledger), although none of them seem to know who he is. He is finally revealed at the end of the scene, in a striking close-up, to be one of the robbers. By now we know that this Joker is going to be different from anything we’ve ever seen.

The next scene shows us how the crime world of Gotham has developed since the appearance of Batman (Christian Bale). In the previous film Gordon mentioned escalation, and now we see the evidence, some of it unexpected. Not only does Batman have to contend with bad guys, but a number of copycats who dress up as he does. The giveaway is that the copycats wield guns, while the real Batman refuses to use that particular weapon.

Very soon we meet Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), a fearless district attorney who also happens to work with Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal), Bruce Wayne’s old friend. Dent isn’t intimidated by Gotham’s crime element and is keen to find a way to bring down as many criminals as he can, preferably all at once. He knows that Gordon is working with the Batman to do this, but Gordon and Dent don’t work together easily. There is a lot of mistrust between their respective teams, maybe with good reason. As we saw in Batman Begins, the crime lords of Gotham have penetrated every level of the city’s infrastructure.

The Joker’s real introduction comes next, before a council of crime lords. The scene is wonderful. Heath Ledger is nearly unrecognizable, not just because of his makeup job, but because of his voice and body language. His performance is thrilling to watch. His Joker is smart, persuasive, dangerous, fascinating. He won a posthumous Academy Award for his role, and it’s easy to see why: it ups the ante of the entire movie. Even though the Joker is, in a sense, fun to watch, he’s frightening because he could be real. His look was not the result of being dipped in chemicals. His scenes reveal a dark and twisted intelligence at work. Rarely does an actor inhabit a character so completely.

The crime lords at first don’t agree to the Joker’s proposition and are soon struck a mighty blow from the combined efforts of Batman, Dent, and Gordon. Even the mob’s accountant finds himself being “extradited” from Hong Kong by the Batman. So the gangsters decide to try the Joker’s plan, and right away he succeeds in killing the police commissioner and a judge. His attempt on Harvey Dent’s life is foiled by the appearance of the Batman, but he proves to the city’s crime lords that his methods are effective.

Let’s stop for a moment and discuss how our characters have developed since Batman Begins.

Bruce Wayne and Alfred (Michael Caine) have had to temporarily relocate to a penthouse while Wayne Manor is being rebuilt. Bruce is still using his playboy image to distract from his true night life, while also using it to promote Harvey Dent as the “white knight” that Gotham needs. And Alfred, as always, has the wisest and most poignant dialogue. He is not only an aide and confidante to Bruce, but also a father figure, a role that Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson) proved too corrupt to fulfill.

Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), who became the CEO of Wayne Enterprises at the end of the last film, is now in an even better position to help Bruce/Batman. And he proves to be an ultra-savvy businessman/diplomat/advisor. Near the end of the movie, Lucius becomes the voice of moral reason.

Much has been made about Maggie Gyllenhaal taking over the role of Rachel Dawes from Katie Holmes. She does very well here, but I think many of the reviewers were unnecessarily harsh towards Katie Holmes, who did just fine in Batman Begins. Ms. Gyllenhaal doesn’t do anything in The Dark Knight that Ms. Holmes couldn’t have done just as well. But enough of that. Rachel is now dating her boss, Harvey Dent, and has moved on from her interest in Bruce Wayne. Her role in the story is a little tricky. While she appears to be wavering between Harvey and Bruce, in the end she chooses Harvey. She intends to tell Bruce in a note, but Alfred, who knows the truth, decides that the moment isn’t right. (This turns out to have crucial consequences in the relationship between Bruce and Alfred in The Dark Knight Rises.)

The Dark Knight trades a fake death for a real one. The first one, the staged death of Jim Gordon, takes us by surprise. (But he’s not Commissioner Gordon yet! How can they kill him off?!) His reappearance comes with the capture of the Joker after a stunning chase sequence involving a semi-truck and the new Batpod (which is actually referred to by name!). As a result, Gordon is promoted to Commissioner. The real payoff, though, is a quiet little scene where he reunites with his son (one of my favorite moments in the movie).

The real death is that of Rachel. She and Harvey are kidnapped by the Joker’s henchmen and tied to barrels and explosives in separate warehouses. Batman is able to save Dent, but Gordon and the police are too late to save Rachel. While her death is not wholly unforeseeable, we can’t predict how it will affect the relationships of the remaining characters. Bruce, believing that Rachel would one day return to him, forces himself through the grief and focuses on finding the Joker. But Dent, scarred by the explosion of the warehouse in which he was trapped, and tainted by the persuasive words of the Joker, becomes “Harvey Two-Face” and begins a manhunt, bent on revenge.

A moment of great tension in the film comes when the Joker has two ferry boats rigged to explode. One is filled with civilians, the other with convicted felons. The twisted choice offered by the Joker is for one group of people to blow up the other. All of the Joker’s ploys are ingenious, offering no easy choices. He describes himself as “an agent of chaos,” working to bring out the animalistic natures of the people of Gotham. But Batman puts his faith in the ability of people to make good choices and do the right thing.

There are so many things in this film that I admire. The characters have convincing relationships with a history. Christian Bale’s Batman has an emotional complexity that lends real depth to the story. His enemies are not his polar opposites, but a mirror to his own flaws. The cinematography is incredible, making good use (just as in Batman Begins) of locations in and around Chicago, many of them in daylight. And we get Heath Ledger’s Joker (simply the best), possibly the most psychologically complex villain to ever appear in a Batman film.

Watching The Dark Knight is an exhilarating experience.

THE DARK KNIGHT RISES (2012)

 
And now we come to The Dark Knight Rises (2012), the final chapter in the Dark Knight Trilogy. The buzz surrounding the film was incredible, the expectations very high. The Dark Knight broke records left and right and set an extremely high-water mark with Heath Ledger’s performance as the Joker. Many people wondered whether the new film would live up to the hype.

I think it does. Christopher Nolan and his team have created a powerful film that builds to a wonderful climax. The story finds a definite conclusion, although some of the characters’ stories are left with interesting possibilities. Nolan and his actors have stated that this is their final Batman movie, and I applaud their decision. Not every film franchise can, or should, go on forever. Sometimes the best thing is to let a story continue in the minds of the viewers. Otherwise, it can grow stale and tired, and it loses something. (The James Bond films are an obvious exception to this.) Giving the story a strong ending is the right thing to do.

The first time I saw The Dark Knight Rises, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But the more I watched it, the more I grew to love it. After the phenomenal success of The Dark Knight, it was hard not to feel some trepidation. The second viewing was a much more relaxed experience, and I was able to focus on what works so well within the story, which takes place eight years after the events of The Dark Knight.

Let’s start with Bane (Tom Hardy), the lead villain. His introduction is early in the film, and he is immediately effective. His look is distinctive and intimidating, with a mask that works well for the character, but isn’t explained very clearly. Bane has been endlessly compared to the Joker, but the two characters are worlds apart. Bane’s plan and sense of purpose are completely different. While the Joker described himself as “an agent of chaos,” Bane claims to be a member of the League of Shadows, planning to fulfill the legacy of Ra’s al Ghul with the destruction of Gotham. Many people complained about Bane’s voice, which is amplified through his mask, stating that it was hard to understand. I didn’t have a problem with it, and admired Tom Hardy’s ability to sell his performance through body language.

Another new character this time is Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), known in past stories as Catwoman. We never hear that nickname in this film. As Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) researches her past, he runs across newspaper articles that reference “The Cat” and “Cat Burglar.” She has a pair of eyepieces/goggles that flip up onto her head and look a bit like cat ears, but that’s it. No whip, no kinky undercurrent. But she does have blades hidden in her high-heeled boots. She’s a very competent criminal, yet even she ends up needing to be rescued by Batman. He can see her potential for good, and makes an appeal to her better nature. How her personal journey impacts events late in the film is exciting.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt joins the cast as John Blake, an orphan who has grown up to be a member of the Gotham police force. Blake is as good as Bane is evil; he remains honest and brave and always tries to do the right thing. His persistence wins the approval of Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), who makes Blake a detective and tasks him with finding Bane and learning the villain’s plan. Blake is also the only person who figures out that Bruce Wayne is Batman. There’s a thrilling moment when Batman comes to his rescue, and I love the look of excitement on Blake’s face as he gets to see his hero in action.

The other new character worth mentioning is Miranda Tate, played by Marion Cotillard. She is a member of the board of Wayne Enterprises, with a professional interest in the company’s clean energy project, and a personal interest in Bruce Wayne. When one of Bane’s schemes wipes out Bruce’s fortune, Miranda is brought in by Bruce and Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) in an attempt to save the company.

As I mentioned earlier, The Dark Knight Rises takes place eight years later than the previous film. Crime in Gotham is now (seemingly) under control. No one has seen Batman in all that time, and Bruce Wayne has become a recluse. After the decision agreed upon by Jim Gordon and Batman, Harvey Dent’s behavior as “Harvey Two-Face” has been kept a secret, with Batman believed to be Dent’s killer. Many criminals have been imprisoned under the Harvey Dent Act. But Bane is able to expose the truth, release the criminals, and use a nuclear bomb to hold the entire city hostage. Within months Gotham becomes a moral wasteland.

Many of the earlier scenes in the film seem a bit convoluted at first, but make more sense as things go along. Through events I won’t describe, Bane is able to wipe out Bruce Wayne’s finances, trap the majority of Gotham’s police force below ground, and exile Bruce to a prison that Bane had previously inhabited. While Bruce is in the prison, he is able to watch on a television as Bane terrorizes the people of Gotham.

Just as pivotal is what happens to the relationship between Bruce and Alfred (Michael Caine). In reaction to the actions of Bane, Bruce decides to re-appear as Batman, even though Alfred thinks it’s a mistake. He argues that Batman isn’t needed any more, but that what the people of Gotham need are Bruce’s knowledge and resources. (I completely understand Alfred’s point, but I was pretty delighted to see Batman again.) In a sad and surprisingly quiet scene, Alfred reveals to Bruce how he burned a letter from Rachel in which she declared her choice of Harvey Dent over Bruce. This becomes the breaking point in their relationship, and Alfred leaves.

The Dark Knight Rises is the longest film in the trilogy, which is fine, because it covers the longest period of time. Bane’s control of Gotham lasts for months, and Bruce needs the time in exile to recuperate. He also has unexpected lessons to learn before he is ready to reclaim his mantle as Batman. The scene where he escapes from his prison is wonderful, with Hans Zimmer’s music building to a powerful return of the Batman theme, and the return of Batman to Gotham.

Back in Gotham, Gordon and Blake and the few police officers not trapped underground are attempting to track the nuclear bomb in the hope of disarming it. What most of the population doesn’t know is that it will inevitably detonate after its core deteriorates over time. Lucius supplies them with a way to stop the bad guys from detonating the bomb prematurely, but they still have to figure out a way to get rid of it. The ticking time-bomb element of the story brings a lot of urgency to the final scenes.

Batman succeeds in freeing the police force, and it’s neat to see how his presence inspires them in their fight against Bane and his men. Batman has always had a good effect on people who are good. The final showdown begins as a mess of hand-to-hand combat, with Batman and Bane finally duking it out. The action builds to one of the most effective chase scenes I’ve ever experienced. While Batman flies in “the Bat,” his latest gadget from Lucius, Selina is on the ground with the Batpod, driving it with as much skill as Batman. In past iterations of the Batman legend, Selina was always tempted by her good side, and it’s an awesome payoff in this film to see her fighting as a good guy.

My quibbles with the final film in the trilogy are few, the major one being that I think Bane is brushed aside much too easily. Once it’s revealed that Bane is merely the front man for the “real” villain, it makes sense that his importance to the story has been significantly reduced. But it left me a touch unsatisfied. Since Bane was such an important and effective character throughout so much of the film, it’s too bad they didn’t give him a better sendoff, so to speak.

Well, enough of the plot descriptions. Thinking back over the entire trilogy, there’s an interesting visual metaphor to accompany the title of The Dark Knight Rises. Not only of Bruce climbing out of an abandoned well as a child or climbing from his exile in prison. Throughout the trilogy we see more and more scenes in daylight. Much of Batman Begins was shot in shadows to hide the deficiencies of the original Batman costume. When the costume was re-designed for The Dark Knight, there was no longer any need to shoot Batman’s scenes only at night. The final battle of The Dark Knight Rises takes place in the morning light. By that point in the story, not only has Batman risen to his highest potential as the hero of Gotham, but he has allowed its citizens to re-awaken their better natures and start over.

I also like that there’s a subtle through-line of Batman saving children. In Batman Begins he rescues Rachel and a young boy she’s trying to protect; in The Dark Knight he rescues Gordon’s son; in The Dark Knight Rises he has Blake attempting to rescue a busload of orphaned boys. The boys (helped by Hans Zimmer’s music) provide a nice moment near the end when they realize that Batman has saved them.

So the final film ties up all the loose ends in a way that I found extremely satisfying. As I mentioned before, though, some of the characters’ stories have intriguing possibilities. I walked away with a feeling of conclusion. Christopher Nolan and his entire team, from the actors to the crew, have taken a character that already resonated with me and struck just the right chord. There will probably be other versions of the Batman legend in the future, and some people will probably prefer other versions to this one. But the Dark Knight Trilogy presents the Batman I always imagined and longed to see.

Roger Ebert (1942 - 2013)

Roger Ebert, film critic and author, has died.  Not long ago he revealed in a blog entry that a fracture had been found in his hip, and since then others have stepped in to help write reviews for his website as his ability to work was hindered.  His final blog entry, a mere two days before he died, outlined future plans for his writing, his website, his film festival, the involvement of fellow critics, and even a bio-documentary.  It stated that his hip fracture had been revealed to be a cancer.  With so many plans ahead, his death came as a shock.

I’m not writing this blog entry to serve as an obituary, but as an explanation of why I admire Roger Ebert.  Maybe it’s also a way for me to deal with the sudden reality of his death.

I remember seeing Siskel & Ebert At the Movies on TV when I was young.  I was too young to understand film criticism, and just couldn’t understand what those guys were always arguing about.  It simply didn’t make sense to me . . . at the time.

Fast-forward to my teenage years.  I was often found in the “arts” section of the local library.  (It’s been a pattern for me to find this section in every library or bookstore I visit.)  One day I spotted a book called Roger Ebert’s Video Companion.  I instantly recognized who he was and realized that I had never read much in the way of movie reviews.  As I glanced through the book, which was good and thick, I recognized the titles of many movies I had seen and many more I was interested in.  I decided to check the book out and see what it had to offer.

I felt an instant connection to his writing style.  It was personal, easily accessible and intellectual at the same time.  He was obviously well-read, experienced, observant, and extremely knowledgeable about film.  But he never condescended.  All he did was write of his experience watching a film, what he thought was good or bad about it, and that was that.  I was surprised how his writing could inspire me to watch a movie I’d never seen, and to see things in movies I thought I was familiar with.  What really caught my attention was how I could understand his point of view, even if I disagreed.  Slowly my respect began to grow.

I read that book from cover to cover.  It was hundreds of pages long, filled with reviews, interviews and essays, so it took a while to get through it.  By the time I finished I was already a fan.  From then on, I read every review Roger Ebert wrote that I could get my hands on.  One of my happiest memories in a bookstore was the day I bought Roger Ebert’s Video Companion 1997 Edition.  It was a newer edition of the same book I had discovered in the library, it was profoundly thick, and I read every word.

Roger’s reviews taught me a new way of watching movies, a more personal way.  They taught me what to watch for, what was trite and overdone, what made a story weak or powerful.  His reviews are well-written, displaying a sharp wit, and feature numerous anecdotes from his personal life.  Anyone who has read so much of his work could not help but feel that they knew him in some small way.

Over the years I’ve collected Roger Ebert’s Movie Yearbook, and other books that he has written, including his Great Movies collections.  I’m an avid follower of his website.  I’ve regularly read the reviews of other film critics, but Roger Ebert is the one I respect the most.  As I stated before, even if I didn’t agree with him, I knew where he was coming from.  Other critics and writers are not always blessed with such clarity.

In 2006, after a scary bout with cancer, he lost his ability to speak, drink, and eat.  A year or two went by without any new movie reviews.  When he returned to his writing, though, he did so with a vengeance.  He had lost the ability to speak with his voice, but his voice in writing and on the internet seemed to pour out of him.  His output was staggering.  Not only did he review more movies than ever before, but he also created a blog, Roger Ebert’s Journal, and became one of the most followed members of Twitter.  His blog became a more personal outlet, where he wrote of his life and family, his beliefs and experiences.

In his final year, at the age of 70, Mr. Ebert saw more movies than he ever had in a single year.  Health complications that would justify slowing down didn’t seem to affect his work.  But they finally caught up to him.

My blog is a direct result of my respect and admiration for Roger Ebert, not only as a critic and writer, but as a human being.  There are a few movies about which I’ve never written because his reviews are so powerfully imprinted on my mind.  I have to make a conscious decision not to quote him every time I write.  His reviews radiate a kind of joy in watching movies, and reflect the wisdom gained in life experiences that influenced his point of view.

Now there will be no more new Ebert reviews to look forward to.  I suspect that a couple more books might be published, but we’ll have to wait and see.  In the meantime, I can look at my bookshelves and see thousands of pages of writing that have influenced me, not only how I watch movies, but how I write, and have introduced me to countless movies and books I might have otherwise missed.  Roger Ebert’s work added to my life, and I will be forever grateful.

Here are the last words of his final blog entry, written so soon before his death, which now seem strangely appropriate: “So on this day of reflection I say again, thank you for going on this journey with me.  I’ll see you at the movies.”

As I continue my own journey as a moviegoer, and a lover of the arts and stories that are well-told, I’ll take him with me as my teacher and my friend.