Cultural Insanity

[Deleted]

Masks and Makeup


Batman
(1989 / directed by Tim Burton)

★★★

If only I didn't have to start a review of this film having to discuss Christopher Nolan. Much as I want to be a fair and kind judge, and blame probably belongs squarely on the fans for deciding to rage against Burton (for no good reason, mind you) after their precious little minds were blown by Batman Begins and The Dark Knight (neither of which I give a shit about, frankly)... somebody's head is going to roll for the incredible amount of guff these films have been forced to take over the past 5 or so years now. I'm set to re-watch (and maybe review) his name-making / game-making film, Memento, soon. But, at this point, I'm even willing to extend an olive branch to Joel Schumacher's hilariously daffy, campy, and, in some respects, homoerotic installments (both of which it's been at least a decade since I've last seen). Because I never have viewed Batman as something that should be dire in tone and realistic in style, beyond the groundbreaking animated television series which aired on Fox! Kids in the mid-90's. Truthfully, that series was as deeply probing of the story and its' characters as I believe anyone could ever require. Anything else is, and I believe this applies directly to Nolan's films, merely posing as social commentary of our current void times because that's what's been passing as "glama"rous in the last 7 or so years. Directors haven't been this collectively ego-driven in a long time, and thus far (a path again corrupted by what the films' fans have turned the nature of discourse into)- the only compliment I can toss back to Nolan is that at least he isn't Rob Zombie.

If a viewer wants to say that this is not the kind of Batman movie they wanted, fine. If they found the hero of this film has nothing to fight for or the city he's fighting for is not really worth it, leading them to view this film as an inferior hero / superhero / thriller / action film... they'd have a very good point. In fact, they more than deserve their day in court. Because I've always viewed it as something greater. As something closer resembling... and, is anyone shocked by this at all: a horror film (only the tone really argues the film is an action-thriller, a little work on that music score and suddenly the film's gothic qualities take on a whole other meaning). There is certainly a richness of horror influence in all of Burton's films from the 80's through the 90's. Batman's world is more than just artificial, the citizens of Gotham are paper-thin and unbelievable. In one sense, this Gotham City is portrayed as just a scummy place where morality, etc(.) has fallen into disrepair / irreparable decline. Making its inhabitants extremely sheepish and vacuous, much like a real life crowd. In turn, making them a sort of wide open victim pool and ideal ground for the Joker to play on. Their greed and vanity linking them closely to his inevitable fate. No, the film doesn't see this that heavily but the point is partly that everyone's a scumbag and so, the city itself is pretty damn filthy. Even the cultured museum and most of Bruce Wayne's manor are extremely unpleasent looking, harsh, dirty, and unwarm. For dramatic purposes, very few characters are given any sort of gentle, sweet, or depthful attributes. Transforming Gotham further into a severe, powerfully unique cartoon world. Where people are stiff but anything can still happen to them.

Which brings us to the purple elephant in the room... : '89 Joker. But, screw anyone who doesn't think this Joker is the superior. This Joker has style. Real style. And not in doses by any measure small. Watching this guy perform (I choose that word, of course, because of how much he looks like a clown) is a real true cinematic treat (and I actually hate that word but, in certain cases it really lives up to its' meaning). From his endlessly quotable, morbid, classic (and very funny) dialogue to his anarchic methodology, Burton's Joker is the pure definition of psychotic. But, better than that, he's just damn brilliant. He takes infinite creative license and considers what he does art. Not merely crime. I'm talking: homicide. And he makes art out of it. Tell me you've seen that before, outside of a horror film (Argento's Tenebre comes to mind). I admire this character. For the entertainment value he provides, which is off the charts. For whatever writing process was able to bring us such an unforgettable, dynamic cinematic villain. And for whoever in Hollywood approved something this impressively eccentric. The film has been accused of style over substance but, many people merely haven't heard of substance through style. Some murderous characters are just killers. But some killers can be much more. The key word here is: set piece. They don't always serve a larger narrative purpose, but... an extraordinary amount of great cinema often doesn't either. And yet, the set pieces here (the museum scene being the biggest and most fun) don't betray character. They make it more interesting, as well as the film for doing something I can say I've never seen before. But, again until we really map this out, I'm willing to give the fools a doubt benefit- they think Heath Ledger's Joker is the only intimidating film adaptation Joker. Does Nicholson's Joker have menace?

Let me put it to you this way... are you not freaking scared by those huge fucking balloons riding through the middle of the city spewing toxic gas all over the place? That's the film's great nightmare scenario. But, mined for exquisite dark gold is his scheme to wreak havoc on the citizens of Gotham by mixing various toxins in hygene products that when combined will poison (kill) them. The scene in the television studio is nothing short of masterpiece quality and tower-level chaos, which I know I want to see coming from a superhero's nemesis. And just the sort of thing no other director would have the guts to do. Perhaps even more shocking is that a major Hollywood studio decided to greenlight the movie as-this-is. Taking risks is important to me when the movie can do so inventively and if this isn't that, I'll eat my shoes (the really old ones). More essential here is that we really watch a news anchor fall to her death on camera and when the camera finally pushes in for a closer look- what we see is extraordinarily ghastly (for its' time). For a film basically marketed to families, it's amazing to see how little the final product was reigned in. The imagery of the film is frequently downright macabre- the best example being what the Joker turns his ex-lover, luscious Texan model Jeri Hall, into (after she warns him what wacked out crime boss Jack Palance would do to them if he found out she was cheating on him): zombie-pale faced, acid skin-scarred death model similar to the "Love That Joker" girls from his fascinatingly sick TV commercial. For my money- the only real burden the Joker places on the film is the fact that Jack Nicholson had played extremely over-the-top roles previously in The Shining and The Witches of Eastwick. Face it, doubters: in a world as highly stylized as this one though, Nicholson's Joker fits in perfectly.

But, can fans of the comic tolerate a film that doesn't care about the comic at all? Well, if there's any dilemma I personally face from this whole thing - and I should be able to put myself out there, challenge myself to some degree - it's that I was definitely nothing close to being a fan of what Burton did to the 1971 adaptation of (Charlie) Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. But I was still excited back in '05 to see his take on it and did give him a chance, and when it came out- I did criticize the film for the same things I would have a problem with had anyone made it...yet had chosen to update nothing more than the musical numbers and, maybe, some of the dialogue to something that would look more technically impressive in the new millennium. This was a clearcut case of soulless Hollywood throwing out whatever and not caring because: at least it was expensive, and people will eat up anything so long as it costs a lot (there's enormous evidence to back that up). I didn't feel there were any actual artists behind it. Yet, it was Tim Burton in creative control and if he can't make it dark- what's the point? The original film was darker. The source material was darker. I guess he was just sick of the backlash from critics over the violence in his films from 1989 to 1992. In fact, if you saw this as a child- you might have forgotten that there is legitimate gore in some spots (Batman deflecting the Joker's bullet and it hitting him in the face).

Part of what makes substance through style work is timelessness. And I believe this film is something close to being entirely nostalgia-free, if you factor out the advertising campaign (Coca-Cola tv spots and Bugs Bunny pushing lousy Batman merchandise) and Prince's contributions to the soundtrack. Though not totally flawless, the film definitely has a strength with characters. Some people don't even argue against this aspect of it, though many have tried to criticize Vicky Vale's tastefully ambitious, visionary photographer as being nothing more than a damsel in distress. To that, I say some people overuse that phrase. What constitutes a woman having an active or decent role in a story? In this film, everything about her may be either tied to Batman or the Joker but even a late '80s hero/superhero movie is doomed to be a little old fashioned. In terms of her being an interesting character, she does have an interesting role in tapping into the film's philosophy to challenge Batman (mainly- that the world doesn't have to be perfect for them to have a relationship). And her relationship with reporter Knox has a great bother-sister quality to it, though he hits on her repeatedly (for me, this makes him much more charming than he might have been on his own). If I can actually pony up anything negative to say about her, it would be that Kim Basinger's makeup and hair suck. She looks terrible, plain, and older than she needs to.

Call it purely style if you want, but you'll never convince me this still wonderful and surprisingly dark film has no substance. The action wows me, the characters are compelling (even if Batman doesn't have the largest role in "his own" movie), and... most importantly: it's art. Filmmaking should always try to be artistic. I think some fans would rather it be much more like a book onscreen.

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Face to Face


Batman Returns
(1992 / directed by Tim Burton)

★★½

So... it's kind of true that you have to walk quite far to find a significantly, stellarly glowing review of Tim Burton's Batmans these days. Even from people who believe Burton was ever a truly great filmmaker (these are also becoming increasingly difficult to find). I think I was finally spurred to look back on the films now after sitting through a good 10 reviews of the franchise in its' entirety (with the exception of the 3rd Nolan film, which doesn't even exist to me). And one review claimed that Burton's films were good with creating characters and bad with placing them in scenes where things actually happened. This was completely untrue of the original 1989 film, and viewers just look back on it perplexed because they can't believe the horror of what the villain was doing was treated as perhaps more important to examine onscreen than the hero's plans/actions to stop him. Then came the sequel and... I think it's here where naysayers and their complaints begin to become harder to ignore. Why? Because an extraordinary amount of Returns is a process of going through the motions. In terms of action and, especially, in terms of characters. With the exception of one spectacularly dynamic character (and I think we all know who that is), a few others get One Classic Moment and the rest are even more soulless than Harvey Dent and Commissioner Gordon were in the previous film.

Is there something inherently right with how dank and nasty the film still is, given that it's Christmas and so many people are lonely and much less happy than any other time of the year? Maybe. The film skews its chance to really go after commercialism (always a good target) and stays on the course of portraying the people of Gotham as the least interesting mass gathering of schmoes in the history of film. Returns definitely has some political aspirations, and I can't say it doesn't deftly tap right into the heart of 1992, 12 years of blood-sucking Republicans, and the frozen climate of the world they created. If only the film could bring itself to show the people underneath them struggling. The most we get is a lot of crime and we have to assume that's proof of the damage people like Max Shrek have been doing. As for the citizens, we only see the window dressers, the model shoppers with bags by the armful, street chatters in fashionable business attire. In that respect, 1988's Scrooged was far more effective in showing you who the rulers of Christmas and advertising were effecting. Furthermore, Shrek has one characteristic that almost makes him something of a saving grace to the film. The original Batman was much more about how visionary the characters were. Good guys and bad guys alike. In this film, Shrek's the only one who tries to get other people to think big, live for their ideals, have fantasies and... you don't much buy that anyone else is into it. Though the story rests upon The Penguin's use of this to dream himself at a higher station, get others to respect him, etc. I'm not sure this is something we really feel come to full life.

Speaking of the social order of things- yeah, those citizens of Gotham haven't gotten any smarter. I doubt it's a stretch to say that they're being used to make a statement about how the world views people like The Penguin and how that might actually be turned around. One moment it really looks like the public embrace him with open arms, but both of Burton's films deal with how people who are different have to hide. Much of that being because of the way society treats those who are different. So, this is a matter of: did a victim of society abuse the people's trust or did they deserve what they got because they're so stupidly over-trusting (there's more to why they would be than the fact that they are)? Of course, this is sort of a question for a movie where the crowds of people are treated as human rather than Poster People. Or bobbleheads in commercials (yes, I said the film lacked criticism of commercialism but that doesn't apply to the portrayal of the townspeople). Technically, it matters little how the film deals with society shunning people because you'll relate to a compellingly well-written emotionally scarred character regardless of where the story places them. The film spends barely more time on its' politics. Nevertheless, it allows us to have fun with The Penguin in this arena. It may surprise you to learn the screenplay with written by none other than Heathers' mastermind, Daniel Waters. Satirically, the film aims for 2 targets: megalomaniacal tyrants (hit) and sexual anxieties of poor-me guys who can't get any (miss). Let's ignore the latter (forever) and on the former, I'll say briefly that power corrupting rarely works dramatically. Which is why it basically works here.

Most of the time, the film is trying too hard and what it's doing has simply already been done or, Burton & co. are about to do- The Nightmare Before Christmas. The cinematography and art direction does less than you might be expecting after the likes of Beetlejuice (what it does particularly well revolves around the Christmas theme), some of it coasting directly off Burton's previous films (the above ground Zoo pans are a true lowpoint after the snowfallen topiary wonderland of Edward Scissorhands). Or, other period films Hollywood was kicking around at that time such as Newsies, Dick Tracy, or Oscar to name a few. The film still tries to be dark and playful, but it really feels like it's tickling a bone (literally, in the case of Danny Elfman's music score) that doesn't have the energy anymore. The entire film suffers from a considerable lethargy. In a way, the violence is all that really crosses the border into subversion. As an action film, even I can't defend these fight scenes with the film's embarrassingly goofy and pointless Red Triangle gang. But, in scenes with The Penguin, this sequel still has a slightly invigoratingly dark and enjoyable horror-oriented streak. He gets to bite people until they bleed, toss around dead severed hands, and is even given a few classic quotes: "they wouldn't put me on a pedestal, so I'm layin' 'em on a slab!!" being the best. The performances are mostly uneven as well. With the characters - including the villains - now being far more open, vulnerable, and sad than before, it's amusing how often The Penguin is made into Joker Part 2. With his more human side, he's able to drum up a little sympathy. As the leader of the film's crime syndicate, he's just: Creature in Rubber/Pillow Suit and Makeup. The film proves it has room for only one really good tragic villain.

And, unless you live under a rock, you immediately know that villain is Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman. For its' time, the ultimate good girl becomes bad girl revenge fantasy. Which, since I did, I believe any person who's always wanted to rage against someone or something but had previously lived the existence of the quiet or weak/meager one in a crowd can relate to. In fact, Pfeiffer might walk away from this film winning best performance of the entire franchise. And most important, given its' dramatic achievements and dimensions. As a group, Tim Burton's films are already the most important within the franchise because of their extremely personal take on the characters being outsiders and the believable pain of their transitions from victims to either heroes or villains, all of whom also at one point or another circle back around into victims. Regardless of the films' flaws, Burton's villains bring real tragedy, sorrow, and - in this film most fervently - abandonment to the screen. Except for Shrek. But he's also a big reason Selena Kyle's leather-suited woman warrior exists. Though thankfully, not the only one. A key scene making a big argument rolled into a very small gesture is when she first emerges as Catwoman, to "save" a woman who basically fits the lifestyle portrait of a woman described to her over the telephone for a schmaltzy perfume ad. Part of her is raging over more than just a man.

In the end, the film has many good points even if it's just not as good as the first. For not being afraid to haul out a lot of deep stuff inside that we don't often like to look at. But, also it does grapple with issues of vigilanteism, feminist hypocrisy (rare though it may be), and economic / political failures. And you feel for the villains, I make this statement because it's not always easy to believe. Such is the case when one of the gang members mentions to The Penguin that killing the sleeping children is awfully cruel. Taking out what happened to him - a once innocent child, driven to what he's done because of the cruelty of his parents upon him - to a whole host of the city's guiltless children. As well as his adorable army of penguins. Barring the human-sized penguins... which are not cute at all.