Film Review - The Batman (15)

 I AM the shadows.

From Adam West's spandex avenger to Christian Bale's dark knight, there have been near innumerable screen iterations of Batman. The Ben Affleck version is still knocking around, for heaven's sake, so what need one more? Ask writer-director Matt Reeves, who within the past decade has already made The Planet of the Apes his own. Turns out he had designs on Gotham City too, and they were just as revolutionary. Which is good, because when you're rebooting a well-worn franchise again, it's nice to have a reason beyond locked-in ticket sales. Reeves did, and the results are impressive. Darkly so.

It's two years since Bruce Wayne, heir to his murdered parents' company, first assumed his bat alter-ego to become the scourge of Gotham's criminals. In daylight hours he's recluse rather than millionaire playboy, and at night he calls himself Vengeance, backing up the name with brutal efficiency. His relationship with the police is antagonistic, Lieutenant James Gordon his sole ally, while all others resent his vigilante interference. But when a riddling psychopath starts bumping off the city's great and not-so-good, leaving a trail of macabre clues, Wayne's analytical mind proves as invaluable as his kevlar-clad fist. Plus there's the fact that said clues are addressed specifically... 'To the Batman'.

Matt Reeves' screenplay digs into Batman's 80-year history, revitalising the character's image as a brilliant detective (he first spread his wings in a 1939 issue of Detective Comics after all), while recreating the raw, unconstrained anger and storylines of comic book sagas Year One and The Long Halloween. In cinematic terms the film is multi-layered. The characterisation of Batman reflects '40s film noir (although his booted feet hit the sidewalk more heavily than those of any Bogart-style gumshoe), with Selena Kyle/Catwoman channelling more than a little femme fatale. The investigative aspects and grimy city-scapes evoke the feel of '70s police procedurals like Chinatown and The French Connection. And this new Riddler, with his twisted justification of serial slaughter, reflects the obsessions of David Fincher in Se7en and Zodiac. The movie's major strength is that it's forged from these combined ingredients, and filters its superhero content through them, resulting in a Bat-tale for more than just fans.

It's there in every element of the design, and how it's shot. This Gotham isn't a faux kind of Gothic like Tim Burton's movies, but something far closer to reality, and embracing the physical darkness just as Nolan worked in stark daylight. This is a rain-obscured, neon-illuminated hell, where you almost have to squint at the screen to cut through the murk. (A good 80% of this movie is shot at night, and not the starry kind - this is pure oppressive gloom.) It makes you work that little bit harder and the nocturnal lighting, however creative, may be problematic for some. But it also puts you squarely in the moral and investigative headspace of the main character, as he negotiates the city's mob-ruled underworld along with its hopelessly corrupt civic institutions, all the while tracking down a grotesque and certifiable maniac. Oh and if you're in any doubt regarding the movie's dark-as-pitch nature, Michael Giacchino's magnificently doom-laden score will constantly remind you.

So what of Robert Pattinson's Bruce Wayne/Batman? Frankly it's time for the last of the ex Twilight vampire's critics to drop it. Pattinson sells this damaged antihero as convincingly as the character's punching arm metes out a concept of vengeance, making the most of his sparse word-count with sheer presence. There's chemistry too, and not just with Zoe Kravitz's sinuous, yet fully fleshed-out Catwoman (though their empathetic connection serves as a major plus). This Batman also has a terrific rapport with Jeffrey Wright's Lt. Gordon, while his Bruce-side demonstrates a more combative relationship than we're used to with butler and father figure Alfred (the ever-excellent Andy Serkis). And then there's the rogue's gallery. John Turturro adds seedy grace to mob kingpin Carmine Falcone, while the Penguin's prosthetic make-up disguise a certain A-list character actor (if you don't already know, see if you recognise him), but not the quality of his richly villainous performance. However it's Paul Dano as the Riddler who's most likely to stay with you - a creep-inducing study in mundane guy-next-door insanity, however brilliant in nature. The face-off between this murderous genius and his caped crusading nemesis comes late in the game - but when it finally happens, it's more than worth the wait.  

Comic-book movies can seem ten-a-penny in 2022 and while I'm a fan, Marvel and DC universes included, I get why the genre earns some high-profile detractors. The Batman, however, is a different kind of film. It joins the like of Logan and Joker in possessing a unique vision - Matt Reeves' from start to finish - that transcends genre while still paying homage to its source material. Those (like me) whose acquaintance with the Bat mythology is limited, will be surprised, while devotees are already largely loving it. But this is just as much a film for anyone who enjoy well-crafted storytelling cinema possessed of its own identity. I've no confidence that it will shake off its 'super-hero' tag during the 2023 award season, but it damn well should do. This most grounded of Batman features deserves some serious metaphorical wings.

Gut Reaction: Lots of leaning in, peering through obscurity to the story's dark heart - plus some genuine thrills, a tear courtesy of Andy Serkis, and a hand clasped to my head when one Batman leap goes shockingly wrong.

Memorable Moment: For all this film's investigative intrigue, it's the Batmobile's introduction that really got me. Driving in rain has never been so treacherous.

Ed's Verdict: 9/10. One or two questionable editing choices aside, this is terrific blockbuster cinema - slow-paced, thoughtful and daringly dark, and brought to the screen by someone who knows what story they're trying to tell. There'll be future visits to this grim, wet Gotham, of that there's zero doubt, and I (unlike the new Penguin) will have my umbrella at the ready. 

Film Review - The Power of the Dog (12A)

 He's just a man, Peter. Only another man.

Gist: Phil and George Burbank (Benedict Cumberbatch and Jesse Plemons) are well-heeled ranch owning brothers in 1920s Montana - Phil a grimy and uncultivated son of the range, and George his mild-mannered, soft-spoken opposite. The status quo of their working relationship is challenged when, on a cattle drive, George meets and falls for widowed inn owner Rose Gordon (Kirsten Dunst). Phil, however, takes an instant dislike to her, convinced that she's more interested in George's money than in him. His contempt is no less intense for Rose's son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who as a willowy and effeminate teenage boy is the antithesis of everything George and his fellow cattle-drivers hold to be masculine. George is actively antagonistic to the Roses, but surfaces belie unexpected depths in more than one of these closely entangled characters, taking them down a path that defies all prediction. 

Juice: Thirteen years have passed since Kiwi director Jane Campion's last feature film, and it took a near-forgotten Western novel by Thomas Savage to spur her into directorial action. It's not hard to see why. The Power of the Dog may lend itself to magnificently shot vistas reminiscent of the classic John Ford/John Wayne era, but aside from that this tale is more American Gothic in nature - a stately paced and dark human drama that peels away the layers of its characters' psyches till raw truth is laid bare. And it's not any truth you'd expect. Directed and shot with forensic expertise (Australian cinematographer Ari Wegner exhibits the same brilliance she showed in 2016's Lady Macbeth), these characters are scrutinised as deeply as the unforgiving landscape on which their fates play out. The quietly unsettling drama is complimented too by Jonny Greenwood's atonal, stripped-down music; he created an equally inspired score for last year's Spencer, but this one may just land the Radiohead maestro his much-deserved Oscar. 

Speaking of Oscars, all four of The Power of the Dog's key players are nominated in the acting categories. Plemon's understated gentleman rancher is up against Smit-McPhee's enigmatic youngster in the supporting actor category, while Dunst should run her supporting actress competitors a tight race as the compassionate but fragile Rose. And Cumberbatch, arguably surpassing all earlier work as his character's complexities are teased out, has perhaps the best shot at an award this fiercely contested year. He's sufficiently compelling in the movie's first act where Phil's macho charisma is pure antagonism, but even more so as the narrative bores deep into the rancher's calloused soul. 

Judgement: 9/10. Campion's atypical Western (settings in place, but genre-wise undercutting every Wild West trope you can think of) will be rather too slow-burn and alienating for some tastes, and that's fair enough. As meticulous drama that opts for psychological conflict over physical, and subtle character revelations over wilder plot-twists, this film will, however, win many fans. It's outstanding work from all involved, and deserves its crop of nominations. Plus, all dramatic subtleties aside, the ending packs quite the unexpected wallop. (Unless of course you get that cunning reference in the title. I should have, but I didn't.)