Recently, I rewatched the third Christopher Nolan Batman film. I really like Nolan’s take on the mythos. But controversy is something I don’t mind courting, so, for full disclosure, I will admit that I also think Ben Affleck makes a good Batman. I was never convinced by Michael Keaton’s turn as Bruce Wayne. That’s not to say there isn’t a lot to like in the two Tim Burton Batman movies. For instance, I love everything about William Hootkins’s character, and all of his interactions with Jack Nicholson are superb. The scene when the Joker gets his famous smile is wonderfully macabre, creepy, and completely unsanitary. I love the Batmobile.

            There are also a number of things I don’t like. I suppose first is how half of Gotham looks like it was designed by Dr. Seuss on crack. What’s with all that piping? It’s silly. Batman shouldn’t have silliness in it. There was enough of that in the old TV show (which had its own virtues). I imagine there are films Robert Wuhl should appear in. A Batman film is not one of them. I’m not crazy about Kim Basinger given not much more to do than look voluptuous. She’s a talented actress. This film makes it easy to forget that since it only focuses on her as an object of male sexual desire. I’m also not crazy about the music that Prince cranked out for the film. I’m unconvinced by its sincerity – in that it seems to have none.

            Perhaps the point in the film where I squirm the most is at Keaton’s line when he brandishes the fireplace poker: “You wanna get nuts? C’mon, let’s get nuts!” Everything about the scene is unnecessary, the acting is wrong, and what was even the point? Was it meant to suggest that Batman really was a bit off his rocker? If so, wouldn’t we expect him to act nuts instead of talking about being nuts? I don’t think Keaton liked the line. His heart doesn’t seem into it. It’s too stagey to be meant as Bruce Wayne’s genuine anger.
            Many dramas have a face-off between the protagonist and antagonist somewhat early in the work. But this confrontation between Wayne and the Joker is awkward and poorly handled. I suppose the audience is meant to heave a sigh of relief that the Joker didn’t recognize that Wayne is Batman. That, however, is not how the scene is set up. It is almost set up that way. Wayne tells the Joker, “I know who you are.” That could suggest the more dramatic opposite – that the Joker knows who Wayne really is. Yet there is no indication that Burton wanted to audience to conclude that, despite the fact that the Joker does refer to Wayne as his “prey.” Apparently, we are meant to see Batman’s resourcefulness in this scene. Vicky Vale discovers the tray that has stopped the Joker’s bullet. When Wayne supposedly got that under his coat is unclear. What I felt in the scene was that we weren’t seeing Batman in this scene. He was being played by Michael Keaton as Michael Keaton in so many other films. Films such as Night Shift, Johnny Dangerously, Gung Ho, Mr. Mom. All of the gestures and movements are recognizably Keaton’s own. He’s not inhabiting a character. He’s being himself on camera, which is out of sync with other scenes in which he’s clearly moving in a way that portrays Bruce Wayne, billionaire genius.

            This all happens at 1 hour, 24 minutes, give or take. Out of a film that runs just over two hours. It ought to be a confrontation between the principals. As such it feels like a misfire.

            A far more satisfying confrontation in the movie is when Batman rescues Vale. This scene ends with the lovely line, “Where does he get those wonderful toys?”

            I won’t even comment on the parade scene when the Joker gratuitously shoots Bob and then brings down the Batjet.

            Let’s skip to the finale, since that’s what I began this with. The Joker and Batman finally are going to fight. We’ve been waiting all night for this contest. It’s a fight to the death. And it can’t be too easily won for our hero. I think all of the actual combat is great. It doesn’t go on too long. It’s fun. Sometimes it’s even funny – which is fitting since we’re fighting a middle-aged clown who is, after all, quite insane.

            My real issue is that the Joker dies. And it’s how he dies. It happens at a distance. The combat is not face-to-face, where I think the Big Finish needs to be. When the villain gets his, the hero should be looking in his eye. The knife should go in with some crunching of bones. I’m not sure how many blockbusters end this way. If any. Excalibur more than doubled its budget, but isn’t considered a blockbuster. The final fight there is perfect. It reflects exactly what I mean. I’m not sure how many final showdowns end in an up-close and personal way. Dirty Harry had opponents who could see each other. The Outlaw Josey Wales has a good ending. The bastard finally meets his end with a saber to the midsection.

            When Vincent Regan’s character meets his fate, he’s off camera. Guy Pierce’s character Snow has left him on the satellite prison, which then explodes. That pretty much stands for all I think shouldn’t happen in the Big Finish. Can we say “damp squib”?

            Thanos has not one but two deaths in Endgame. The final death fairly satisfying, though the vicious bastard should have screamed in pain. Really, he should have gone out like Rumpelstiltskin.

            The finale should be slightly drawn out and emotional. What I don’t understand is when directors bunt when they could have gone for a homer. (And I don’t even like baseball!) But let’s face it, when Bane dies it happens in a flash, he is dead instantly, never saw it coming, never suffered. This feels very unsatisfactory on moral grounds. The bad should be made to pay for their sins. Burton seemed to want to have it both ways with his Joker’s death. It happens far from us. Then there is the laughing toy, which seems to suggest that there is still life in our flamboyant and irrepressible villain. But, no, the Joker is dead. This is his inaugural confrontation with Batman, his first real caper, and he’s been foiled forever.

            In terms of preceding Batman lore and mythology, this is very upsetting to the audience. We know the Joker isn’t dead. Batman is always dueling the Joker. It’s their destiny to be forever locked in combat. They are a kind of imperfect Yin and Yang. It’s also more than just disappointing that the Joker dies at a great distance from Batman. If he ever should meet his fate, it needs to be face to face. Beowulf had one hand burnt to a cinder and he finishes the dragon with a knife that slices down its belly. That’s personal.

            Probably my favorite final battle is between Aeneas and Turnus. Aeneas stands over the defeated Turnus, who begs for his life out of respect to his father. This is replaying the Iliad. And we expect the Roman, with all his self-control, to act with magnanimity, clemency. Not only would this be the avowed values of the Romans, it was actually how the Greeks liked to think of themselves – rational and in control. The Spartans were disciplined and silent. They weren’t berserkers. It’s almost overdetermined from everything in the Aeneid that Aeneas will spare Turnus. It goes against all that has come before. But Vergil prepares us for the shock with some hints. Aeneas stood (stetit) acer in armis. Acer has a lot of gradations. There’s positive and negative. We aren’t really sure how we must take it until we get to the next line: volvens oculos. Eyes rolling – a sure sign of someone caught in a frenzy. That means we have to take acer to mean something very violent, furious. But Vergil teases us because the line ends the way it should when you are talking about a good Roman: dextramque repressit. His sword hand may be itching and twitching, but he is repressing it.

            Cut to the chase: fervidus Aeneas – the adjective again shows that Aeneas has lost control of his rage – “sank his sword into his enemy’s breast.” Turnus dies with a groan and his spirit flies off to a cold hell. It’s a great scene. It terminates very abruptly. Scholars that want to see the end of the poem as a fulfilment of justice skate around the words: fervidus, volvens oculos, (the saevi feels like a transferred epithet for monimenta) and furiis accensus et ira

terribilis “burning with fury and terrible rage” makes Aeneas sound a lot like Achilles. The implication to me is pretty clear. We get a VERY dramatic conclusion, but we also get to feel some ambivalence about the uses of violence and how it always tends toward chaos and insanity. It is never terribly conducive to building stability and harmony. Instead, it looks like more blood vendetta. And that’s why it’s my favorite Big Finish.