Batman (1989)

There is no denying that Tim Burton’s Batman is a marvel of art and set design, and if nothing else, quite the piece of eye candy. However, while the story-line is functional enough to still be quite entertaining, Burton’s film occasionally has the ramshackle appearance of not being a fully finished product, with a script that barely holds its story together, a few substantial holes in the logic of its plot and motivations of the characters, and, from an editing standpoint, continuity errors galore. Batman does manage to maintain a semblance of a solid form for the first hour, logic be damned, before jettisoning all attempts at being even tangentially grounded, and threatening to fall apart into utter ridiculousness long before the preposterous finale atop a large building with a bell-tower.  Nevertheless, despite its story-telling flaws, as a piece of cinema, it is still a compelling and mesmerizing experience just taking it in as a semi-surreal oddity that would turn into a cultural phenomenon in 1989. 

Like the comic of its origins, Batman is set in the bleak metropolis of Gotham City, where police corruption by the underground crime syndicate runs rampant, causing a costumed vigilante to stalk the streets scaring the bejesus out of thugs, all the while dressed as a bat. A couple of reporters attempt to cover the masked phenomenon and uncover who the bat-man is, but a new crime lord has emerged in the form of The Joker (Nicholson, Prizzi’s Honor), a former syndicate henchman who was disfigured and discolored in an accidental run-in with Batman (Keaton, Beetlejuice) . The Joker loses the feeble hold he has on his sanity, terrorizing the city of Gotham with only his arch-nemesis Batman out to stop him.

Much hay had been kicked up at the time of the film’s production about the casting of mostly comedic actor Michael Keaton in the lead role of Batman, as audiences before had not perceived of him as particularly menacing, imposing, or physically adept enough to handle fight choreography.  Tens of thousands of letters of protest flooded Warner Bros’ in the months leading up to the film’s release due to Keaton’s casting as the hero.  (One can only wonder how much Burton’s consideration of Bill Murray might have been embraced.) All things considered, he’s fine, but not spectacular, in the role, lost under a thick rubber suit that could have been just about anyone underneath, while Keaton’s take on Bruce Wayne shows him to be a bit aloof and quirky, which is about all Keaton could really give to a role that is written so thinly.

For Joker, they wanted Jack Nicholson, but he was hesitant, leaving Warner Bros. to offer the role of the heavy to Robin Williams, who basically accepted, but as he was rearranging his schedule, they pressed Nicholson again claiming that Williams would take the part if he didn’t.  Nicholson agreed, leaving Williams was miffed to the point where he refused to be in any Warner Bros. film until they made amends, which they did by offering him the role of the Riddler for Batman Forever, though he bailed on that after the exodus of Burton and Keaton from the project.  Regardless of casting tactics, this is really Jack Nicholson’s movie to shine, playing the Joker, with a ready-made connection to the persona that he had been cultivating for the past decade of a man who can be pushed off of his rocker with just a little provocation.  Audiences love and expect Nicholson to come unhinged in a grand way, and the role certainly gives him a lot of room to roam with a manic, spirited, and colorful portrayal — no to dissimilar to a character Keaton portrayed in another Tim Burton film, Beetlejuice.  Nicholson would walk away the clear winner, not only from critics, but his contract stipulated 15-20% of the profits as his payment, which, all told, resulted in a staggering payday of around $50 million for the role.

In other casting decisions, Sean Young had been offered Vicki Vale, but was replaced by their original choice, Kim Basinger (9 1/2 Weeks), after a horse-riding accident left her out of commission.  Young would petition heavily to be in the sequel, Batman Returns, as Catwoman, but did not get any consideration.  Billy Dee Williams (Return of the Jedi) took the Harvey Dent role on the notion that he would play Two-Face in a sequel, but the producers bought him out in favor of Tommy Lee Jones for Batman Forever, though Williams would voice the character for the Lego Batman Movie.

The production design is like its own character, setting the mood with large, monolithic buildings and Gothic statues that dwarf the people of Gotham unto claustrophobic submission, sometimes evoking the eerie German Expressionism found within Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, with its symbolically onerous, inhumane notions of society crushed under more powerful forces.  Sunlight is rarely something that shines in this town, and even comical events feel more menacing than amusing, offering a stark contrast with the previous notion of Batman from within the highly campy and interminably silly television show from the 1960s, which itself spawned a theatrical picture in 1966, that still played incessantly on television in reruns throughout the 1980s leading up to the film’s release.

While many viewers will undoubtedly find Batman entertaining, even if it’s on a superficial level, when one actually tries to follow its plot, it can become a frustrating and eventually fruitless experience.  Perhaps it would have helped if the film had any rules. For instance, the Joker, attempting to buy off the citizens of Gotham’s support by throwing money at them, throws a parade with large gas-spewing floats that will kill all of those people in the crowds that have gathered. Batman counteracts with a Bat-plane, which, lo and behold, contains just the right tool to grab the cables controlling the floats, releasing the balloons. Then the Joker has just the right weapon to take down the Bat-plane, and so on. 

Then there is the issue of the intrepid reporters who seem to be completely in the dark much of the time.  It’s one thing to have no idea about the nature of the mythical “bat-man” that stalks the streets of Gotham City, but it’s a larger stretch to believe that they both are invited to the home of one of the wealthiest men in the city, and perhaps the world, in Bruce Wayne, and yet neither of them knows what he looks like when they appear at a party thrown in his mansion.

Batman is more like a live action cartoon than a recreation of the comic book — appropriate that a Warner Bros. production would result in a dark and twisted version of Looney Tunes.  It’s all presented in a very over-the-top fashion, but with its fantastic visuals and dynamic soundscape mix of Danny Elfman’s iconic score and Prince’s eerie pop-funk rhythms as the cherry on top, it’s a true treat for the eyes and the ears.  Prince’s “Batdance” would shoot to the top of the pop charts, more so because of the hype and fervor for the film than for the song, which, while catchy, is far from Prince at his best, and his involvement in the film came late into the conception of the film, and in great haste, with Burton less than comfortable in having to inject the songs into the film.  Michael Jackson was originally supposed to join Prince in making the songs for the soundtrack but was too busy to participate.

As far as thematic material one can draw from, it’s perhaps the most appropriate thing for a film in which style is clearly preferable to substance, for there to be lots of motifs about the nature of imagery as the most preferred trait.  Batman is trying to cultivate an image of formidable fear to drive out the criminal elements that run rampant over Gotham, yet has managed to steer clear of any would-be photographers who could bring the myth down to earth by making him a reality.  Joker, whose own image of a smiling buffoon is in stark contrast to the malevolent psychotic that lies within, wants to portray himself as the strongman underworld figure that all other mob bosses operating in town should kowtow to without much of a fight. Interestingly, both Batman and Joker see the value of trying to use the media to foster their own public image, with Batman doing his best to create his own shadowy persona that can’t be nailed down, while Joker, willing to embrace the cameras that Batman so actively avoids, is able to inject his own television transmissions directly to the citizens to unsettle the normalcy, showing that no one is safe, not even the pacifying images that people come to cherish in a city so full of terrible things going on outside their doors.

One of the Joker’s main terrorist acts upon Gothamites is through their beauty products that sustain their own personal image, which takes a tragic turn when his main squeeze, Alicia, who was Grissom’s gal, is subjected to losing her beauty to disfigurement in order for Joker to make the world as ugly as he is, both outwardly and in terms of the city’s morale.  Joker and his henchman foreshadowed this event by visiting a museum where they proceed to put their own stamp on great works of art with their graffiti.  He no longer fits in the world at large, so his mission is to change the world enough to fit in with him.

Bruce Wayne projects the image of the wealthy entrepreneur that he clearly doesn’t find personal value in other than for entertaining guests, and sees value in Vicki Vale, a beautiful woman that also doesn’t mind wearing eyeglasses and living less than fully fashionably in her off time as a news photographer who usually tries to capture others in their best lights.  it’s the fact that they see beyond the image to a certain search for truth underneath that binds them, with Wayne allowing his guard down to a successful news photographer who has to determine what is more important, the scoop or the man fighting for what’s right.

There is also the contrast between Bruce Wayne and Jack Napier, with the former creating a second personality that stems from an early tragedy, that, we come to learn, was caused by a younger Napier starting out as a lowly crook in Gotham.  Tragedy certainly also occurs to Napier when he is transformed into the Joker in a mishap he feels is caused directly by Batman (thus, meaning that they created each other, in a way), though his own psychological schism in his personality has him try to produce comedy out of causing tragedy for others, finding enjoyment in seeing the world around him suffering.  The difference, of course, is that one is a moral figure and the other an amoral one, and how they respond to their own tragedies results in what they try to do to their external environment, with Wayne wanting to clean up the cesspool that is Gotham through the ever-serious Batman, and Napier fully enveloped into his never-serious Joker persona to further sink the city onto the morass of depravity that justifies his twisted existence.

All of this falls into Tim Burton’s further explorations into society, and the tricky ways in which one’s physical appearance can affect one’s ability to be a welcome member of that society.  Bruce Wayne can walk into any social circle and be welcome, but the mask of Batman is needed to traverse the underworld of the criminals and outcasts that do their business under the cover of night, and to maintain that ability for Wayne to have freedom in the day.  Joker is horribly disfigured, so he’s feared as much outwardly for his appearance as he is for the twisted character revealed underneath.  Interestingly, when going out in public, Joker can apply make-up and clothing to cover up his freakish nature just enough, though he fully embraces the look when trying to affect his acts of terror.

In a way, Bruce Wayne is very much confined by his Batman persona, having to keep his life and ambition secret to everyone except his butler Alfred Pennyworth, because he needs to still be accepted as a normal member of society.  Joker, on the other hand, has no such restrictions, knowing that society will never fully accept him as one of their own, so he doesn’t have to try, and can even use that revulsion to further antagonize those that persist in shunning him.  Interestingly, in both cases, the possession of money can temper their very extreme behavior as acceptable and less psychotic than merely eccentric, with the police rife with corruption and the general public willing to trust Joker for free cash . Even Joker envies his enemy in Batman for the financial means for which he makes such “wonderful toys” for his arsenal of gadgets, and for his ability to to use his public image and those contraptions in order to control the media’s narrative to his ways.

I’m giving Batman a recommendation simply because it’s viscerally engaging, indelibly potent in atmosphere, explores some interesting psychological complexities, and does deliver a consistent level of entertainment, though it does often run counter to many of the criteria I deem as critical for a film to be truly good.  The story within the film itself suggests that crowds are captivated by a spectacle, and drawn to the mystique that shrouds the unknown, s the film itself draws you in with its production design and psychological portraits that occur without explicit explanation.  As Joker would marvel during the course of the film, even if Batman‘s means defy logic, we’re left with mouths agape at all of the wonderful toys employed in the process.

As Batman says early on in the film to one of his “prey” on the streets, “Tell all your friends about me.”  Tell they did, as it would go on to be the biggest film of 1989, and the fourth highest grossing film of the decade, only bested by E.T. and the two sequels to Star Wars. It would also be the first indicator that the movie-going public was willing, able, and quite ready to accept a darker and more adult take on characters who emerged from a medium that many had deemed as, “just for kids.”

Qwipster’s rating: B+

MPAA Rated: PG-13 for violence, some language, and sensuality
Running Time: 126 min.

Cast: Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson, Kim Basinger, Robert Wuhl, Michael Gough, Pat Hingle, Billy Dee Williams, Jack Palance, Jerry Hall
Director: Tim Burton
Screenplay: Sam Hamm, Warren Skaaren