The Dark Knight, IMAX Edition

Two considerations before reading the following:

• I've never been to an IMAX theater before.
• I'm deathly afraid of heights.

Make that three considerations:

• Batman likes to jump off skyscrapers.

You can imagine the effect of sitting before a three-story, visually immersive—in the it occupies your entire field of vision sense—screen, watching a film whose resolution is ineffably crisp, and seeing this:

Now imagine a body violating the laws of anatomy as a stomach plummets and two testicles ascend, and you'll have a quaint approximation of the mortal dread I felt as Batman soared through the new, shinier Gotham in which The Dark Knight is set.  This sensation was repeated several times during the film, during both establishing shots and action sequences involving falling bodies and cords no thicker than a mouse cable.  But I don't mean this to be a technical review of a visceral experience.* 

To quote Wally, The Dark Knight is pure, unadulterated "YES."  If possible, Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker is underrated by the critical hype machine.  It is not one which will be unjustifiably memorialized on the heels of his tragic death, as I suspected, but a genuinely disturbing portrayal of a self-important agent of chaos.  If, like me, you were somewhat put off by the inconsistent voices and tics in the previews, let me ease your concerns: they pervade the film and are, in fact, the point.  The thing with his tongue that looks annoying in the trailers?  It is annoying, and it unsettles you throughout the film, and should, because Ledger wanted to annoy you.  He wanted for you to be mesmerized in disgust, and he pulled it off. 

In essence, I agree with Neurotopia, except for the part about the Joker never being funny.  As I mentioned there, the audience at my showing demonstrated a nuanced appreciation of humor—not at all what you would expect from a crowd of fanboys with painted faces.  The two moments in particular I'll relate in detail, because I can't ruin execution-dependent scenes. 

In the first, Ledger's Joker sits down and says "Hi."

In the second, he pushes a detonator and things blow up.  He looks disappointed, pushes the detonator again, and things blow up bigger.

Speaking actorly—I played Hamlet in 11th grade, in a performance notable for me stepping on Olphia's dress and her baring her breasts to an auditorium full of adolescent males, so I know of what I speak—the second scene could only be performed by someone with a deep understanding of physical comedy.  Chaplin's amble, Chico's look of disgust, Keaten's slumped shoulders, they're all visible on Ledger's body.  It's a studied performance, brilliantly executed by someone who felt the need to augment natural talent with diligent research.  The ways in which this scene could've fallen flat—slipped into an unfunny Tarentino meta-commentary on the silent film tradition—are many and varied and Ledger skirted them all. 

Three more notes, as I don't want to exhaust the topic tonight—I loves me my Batmans—so I'll just touch on them here:

• The critique of the Bush administration's survellience state is unsubtle and inspiring: some things are necessary in a time of crisis; crises aren't perpetual; so when a crisis passes, prudence suggests you explode the expediencies the crisis necessitated.  (Preferably literally.)
• The valorization of convenient truth is pervasive and disturbing, but quite possibly the most interesting aspect of the film from the perspective of someone who studies literature.  Given its genre and the necessary subterfuges said genre demands—wry remarks about past boyfriends being psychotic and what-not—the admission of deep deception into the formula could be quite unsettling.
• Director Christopher Nolan obviously learned quite a bit shooting his previous film, as the head-fakes, reverse-head-fakes, reverse-reverse-head-fakes-no-take-backs, &c. actually worked.  Typically, directors fool me once, prime me for deception, then fail to fool me again.  Nolan announced his intention to fool me, then preceded to do so for more than two hours despite the best efforts of my keen attentions. 

---

*Although it very well could be, as only about 28 minutes were shot in IMAX and yet, thanks to ingenious editing on the part of director Christopher Nolan, the transitions between formats and resolutions were seamless.  Such transitions are a simple matter when they involve a cut-to-black followed by an establishing shot, but they're much trickier when they're being blended into discreet action sequences.  The one involving the eighteen wheeler provides the easiest, least likely to spoil explanation: because the truck is very long, if it were to somehow become vertical, a transition from a widescreen to an IMAX format (illustrated here) isn't in the least bit jarring.  I'd argue some part of our monkey brain's understanding of physics expects that, but not with an expert on monkey brain physics.

Comments

[G C]

There's at least a third moment that got my audience laughing. One sentence, three words, Y__ C___ M__.

I had a lot of the same stuff to say in my immediate reaction at my own blog earlier today, mostly about the Ledger performance, with just a little speculation towards what if anything could possibly follow it.

You've read The Killing Joke, I assume? Moore really deserved a story credit on this.

[Jon H]

"Moore really deserved a story credit on this."

Considering that he had his name taken off of the 'V' movie, I can't imagine he'd want a story credit.

[G C]

Oh, that's fair enough. I'm sure Moore spends most of his time these days cursing the upcoming Watchmen movie anyway.

[Wax]

For me the most impressive thing about the Joker role was his first meeting with Bats - the scene from the trailer, 'Then you're gonna love me.' After the fighting starts, Ledger scuttles around and interposes minions between himself and this ugly...thing that's appeared to get him. And as I experienced the scene anyhow, he's shit scared for a minute there, like the one person in Gotham crazier than he is is ten feet from him. Ledger looks completely undignified in that scene - as he does throughout his performance - and that scene cemented my sense of him as a person. As opposed to Nicholson's hammy indignities, Ledger just looks like a mess; more than the awesome line-readings in the gangster sit-down, more than the pencil trick, that scuttling convinced me I was seeing something extraordinary.

(That, and Ledger's physical work in the bank robbery, so expressive behind an unmoving mask - amazing.)

Biggest surprise of the movie, for me, was that all the Joker's ad-campaign catchlines - 'Why so serious?' 'It's all going according to plan,' 'Let's put a smile on that face,' 'Hit me!' - are way way way creepier in the film than standing alone. The 'serious' line sounds like supervillain affectation on its own; in the film it's part of his 'daddy' backstory and it flows beautifully out of that monologue, as do the others. An interesting effect, disorienting, and one I liked.

The Killing Joke I bought in middle or high school because I liked Brian Bolland's art(!), not having really read any other Batman comics (didn't get to Miller until college), and on rereading it feels like a companion to Watchmen or something, an experiment, kind of...a trifle. I find the mirrored-panel transitions irritating and showy, now, in part because Watchmen was obsessed with them (to what effect?). But yeah, I got a lot of Killing Joke flashbacks during the flick...

[tomemos]

I was impressed that the film did speeches better than any other superhero movie I've seen. You know, the part where a character talks for three or four panels--I mean minutes--about why honor is so important or whatnot. Usually they come off as a time out; here, they worked, not just because the message was so dark but because the writing was so good, and many of the implications lurked below the surface.

[Tom E]

I really enjoyed it, as well, and second what everyone has said about Ledger.

However, one thing which struck me was the sense that I was watching "Batman" as written by David Simon. I'm not familiar with the comics really (just the old cartoon series and Burton's films), so getting a look into Gotham's governing and criminal infrastructure was a lot of fun. At times it really did feel like the writers had been watching a lot of "The Wire." (Granted, I'm currently working my way through season 3, so perhaps that's just where my head is. But still...)

[Jake]

Well, in the next movie maybe they will focus on Gotham itself? I didn't like how the behavior of regular citizens were easily influenced by the shiny DA, a man in a bat costume, and some homicidal thugs. Or how Batman's sacrifices were for the good of Gotham, because they need a symbol of hope or some such.

I guess this is part of the 'valorization of a convenient truth' SEK was meaning, but it didn't gel with me because like most super hero material, or like V for Vendetta, the hero is this kind of vigilante who holds his own autocratic sway over the great, unwashed masses. There's no force from the people's end, and they're stuck always needing protection.

I still didn't see much from Bruce Wayne himself doing something to stop crime with his vast wealth, like setting up social programs or funding the right side of the law -- he only gets that bright idea after an encounter with Dent. He's still waging a personal war in a bat suit. Other nitpicks or some such, but I thought it was an entertaining film nonetheless.

[ben wolfson]

He's still waging a personal war in a bat suit

Well, yeah, you know, that's kind of what Batman does.

[Prodigal]

While I was mesmerised by how he delivered the "daddy" backstory, at the same time some small, treacherous part of my brain insisted that it was perhaps a bit too convenient an origin.

Then his telling Rachael an entirely different, incompatible backstory made it clear that he just liked to tell people whatever he thought would make them even more horrified at his appearance than they already were, and I couldn't help but grin a bit.

[Mikhail Emelianov]

How about the two ferries sequence - wasn't it a bit strange that that a bunch of regular citizens (both free and jailed) couldn't make up their mind and in the end essentially refused to make a decision and were thus congradulated for being "moral" by film's moral compass aka Batman? I mean no one wants to be in a situation like that, but how is cowardly refusal to press the button a virtue? big black dude on the "other" boat was the only one who made any kind of conscious choice even if to throw away the detonator, but still that was a gesture of resignation, wasn't it? I know it's all the logic of "we don't negotiate with terrorists" and all, but how is it heroic at all? Isn't it a kind of perverse utilitarianism: we'd rather die than make a choice that could in the end save some but will present us as too calculating, too pragmatic? And I like how the first reaction of the "free" folks in to vote - democracy is the answer to everything! difficult decision? let's just vote and then if it turns out we dont' like the results, we'll just throw them away and do something else... And what if the annoying balding dude did press the button, he'd "save" his boat but then once the fog clears, he's sure to be arrested for murder, right?

[Rob MacD]

The people on the boats wouldn't know the Joker well enough to think of this, but we can hardly assume that the Joker was telling the truth when he said each button would detonate the other boat. I was expecting it to be a switcheroo, as when the Joker forced Bats to choose between saving Harvey and Rachel but switched the addresses on him.

[Mikhail Emelianov]

the refusal to make a decision, even based on a very limited and unreliable information, still is a refusal to make a decision - when is an ethical decision truly based on reliable and truthful information? anything could have happened if one of the boat's pushed the button, the point is that they refused to do it and never found out - Batman saves the day by not letting the Joker finish both boats off... Wouldn't we think of them as morally brave if they took their chances and blew the other boat up to save the people on their own boat, even if it turned out to be a trick? I mean, isn't the intention to save what counts as a moral act, not the calculation of what could and would happen if this and that were the case...

[Ken]

Wow, no I think you just disagree morally with the writers, Mikhail. I think they were suggesting that the moral choice is to refuse to kill other people to save yourselves, to refuse to give in to this madman even if it means your possible death. It's a moral quandary, sure. But the director was I think suggesting that they *did* make a choice, and that it was the right one to him and Bats. Not that they were indecisive, but that they hesitated yet did the right thing.