Review: ‘The Batman’ embraces the Dark Knight’s gothic horror roots
When it comes to Batman, it’s fair to say that the Dark Knight of Gotham has more in common with Count Dracula than he does with his DC co-crime fighter Superman, or with any other mainstream comic book superhero for that matter. Be it his nocturnal habits, endless brooding, immense amounts of generational wealth, nightly transformations into a bat, or the prominent feature of an insane asylum in a vast majority of his storylines, for all intents and purposes, Batman belongs to the genre of gothic horror.
It is for this reason that Matt Reeves’ latest three-hour-long descent into the world of the infamous caped crusader is the achievement that it is. The Batman embraces its titular character’s darkness to perfection, making gripping use of the horror at the twisted heart of the shadowy hero’s world. Striking a balance between the all-too-real world of Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy and the fantastical camp galore of Tim Burton and Joel Schumacher’s over the top Batman films, Reeves manages to construct a Gotham permeated by murder, mystery, a little bit of romance, and a whole lot of insanity. The film sees Robert Pattinson’s gloomy and pensive Batman up against Paul Dano’s fully unhinged Riddler, with the latter committing heinous high-profile murders in an attempt to uncover the political rot at the heart of Gotham. Characteristically leaving clues about his next hit in the form of cyphers addressed to Batman, Dano’s Riddler ditches the question mark-emblazoned green suit and obnoxiously loud demeanour opted by Jim Carrey in his outing as the villain in Batman Forever, instead favouring goggles, masking tape and a far more menacing silence, pierced by moments of absolute slasher-style madness. As the Dark Knight dons his “world’s greatest detective” hat to hunt down the killer, chaos ensues.
Batman’s introduction is perhaps one of the reboot’s most gripping sequences, establishing the rich and moody tone that goes on to permeate the film in its entirety. Opening on Halloween night, creepy costumes and frightening face makeup fill the scene, setting the stage for the Dark Knight’s phantasmagoric entrance. In the voiceover, Pattison’s Batman asserts, “They think I’m hiding in the shadows. But, I am the shadows,” as Something in the Way, arguably the creepiest song in Nirvana’s grunge repertoire, plays in the background.
Reeves, who co-wrote the screenplay for the film, credited the song as his inspiration for Batman, explaining that he based Bruce Wayne loosely on the late Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain. With Something in the Way, Reeves appears to have struck gold. The song, with its contained sense of dread, stands as a perfect representation of the film and its slow, calculated horror. Batman’s theme, composed by Michael Giacchino (known for his work on brighter films of the Pixar variety), echoes this sense of foreboding. If the Hans Zimmer score of Nolan’s Batman Begins signalled the coming rise of a hero, Giacchino’s ominous theme hints at his possible descent into madness.
Pattinson fully indulges in his particular Bruce Wayne’s emo origins. With a deathly pallor, all-black wardrobe and pin-straight hair that falls partially over one eye, the actor embodies the grunge spirit of the character with full effect. On the gothic side of things, Wayne manor is a dimly-lit, decaying mansion with an intricately carved dark-wooded interior seemingly straight out of the mountains of Transylvania. To add to the vampiric quality of the character, Bruce, who is a creature of the night, dons a pair of sunglasses indoors after being forced to tend to business during regular waking hours, signalling his aversion to daylight and the film’s obvious horror influences.
The Batman manages to establish darkness of mood without resorting to drawn-out fight scenes to emphasise the “grit” of the story, as was the case in the painfully overstretched Zack Snyder 2016 offering Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. The grimness of Reeve’s film is mostly tonal, with a large part of the film’s conflict being relatively cerebral in nature, with a generous helping of David Fincher-style violence peppered in. For Pattison’s Batman, protecting Gotham is as much about his brain as it is about his fists and overly-inflated bank account (cue Ben Affleck’s Bruce Wayne responding to a question regarding his superpower with: “I’m rich.”)
Perhaps The Batman’s winning quality is the intrigue it offers. The film is thoroughly enjoyable, and despite clocking in a runtime of around three hours, it is easily watchable. The shift in mood with this particular franchise, with a focus on Batman’s detective skills and the gothic nature of his world, has allowed for the possibility of more fun being injected into the reboot without resorting to the exaggerated insanity of the Burton and Schumacher offerings. With the deranged serial killer take on the Riddler, a whole new world of villainous foes opens up for Reeves to explore in further films of the expected trilogy.
A Penguin spinoff starring an unrecognisable Colin Farrel already in the works and Barry Keoghan’s Joker (teased towards the end of The Batman) possibly set to make an appearance in the film’s sequel, the question of which other Batman adversaries will crop up in the future of the franchise is an open one. With the reboot’s horror leanings, can the Scarecrow, self-titled the “Master of Fear”, a toned-down version of whom was portrayed by Cillian Murphy in the Nolan trilogy, be expected to make a chilling return? Or will Mr Freeze finally be redeemed after the seemingly unforgivable (but outrageously funny) crimes committed in his name by Arnold Schwarzenegger in shimmery blue facepaint? With an army of deeply disturbing and minimally-explored villains (as well as a severely underutilised Catwoman played by Zoe Kravitz) at his disposal, Reeves has all the tools needed to pay homage to Batman’s world of gothic horror. All we can do is wait and watch the madness, maniacal laughter and all, slowly unfurl.