Rating: 4 out of 5
FOLLOWING in the footsteps of Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy was always going to be a tall order, which makes Matt Reeves' The Batman all the more impressive for doing so as impressively as it does.
Re-imagining the world of Gotham and Bruce Wayne et al, Reeves does adopt some of the strengths of Nolans' vsionary films by keeping them grounded in reality as well as delivering equal parts superhero genre and crime genre. But whereas The Dark Knight, in particular, echoed the likes of Michael Mann's Heat as well as elements of The Godfather, Reeves opts for elements of Coppola with a stylistic approach more akin to David Fincher's Se7en.
The result is an often unsettling experience that contains some genuinely grisly crimes, as well as a sustained sense of gloom and murkiness. Just as Fincher's Se7en took place in a rainswept city, so too does Reeves' film. It adds to the sense of desperation and depression that informs so much of the plot.
Yet while Batman has tended to err towards darkness in recent times (distancing itself from the high camp of the original TV series, or some of the more outlandish elements of Tim Burton's take, which still retained the darkness), this one feels particularly downbeat.
This Gotham is once again ruled over by the Mob - spearheaded by John Turturro's Carmine Falcone and his ambitious second-in-command The Penguin (Colin Farrell). It is rife with both police and municipal corruption. And most the main characters are carrying the scars of traumas past.
But a new player is threatening to unleash a hornet's nest. A serial killer, The Riddler (Paul Dano), is waging his own war against corruption - targeting prominent city officials for savage deaths, and leaving clues for those he deems honest or heroic: namely, The Batman (Robert Pattinson) and Jim Gordon (Jeffrey Wright). It is therefore down to Batman and Gordon to piece together the puzzle (or solve the riddles) and bring a halt to the killing and corruption.
Helping them achieve this, to varying degrees, are the likes of Batman's father-figure Alfred (Andy Serkis) and cat burglar Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman (Zoe Kravitz), all of whom provide a rich tapestry of supporting characters that all get a chance to shine (thanks to the overall quality of Reeves' script).
Just as he did with his Apes movies, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and War for the Planet of the Apes, Reeves proves incredibly capable of juggling the demanded spectacle of a blockbuster movie with something more complex and intelligent - a film that is as big on character and story as it is set pieces.
Hence, the first two thirds of The Batman are especially striking for the way in which they combine a gripping murder mystery with character and world building, while also offering a little social commentary on the nature of power and the divisions it causes, as well as the long-lasting [and damaging] effects of trauma (particularly if inflicted during childhood).
There is a palpable sense of class war inherent in The Batman's depiction of Gotham as a city where the rich fiddle while the poor are left to flounder, thereby offering some intriguing questions about morality and ethics.
And just as Todd Phillips' Joker also raised some pertinent questions about mental health and its effects on those who struggle with it, so too does Reeves' film here: many of the principal players are informed by their mental health struggles, whether it's Pattinson's orphaned billionaire (more comfortable as his crime-fighting alter-ego than his more illustrious Bruce Wayne persona), Kravitz's embittered thief, struggling with her own childhood issues, or Dano's Riddler, another orphan who became a victim of his own circumstances.
Reeves' screenplay doesn't downplay the effects of trauma on any of his characters, allowing room for nuance in each of their portrayals, and thereby giving his top-drawer cast plenty to work with.
It's just a shame that the film can't sustain its brilliance all of the way through to its conclusion, for while the third act still remains as enjoyable as it is creative, it feels a little more like its pandering to blockbuster convention - with a ticking clock scenario bringing more familiar, and perhaps lazier genre elements.
But then even Nolan grappled with this duality in the third acts of both Batman Begins and The Dark Knight Rises, which both also inolved a race against time for their conclusions - evidence that you can perhaps only take innovation so far within a comic book context given the expectancy of the core fanbase.
What Reeves and Nolan both do, however, is to expand the Batman world beyond its comic book boundaries, to explore other genre possibilities and to create narratives that are embedded within contemporary society. They have a reach beyond their genre.
And given that The Batman is the first entry in a planned trilogy, which also looks capable of delivering some equally as good spin-offs (witness the incoming HBO limited series, The Penguin), then the omens are already highly promising that this new take on the DC icon will become another classic in its own right, fully deserving of the faith and time being given to it.