Oppenheimer

Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Cillian Murphy, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Robert Downey Jr., Florence Pugh, Josh Hartnett, Casey Affleck, Rami Malek, Kenneth Branagh, Benny Safdie, Jason Clarke, Dylan Arnold, Tom Conti, James D'Arcy, Dane DeHaan, Alden Ehrenreich, David Krumholtz, Matthew Modine, Scott Grimes, Alex Wolff, Michael Angarano, Macon Blair, Jack Quaid, Josh Peck, Olivia Thirbly, James Remar, Gary Oldman
Running Time: 181 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

With Oppenheimer, writer/director Christopher Nolan takes what many might consider an unusual route in examining the "father of the atomic bomb." Jumping between timelines, framing the narrative around two significant court hearings and shifting from black and white to color, this isn't your standard historical biopic. And yet it is, surreally using its subject's life to explore deeper, further reaching consequences that linger to this day. Adapted from the 2005 biography "American Prometheus" and clocking in at a gargantuan three hours, Nolan doesn't hold back in examining the string of events surrounding disgraced American physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer's eventual loss of national security clearance in 1954.

While a fair amount of the story's energy is poured into the actual development of Oppenheimer's weapon of mass destruction, it's primarily gripping prologue, preparing us for the controversy to come. It isn't until his idea becomes a reality that he discovers the moral complications and lack of control he'll have over its use. You can chalk this up to hubris or naivety as his concerns aren't merely dismissed, but savagely ripped apart, leaving the renowned physicist's reputation smeared. History may have partially corrected that, but the most unsettling aspect is how it happened to begin with.

It's 1926 when American-born 22 year-old theoretical physics student J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) studies at Cambridge before completing his PhD in Germany and returns to the states to teach quantum physics in California. While on the West Coast he befriends a group of U.S. Communist Party members, getting entangled in romantic relationships with troubled psychiatrist Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) and his eventual wife, biologist Kitty Puening (Emily Blunt). But everything changes once he's approached by General Leslie Groves (Matt Damon) in the midst of World War II.

With the Nazis and Russia suspected of working on a nuclear arms program, Oppenheimer is recruited by Groves in 1942 to lead the Manhattan Project dedicated to developing an atomic bomb. Joined by a team of scientists including good friend Isidor Isaac Rabbi (David Krumholtz) and the brilliant but disagreeable Edward Teller (Benny Safdie), Oppenheimer and his crew work around the clock in Los Alamos, New Mexico to prepare for a dangerous test detonation. As Oppenheimer's consumed with guilt over President Truman's (Gary Oldman) decision to bomb Japan into surrender, longtime rival and Energy Commission chairman Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.) schemes, pulling political strings to sideline the scientist.  

Non-linear as the film's structure appears, it actually follows a strict chronology that begins with Oppenheimer's academic years and continues through Los Alamos and beyond. There's a lengthy emphasis on his education, marveling under the learning tree of intellectual idols like Kenneth Branagh's Nobel winning physicist Niels Bohr. These early scenes, along with his personal troubles with wife Kitty and unhinged mistress Jean seem off-putting at first, but it adds up, as does his affiliation with communists. Nolan's pretty even handed with this, neither downplaying Oppenheimer's tangential involvement or how that association will be weaponized to later take him down. 

All roads lead to the 1945 Trinity A-bomb test, building up a huge amount of suspense and intrigue for the blast that clears the path for Truman's bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While the catastrophic event itself isn't depicted, the script doesn't shy away from questioning whether Japan would have  surrendered without such extreme measures. And no one's more ambivalent than the tortured Oppenheimer, who becomes painfully aware of the door he just opened and its horrifying ramifications. 

The film's most powerful scene comes when Oppenheimer delivers a speech to an audience full of scientists and military wildly cheering their hero for ending the war. But what he sees instead are bright, blinding lights and faces of burning flesh in the crowd that will haunt him long after the celebratory magazine profiles fade. Jennifer Lame's editing and Ludwig Göransson's score provide constant, palpable tension throughout, but never more than during this sequence, which signals the psychological battle he'll now be fighting within himself.

Supposedly, the feud between Mozart and Salieri in Amadeus served as Nolan's inspiration for Lewis Strauss's hate and jealousy fueled vendetta against Oppenheimer, which is mostly one-sided. By orchestrating a predetermined sham of a hearing for his opponent, Strauss ends up revealing more about the integrity of those testifying than the accused. But between Oppenheimer's womanizing and communist links, it's not hard to discredit him, even if a worse humiliation comes while meeting with Truman, who mocks his concerns. When given the choice of falling in line or getting out of the way, he picks neither, losing his country instead. 

Cillian Murphy has played his fair share of villains and creeps, but Oppenheimer, while eccentrically flawed and narcissistic, isn't exactly that, if only because his intense regret is enough to qualify him as having a conscience. But he still did what he did and spends the rest of his days grappling with it, leaving the gravest risk to humanity in the hands of a potentially irresponsible government.

Through that lens, it's easy to view Oppenheimer as a hopelessly reckless, but the pull of Murphy's performance is that he plays him as nearly impenetrable and impossible to read right up until the enormity of what's happened sinks in. And with his sunken, hollowed face and darting eyes, the eeriest aspect to his casting is how an actor with such an unusually unmistakable look manages to be a physical dead ringer for the man himself. 

Strauss' 1959 Senate confirmation hearing for Eisenhower's Secretary of Commerce position proves to be a referendum on the former shoe salesman's shady dealings and Oppenheimer's last shot at any kind of redemption. Downey's brilliance peaks here, revealing he was actually this good at being bad the entire time, only now allowing us to catch on. The rest of this loaded cast is packed with big names filling what would otherwise be considered small, throwaway roles under the guidance of a lesser director. Some are seamlessly interwoven into the plot's fabric while others are briefly written off until reappearing later to make massive contributions. 

Matt Damon steals a portion of the film with his gravitas as the hard-nosed, practical Gen. Groves while brief, strong turns also come from Josh Hartnett and Rami Malek as physicists Ernest Lawrence and David Hill, Jason Clarke as hearing attorney Roger Robb, Casey Affleck as military intelligence officer Boris Pash, and most notably, Alden Eidenreich as Strauss' unnamed fictional aide who becomes increasingly disillusioned with his boss. Blunt isn't given tons to do as Kitty, but she nails the heavily factual interpretation, right down to her pivotal testimony ripped directly from the transcripts. Pugh makes an even larger impression with far less screen time, bringing a desperate instability and magnetic seductiveness to Jean, who's constantly a step away from falling off the deep end.

With a fairly restrained use of CGI and an emphasis on more practical effects, the only small complaint is some questionable old age makeup in the last act that's still less distracting than any digitized approach, especially in a period piece. But the film deserves major credit for what's probably the best use of Albert Einstein (magnificently played by Scottish actor Tom Conti) we've seen in a historical drama. There's this clever mystery surrounding the professional bond he shares with Oppenheimer that requires both more and less unpacking than you'd initially assume. And that's especially true of their unforgettable final scene.  

Cold and detached, this is still surprisingly accessible, with everything locking into place for Nolan in ways it hasn't before. Plagued by anxiety and impending doom, we watch the scientist simmer from the inside, realizing his greatest innovation could very well destroy the world. And that enormous weight is thrust onto viewers, making Oppenheimer a challenge to fully absorb in just a single watch, where you can only begin to unravel its numerous implications.

The Woman in the Window

Director: Joe Wright
Starring: Amy Adams, Gary Oldman, Anthony Mackie, Fred Hechinger, Wyatt Russell, Brian Tyree Henry, Julianne Moore, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Tracy Letts
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R 

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

The most surprising aspect of Joe Wright's long gestating The Woman in the Window is how underwhelming the results are given the staggering amount of talent involved. Of course, this happens, as movies collecting dust in post-production are frequently dumped onto streaming services with little to no fanfare. But in this instance, Netflix actually went to some lengths to promote it, perhaps hoping the cast's pedigree would overcome its creative flaws, which keep piling up as its story becomes more involved and convoluted. It starts with rather transparent aspirations of honoring Hitchcock or De Palma before devolving into an inferior Scream sequel in its second half, complete with a clumsy reveal. And that's a shame since you can kind of see the skeletal framework of a film that may have really worked under different circumstances, as a few stronger performances seem in search of the better material these actors mistakenly thought they signed onto.

Based on a 2018 bestseller by A.J. Finn, that this script was adapted by Tony-winning playwright (and gifted character actor) Tracy Letts leads you to believe something got lost on its journey from his pen to the screen. That it was supposed to be released in late 2019 confirms as much, as viewers will be jumping through hoops to deal with some of the arbitrary contrivances before reaching an ending that lands with a thud. While there are laughs to be had, it mostly takes itself too seriously for that, especially when information comes to light that would have ended the film ten minutes after it started. Knowing this, it's unlikely many would have stuck around for the over-the-top third act that wraps up what's been a strange and wildly inconsistent mystery.

Depressed, agoraphobic child psychologist Anna Fox (Amy Adams) lives alone in her Manhattan brownstone apartment after separating from her husband Edward (Anthony Mackie), who currently has custody of their daughter, Olivia (Mariah Bozeman). Mixing drinks and medications on a daily basis, Anna's psychiatrist Dr. Landy (Letts) becomes concerned with her obsession of watching all the neighbors from a second floor window, while also acknowledging that interest could be a subtle sign of progress in her therapy. But when spouses Alistair (Gary Oldman) and Jane (Julianne Moore) Russell move in across the street with their teen son, Ethan (Fred Hechinger), Anna's takes her spying to another level.

After two separate encounters with a clearly dispondant Ethan and a flighty Jane, Anna begins suspecting the mother and son are trapped in an abusive household. When she believes she sees Jane get stabbed to death by husband Alistair through her zoom lens, his furious denials and attempts to discredit Anna to Detective Little (Brian Tyree Henry) begin. Anna's basement tenant, singer-songwriter David (Wyatt Russell), provides little help in corroborating her story while possibly hiding some secrets of his own. With her mental state deteriorating and everyone gaslighting her into doubting what she saw, Anna works overtime to put together clues that prove this horrific crime was really committed and not merely a construct of her fragile psyche.

While the film is all over the map in terms of plot, the amount of time it spent on the shelf probably helped it in some ways, at least as far as its themes of isolation seeming timelier than they otherwise would. And for about half the film, the script does seem very seriously interested in taking us into the fractured headspace of this woman who obviously experienced a severe trauma we only later discover the details of. 

Losing herself in classic movies and TV, Anna's exiled herself inside this apartment with her cat, and the remainder of her entertainment is provided by spying on this wealthy, dysfunctional family across the street. Other than  sporadic phone conversations with her estranged husband and the weekly psychiatric counseling, she's in her own world, reality hanging by a thread after an adjustment to her meds. 

Adams is really strong in these opening scenes and her interactions with Hechinger, as this desperately off, needy teen, are unnerving and affecting. But it's the entrance of an entertainingly loopy Julianne Moore as "Jane Russell" that sends everything into a tailspin, but not an altogether welcome one, through no fault of Moore's performance, which is probably better than the story deserves. 

After Anna witnesses Jane's murder the entire scenario goes down this rabbit hole where everyone starts questioning her sanity and the mystery unfolds as to whether everything's playing out in her head. The more information that's revealed the sillier it gets, more closely resembling one of those 90's direct-to-video thrillers than the Hitchcockian whodunnit it initially purported itself as being. 

Most of the film's charms are found in these supporting turns, with the possible exceptions of Gary Oldman's relegation to stock villainy and Jennifer Jason Leigh being given the least to do of anyone as the supposed "real" Jane Russell, an eleventh hour wrench thrown into the plot. While the characters are comparable to pieces on a game board, both Hechinger and Wyatt Russell make the most of what they're given, with the latter proving more than capable of handling darker material you'll wish was better after seeing his performance. And despite fairly limited screen time, Moore makes the biggest impact in her extended scenes opposite Adams, teasing the potential for a gripping mystery that just never quite gets off the ground.

This is one of those projects where the harder the script works, the returns only seem to keep diminishing. It's not a chore to sit through and Adams has a great grasp on her character, but whatever subtly the story had at its start literally goes, if you'll forgive the pun, out the window with a fascinating mess of a finale. Featuring a gotcha revelation that's partially confusing and not as surprising as you'd think, it really does channel one of those cheap slasher endings in all the wrong ways. 

Since Adams basically headlines every other film released these days, this feels like a bigger departure for Wright, who's a long way off from Atonement and Hanna, dipping his feet into the waters of a bargain basement thriller he tries his best to elevate. We'll never know the exact circumstances surrounding how The Woman in the Window turned out like it did, making it almost uncomfortable to assign blame. But even those able to have fun with this would have a tough time claiming it reaches its full potential, whatever that was intended to be.       

Mank

Director: David Fincher
Starring: Gary Oldman, Amanda Seyfried, Lily Collins, Arliss Howard, Tom Pelphrey, Sam Troughton, Ferdinand Kingsley, Tuppence Middleton, Tom Burke, Joseph Cross, Jamie McShane, Toby Leonard Monika Gossmann, Charles Dance, Bill Nye
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

During David Fincher's Mank, drunk, bedridden screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz is told by a producer that the assigned screenplay he's writing for young, hotshot director Orson Welles is "too complicated," confusingly jumping back and forth through time and careening out of control as he approaches an impossible deadline. If the script was just a structural mess maybe that could be fixed, but the bigger complaint is its inaccessibility, sure to drive away mainstream audiences. That working draft, titled "American," would eventually evolve into Citizen Kane, and everything turned out pretty well. Or did they?  Definitely for the film, but not so much for those directly involved. Listening to the criticisms of Mankiewicz's script, you can't help but think that without careful planning it could also apply to the movie that's just been made about it. But we also know this is a director who's nothing if not deliberate.

In adapting his late father Jack Fincher's script to the screen, David Fincher makes a noticeable effort to go beyond taking us on a time travel trip through Hollywood's golden age to deliver an experience that looks and feels as if it could have been released during that era. It attempts to appeal to both diehards who will triple-check its accuracy and more casual viewers unaware of the difference, but respectful of the craftsmanship. And there's plenty to admire in that department, with Fincher expertly channeling this period of filmmaking through dialogue, editing, sound and cinematography that invoke some of Kane's more famous moments.  

The deeper we're submerged into this monochromatic world of shattered dreams, lit cigarettes and broken wine bottles, the clearer it becomes that more bubbles under the surface of Mank as it masquerades as a straight biopic of an immensely successful failure. Movies about movies not only need drama that's worth our attention, but also a unique hook that grabs hold. The creative and personal bloodshed over Citizen Kane should be enough, but in the hands of a master like Fincher, it ends up instead being a thorough psychological dissection of the man who wrote it.  

It's 1940 when Herman J. "Mank" Mankiewicz (Gary Oldman) gets a phone call from Orson Welles (Tom Burke) while recuperating in Victorville, California from a broken leg sustained in a recent car accident. Given complete creative freedom from RKO Pictures for his next project, the upstart Welles recruits an injured Mank to write the screenplay, centering around a wealthy, but morally bankrupt main character who shares more than just passing similarities with newspaper publishing magnate William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance). 

With Mank dictating the script from bed, his secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins) notices this, as well as other parallels to studio executives and people he knew while he and his younger brother, Joseph (Tom Pelphrey) worked at MGM in the 1930's under Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard). Flashing back, we see how Mank's friendship with Hearst's lover and beneficiary, actress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried) grows, as the writer ingratiates himself and reserved wife Sara (Tuppence Middleton) into the Hollywood elite, entertaining fellow party goers at Hearst's San Simeon estate with his rambunctious personality and outspoken political views. We also see how his alcoholism derailed a successful career, with Welles arriving just in time to offer Mank shot at redemption and a big pay day, if he's still up for it. And doesn't mind forfeiting the credit. 

Those entering this expecting the cold calculation usually associated with Fincher may be surprised to find out that the film's somewhat dark, but not really depressing, moving at a spry, energetic pace that cuts back-and-forth between Mank's latest undertaking and key events in his studio career, most of which are littered with memorable characters and deadpan humor. The familiar device of utilizing screenplay-formatted title cards to indicate the year and location should seem almost too on-the-nose , but it fits exceptionally well here in framing a story about the writer of the most famous non-linear film ever made. 

Considering the feud between Welles and Mankiewicz over credit was historically bitter by even Hollywood standards, this instead mostly focuses on the people and experiences that plant the seeds in Mank to eventually start his greatest creation. In most of his brief appearances, Welles is presented as this deep-voiced, shadowy figure on the other end of the phone, channeling his concerns and demands about the project  through actor-producer John Houseman (Sam Troughton). Because we've had more than enough takes on this side of the Kane fallout before (see 1999's RKO 281 with Liev Schreiber as Welles), this isn't a flaw so much as a choice, and Burke's portrayal of him is sufficient enough given the limited screen time.

The backbone of the film lays in its flashbacks, transporting us into a wild, sepia-tinged world of wealthy, eccentric wheelers and dealers like MGM chief Mayer, who's delightfully played by Arliss Howard as the king of carnival barking studio con-men. He and producer Irving Thalberg (Ferdinand Kingley) tolerate and even like Mank to an extent, until it becomes apparent his best days have passed, and his drunken outbursts threaten the studio's cozy arrangement with Hearst. His eventual script will threaten it more. 

As Hearst, British actor Charles Dance gives the enigmatic publisher the treatment most probably expected would be expected for Welles, conveying a towering but curious presence that in only a few scenes me ets the complicated expectations that drew Mankiewicz and the young, meglomaniacal director to his story, however true or slanderous it ended up being. Mank was 42 when he wrote Kane, and while Oldman is noticeably older, it hardly matters since nearly everyone in this era looked a good fifteen to twenty years past their actual age anyway. Compound that with the fact that Mank was already drowning in the bottle for decades and you could argue the 62 year-old might actually seem too young for the role, especially considering the script's emphasis on him being so far past his prime. 

Anyone who loves that great sub-genre of movies about writers will find a lot to appreciate in Oldman's performance, which severely deviates from the usual trope of introverted writers getting lost inside their own heads. That very well may have been the case if Mank wasn't a self-destructive trainwreck, but he's undeniably the life of the party. And knows it. Two such highfalutin Hearst parties are at the centerpiece of the picture, with the the first memorably deteriorating into a political debate about author and socialist gubernatorial candidate Upton Sinclair (briefly played by Bill Nye the Science Guy). Mank also drunkenly crashes a second one a few years later, leading to an embarrassing display where he basically pitches the Kane story to Hearst's face. 

Self-deprecating enough to be extremely likable, though not entirely oblivious to the damage he leaves in his path, it's hard not to respect the nuance Oldman bring to a real-life figure many know little about aside from his famous writing credit. And some may not even be aware of that since Welles, as director, will always be most closely associated with Kane's success. Keeping Mank in check is his secretary, Lily Collins' Rita, a young woman undeterred by her boss' bluster, or crankiness, steering him on course whether he wants to be or not. Collins leaves a sizable mark, holding together the portion of the film that most centers on his actual writing of the script in between beverages.  

Movie star and Hearst companion Marion Davies is played by an enchanting Amanda Seyfried, who's unquestionably the best thing in this, stealing every scene, nearly all of which are opposite Oldman.  From the moment she appears, Seyfried subverts all expectations of how we'd expect this well known and unfairly maligned celebrity figure to be portrayed. Witty and observant right out of the gate, she plays Davies as a force of nature justifiably tired of being overlooked and underestimated by an "old boys club" that will only ever see her as a ditzy blonde actress. 

Almost instantly on the same wavelength, what's so special and engaging about Mank and Marion's friendship is that it seems real and not put on, breaking that tired cinematic rule that there always has to be romantic strings attached. There are none here and the movie's better for it, regardless of what did or didn't happen in reality. With her expressive eyes and unmistakable facial features Seyfried really looks and talks this part of a classic old Hollywood starlet, nailing a certain rapid-fire style of speech and mannerism that seems pulled out right out of the 30's or 40's. She also gets off one of the film's best lines when trying to convince Mank not to go ahead with a project so obviously taking jabs at her relationship with Hearst. The reasoning behind the objection isn't what you'd think, but perfectly in line with the fair, pragmatic outlook this character demonstrates throughout. 

While it wouldn't exactly be fair to classify this as geared entirely at a niche audience, an argument can be made that Mank isn't the kind of picture that would be considered a huge thrill ride by most, even as some of the best efforts often aren't. But despite the irony of its protagonist having actually won an Academy Award, it definitely isn't calculated enough to be criticized as Oscar bait, mainly because Fincher's incapable of pandering to anyone. For fans of this period and setting there's a lot to revel in with the story of this man's professional and emotional downfall racing by at a almost a breakneck pace, before he's afforded a kind of redemption that ultimately comes too late for him.  

Mankiewicz's standing as a forgotten figure of cinematic history has only increased since this project was first supposed to go in front of the camera for Fincher in the late '90's so its release now feels especially fortuitous. And while any film set in Hollywood during this time would have to address the political backdrop, it holds more relevance now than it otherwise would, made all the more potent by discovering how little has changed beyond the nastiness of the discourse. 

Perceptions have also evolved about the contemporary utilization of black and white photography, as it's been justifiably re-embraced since skepticism surrounded silent throwback The Artist's Best Picture win a decade ago. Those suspecting potential gimmickry should know this looks great and represents one of the better uses of this format, reserved for a story where it feels more like a requirement than a creative choice on Fincher's part. So not only could the timing not be any better for Mank, the movie world seems to have caught up, proving it to be more than worth the wait. 

The Dark Knight Rises

Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Christian Bale, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Marion Cotillard, Morgan Freeman, Matthew Modine, Nestor Carbonell, Juno Temple, Ben Mendelsohn, Brett Cullen
Running Time: 165 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

So, here we are again. It's been four years since the release of The Dark Knight, but it definitely seems much longer. Re-watching it again recently I was surprised how poorly it's held up and how on target my original complaints were. They only loom larger now. Poor editing choices, pacing problems, cringe-worthy dialogue, a poorly written love interest and a third act mess. And it was still pretty great. Much it saved, or at least greatly covered, by the late Heath Ledger's unforgettable Oscar-winning performance. It really was the rare case of one actor rescuing an entire film and a lesson in the danger of heightened expectations.

Now, with the arrival of The Dark Knight Rises comes the closing chapter in Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy, and another instance where it's difficult to approach a Batman film without seeing it through the prism of a real-life tragedy. At least for a while. We can only hope that doesn't last, because very little of what occurs in this final installment bares little resemblance to a reality we know. And what a relief. This is escapism at its finest. It's not only by far the strongest film in the series, but Nolan's grand-scale masterpiece and the movie everyone insists its predecessor is. He takes the gloves off, raising the stakes and escalating the mayhem. Knowing this is the end frees him up to anything, and boy does he take full advantage.

A palpable sense of fear and tension comes from sensing everything's up for grabs and anything can happen. And it mostly does. There seems to be no rules, but within that framework Nolan still manages to create something structurally sound and airtight, free of filler and flaws. Nearly three hours breeze by without a minute wasted. Of course, there's no performance like Ledger's, but there shouldn't be. In fact, it wouldn't even fit here. What's delivered instead is a more ambitious threat both terrifyingly physical and deliberately planned, as well as two tour-de-force supporting turns that steal the film outright. The results on screen don't lie. But the real story isn't how much better this is than Nolan's previous Batman outings, or anything else in the genre. It's that it isn't even close.

Revealing anything is probably giving away too much, so it's best to tread lightly when discussing the plot, which is as multi-layered as The Dark Knight, but more focused, with much of its thematic content calling back to Batman Begins. Eight years have passed since Batman took the fall for District Attorney Harvey Dent's death and a crippled, bearded, Howard Hughes-like Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) remains secluded in his mansion, even as trusted butler Alfred (Michael Caine) unsuccessfully attempts to coax him out of seclusion. Wayne Enterprises is crumbling after a failed investment in Miranda Tate's (Marion Cotillard) energy project while Commissioner Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) grows tired of living the lie that inspired the Dent Act, a bill that's cleaned up crime and restored peace to Gotham City. At least temporarily.

Enter Bane (Tom Hardy), a masked mercenary with an intricate, carefully orchestrated plan to gain control of the city and instigate a revolution, restoring power to the people. With support from Gordon and most of the Gotham Police, including rookie detective John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), Batman/Bruce Wayne is drawn out of retirement. But he must also contend with the arrival of cat burglar Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), whose own motivations may or may not include helping him.  

From the exciting opening hijack scene revealing Bane, the film grabs hold and doesn't let go. Sounding like a Scottish Darth Vader, talking and breathing heavily through his life-sustaining gas mask, he's a horrifying presence as much for his oratory delivery as his freakish, hulking physique. All the complaints about his voice being unintelligible are unfounded and the few times I did had to concentrate on what he was saying was well worth it since its so hypnotically creepy. You actually look forward to his soliloquies about the troubles of Gotham and hang on every word, which is a good thing considering he lectures a lot.  Beyond that, the physicality Tom Hardy brings to the role is astounding, making his fights with Batman the most intense the series has seen. There's a feeling he could literally die at this man's hands. Brilliantly skirting the line between comic book adversary and reality inspired cult leader, he's true enough to be believable in both worlds, but successfully functions as both in Nolan's.

Bane's motivations aren't outright political or socioeconomic, nor are his actions (most notably an attack on Gotham's stock exchange) meant as some kind of endorsement or condemnation of the Occupy movement. The film isn't a social commentary. It's about Batman. And this may be the first Batman film that really is. Or rather, it's more about Bruce Wayne. The line between the two is fuzzier than ever in this installment, if not eliminated entirely. As a result Nolan plays fast and loose with Batman's identity, finally freed from the constrictions of having to "hide it," making Bale's performance more compelling as a result. The two personas are so inseparable that when a major character finally pieces the two together he feels out of the loop and the last to get the memo. Bale spends his least amount of time in the Bat suit, which feels right and means more when he's eventually back in it. That gravely voice is still there, but for some reason it bothered me less this time, either just because he isn't under the cowl as much or there's too much else going on to care. The movie is literally it's title, and that focus results in Bale's best work in the role yet.

Gotham City is also for the first time becomes a living, breathing character and fleshed out as much more than merely an action setting. This is a story that feels epic in scale, more so when Bane's plan starts to come to fruition and we head into the exhilarating final act, which contains a pair of shocking, game-changing twists. The city is literally at war with itself but the movie never feels like its playing in standard action territory because these sequences are seamlessly presented with minimal CGI, and the story stakes feel so high. Unlike The Dark Knight, nearly all of that action takes place in broad daylight so we can actually see what's happening and the camera isn't shaking, which makes for a notable improvement in presentation.  It might also mark the first time a nuclear bomb is used in a movie in a way that doesn't feel contrived or ridiculous.

Nolan's script opens up the entire city and pushes every important supporting character to center stage alongside Batman. It could have easily felt like an Inception reunion with so many cast members from that film on board, but it doesn't because each is plugged into wildly different supporting roles that help piece together the ambitious narrative. Morgan Freeman's Lucius Fox probably has the least to do this time around while Michael Caine gets some of his most emotional moments in as Alfred. Despite being laid up in a hospital bed for nearly half the film, Oldman still manages to be as much of a force as Jim Gordon, this time eaten up with regret. And taking the requisite Eric Roberts/Tom Berenger veteran character comeback role in a Nolan movie, Matthew Modine turns in exceptionally solid work as a clueless, but power-hungry Deputy Commissioner Foley. 

If the Two-Face material felt shoehorned into the last act of the last film, than this one represents the most successful integration of two villains yet, if you want to classify Selina Kyle as a villain. Bane doesn't care about the haves or the have nots, the one percenters, or the rich getting richer, but Selina does and let's Bruce Wayne know about it. Yes, it's true she isn't referred to as "Catwoman"  by anyone during the course of the film which makes perfect sense since it wouldn't fly in this context. Of all the villains in the pantheon, Nolan was supposedly most resistant to incorporating this character into his grittier, more grounded universe, and it's hard to blame him. Michelle Pfeiffer's performance in Batman Returns, falsely held up as the gold standard, may have been appropriate for that film, but the interpretation is campy beyond belief, and that's coming from someone who loves the classic 60's TV series.

As the trailers have hinted, Anne Hathaway absolutely knocks it out of the park, delivering the definitive interpretation of the character by making her a believable human being with real motivations. Devastatingly sexy and lethally dangerous, Selina's damaged goods who might have past the point of redemption and I loved how the usually super-expressive Hathaway's eyes just seem to go dead. There's legitimate doubt which side she's on that lasts until practically the final scene, and is only enhanced by Hathaway playing Selina as if she might not know either. And I love the catsuit, which actually seems like a functional uniform for her job rather than a costume. She's also given just the right amount of screen time to make the necessary impact. Much like Ledger, in hindsight it seems impossible anyone would think she was miscast or another actress could have done this better. And I've thought it too. We couldn't have been more wrong.

Marion Cotillard's Miranda Tate is thankfully no Rachel Dawes, and along with Selina Kyle, finally disproves the allegation that Nolan is incapable of writing strong female characters.Calling Hathaway's performance the picture's strongest is high praise, especially considering Joseph Gordon-Levitt almost walks away with it. Despite what you may have heard, his part as Gotham cop John Blake is so huge in both camera time and importance that you may as well consider him a co-lead alongside Bale. As the only hopeful, idealistic cop left amidst a sea of corruption, he seems to understand Bruce Wayne in ways no one else can, and Levitt plays him as the ultimate good guy, struggling to hold on to his values even as his city collapses around him. The movie's as much about him as it is Batman.

There comes this point in the picture when Nolan does something we didn't think he'd ever do, that he swore he'd never do, and even Christian Bale said he better not even try. But somehow he pulls it off, and without us even realizing he did until it's over. It's surprising just how powerful this ending is. Talk about sticking the landing. It feels like the cherry on top of a sundae, bringing the saga circle and confirming that Nolan hasn't been overpraised for his resuscitation of a franchise that was left for dead before 2005's Batman Begins. Even when the execution had holes, his overall vision for the trilogy was airtight. So now the strongest film gets a somewhat divisive reaction. Why?  Because Ledger's not in it?

The Dark Knight Rises, besides actually being fun, feels like The Empire Strikes Back of the series, fulfilling all its lofty ambitions while still leaving us wanting more. Nolan could easily continue, but he's right to go out on top. Saving the best for last, he's come the closest to shaking the stigma associated with comic book movies by using its origins as a jumping-off point to something bigger. His work's done, but the beauty of the Batman franchise has always been how open it is to wildly different interpretations. Just pity the poor director who has to follow this one.

The Dark Knight

Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman
Running Time: 152 min.
Rating: PG-13

*** 1/2 (out of ****)

So, finally, here we are. The years of ongoing speculation. The restless anticipation. The viral marketing. The endless hype. The off screen tragedy. And I’m actually a little shocked. The Dark Knight is a great, wildly ambitious film, easily one of 2008's best and by far the best film in the series but I don't think it's a masterpiece and it did fall short of my expectations, which is almost understandable when they're this high. Unlike many, I had some minor issues with it. This is probably going to be the most negative review you read for the film and that I'm still highly praising it should give you an idea just how good it is, as if you didn't know already.

Going in I’ve heard his film compared to such epic crime dramas as The Godfather Part II and Heat and that's a revealing point. At times writer/director Christopher Nolan really does seem to believe he's re-making those films rather than giving us a summer action popcorn movie and I found myself I wondering if such a treatment was almost too much for this kind of material. In crafting a Batman drenched in gritty realism, he's made a film so deep, textured and intelligent that it's almost intimidating. It's so ambitious and he jams so much in that I actually worried the movie would slip away from him and co-writers Jonathan Nolan and David Goyer in the third act. It didn't, but that doesn't mean it couldn't have used a trim. However, if that's is the only price I have to pay to get a cinematic superhero rendering of this quality, so be it.

If we hit the low point in goofy camp with Joel Schumacher’s Batman and Robin we've now gone as far as possible in the other direction and Nolan’s pitch-black vision has been pushed to the limit. I don't even know where we can go from here. Even if we could argue all day whether the film is overhyped, there's one aspect of this film that surely isn't as an actor leaves us with the ultimate gift. Heath Ledger's performance as The Joker is not only as great as you've heard, it's better, and just about the most frighteningly display off villainy you'll ever witness on screen. But there's actually another supporting performance that's hasn't garnered as much attention that almost equals it in emotional complexity.

No need to worry about spoilers here. The film’s plot is so multi-layered I’m not sure I could give it away if I tried and you could have filled the entire Batman series with the plots and sub-plots contained within it. And Shakespearean tragedies don't have this much going on emotionally. The sequel picks up where Batman Begins left off with mob crime in Gotham City escalating even further under Lieutenant Jim Gordon’s (Gary Oldman) watch, except a new criminal mastermind by the name of The Joker (Ledger) is cutting in and creatively robbing the mob of its earnings. His first appearance, an electrifyingly bank robbery unlike any you could hope to see on film, provides a strong, unforgettable introduction to the psychotic villain.

There's also a “White Knight” whose stormed into Gotham City, district attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), a fair and honest legal crusader who wants to rid the streets of low-lives so there’s no longer a need for Batman (Christian Bale). He’s also dating and working alongside Bruce Wayne’s longtime love Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal, taking over for Katie Holmes). Rachel wrestles with her feelings for the new D.A. while still obviously carrying a torch for Bruce. She’ll have a choice to make. Meanwhile, Bruce struggles with his identity as Batman like never before, wondering whether his presence is actually helping the city, or burying it deeper in crime.
The film creates an awesome parallel between Joker and Batman, much more alike than different. “You Complete Me!” he tells the Caped Crusader. And he’s right. He does. Gotham City truly isn’t big enough for these two and you’d figure this could only end one way. Nolan has other, bigger plans though. Most of the first hour plays like a mob movie and a lot of time (maybe too much) is devoted to build-up. But the real satisfaction comes from Ledger’s Joker bubbling just below Gotham’s underbelly waiting to explode.

Played as a sick hybrid of Clockwork Orange’s Alex and Sid Vicious of The Sex Pistols, Joker bares no resemblance to any villain previously committed to film. It's truly the definitive portrayal of this iconic character, with Ledger making Cesar Romero and even Jack Nicholson look like clowns hired for a children's birthday party. Every moment he's on screen is pure terror and Nolan is smart enough to know the right dose of screen time to give him. Not too much, not too little. Just the perfect amount. There really aren't words to describe what he does and to say it's the greatest performance contained in a superhero movie is an insult because this is no superhero movie, nor does it feel like a "performance." Heath Ledger becomes The Joker. He inhabits him. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for what he does in this role and if I didn't know who was playing the part beforehand I would have never guessed it was him. He's physically unrecognizable. What surprised me most was how funny he was. Not haha funny, but scary-funny. Like a serial killer he storms into Gotham without reason or warning and no backstory is required or wanted because Ledger provides everything. It stays with you. A posthumous Oscar nomination isn't just a possibility, it's guaranteed. I'm skeptical whether the Academy would have considered nominating him unless he died, but that speaks for my lack of faith in them and their bias against the genre, not Ledger's work, which deserves to win. Who knew he had this in him?

When I first heard Ledger was cast in the role I wasn’t thrilled, mainly because of my unfamiliarity with his previous work, but he’s proven me, and any other doubters, completely wrong here. When the final credits rolled I felt immense sadness wondering about all the future great performances we’d be missing out on. But had he not tragically passed away and just retired on this role, his legacy would still be secure. That's how spellbinding this is.

Aside from Ledger’s Joker, Nolan does a good job spreading the wealth among the various supporting characters, but I wouldn’t expect anything less considering the film’s gargantuan running length. Michael Caine’s Alfred and Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox, who both had little more than cameo roles in Batman Begins, get much more screen time and are fleshed out with greater importance. Both contribute in big ways to the story and it’s a welcome change. Even more welcome is the contribution of Gary Oldman as Lieutenant Gordon this time around as he’s given a superb story arc that deepens and complicates his relationship with Batman as well as the citizens of Gotham. Oldman slides into the role effortlessly and I couldn't believe how important the part was. It's essentially treated as being on the same level as Batman. No one could ever accuse Nolan of skimping on character development.

Bale’s performance as Batman, truthfully, I found to be just okay. I thought his solid work in the previous film was slightly overpraised and don't even get me started on that silly voice Nolan has Bale use when he's behind the mask. I was always amazed that no one has a problem with that. Bruce Wayne for the first time in the series’ history really comes off as arrogant and I think that's intentional because the movie is working in shades of gray. The two morally compromised characters in the film are actually more likable than he is. It's easily the darkest rendering of the character yet, but it does serve the many themes of the story well.

Part of why Bruce Wayne is so hard to root for may be because he isn’t the real hero of the film. Harvey Dent is. Its no wonder he is since Aaron Eckhart gives a performance that’s only a few notches below Ledger’s, suggesting a depth and complexity to Gotham’s righteous district attorney that couldn’t have been on the page. I wasn’t only rooting for this guy, but felt deep sympathy for him as he tries to do the right thing only to unintentionally dig himself deeper by the second.
I know it’s a staple in the comics and I’ll be ripped apart for saying this, but the two-sided coin came off as a little cheesy to me. In a film so grounded in gritty realism it seemed cartoonish having this D.A. go around flipping a giant coin to make a decision every second. I know fans would have been enraged but if it were excised I wouldn't complain. Nolan did such a good job depicting the theme of chance within the story that seeing it seems almost unnecessary.

The visual treatment of Two-Face is spectacular and a giant step up from Tommy Lee Jones’ embarrassing makeup job in Batman Forever. This version looks like he was ripped directly from the comics and that was definitely the right way to go. I fully expected Eckhart to blow Jones' cackling cartoon Two-Face out of the water but Harvey Dent is a big, big deal in this movie and the journey Nolan takes him on is fascinating. He’s a victim of circumstance and Eckhart acts his heart out to sell the transformation even if the script overreaches a little with him toward the end. Still, of all the characters in the film, I probably cared about him the most.

Not surprisingly, Maggie Gyllenhaal does a solid job as Rachel and brings more nuance to the role than Katie Holmes did in the previous film. She's an actress that brings something interesting to every role she plays and for the most part this is no exception, but something did seem to be just a little off. For instance, take the scene you’ve seen in the trailers with The Joker crashing the dinner party and threatening Rachel. It’s supposed to be frightening and intense but because Maggie plays the character as a fiercely independent and feisty woman who can't be intimidated I wasn’t exactly afraid for her. As much as it pains me to admit this, something Katie Holmes was always good at was conveying innocence and Rachel could have used a little more of that here. Since the rest of the movie is drenched in gloom and doom that juxtaposition may have been intriguing. But Gyllenhaal brings other attributes to the role that Holmes could only dream of. For one, she's actually likable. She's also much more believable as a hardened attorney and has excellent chemistry with Eckhart. Her chemistry with Bale is iffier but I think that has more to do with Bale's darker, aloof rendering of Bruce Wayne than Gyllenhaal's performance. I didn't get exactly what I was hoping with Rachel Dawes and despite the strides made here it's still Nolan's least developed and most poorly written character. No actress would be winning awards for this role.

Despite everything Nolan’s trying to do here the field doesn’t start to get too crowded until the last 45 minutes or so. There was a point the film could have ended but Nolan just keeps going and takes Two-Face’s story further than it should have gone without completing the Joker’s. As I loved Eckhart’s work it there’s no need to jam that much in when another film is going to be made that could easily cover that territory. Eckhart's performance as Harvey Dent was so compelling I almost didn't want to see him turn into Two-Face and part of me wondered the direction the story could take if he didn't because let's face it: His transformation is a big stretch. This film deals with some heady issues like the possibility of evil and corruption, national security, the burden of personal responsibility and the need for heroes, or rather if they really even exist. The final twist of the knife is not only surprising, but thought provoking and will leave you in a state of deep contemplation. How many times could you say that about a superhero film?  A major story thread is left dangling in the most literal sense and there's no way it could ever possibly be resolved. Perhaps fittingly.


The film runs 2 and a half hours but I can't say I thought it flew by like everyone else did. This is more a crime drama than an action movie and it requires your complete attention. There were a few points during the film where I was even getting restless and wondered why certain scenes (specifically in the first and last hours) weren’t left on the cutting room floor. The actions sequences were exciting and thankfully didn't rely on an overabundance of CGI, or at least didn't look like they did.

Mostly due to the viewing conditions (poor air conditioning and screaming kids) this was a grueling experience, rather than a thrilling one and I didn't come rushing out of the theater in a state of cosmic euphoria and excitement. In fact, it took me some time to completely gather my thoughts on the film and I had even written a review before this one that I had scrapped. Even now my thoughts on the movie are still very raw and it still probably needs a lot of time to settle. I was also unprepared for just how much the excessive hype would effect me going in. It really took a toll. "Let's get it over with" isn't the most desirable attitude to approach a film with but unfortunately the media put me in that position. I can tell myself all of these factors don't make a difference, but who am I kidding? It'll be interesting to see when I re-watch it on DVD whether the minor problems I had with it iron out or get worse.
I just recently ranked the Batman films and I wouldn't even dare place this because I don’t consider it a Batman film. Going in I didn't expect something more akin to Zodiac or There Will Be Blood than any superhero movie and I'm curious to see how this does in the coming weeks because this doesn't fit the textbook definition of mainstream, crowd-pleasing summer entertainment. I can't help but think something may have been slightly lost in taking this approach, as if the superhero movie was robbed of its virginity...at knife point. But I'll bite the bullet because it's too cinematically challenging to do otherwise. I don't know if it's a masterpiece as a whole, but many parts of it (specifically the work of Ledger and Eckhart) could qualify as such.

The friend I saw it with agreed with the general consensus that it was a masterpiece and the greatest superhero film ever made. Then I asked him if he had fun. He danced around the question, talking about the performances and the visuals until he finally told me it didn’t have to be fun, just faithful to Bob Kane’s original vision of the character. It became clear right then and there that the rules have changed. That we finally got what we've been waiting for and found out what would happen if all our previously held expectations of these kinds of movies were just thrown away. Only the bat suit and clown make-up remain. It's Batman, envisioned by Christopher Nolan. The Dark Knight changed the landscape and, for better or worse, we won't be able to view superhero movies the same way again.