Film Review: The Dark Knight (2008)
I saw The Dark Knight at a midnight showing the night it debuted back in 2008. I wish I could recall more about what I thought of it then, but the only thing that stuck with me was Heath Ledger’s Joker. Aside from that, I couldn’t remember a damned thing from my first viewing—and that’s telling. The Dark Knight takes itself too seriously. Director Christopher Nolan imagines his film as a think piece—a deep and important film, capable of immense emotion and weighty concepts—but it’s mostly just a bore. If it weren’t for Ledger’s Joker, there wouldn’t be much to hold onto.
Nolan is fond of making big movies with big ideas. He has a penchant for abstract thought that I (mostly) appreciate. Conceptually, I’m on board with most of his films, even if some of them don’t quite work the way I’d like them to. The attempted complexity and depth of The Dark Knight’s story bogs down any fun that might have been had. And I say attempted complexity very deliberately. Nolan is too focused on being moody and brooding to allow any breathing room or real character development (with the possible exception of Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent). He confuses this grimness with importance, causing, at times, near laughable deliveries. He then overcompensates with over-long action sequences ad nauseum.
And just what are these heavy themes and important abstractions Nolan is trying to achieve? Well, that’s a good question. Strangely, the insane ramblings of The Joker make the most sense and are the most defined. He finds the world doomed and unsalvageable, and so chooses to burn down the whole structure. Batman/Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), Gordon (Gary Oldman), and Harvey Dent seem to be only concerned with stopping criminals—locking them up. They never once stop to look at the system which created these dangerous streets of Gotham in the first place—refusing to analyze the real problem that, perhaps, they are complicit in. Nolan’s big concept seems to be that crime is bad and must be wiped out. Bathing each scene in darkness doesn’t make this any more palatable or thoughtful. It’s reactionary, plain and simple—and it’s wrong. To insult us further, he offers that our only hope for salvation is a weaponized police force, a politician, and a billionaire. I’m no expert on Batman comic book history, but I’ve never identified with this uncompromising view of criminality and penchant for Civil Rights violations. I like Joker’s idea of burning all the money better.
Adding to this faux-profundity is Nolan’s uninspired and perfunctory direction. It’s by the books, and while that may work for some, it doesn’t for me. I need pizazz. I need to be shown that thought went into each sequence—that some steps were taken to make each scene special. Nolan often impresses me in this regard, but I found myself so surprisingly underwhelmed that I’m sure I resembled a lump of expressionless clay to anyone passing by. Formally, The Dark Knight is paint-by-numbers when it easily could have and should have wowed.
Heath Ledger clearly steals the show. He is simply astounding, and the entire reason I recommend the film. The Joker has been played many times by many actors over the years, with each bringing their own special zeal to the role (I haven’t seen Jared Leto’s version yet), but Ledger is in a league of his own. The madness, intelligence, and lust for chaos are entirely captivating from start to finish. Even through the insanity, Ledger brings a sense of comprehension and understanding to the craziness. I get The Joker. Ledger won a host of posthumous acting awards for his role, including an Academy Award. His untimely death notwithstanding, he deserved every single one of them.
The rest of the cast is fine—with Eckhart, Oldman, Morgan Freeman as Luscious Fox, and Michael Caine as Alfred—delivering perfectly acceptable. Maggie Gyllenhaal, as love interest Rachel Dawes, is underused. She makes the best of what she’s given, but the damsel in distress routine is played out and tired. Bale is the exception to the rest of the capable cast. I may finally be coming to terms with the fact that I don’t like him much as an actor. I’ve been fighting it for years (he’s been in a handful of films I’ve really enjoyed, dating back to 1987’s Empire of the Sun), but he’s soured on me. His raspy and forced “Batman” voice is absurd. I can’t take it seriously.
If you’re into reactionary policing tactics disguised as intellectualism and conceptual depth, you’re in the right place. The same goes if you’re after thinly-veiled self-importance and lackluster artistic merit. I recommend the film, but don’t watch it for the cinematography, and don’t root for the “good guys.” Watch if for Heath Ledger and The Joker—and then imagine the film without them.
