Review: "The Dark Knight Rises"

Director: Christopher Nolan
Runtime: 165 minutes

To say that expectations have been high for The Dark Knight Rises would be a monumental understatement. Christopher Nolan certainly got off on the right foot with the 2005 reboot Batman Begins, bringing a brooding and gritty vibe to Gotham's Caped Crusader. With Nolan at the helm, the story of Bruce Wayne took on a newfound sense of darkness and dread, devoid of the campy sensibility that so pervaded Tim Burton's two late 80s/early 90s films and the much-maligned Joel Schumacher films (Batsuit nipples; never forget). Here was a superhero movie that stood, more than any before it, as a testament to the post-9/11 mindset of America, and the world at large. 

Now, I'll admit, I've avoided using the term "post-9/11" to describe Nolan's bat-flicks until just now. Yes, the two (now three) films exist in a darker and more realistic world, but the thematic connection to 9/11 seemed not to click. But the mind has a way of working these things out when we least expect it. Nolan's films show realistically rendered depictions of attacks on American soil in so many ways that have otherwise been absent in comic book adaptations. 

Violence, even for superheroes, was now capable of achieving a rather chilling resonance, whether it was watching Ra's Al Ghul try to launch a biological attack on Gotham in Begins, or watching the Joker's attempts to instigate anarchy across the city, the threats felt more powerful because we lived in an age where A) these things were eerily possible and B) we knew there were people out there who wanted to hurt us. If Sam Raimi's first two Spiderman films (and to a lesser extent, the first two X-Men films) took comic book movies into late adolescence, Batman Begins took them into full-blown adulthood.

Yet it was 2008's The Dark Knight, with a large debt owed to a certain Mr. Ledger, that turned Nolan's series into a critical and financial mega hit. In addition to the gushing praise for Ledger's turn as the Joker, Nolan's film also became labeled as the best comic book movie of all time. And, among certain segments of the population, it has even been hailed as one of the best movies of all time. Period. As in, people were prepared to compare it to The Godfather (let's not go there).

The big question for Nolan and company, of course, then became "how do we finish this trilogy without letting people down?" And when it comes to answering that question on paper, The Dark Knight Rises seems firmly headed in the right direction. Instead of trying to repeat the success of The Dark Knight's iconic villain - a lone figure who essentially defined the film - Nolan has split villain duties (sort of) between Tom Hardy's hulking Bane and Anne Hathaway's slippery Selina Kyle (Catwoman, sans moniker). Lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice, and Nolan was smart to try and spread the role of antagonist among multiple characters.

Yet for all that seems okay on paper, there are equally as many missteps in the writing and in the execution on-screen. There are many individual aspects to pick apart, but it all fits under one giant umbrella: Nolan (and co-writer/brother Jonathan Nolan) have simply tried to cram in too much, despite the 2 hr 45 min duration. Batman Begins contained itself with ease, and The Dark Knight, despite sometimes bursting at the seams, managed to hold all of its pieces together, if just barely. Yet the pressure to create an epic and satisfying ending has, unfortunately, blasted a massive crater in the franchise's armor. The characters and subplots are many, yet even with nearly three hours, there's barely room for any of it to breathe. Combine these problems with the serious tone and massive expectations, The Dark Knight Rises often buckles under its own weight.

Nolan has never made a film that I've found dull, but here he's finally made one where I was actively distracted by the pacing issues. The scenes don't drag so much as they feel like Nolan has misplaced the emphasis. After a fun, Bond-style opening introducing Bane, the movie settles in for quite a bit of set up, which involves everything from a cop (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) trying to help a boys' shelter, to a Wayne Industries board member who won't stop inquiring about an abandoned clean energy project (Marion Cotillard), to Bruce Wayne's physical and emotional recovery after eight years away from his alter ego. Nolan has so many dots to connect that he often races things along. It gives one the feeling that the writer/director simply expects us to just go with each development without daring to question it. The film may never become stagnant (thanks again, Lee Smith), but so often it feels, well, off. As lovely as Ms. Cotillard is, the romance that develops between her and Bruce comes right the hell out of nowhere, only so that it can be used later for a BIG moment that ultimately rings hollow and completely wastes the actress.

All of this is compounded by two big issues: dialogue and narrative structure. Nolan's tendency to have his characters spell out themes and motivations has, sadly only become a bigger problem since Inception. Sometimes it feels entirely appropriate (variations of Begins' "Why do we fall? So we can pick ourselves up again" line), yet often it’s just unnecessary. The personalities of the characters struggle to shine through because they're burdened with such heavy dialogue and thin characterization (as such, the series' returning players achieve the strongest emotional resonance). As for the structure, Nolan falls into an odd cycle of repetition. I'll avoid the details, but the film essentially puts Bruce Wayne through an arc of physical and emotional recovery twice during the film, when all it does is eat up time. It's the second arc that really deserves the time, yet a period of nearly half a year ends up flashing by so the film can charge into its conclusion. Not only does the second arc have the potential for more resonance, but it's also more interesting in what it reveals about Bane, and how it brings the trilogy full circle.

And so when all hell breaks loose in the finale, Nolan is stuck making a bunch of revelations and cutting among a bunch of threads so that they can reach their conclusions. On their own, any one of them could have worked, but in trying to be so epic in scope, the film accomplishes the plots with most of them not coming off as meaning much. In the end, only Wayne and Batman's story, though it has its share of rushed moments and implausibility, resonates. Against all odds its ending provides a lump-in-the-throat moment amid an otherwise emotionally-distant film.

That's not to say that the film is a complete loss, by any means. There's quite a bit that's well done, once one looks past the flaws. The performers, at least those with something to work with (sorry Ms. Cotillard, Ben Mendelsohn, Matthew Modine...) are all perfectly engaging. Bale does nice work in his last run as Wayne/Batman, adding an extra amount of pain and exhaustion where the script fails him. Hardy's Bane is also enjoyable, and his oddly suave and cheeky tone make him a compelling presence, even though he lacks the Joker's overt psychotic tendencies. The film's biggest and best surprise, however, is Hathaway, who manages to make Selina teasingly sexy without making her ludicrously sexual. Watching her switch her personality on and off with an effortless snappiness is one of the film's strongest elements, even though Nolan saddles her with a strange subplot in which she's looking for a powerful computer program.

On the production front the film is also aces, with nice cinematography and art direction. The only puzzling exception is that, for the first time, Gotham actually looks like it's made up of multiple cities (scenes were shot in New York, Los Angeles, and Pittsburgh), instead of a cohesive metropolis. Hans Zimmer's kettle drum-heavy score, despite being repetitive, is used nicely to either enhance the tension and momentum, or add them when the film can't quite generate them on its own. And, as much as Nolan is to blame for the film's flaws, he also deserves credit for some of its successes. As a director, he remains capable of moving an audience through a dense narrative with surprising ease, despite the problems that pop up along the way. And, when it comes to pulling out show stopping moments that actually carry weight, his skills remain firmly intact. A massive attack at a football stadium is, besides massive in scale, truly stomach-churning, and the aforementioned finale is nicely handled despite the borderline ridiculous circumstances.

How it ends, I won't say, but at the very least Nolan ends with his best foot forward, more or less. The journey can be rough and overcrowded, but at the very least the ambition deserves some level of admiration, even when the execution sometimes falls short. Unfortunately, it's not just a case of expectations. The film is easily the weakest of Nolan's trilogy, despite some compelling stretches and decent acting. It may improve with time, once the disappointment has worn off and the flaws accepted, but it's a shame that such an adult-minded trilogy had to start tripping over itself as it crossed the finish line. As far as its craftsmanship and ambition, however, The Dark Knight Rises is still more successful than your average summer blockbuster. But in trying to cover so many bases instead of just cutting to the core narrative, this franchise's epic final chapter struggles to stay afloat. It doesn't sink, but only by a hair's breadth, thanks to its conviction and the goodwill built up from its two vastly superior predecessors.

Grade: B-