Dark midKnight show

I never thought I’d see the day when a director would render Tim Burton's work as cotton candy fare. Looking back on the beloved first Batman movie, with Jack Nicholson’s playfulness and Michael Keaton’s two-dimensionality, it’s clear that Christopher Nolan’s new series is not about having fun. Of course, it’s hard for me to admit those things about Tim Burton’s Batman. I still ask, “Where does he get those wonderful toys?” and “Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?” every chance I get. Perhaps the truth is that 1989 was just a simpler and happier time, when even psychologically tormented men who “moonlight” as caped crusaders could keep it light. Nolan wants to examine heroes and villains much more closely in The Dark Knight, and his viewpoint is a dark one, shadowed further by Heath Ledger’s untimely death.

Nolan loves to answer the questions asked in Tim Burton’s films. Batman gets his toys from the thoroughly good closet nerd engineer Lucious Fox (Morgan Freeman). Why, yes, as it so happens, Batman has danced with the devil in the pale moonlight. Dark Knight is essentially a long and complicated tango between Christian Bale and Heath Ledger, where Burton’s Batman and Joker were a sort of palatable half moon cookie—both enjoyable and easily digested. Nolan parallels many of Burton’s scenes, such as in an empty city street when Batman comes barreling down on the Joker. There’s also a similar heart-to-twisted-heart moment on the top floor of a tall building in the conclusion. Though Nolan takes both Burton’s scenes and flips them over on their head, quite literally.

I don’t know whether it was because I saw the midnight show, but the movie’s dark implications made for fitful sleep, as I turned all of Nolan’s motifs in my head: good and evil, love and duty, justice and righteousness, and you could go on all night, which I actually did. Nolan’s focus is off of why Batman came to be, but more how he can continue to be. The other installments were happy to leave certain aspects unanswered (read: toys and stamina), but Nolan actually shows Batman’s battle scars and imprisonment. Bruce Wayne never fully realized how incarcerating his cape would be.

That being said, there were countless times when the audience laughed aloud, so it’s not a complete downer. Ledger’s performance is a beautiful one to watch. He has fun with it, but truly owns the Joker’s twisted soul, right down to the terrifying nervous twitch of licking his lips constantly. His performance lends the question: what came first, Ledger’s demons or the role of the Joker? A sort of chicken and egg conundrum. There’s been Oscar talk, which is justified upon seeing Ledger’s Joker.

Bale, as always, delivers. I think he will become the resident “series restorer” as demonstrated by the preview before The Dark Knight for Terminator: the Salvation. Bale can wear the suit—both bat and Armani. He wears Batman’s righteousness and frankness on his knife-adorned bat sleeve, and naively wears his affection for Rachel Dawes on his pinstriped sleeve. One wonders if the audience will ever tire of seeing Bruce Wayne suffer as he tries to really live when his is mask off. The answer is a wholehearted no—as long as Bale is at the helm.

Maggie Gyllenhal, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman, and Michael Cane are also great components of Nolan’s twisted tapestry. The script gift-wraps some of the more melodramatic and better lines of the film for Michael Cane, and he, of all people, can sincerely deliver them. Oh, and obviously the script has some nuggets for Freeman, though he can make any line sound like Robert Frost caliber poetry (even a line like: "Oh, you want to be able to turn your head in your new suit.") Aaron Eckhart holds his own among Bale and Gyllenhal, despite the audience’s loyalty and sharper attention for Wayne and Dawes. We vaguely see why Rachel may be tempted by a capeless life with Harvey Dent. Nolan also demonstrates his dominance over this series by seamlessly evolving Harvey Dent’s transition to Two Face.

The Dark Knight will require more and more viewings to fully wrap one’s head around it. Gotham and it’s citizens—both masked and unmasked—are clearly in for far more three dimensional problems, at least while Nolan’s in charge Though, I am sure each viewing will offer up a new philosophical cookie—much more complex and richly sinful than Burton’s half moon one—to munch and ponder. Again, it’s not that we didn’t like Burton’s batch, it’s just that Nolan’s is like tollhouse on smart and bad-ass steroids.

Must Be the Suit

A rainy blue July 5th ended up being the perfect day for seeing Kabluey. It is a comedy at face value, but it dabbles in some somber themes—war, motherhood, and “loserhood.” America is used to the first two themes, and most comedies (think Knocked Up and all Owen Wilson movies) make “loserhood” their singular theme. Scott Prendergast, the writer, director and main character of the film, makes this theme a bit more three dimensional, particularly with the use of a rather remarkable blue mascot-like suit.

Salman, played by Prendergast, resorts to taking a job that involves donning a giant blue suit and handing out flyers. His humiliation is apparent, but Salman, so often snubbed by others, soon takes refuge behind the large head. The suit is alternately funny, scary, and adorable. Kabluey makes a point to fully appreciate the comic effect of the suit, which never seems to get old. Salman learns that the blue costume, like all costumes, allows him to slowly shake free from his coma-like state. By coming out of his shell in the costume, he can cut loose in his own skin. As an English major, I got a big kick out of the suit just because of its rich symbolism. Well, I got a kick out of that and the scenes when Salman reaches for a beer can out of the zip up hole in the suit’s rear end…

The only “big” actor in the cast is Lisa Kudrow. For once, she doesn’t play a relocated Phoebe from Friends. She effortlessly captures the wife of a deployed soldier trying to make ends meet with two sons, who are essentially demon children in the beginning. Always known for her light comic touch, Kudrow’s ability to capture the sheer weariness of her character is impressive.

Kabluey is unassumingly charming. Prendergast doesn’t try too hard, but takes the plot and characters further than simple blue suit gags. Like most movies, the ending seemed to be the trickiest part to work out. I wasn’t quite sure it was the best one, then again I couldn’t think of a better way to end it. But like Salman, I exited the movie with a smile and found that while watching, the rain had passed.

Will Power

It’s a good thing that Will Smith wears sunglasses for a large part of Hancock, because if he didn’t, we’d see him winking at us. Will Smith: blockbuster actor or master con artist? He’s the latter, since with average performances and storylines, he rakes in the big bucks. I walked out of Hancock realizing that I’ve surrendered my pocket money to him countless times--I even saw I, Robot in theaters! Yet, none of his movies is going to change your life for the better. I would liken most of his movies to a third slice of pizza—completely palatable but totally unnecessary. Like that last slice, you’re not really sure why you gave into Hancock.

I must preface this entry with the fact that I have never bothered to try and see Ali or The Pursuit of Happyness. Arguably, Will Smith was giving cinema and acting a good honest try with those movies, and not trying to con the audience. I don’t know whether or not that reflects badly upon me....

Hancock starts off as an interesting take on the superhero movie. Hancock, blessed with basically 90% of Superman’s powers (minus the eye lasers and maybe some others), is a drunkard who happens to save the day sometimes, though at the price of destroying LA in the process. We catch on that his inebriation level contributes to his less-than-smooth landings and the obvious lack of follow through in his strategizing. In this day and age, superhero movies are all about elaborate action sequences where not only does the superhero manage to think everything through, but they also account for all spontaneous disasters with quick adjustment in their pace, hand eye coordination, and perhaps an impromptu prop. So, it’s very novel to see Hancock stop the train, only to cause a 24-train car pile up behind it.

Halfway through the film, however, it is blatantly obvious that the writers of Hancock ran out of coffee or ideas, or maybe even both. Their “explanation” for how and why Hancock came to be is just flat out lazy. By presenting the most vague reasoning possible, the writers sort of trail off and try to distract the audience with another action sequence. It’s not the best ploy ever, but they knew that Will Smith is a master con artist and that it would probably end up just fine. By “just fine,” I mean a weekend gross of 60 something million and over 100 million for the entire long weekend. Though, the question is whether or not gentle warnings, like mine here, will deter prospective audience members.

Jason Bateman is amusing as always. Charlize Theron plays the token hot woman role well enough. I think she was also meant to serve as part of the pyrotechnics to distract the audience from the “plot holes” that the writers weakly fill. Hancock is a decent summer movie but, like when you reach for your last slice of pizza, you should think long and hard before taking a bite.