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Mike Wilmington

By Mike Wilmington Wilmington@moviecitynews.com

Wilmington on DVDs: The Dark Knight Rises

 

CO-PICK OF THE WEEK: NEW

THE DARK KNIGHT RISES (Three and a Half Stars)

U.S.: Christopher Nolan, 2012.

1.  The Rise

 

A visual marvel and a hellaciously exciting action movie, a show also full of doom, gloom, violence and unexpected poetry and emotion — and very little humor of any kind — The Dark Knight Rises is the latest movie incarnation, and one of the most numbingly spectacular, of the adventures of Bob Kane‘s legendary caped comic-book crime-buster Batman a.k.a. rich guy Bruce Wayne. It’s Batman as interpreted by Christopher Nolan (in the last movie of Nolan‘s Dark Knight Trilogy), and, very simply, and despite flaws, he just burns up the screen with this movie — including the IMAX screens, during its theatricl release, as it happens, which means it was a bigger conflagration and crystal clear.

IMAX, and the way Nolan uses it, was one of the big, big attractions of The Dark Knight Rises. But so are what’s left on the DVD by Nolan and Company — the backstage and technical ensemble that includes his co-writer/brother Jonathan, cinematographer Wally Pfister, composer Hans Zimmer, editor Lee Smith, production designer Nathan Crowley and the visual effects and special effects supervisors Paul Franklin and Chris Corbould.

Also aboard for this $250 million roller-coaster ride is a fine troupe of actors (some new to the series, some not, some veterans of Nolan‘s last movie, Inception), including Christian Bale (as the damaged and reclusive Bruce Wayne, alias The Batman), Anne Hathaway (as saucy cat burglar Selena Kyle, alias The Catwoman), Tom Hardy (as the brutal, wire-faced terrorist-killer Bane), Michael Caine (a real treat reprising his role as the Wayne Mansion’s majestically sage butler/chauffer/philosopher Alfred), Morgan Freeman (as the Wayne Industries mastermind Lucius Fox), Gary Oldman (as the integral and vulnerable Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon), Joseph Gordon-Levitt (as John Blake, the good cop and Batman fan), and Marion Cotillard as the woman who might be Wayne’s savior (and more, if he‘s willing), Miranda Tate. (Hmm. Not Miranda Tautou?)

Everything becomes jaw-droppingly magnified in the images — from the mid-air nightmare that begins the movie (a James Bond-style skyjacking episode, with the plane‘s nose sheared off and pointed skyward while villains climb the hull), to Bruce Wayne’s nerve-jangling ascent in the pit where he’s imprisoned by Bane, to the all-out terrifying terror-assaults by Bane on the Stock Exchange, the New York City bridge system and the N. F L. (Gotham City’s team are the Rogues) and to the super-inflated, rip-roaring street races and chases, some of which look like The French Connection on steroids.

The plot is, at bottom, standard super-hero comic book stuff: Boy Meets Villain. Villain Bests Boy. Boy Bests Villain. (The fate of the world may or may not be hanging in the balance, depending on how ambitious the visual and special effects people are.) Here, Bruce Wayne is just about to emerge from eight years as a Wayne Mansion Howard Hughes-ish recluse (too long) after his loss, in The Dark Knight, of his beloved Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and after the death of Two Face, lawman/criminal Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), and the pariah status Batman received because of it. But, after an (also) eight year respite of criminal activity, hell is about to stalk Gotham’s (or Manhattan’s) streets once more, foaming at the mouth, spreading wanton destruction, and throwing out allusions to The French Revolution and Charles Dickens‘ “A Tale of Two Cities.” “It is a far, far better thing I do here than I have ever done…” (I like Memento better.)

Here, the Boss Villain is Bane, the ultimate terrorist, a bulked-up super-wrestler wearing a strange steel-wire-looking lower-facial contraption that makes him look like an insane hockey player (Jason’s coach?) — a cold-blooded murderer with eyes like chainsaws, heavy artillery at his side, and a voice like Darth Vader, gargling –sometimes Darth Vader trying to do a Sydney Greenstreet impression, gargling. (Actually, when Batman dons his sharp-looking black mask — so sharp that whenever he kisses Catwoman, you worry about him scratching her with his nose — he sounds like he’s doing a Clint Eastwood impression, gargling.) Bane is employed by a bunch of Wall Street Wolves, hot to take over Wayne Industries, but Bane is an unreliable employee and his larger plan is to plant a nuclear bomb somewhere in New York City, and otherwise wreak havoc.

Also around, occasionally illegal, but to our frequent delight, is the bouncy, impudent Catwoman (Hathaway, smoking). The good guys include Batman, Alfred, Lucius, Gordon, and Blake the cop, and other cops. (At times, Nolan puts more beat cops on the street than Buster Keaton did in his Cops.) The bad guys include Bane and his Mercenary (Josh Stewart), the Wall Street Wolves and the rest of Bane’s gang, including all the felons he lets out of prison. The gals are Catwoman and Miranda. But it’s more Boy Meets Villain…

2. The Fall

By the way, the fate of the world, or at least the fate of Gotham City — and maybe tomorrow the world — does hang in the balance. Gotham City quakes. Well, what did you expect as the closer: a wrestling match between Batman and Bane in Gotham Central Park, followed by an Insider Trader’s Ball at Gotham Lincoln Center? I told you this movie cost 250 million smackers. Which means, if it were a person (or a corporation) it’d be headed for a tax hike.

Was it worth it? Financially, no doubt. Artistically maybe. It’s a great comic book movie. But how many comic book movies, let alone great ones, do we really need? Wouldn’t it be better, or just as good, artistically and maybe even financially, to try to make more movies like the greater and more realistic and more humane movie epics of the past: Lawrence of Arabia, Gone with the Wind (without the racism), All Quiet on the Western Front, Apocalypse Now, Seven Samurai, The Leopard, The Searchers, Bondarchuk’s complete Russian War and Peace, or that fantastic, poor, mad, money-losing masterpiece (and prayer for peace) Intolerance? Or, more recently, The Lord of the Rings? Movies with spectacle and scripts, action and ideas, adventure and humanity?

Anyway, if we get many more comic book movies, and we probably will, it’s obvious that people like Nolan (and Company) should be making them — or, better yet, Nolan-with-a-sense-of-humor (and Company). That said, the ending here sure makes it look like the head filmmaker of The Dark Knight Rises has finally had enough of this gig, at least for now. So. Rise, Batman, rise. Bane be gone. And Catwoman, you’re a doll.

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Wilmington

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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon