Nolan's half-hearted apocalypse, eviscerated by incompetent editing and scoring.

Rating: 3/10 (5 July 2005)

There are two slight references to F. W. Murnau's Faust in this new film from Christopher Nolan, and they are two of the slightly brighter spots in this dark, muddy and often incoherent film. One occurs in flashback - young Bruce going to Faust as an opera, where dancers and singers float around on strings, and the violent music threatens to overwhelm. Little Bruce, unnerved by the diabolical proceedings, leaves the theater, where his real troubles begin. The second occurs after Batman has, and this is a spoiler, essentially failed to prevent citizens of Gotham from being subjected to a fear-inducing gas. So they, in the throes of this psychotropic drug, look into the air and see Batman flying overhead, his eyes glowing red and the general effect being eerily similar to Emil Jannings wrapping his dark satanic wings around a medieval German city.
Neither of these moments have any substantial weight because they are unsupported by the film as a whole - the Faustian theme of whether one can enact one's dream and retain the soul is totally abandoned thematically, replaced with an immature social conscience that is unabashedly pretentious - with every sweeping movement of the score the Hollywood system is demanding that we recognize what we see as of critical importance, and intelligent. The film seems to ask questions regarding the rightness of the vigilante way, and perhaps what is necessary to combat evil, but fundamentally the thoughts of the film have all the weight of vapor. There's no guiding theme which is informed by the visuals of the film, and ultimately the entire project degenerates into the predictable life-threatening situation, where somehow the day must (and, no surprises here, will) be saved. The Faust angle is slightly touched on at the very end, when a completely directionless Katie Holmes says something only half-meaningful about who Bruce Wayne actually is.
The dialogue is embarrassing, the editing shameful. Not only are the fight scenes difficult to digest with the relentless quick-cutting, but almost the entire film is paced as an action sequence. The narrative moves from scene to scene with no change in pace, no grace and no thought towards creating a film which works cohesively. Every action has supposedly profound meaning, with the exception of a few trite one-liners. The end result is a story operatically simple but utterly lacking in depth. A simple movie suited for simple minds which desire to have complexity with none of the effort. That, perhaps, is the devil's bargain for the audience. The third bargain is that of Christopher Nolan who has the opportunity to use as much money as he wants, but only ends up debasing himself. One can tell that he's trying, and there are some nice visuals, some good performance - even good ideas, but they are swamped by the incessant score and the hapless editing.
Katie Holmes is pretty awful, Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine bring themselves and nothing else, and Christian Bale's vocalizations as the Batman are closer to the Macho Man Randy Savage than the Dark Knight. Tom Wilkinson is a stereotype, but a well-done one. Liam Neeson and Cillian Murphy are the only two who really impress - Neeson has a tangible commitment to his arch plan, and Murphy gives the viewer a psychopathic glee. The Scarecrow is an almost intellectual villain - he calls his own image a Jungian archetype.
All I asked was one shot - just one, that went on longer than five seconds. The camera has been emasculated - the only power that's in this entire work are the images of a city in flames vaguely reminiscent of Bruegel. They do not have the clarity and savagery of any of his paintings, and are ultimately as meaningless to the viewer as that part of the city is to the narrative. The art has been abandoned, ignored, and consequently withers. Christopher Nolan must decide whether his partnership with Hollywood was worth it.