Something for everyone

Rating: 9/10 (5 August 2012)

One has to applaud the way the bold, ambitious Christopher Nolan so deftly answers the cries of both his discerning cinematically well- educated critics, who can praise his work as knowledgeable peers, and his eager layman audience that show him their innocent pleasures, and, more practically, provide him with funds. His films to date are surprisingly few, but undeniably memorable, and mostly large-scale, big- budget thrilling blockbusters boasting hefty themes and impressive star- studded line-ups, often including smooth screen favourite Michael Caine. All of them, from the frenetic Memento to the awe-inspiring Inception have been dramatically complex and thematically intriguing, whilst also containing enough thrills and excitement to hold the attention of masses of casual moviegoers and finance its grand production. He undoubtedly deserves to be one of the small handful of directors in the marquee.
Batman has proved such perfect fit for him because he is also incredibly versatile. With the playfully eerie interpretation from Tim Burton in the 80s, and now Nolan's impressively believable and powerfully gritty take on the famous character, both drawing on the dark complexity of the mysterious caped crusader, this DC Comics character has proved to be the superhero for people who don't normally like superheroes.
Batman Begins (2005) was emotionally arresting in its depiction of Bruce Wayne's slow transformation into the dark vigilante after his parents were destroyed in a struggle against Gotham's filthily corrupt engine of organised crime, and the even uglier League of Shadows built him up into a formidable fighter before he learned its true nature and turned against it. Bruce's malformed but solid grief-stricken heroic spirit, carried off so believably by Christian Bale, and the supernatural wonderment of Batman's powers were among the film's greatest strengths.
However, in its sequel, The Dark Knight (2008), Batman's mystique had faded miserably, and Bale wandered dispassionately between playing a self-righteous entrepreneur and an expressionless, hoarse robotic boxer. That film was unquestionably dominated by Heath Ledger's entertainingly creepy and philosophically fascinating Joker, a characterisation that was so far ahead of the rest of the film that everything was thrown out of kilter.
None of the characters in The Dark Knight Rises are on par with the Joker, but they're all splendid nonetheless, and the trilogy's closer is certainly more even-handed than its muddled middle instalment. It is a carefully constructed film that largely centres on despair and desperation, with Batman's self-imposed exile resulting in Bruce's as well, as we see just how reliant he is on his alter ego to give him purpose. His body, mind, social life and business have all become decrepit after eight years of neglect.
This is, until a feisty, cunning jewel thief, the here unstated but unmistakable Catwoman (a surprisingly fierce Anne Hathaway) spurs him back into action once he discovers that she is stealing from him. The latest of her never-ending, socially irredeemable crimes are noticeably linked to that of the formidable Bane (an unrecognisable Tom Hardy) the brutal, muscle-bound terrorist we meet in the prologue in a similar fashion to our introduction to the Joker, although he is much less subtle and unpredictable. Somehow linked to the League of Shadows, Bane is not an independent anarchist, but a self-righteous dictator who believes the only way to be rid of corruption is to be rid of everything else in existence. He is a solid, intimidating tyrant who's razor-ship observations are articulated in and unnervingly evil voice distorted electronically to sound as otherworldly as the psychedelic tones of the Scarecrow (with whom Cillian Murphy makes another memorable appearance) and thankfully not too comically deep-sounding. He is convincingly indomitable, even if he is still scientifically as destructible as his foes, so much so that our beloved bat and cat are frequently made to seem powerless and insignificant, and their mortifying naivety is revealed.
After the still tormented Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) is put out of action after a frightening encounter with him and his cronies in the sewer tunnels that no other policeman will be convinced of, plucky new Officer Blake (the charming Joseph Gordon-Levitt) appeals to Bruce to re-emerge and save the city, speaking to him as a fellow orphan. His loyal butler Alfred (Caine) fears that Bruce might morbidly relish the crisis as an opportunity to plunge himself into a danger that, on this occasion, seems greater than ever before, and it seems as though he might soon lose even his valued companionship.
Amidst this richly textured realism, however, there are still the playful elements of its comic book origins. However long the complications might be shrouded in hopelessness, there are still ways for our heroes to prevail in the end. As seriously as we might take Bane, despite his cartoonish mask, he still gets to say "impossible!" like so many villains before him when the good guys make a miraculous comeback. There's still a bomb that must be disarmed with barely a few seconds to go, and orphans, albeit less gratuitous ones, to save if this fails. At an extreme low point in the film, an unwelcome sudden divergence is made in the motives of an enigmatic, but ultimately uninteresting spare femme fatale with whom fine French actress Marion Cotillard tries to imbue the same eerie mystique possessed by her character in Inception (2010) but is constantly let down by the Nolan brothers' otherwise astutely written screenplay.
Thank goodness that the rest of this 164-minute escapist masterpiece is so entrancing, and also buoyed by the exhilarating scoring from the great Hans Zimmer.