Batman Begins largely succeeds by finally giving the title character the respect he deserves. For a decade, the franchise had languished in a campy, overblown hell. Previous filmmakers had fatally pigeonholed Batman as a brooding bore, and thus allowed their villains to devour the scenery. As a result, Bruce Wayne often felt like a support player in his own movies. Here, Christopher Nolan finally gets it right. Begins focuses on its tragic central figure, a man desperately trying to reconcile his thirst for revenge with a genuine desire for justice. Batman has never felt more compelling and more human than he does in this film.
Much like Richard Donner’s landmark Superman, Nolan shows the entire span of Bruce Wayne’s early life. Not only do we meet precocious young Bruce (Gus Lewis), Nolan also fleshes out his parents, Thomas (Linus Roache) and Martha (Sara Stewart). In most cinematic adaptations, the Waynes are mere extras, shown in a blur of gunfire and scattered pearls. For this version, Bruce’s parents are genuine do-gooders, determined to leverage their wealth and influence to better Gotham City. They also instill Bruce with life wisdom and a deep sense of decency.
To paraphrase an old saying, everything good is temporary. Everyone who knows the Batman mythology can tell you what’s coming: The Waynes will be cut down in an alleyway, leaving Bruce with an emotional and spiritual wound that will never fully heal. Alfred (Michael Caine), his trusted butler and surrogate grandfather, now takes the responsibility of helping the boy sift through the pieces of his shattered innocence.
Unfortunately, that pain and rage will reverberate into young adulthood. By his late twenties, Bruce wanders the globe, getting chucked into dingy prisons and brawling with the inmates around him. He seems destined to be the final casualty of his parents’ murder until he is found by mysterious stranger known as Ducard (Liam Neesom). Urbane and charismatic, Ducard sees potential within Bruce and offers him the chance to harness his grief and frustration into something redemptive. This will lead him to the deadly League of Shadows, led by the enigmatic and elusive Ra’s Al Ghul.
Back in Gotham, Bruce begins to develop the Batman persona. He envisions the Caped Crusader as an indestructible and incorruptible instrument of justice, striking fear into the hearts of criminals and imbuing hope to the hopeless. Nolan ingeniously gives Bruce practical methods for his madness. For the first time ever, we see Batman as a little grounded in reality. (Bruce and Alfred order cowls 10,000 at a time to distract attention: “At least we’ll have spares.”) Bruce is aided by Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), who acts as a de facto Q. Amazingly, many of Batman’s toys seem to spring from plausible inventions.
On the home front, Bruce rekindles a connection with Rachel (Katie Holmes). She was a childhood friend to Bruce, long before tragedy sent his life into a slow spiral. After many years apart, Rachel now finds Bruce a changed man. The carefree, genial boy has grown into a guarded and contemplative adult. She still loves him, but also senses the auras of mystery and dread around him.
Much like Donner’s Superman, Nolan also rounds out the film with his hero’s first big battle. That starts with Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), a young, arrogant psychiatrist who uses a poison gas to render his victims into a haze of psychedelic panic. In this regard, Crane feels a lot like a Bond villain, with a dastardly plan to hijack Gotham’s water supply. This fight ultimately leads Batman to the power behind Crane, but I don’t spoil that surprise here. Pay enough attention to the first act of this film and you’ll probably figure it out.
Now, let’s talk performances. The lead role requires two distinct performances, and every actor who inhabits them must be judged for each. As Bruce Wayne, Bale absolutely kills. He brings the brooding brilliance, but also the shattered humanity. There’s a sadness to Bruce that haunts his every word and deed. We feel every bit of his heartbreak. Nolan and Bale even cook up some fun, as Bruce must also play the bumbling, carousing playboy.
When it comes to Batman, Bale is, well…meh. He looks great in the cowl and cape, and his ass-whoopins are fairly convincing. And yet, Bale shouts most of Batman’s dialogue in a rumbly growl that will make you thank God for subtitles. (In every successive movie, the Dark Knight’s speech gets a little less intelligible, thus giving Nolan’s trilogy one of its few consistent flaws.) Put it this way: When it comes to Batman himself, there’s Michael Keaton and a buncha other dudes.
Around Bale’s lead, Nolan wisely stocks up on Oscar-level character actors. Caine and Freeman add a needed dose of humor to their characters, playing off Bale’s dry brooding with a grandfatherly twinkle. On the flip side, Neeson is an intense, towering presence as the enigmatic mentor. It takes somebody big to intimidate Bruce Wayne, and Neeson is the perfect man for the job. I also enjoyed Cillian Murphy, who plays Crane as a preppy, wild-eyed smartass. Oldman’s Jim Gordan is Gotham’s last good cop, making him the perfect ally for Batman.
If there’s any knock to Begins, it’s Katie Holmes. Plunk in the middle of these top-shelf performers, Holmes seems completely out of her depth. Her flat, listless line delivery especially stands out in her scenes with Bale. Thankfully, Nolan corrected this with The Dark Knight, recasting the role with Maggie Gyllenhaal. This isn’t the catasrophe of Sofia Coppola in Godfather III. It doesn’t torpedo the entire movie. Still, it’s a blemish that robs this Batman Begins of perfection.
Don’t let that turn you away: This is a high point for Batman on film. In fact, I would argue this is the first Batman-centric movie ever made. Sure, the bad guys get to show off, but the gripping tragedy of Bruce Wayne is always centerstage. There have been better Batmen. Better and bolder villains will arrive with the next film. But no film offers the complete package of action, story, and emotional depth like Batman Begins.
140 min. PG-13. MAX.
