Spoilers for whatever happened to the caped crusher? and other Bat-Stuff most likely follows.
What happened to the Caped Crusader anyway? I would do a double-take as his yellow and black chest sigil would reflect against the darkness of my awed pupils, like a bat-signal shining high into the black gulf where the heavens should be. I know he used to exist somewhere inside the boundaries of my TV. I would catch the merest glance of his blue-finned cloak as it swished across the periphery of my screen.
these days though? not so much. Batman is missing; the TV screen is black.
As a figure that has weathered several re-imaginings throughout a nine-decade lifetime, the Batman has always been known by several epithets, and rightfully so: you will inevitably need to freshen up once in a while. The Batman that lives on our screens appears to me to be running the danger of an identity crisis nowadays.
Perhaps it results from the times we live in. Perhaps this Batman is not the one we need but maybe the one we deserve right now. Either way, ol' Bats appears to be progressively losing all other aspects of his persona on the screen to just one.
Mostly because of Christopher Nolan's rebooted trilogy, we have seen a gritty, humorless Batman emerge over the last several years: a full helping of ruthlessly delivered justice served with a nihilistic side order of dismal dissertations upon the evil side of humanity. All of this came down with an absolutely growling voice.
Now, let me clarify: that's not a horrible lunch; as things go. But if your only source of food is anything, even the best culinary treats lose their appeal. Of course, Batman is the Dark Knight. Still, he is not only something. Among the several handles he owns is the World's Greatest Detective, the Dynamic Duo (of which the stealthy, armored half – the smaller, weaker, less experienced teenage boy gets to be the bullet magnet in little more than brilliantly colored underwear), and the Caped Crusader, the goddamn Batman!
He is the GODamn Batman. understood that.
Each of these monikers, in some measure, captures distinct facets of the Batman mythos. From where I'm standing, the onscreen portrayal of the character seems to be growing increasingly imbalanced. We complimented Nolan for taking Batman to some dark areas. Joel Schumacher's vivid lampooning of the Dark Knight in the 90s (Bat-ice skates? Really?) meant that a darker, more realistic version was a needed before The Bat became a full-fledged parody of himself.
With the Nolan trilogy finished, Zack Snyder's Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice intends to carry on the brutality. Although I understand that basing too many presumptions on a trailer alone is inappropriate, the gloom in the advertisements thus far seems to have been dialled up to maximum. With whispers abound that Snyder's Batman will have survived the death of at least one Robin and with the obvious visual cues that his costume borrows from Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns (the progenitor of gritty Batman tales), it seems clear that this will be the darkest Dark Knight we have yet seen.
Not one of these disturbs me. There should be darkness given all Batman must go through to become who he is. If he believes it's a fantastic idea to go out and battle crime in the most hazardous and deadly city on Earth while costumed as a huge bat, he should be suffering from some severe kind of PTSD. What irritates me, though, is that other fundamental Batman character traits are disappearing in the haste to embrace the current gloom.
I realize it's not really that clean and white; LEGO Batman exists; the Arkham video games have made a reasonable job at integrating detective elements to challenge the idea that Bats is "The World's Greatest Detective." With his sarcastic, clever ripostues and vividly colored clothing reflecting the irreverence of Adam West and the 1960s program, The Brave And The Bold was an animated show that truly aimed to elevate the light-hearted Caped Crusader dimension to the character. Actually, a fourth-wall breaking comment by Bat Mite in one of the episodes summed up The Brave and The BoldBatman's rich past lets him be seen in many different ways." This is a lighter version, to be sure, but it's definitely not less authentic and true to the character's roots than the tormented avenger screaming out for mother and father.
Naturally it was canceled following a few seasons to create room for something... yup, you got it - a little darker. The program also parodied its own death in the last episode:
I have no desire to return to the days of Bat-Credit Cards either, hence I am not arguing for a whole reboot here. however I do believe that fair respect for less honored facets of the Caped Crusader's character and background is well past time.
Remember that I am still discussing here cinematic depictions of Batman. Though Grant Morrison is not my fave writer, one thing about his Batman comic book run really speaks to me: he found a means to make everything meaningful. All that. Everything was canon, hence it was all worthy regardless of how ridiculous or antiquated it seemed. He restored the Club of Heroes; the Batman of Zur En Aarh; even Bat Mite!
Never venture the Cave without it. Forget "Batman R.I.P.; Batman's true death was this one."
This nicely gets us onto Neil Gaiman.
Among my fave writers is Gaiman. Should you not have read the Sandman novels or American Gods or The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, kindly check out your future-self a favour. Reality, the legendary, and the darkly magical all mix in his stories until anything is imaginable. Morrison was murdering Bruce Wayne's Batman in Batman R.I.P. back in 2009; Neil Gaiman and illustrator Andy Kubert were hired to pen what would basically be the Caped Crusader's last story—the Batman's burial.
Yes, many admirers correctly view Frank Miller's classic works as bookends for the life-cycle of the character. Though this narrative is different, Year One and The Dark Knight Returns are to some degree Batman continuity's Alpha and Omega. Possibly occurring outside of conventional continuity, this was Gaiman's love valentine to everything Batman.
For those of you not familiar with the story, let me to fill you in: Batman dies. We start in Crime Alley, where Batman's allies and worst enemies have assembled for his funeral. As is customary at such gatherings, individuals closest to him stand in front of the gathering and share tales about his life and death.
Seen in some respects as a kind of spiritual heir to Alan Moore's Whatver Happened To The Man Of Tomorrow? The way Gaiman writes his story is maybe more aspirational. Gaiman studied the power of mythological storytelling across history in American Gods, and Whatever Happened To The Caped Crusader sees him thread that needle once more. He is especially good at crafting tales about narratives. Bruce, despite appearing to be dead, tells the story alongside an unidentified friend using a framing device and a contradictory set of unreliable narrators who embellish Batman's death to heap myth upon myth onto the Dark Knight's funeral bier until the reader is compelled to dissect the eulogies to evaluate for herself what is false and what is real.
Gaiman chooses to challenge other aspects while keeping much of the conventional Batman canon, therefore further complicating matters. For example, Bruce's parents' killer, Joe Chill, appears front of house at the wake, meeting and greeting even though he is dead himself under the parameters of conventional DC continuity. Still more disturbing is the story of Bruce's devoted butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce's existence as Batman was a deception sustained by himself to help mend the young man's damaged mind and replace the vacuum in his life left by his parents' terrible murder, he informs the massed crowd.
Indeed. Try to guess the butler's actual actions.
Here Gaiman's goal is two-fold: he can effectively bring a host of the Dark Knight's many periods to a decisive end. While Alfred's narrative (as well as Bat-Girl's) seems to mirror the death of the Batman of the Silver Age era, Catwoman's eulogy closes the Golden Age stories. The look and narrative of the Joker suggest a conclusion to the 80s Batman and so on and so forth. Although every story is rather distinct, this technique lets the reader see the commonalities latent in the death of each Dark Knight, therefore offering a suitable ending for every Batman. Batman dies always in a sacrificial manner. Whether one person or the entire city, he dies in service to others. Besides that, he never, ever gives up in any one of the stories.
This is an abstract method with deft application. Though apparently shotgunning a whole monkey load of Batman diversity at us, celebrating the breadth of Batman's long and storied tenure and allowing us to revel in the many interpretations (Joker from Batman: The Animated Series can be seen at one point), it conversely focuses our thinking and allows us to strip away the various creations and concentrate on what lies at the character's core.
Though I wish you would go out and read it, I won't divulge the finish to you; the last minutes are heartbreakingly illuminating; Gaiman's increasingly metaphysical conclusion reveals that the road to divinity is reversed. Unlike others, he battles to recapture rather than to ascend a higher road so he may once more declare what he really is and be that once more for the next generation.
The reason is Since a Batman is needed by every age.
And the pulsating core of the tale is exactly why I believe it would be ideal for a movie adaptation.
Sometimes Kevin Smith speaks lyrically about his Batman in his Fatman On Batman podcasts. Every generation has one, he points out. It's Keaton and the 1989 film for him. It is the same for me. For some like colleague broadcaster Ralph Garman, Batman 66's West, always West and only West. Others would find Kevin Conroy's Batman of the Animated Series glory to be the only one. Perhaps Bale's snarl, scowly Batman is their Dark Knight for more recent convert to The Bat.
So let me raise the question: if you were to feature all of these Batmen in one film? Imagine handing Keaton the swansong he never quite had. Suppose you let West pull down his Batman's curtain with a last one-liner. What if Hamill's Joker aligned next to Leto's and Nicholson's and somehow paid respect to Ledger's? Right now, that sounds absurd. And most typically it would be... But with a plot this cerebral, this metaphysical, it would make logical to bring these diverse icons together to honor their roles in the Batman's cinematic trip.
Keaton's turn in Birdman, driven as it is by his one-time portrayal of The Bat, suggests that there is a real understanding (beyond the Fan Nation) in the evolution of legendary characters such Batman and an appreciation of the part they help to create a new mythological fabric for the 21st century.
Indeed, some of the performers would be too elderly to suit any more, but I don't see how that would affect anything. Bruce Wayne is Batman, just as Tony Stark is Iron Man. Keaton would look even better in the batsuit than he did 27 years ago; George Clooney has essentially been living Bruce Wayne's life of a billionaire playboy for the past 20 years, thus he wouldn't even have to act; an aged Wayne played by Adam West could still find a way to save Gotham one last time without necessarily donning the cowl.
Also included is Superman's tale cameo. Let's at last get Nic Cage in the tights of the Man of Tomorrow. Years after Burton's Superman Lives passed, he at last realised he could portray the Last Son of Krypton.
The diversity might even find its way into the directing techniques. Bring in a coterie of various directors with each one leaving their own style on their specific narrative as the primary plot consists of several storylines.
Years after his Year One adaptation failed, get David Fincher in to track the death of the eighties Frank Milller version of the Dark Knight – or perhaps get Darren Aronofsky in so he can at last grab the character.
Bring Burton back and let him finish his Batman trilogy; get Nolan involved and let's give Bale's Dark Knight the finale he truly deserves; that schmaltzy happy ending with Selina Kyle really didn't sit too well with me at all. Yes, I am going there; you could even invite Joel Schumacher back to guide West in an ultra-campy curtain call honoring the "66 Batman." At last, in his environment, would be the filmmaker of the most hated (Batman) movie ever made.
Alternatively, get in fresh directors; either way, it's excellent. Directors free from attachments to prior Batman productions may be more receptive to adopting visual cues from Batman's comic book past, therefore producing equal volumes of Awesome Sauce. Either way, it would be great to see all sides of the Batman shown on film—and all inside one film? Headhead. shockingly. decent.
DC Comics don't seem to have much of a continuity present in their movie universe anyway at the moment (by which I refer to the one movie, Man Of Steel, that they have so far released). They will never, ever catch up to Marvel whose shared universe has ninety-three billion films and counting. Why not do something different? It would generate a lot of money and might just offer the deconstructive sleight of hand to astound viewers and shift the cinematic stakes back in their balance.
Luna Ella
Spoilers for whatever happened to the caped crusher? and other Bat-Stuff most likely follows.
What happened to the Caped Crusader anyway? I would do a double-take as his yellow and black chest sigil would reflect against the darkness of my awed pupils, like a bat-signal shining high into the black gulf where the heavens should be. I know he used to exist somewhere inside the boundaries of my TV. I would catch the merest glance of his blue-finned cloak as it swished across the periphery of my screen.
these days though? not so much. Batman is missing; the TV screen is black.
As a figure that has weathered several re-imaginings throughout a nine-decade lifetime, the Batman has always been known by several epithets, and rightfully so: you will inevitably need to freshen up once in a while. The Batman that lives on our screens appears to me to be running the danger of an identity crisis nowadays.
Perhaps it results from the times we live in. Perhaps this Batman is not the one we need but maybe the one we deserve right now. Either way, ol' Bats appears to be progressively losing all other aspects of his persona on the screen to just one.
Mostly because of Christopher Nolan's rebooted trilogy, we have seen a gritty, humorless Batman emerge over the last several years: a full helping of ruthlessly delivered justice served with a nihilistic side order of dismal dissertations upon the evil side of humanity. All of this came down with an absolutely growling voice.
Now, let me clarify: that's not a horrible lunch; as things go. But if your only source of food is anything, even the best culinary treats lose their appeal. Of course, Batman is the Dark Knight. Still, he is not only something. Among the several handles he owns is the World's Greatest Detective, the Dynamic Duo (of which the stealthy, armored half – the smaller, weaker, less experienced teenage boy gets to be the bullet magnet in little more than brilliantly colored underwear), and the Caped Crusader, the goddamn Batman!
He is the GODamn Batman. understood that.
Each of these monikers, in some measure, captures distinct facets of the Batman mythos. From where I'm standing, the onscreen portrayal of the character seems to be growing increasingly imbalanced. We complimented Nolan for taking Batman to some dark areas. Joel Schumacher's vivid lampooning of the Dark Knight in the 90s (Bat-ice skates? Really?) meant that a darker, more realistic version was a needed before The Bat became a full-fledged parody of himself.
With the Nolan trilogy finished, Zack Snyder's Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice intends to carry on the brutality. Although I understand that basing too many presumptions on a trailer alone is inappropriate, the gloom in the advertisements thus far seems to have been dialled up to maximum. With whispers abound that Snyder's Batman will have survived the death of at least one Robin and with the obvious visual cues that his costume borrows from Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns (the progenitor of gritty Batman tales), it seems clear that this will be the darkest Dark Knight we have yet seen.
Not one of these disturbs me. There should be darkness given all Batman must go through to become who he is. If he believes it's a fantastic idea to go out and battle crime in the most hazardous and deadly city on Earth while costumed as a huge bat, he should be suffering from some severe kind of PTSD. What irritates me, though, is that other fundamental Batman character traits are disappearing in the haste to embrace the current gloom.
I realize it's not really that clean and white; LEGO Batman exists; the Arkham video games have made a reasonable job at integrating detective elements to challenge the idea that Bats is "The World's Greatest Detective." With his sarcastic, clever ripostues and vividly colored clothing reflecting the irreverence of Adam West and the 1960s program, The Brave And The Bold was an animated show that truly aimed to elevate the light-hearted Caped Crusader dimension to the character. Actually, a fourth-wall breaking comment by Bat Mite in one of the episodes summed up The Brave and The BoldBatman's rich past lets him be seen in many different ways." This is a lighter version, to be sure, but it's definitely not less authentic and true to the character's roots than the tormented avenger screaming out for mother and father.
Naturally it was canceled following a few seasons to create room for something... yup, you got it - a little darker. The program also parodied its own death in the last episode:
I have no desire to return to the days of Bat-Credit Cards either, hence I am not arguing for a whole reboot here. however I do believe that fair respect for less honored facets of the Caped Crusader's character and background is well past time.
Remember that I am still discussing here cinematic depictions of Batman. Though Grant Morrison is not my fave writer, one thing about his Batman comic book run really speaks to me: he found a means to make everything meaningful. All that. Everything was canon, hence it was all worthy regardless of how ridiculous or antiquated it seemed. He restored the Club of Heroes; the Batman of Zur En Aarh; even Bat Mite!
Never venture the Cave without it. Forget "Batman R.I.P.; Batman's true death was this one."
This nicely gets us onto Neil Gaiman.
Among my fave writers is Gaiman. Should you not have read the Sandman novels or American Gods or The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, kindly check out your future-self a favour. Reality, the legendary, and the darkly magical all mix in his stories until anything is imaginable. Morrison was murdering Bruce Wayne's Batman in Batman R.I.P. back in 2009; Neil Gaiman and illustrator Andy Kubert were hired to pen what would basically be the Caped Crusader's last story—the Batman's burial.
Yes, many admirers correctly view Frank Miller's classic works as bookends for the life-cycle of the character. Though this narrative is different, Year One and The Dark Knight Returns are to some degree Batman continuity's Alpha and Omega. Possibly occurring outside of conventional continuity, this was Gaiman's love valentine to everything Batman.
For those of you not familiar with the story, let me to fill you in: Batman dies. We start in Crime Alley, where Batman's allies and worst enemies have assembled for his funeral. As is customary at such gatherings, individuals closest to him stand in front of the gathering and share tales about his life and death.
Seen in some respects as a kind of spiritual heir to Alan Moore's Whatver Happened To The Man Of Tomorrow? The way Gaiman writes his story is maybe more aspirational. Gaiman studied the power of mythological storytelling across history in American Gods, and Whatever Happened To The Caped Crusader sees him thread that needle once more. He is especially good at crafting tales about narratives. Bruce, despite appearing to be dead, tells the story alongside an unidentified friend using a framing device and a contradictory set of unreliable narrators who embellish Batman's death to heap myth upon myth onto the Dark Knight's funeral bier until the reader is compelled to dissect the eulogies to evaluate for herself what is false and what is real.
Gaiman chooses to challenge other aspects while keeping much of the conventional Batman canon, therefore further complicating matters. For example, Bruce's parents' killer, Joe Chill, appears front of house at the wake, meeting and greeting even though he is dead himself under the parameters of conventional DC continuity. Still more disturbing is the story of Bruce's devoted butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce's existence as Batman was a deception sustained by himself to help mend the young man's damaged mind and replace the vacuum in his life left by his parents' terrible murder, he informs the massed crowd.
Indeed. Try to guess the butler's actual actions.
Here Gaiman's goal is two-fold: he can effectively bring a host of the Dark Knight's many periods to a decisive end. While Alfred's narrative (as well as Bat-Girl's) seems to mirror the death of the Batman of the Silver Age era, Catwoman's eulogy closes the Golden Age stories. The look and narrative of the Joker suggest a conclusion to the 80s Batman and so on and so forth. Although every story is rather distinct, this technique lets the reader see the commonalities latent in the death of each Dark Knight, therefore offering a suitable ending for every Batman. Batman dies always in a sacrificial manner. Whether one person or the entire city, he dies in service to others. Besides that, he never, ever gives up in any one of the stories.
This is an abstract method with deft application. Though apparently shotgunning a whole monkey load of Batman diversity at us, celebrating the breadth of Batman's long and storied tenure and allowing us to revel in the many interpretations (Joker from Batman: The Animated Series can be seen at one point), it conversely focuses our thinking and allows us to strip away the various creations and concentrate on what lies at the character's core.
Though I wish you would go out and read it, I won't divulge the finish to you; the last minutes are heartbreakingly illuminating; Gaiman's increasingly metaphysical conclusion reveals that the road to divinity is reversed. Unlike others, he battles to recapture rather than to ascend a higher road so he may once more declare what he really is and be that once more for the next generation.
The reason is Since a Batman is needed by every age.
And the pulsating core of the tale is exactly why I believe it would be ideal for a movie adaptation.
Sometimes Kevin Smith speaks lyrically about his Batman in his Fatman On Batman podcasts. Every generation has one, he points out. It's Keaton and the 1989 film for him. It is the same for me. For some like colleague broadcaster Ralph Garman, Batman 66's West, always West and only West. Others would find Kevin Conroy's Batman of the Animated Series glory to be the only one. Perhaps Bale's snarl, scowly Batman is their Dark Knight for more recent convert to The Bat.
So let me raise the question: if you were to feature all of these Batmen in one film? Imagine handing Keaton the swansong he never quite had. Suppose you let West pull down his Batman's curtain with a last one-liner. What if Hamill's Joker aligned next to Leto's and Nicholson's and somehow paid respect to Ledger's? Right now, that sounds absurd. And most typically it would be... But with a plot this cerebral, this metaphysical, it would make logical to bring these diverse icons together to honor their roles in the Batman's cinematic trip.
Keaton's turn in Birdman, driven as it is by his one-time portrayal of The Bat, suggests that there is a real understanding (beyond the Fan Nation) in the evolution of legendary characters such Batman and an appreciation of the part they help to create a new mythological fabric for the 21st century.
Indeed, some of the performers would be too elderly to suit any more, but I don't see how that would affect anything. Bruce Wayne is Batman, just as Tony Stark is Iron Man. Keaton would look even better in the batsuit than he did 27 years ago; George Clooney has essentially been living Bruce Wayne's life of a billionaire playboy for the past 20 years, thus he wouldn't even have to act; an aged Wayne played by Adam West could still find a way to save Gotham one last time without necessarily donning the cowl.
Also included is Superman's tale cameo. Let's at last get Nic Cage in the tights of the Man of Tomorrow. Years after Burton's Superman Lives passed, he at last realised he could portray the Last Son of Krypton.
The diversity might even find its way into the directing techniques. Bring in a coterie of various directors with each one leaving their own style on their specific narrative as the primary plot consists of several storylines.
Years after his Year One adaptation failed, get David Fincher in to track the death of the eighties Frank Milller version of the Dark Knight – or perhaps get Darren Aronofsky in so he can at last grab the character.
Bring Burton back and let him finish his Batman trilogy; get Nolan involved and let's give Bale's Dark Knight the finale he truly deserves; that schmaltzy happy ending with Selina Kyle really didn't sit too well with me at all. Yes, I am going there; you could even invite Joel Schumacher back to guide West in an ultra-campy curtain call honoring the "66 Batman." At last, in his environment, would be the filmmaker of the most hated (Batman) movie ever made.
Alternatively, get in fresh directors; either way, it's excellent. Directors free from attachments to prior Batman productions may be more receptive to adopting visual cues from Batman's comic book past, therefore producing equal volumes of Awesome Sauce. Either way, it would be great to see all sides of the Batman shown on film—and all inside one film? Headhead. shockingly. decent.
DC Comics don't seem to have much of a continuity present in their movie universe anyway at the moment (by which I refer to the one movie, Man Of Steel, that they have so far released). They will never, ever catch up to Marvel whose shared universe has ninety-three billion films and counting. Why not do something different? It would generate a lot of money and might just offer the deconstructive sleight of hand to astound viewers and shift the cinematic stakes back in their balance.