The Batman

Spoilers

Director Matt Reeves promised us a detective Batman in a 90's grunge style noir setting, and cast the master of brooding and angst, Robert Pattinson, as his caped crusader. Well. I'm happy to report that he delivered on his promises. Nary a sliver of sunlight is seen in this movie. Gotham is looming all around, grimy and shining in the rain and harsh night lights. And the movie begins with Pattinson's early years Bruce Wayne delivering a cynical and brooding narration as he chooses which of many, many crimes he should spend his efforts on one Halloween night. The sequence caps off with the pent-up drone of Nirvana, and by then I was hooked and ready for anything.

If I have to turn off the lights in my den to see anything once I'm watching at home, it'll be worth it. This movie is dark and beautiful.

Two years into his crimefighting, this Bruce is still working out his place as a vigilante. He revels in the fact that even the idea or suggestion of his presence will repel even the pettiest of criminals. "They think I am hiding in the shadows," he says in his noir narration. "But I am the shadows." But a sense of futility is creeping in. No matter how much crime he stops, more evil is around the corner. Then—it's The Riddler's turn, played by Paul Dano with eager gusto. Appropriately, Riddler's goals are parallel with Bruce's. He begins to bring to light the corruption and scandal of wealthy and influential Gotham residents, but with the one significant difference from Batman, in that he kills them first. 

He leaves letters and clues for "The Batman" at his crime scenes, which Bruce dutifully follows with help from Gordon, (played with quiet intensity by Jeffery Wright) and Selina Kyle, (Zoe Kravitz, and the film's character highlight.) I loved the sequence where Selina and Bruce team up and infiltrate the club for information—a perfect amalgamation of noir and Batman sensibilities. But elsewhere, scenes that seem to want to mimic the disturbing factor that The Dark Knight did so eerily well played on my nerves here. The writing of Riddler's plan, motivations, and even characterization felt uninspired, as if the acting alone could carry this villain. They spend too much time on him, and the veneer begins to fall.

Besides Kravitz and Dano, (and the actor who claims to be Colin Farrell, which I'm still suspicious of) a general increase of facial emoting wouldn't have gone amiss. People feel things in noir stories, too.

Pattinson is the ideal choice for this iteration, but his performance feels restrained. Stoic Batman is fine, but I hope Bruce Wayne isn't left as a blank slate. They have a good start here. Grungy emo Bruce is different and fun in a dark way that fits the aesthetic, and I know Pattinson can dig into that—if the script and direction allows. Here, the writing keeps him one step behind the Riddler. Even when Riddler allows himself to be arrested, and even when his final plan is implemented, Batman seems there only to react, powerless to stop it. And that bothered me. I wanted Bruce's detective skills to matter to the plot. Or a satisfying moment of revelation where he "solves the case." But there isn't really, and for better or worse, it is done intentionally. 

Through his inability to stop Riddler, Bruce is forced to confront this mirror villain and consider what the difference between them is. Why doesn't Batman kill, if he's the same as Riddler in every other way? So Bruce's moment of revelation turns introspective as he realizes that the point of stopping crime isn't only about the crime itself, but to protect those against whom is the crime is being committed. At the beginning, when Batman beats up the gang of thugs with skeleton paint on their faces, their victim is every bit as afraid of Batman as they are, and Batman does nothing to dissuade his fear. But once he fails to stop Riddler's plan, he realizes it's not over, because there are still innocent people he can help. So he does. And that's what's important, and what makes him the hero rather than the villain.

The style, with bookends of narration and grunge music made me happy, but it still all comes down to character.

So even though I was hoping for a more satisfying mystery plot, and even though I tend to tune out emotionally when superhero movies resort to a city-level event for their final act, I do greatly appreciate this character arc which is beautifully minute. No massive, life-altering realization—just Bruce shifting his focus a little and seeing a ray of hope in the bleak and endless line of evil that's standing before him. I don't think this movie is perfect, but that's why I think I love it.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Spoiler-free!

Ever since Tobey Maguire, we've seen plenty of silver screen iterations of Peter Parker. Time to give Miles Morales a place in the spotlight. He sure does make it shine.

In a movie that could easily be overstuffed and distracted, it all serves to help him along his way.

Plot, premise -- whatever. It's a tale as old as time, really, and you know it already. There's Miles. (Shameik Moore) He becomes Spider-Man. Through related circumstances, other Spider-Men/Women/Beings accidentally get pulled into and trapped in his universe. They need to get back. Spider-Man is the only one who can get them back. And Miles Morales is the one-and-only Spider-Man!

Somehow I didn't expect this to be an origin story. Not sure why, as in retrospect it's obvious. But while it is an origin story for Miles in the sense that when the movie begins he's not Spider-Man and when it ends he is, it does away with the dragging feeling of a typical origin tale by doing away with one thing. See, the main restriction of origins like Spidey is that they're lonely. The hero randomly obtains these incredible powers, and has no one to tell. No one to confide in. No one to give clear advice. So, he flounders by himself. It's natural, and it's not like it doesn't work as a story. It can be and has been compelling. Many, many, many times. Time for a fresh angle.

Like a super strange mentor situation maybe...

Enter Peter Parker (Jake Johnson), Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Man Noir (Nicholas Cage), Spider-Ham (John Mulaney), and Peni Parker (Kimiko Glenn). It may sound complicated but no worries. The first is the classic Spidey, just older and a bit washed up. Then, naturally, Spider-Woman. The noir one exists in edgy black and white newsprint and wears a fedora, the next is a cartoon pig (self-explanatory if you ask me), and finally the anime version with a cute little girl and her pet spider. They're what drive Miles to truly becoming Spider-Man -- in that if he doesn't, they can't get home, and they're there to instruct and advise. There is still floundering, and loneliness to deal with too, but it all hits so much harder when it's sudden, and not par-for-the-course.

It only felt like an origin it the obligatory power-manifestation scene (which was unusually funny; it's usually just cringe to me) and then near the end for a moment. In between it could've any other day of the week, of missions and plots and action/adventuring. Miles spends a lot of time sans webslingers. A great choice because the lessened ability made for higher stakes. And he wears a Spider-Man Halloween costume. No, I'm not kidding. There were moments I wished he'd get a real suit already, but once he did, I understood why they delayed it so long. Well, besides thematically. The personality comes through so much better in the pieced-together, home-spun suit, it really does. And Miles is not a character you want to hide.

Plus, the long-awaited suit reveal moment was spectacular. (Or should I say "ultimate"?)

Anyway, the movie very respectfully but very firmly sidelines the side-Spider-Beings. If you're worried the movie might be crowded with them, don't be. They appear when they're useful and don't hog the scenery. If Spider-Ham isn't doing something worth looking at, you don't see him. Plain and simple. And there's a definite hierarchy of importance with these characters. Miles is number one. Always and forever, and the movie never forgets it. Peter is next, then Gwen. They have arcs. The rest get solid moments to shine. The temptation to overuse Spider-Ham had to be huge, but they never do. This is Miles' movie, and boy is it Miles' movie.

He's instantly established as the every-kid type, with his own passions (street art and music), his own issues that would seem big for a normal kid (being transferred to a boarding prep school) and complex relationships. He has no annoying-level problems with his dad (Brian Tyree Henry), but there's enough tension between them to be important as the plot rolls on. And he admires his maybe-not-so-great-but-definitely-very-cool uncle (Mahershala Ali). He's also enough of a dork to consider the friend-zone a fine place to be, and I think that's just too cute. Fact is, you care about this kid from the get-go, and from there it's only up.

Gwen is so extra. She has ballet shoes, and they're teal, AND they're point shoes, AND she USES them!

The voice performance by Shameik Moore is infused with teenage innocence and pathos to remarkable levels. To the point where I was shocked at how relatively inexperienced an actor he is. I took him for a long-time professional voice actor. Jake Johnson also is remarkable. He hits the comedy and the genuine drama equally well. Zoë Kravitz is Mary Jane. Liev Schreiber plays Kingpin. Chris Pine is there for a hot second. I mean -- Nicholas Cage! As a hard-boiled Spider-detective! There's not a bad performance in the lot -- whether for pitch-perfect comic delivery, or heart-breaking drama, or both together -- and since I don't have space to individually praise everyone who left an impression, I'll have to leave it at that.

Animation style is the big thing that sets this film apart. Without it, it would feel fairly typical, and even cheesy if they kept the filming style. It was a risk -- the thing that had most potential to put off viewers. Its goal was to maintain a comic-book look. There are print dots and hashing in the bright, comic-y colors. The motion is sometimes visibly choppy, like the movie's running at a slow frame-rate. (Much like The Lego Movie, for comparison.) And there's sometimes panels and split-screens. Miles' thoughts even translate to thought boxes for one sequence. In my opinion, it not only works -- it's the thing that makes the movie. I'm a firm believer in a movie's style matching the style of it's main character, and they nailed it here.

Even without the stylistic flair the animation is wonderful. Those expressions and character designs!

I couldn't ask for more. Grand, colorful, peppy and powerful in turn, uproariously hilarious beyond expectation, with gleefully involving characters and a plot line that doesn't feel stretched thin in this comic-book-movie world. Yes, this movie may be one of many, but like it's new-to-the-team hero, it plays it like it's the one-and-only. I could have happily existed in that crisp, splashy, and moving little universe for another adventure, or two, or five. So, welcome to the team, one-and-only Spider-Man!