By itself, Batman Begins is not a bad film. I've read people who have called it fantastic, the best Batman ever, a dark and gritty thing and ohmygod Christian Bale is the American Psycho Batman, but I've not heard anyone say, "You know what, it was like the two hour season premier of a television series." A good movie, yes, but still the start of an installment as none of the subplots are tied up with the exception of Bruce Wayne's money and company. Beyond that, Batman never deals with the conflict rising from the Wayne heritage and demands of the costume, the Batman/Gordan relationship never progresses beyond the initial meet and greet (though we are meant to somehow believe that the two have bonded by blowing shit up) and the relationship involving Katie Holmes--though it's not really that--never actually begins, goes anywhere, or establishes itself, though we are given a kiss so we know something has ended or begun. Neither does anyone appear to care where Bruce Wayne has been for seven years, and now that he's back from the dead and a masked vigilante is appearing on the streets... well, come on? These sub plots don't need to be solved, but in Batman Begins, they are merely placed in the opening act, and nothing is done with them. In short: it's TV narration, which is fine for television, but rather less than fulfilling if you want to feel complete at the end of your two and a bit hours in the dark.
But the real problem for me is that Batman Begins just doesn't bring anything new to the character and, after half an hour into it, I started wondering why they were making the film. Burton's Batman bought a new vision of the character to the screen, complete with body armour, gothic surroundings, and Jack Nicholson. Granted, the inclusion of Nicholson as the Joker doesn't justify the film, but Burton's film at least bought a new image to the screen. Of course, after that film, he repeated it with less success, and then the franchise ended up in the hands of Joel Schumacher, who tried to tie the old Adam West camp glory and the Burton gothic together, which was represented in casting Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey together as villains in Batman Forever. Nolan's Batman Begins, however, isn't a departure from the look and film of Batman that was established in Burton's first film, and Bale's Batman owes more to Val Kilmer than any of the other actors, as far as I'm concerned.
Batman Begins is, ultimately, a better made film than all but Burton's first film, which I think has more life in it than this. But is that really a reason for it to exist?
About half way during the film I started trying to figure out why Batman keeps appearing in films. Since 1989, Hollywood has managed to kick out five live versions, a couple of animated movies, and a long running animated series or two (and I believe they've started a third). Batman was even part of The Justice League cartoon, where he acted as the Batman Plot Device, which basically meant that whenever the Justice League couldn't solve a problem by hitting it, or needed a mystery explained so the story could continue, Batman would appear. He would solve it. He was the man. Anyhow, when you add to this the numerous Batman comics and novels (do they even still do the novels?) and whatever else is out there, you end up with a pretty healthy franchise and fan base, and in the two and a bit hours I was in the movie and for a few hours afterwards, I tried to figure out what the attraction was.
A while ago, someone--I think it was Grant Watson--tried to convince me that Batman was one of the new myths of our time. But what exactly is the myth? On the surface, it is focused around a lack of justice, of a piece of personal violence that rips a family apart, and results in a good man using that trauma to fight injustice. He's not a vigilante, mind you, because the myths of today demand that every life be held as a sacred thing and that criminals be rehabilitated. The first of these is the influence of our Christian dominated society, and the second is the influence of the principles that the Western justice system is built upon. There's nothing that demands that he dress up as a bat and leap from building to building, but myths have to have some sort of characteristic, and since Batman himself is so traditionally one note ("My parents died and now I fight the scum who did it") the costume serves to flesh out the myth in its own, visual way. Now, on the surface, this is all connecting into the Batman myth and I can see how it works. It taps into our society with its frustration at the reality of justice system while upholding the ideals, and connects the individual's desire to have a personal sense of satisfaction in their justice and feel that they are not falling to the level of the criminals while doing so. Right there Batman is connecting to something that is part of our current lifestyle. I can see that.
But when you dig behind that surface, things become slightly distasteful. To start with, Bruce Wayne is cast as one of the upper members of society, a social better for all of us to admire. He has money, he's handsome, intelligent, and at night he falls into Junkie Town parts of Gotham (called the Narrows in this film and cut off from all affluences and brightness by bridges, which I thought was convenient) and fights the crime that exists in poor areas. Wayne makes the sacrifice and leaves his gated community of butlers and cute girls and enters the dirt of lower middle class. It is only the Police and Government who question the place of Batman in this part of the city, because everyone living in these squalid little apartments (such as the little blonde boy in Batman Begins) knows that the guy dressed up like a bat is there to help them. In a way, they have been transformed into his subjects, and Wayne becomes their Prince, and later their King when he brings in Robin. He occupies the same place as royalty in a monarchy, in that he has been chosen by a higher power and placed in a position of power where his natural skills will be used to their best advantage. He does this, naturally, because the the lower middle class is unable to defend themselves. They are lost in their own squalor and poor education and medical plans that they can't afford, and which breeds the culture that criminals rise from, and which Batman ultimately preys upon.
There's something about that second side of the Batman Myth that irritates me. It digs beneath my skin. The ways that Bruce Wayne could use his wealth to change things are numerous, and in the end more helpful than wearing black body armour and attacking junkies. Of course, in Batman Begins, Goyer and Nolan take what feels like insane levels to show how this failed in Wayne's father who is killed by someone from the gutter, someone starving and out of control, and unable to recognise one of societies betters, a man who is his own unknown, altruistic benefactor... In short, money won't help the poor. They need to be terrorised and put into place by the fear generated by a man who emerges from the dark without a sound or whisper and who places his blades against you throat, never intending to harm you.
In the end, I decided I didn't like the Batman Myth.
Of course, Batman Begins is just a film, and as films go, it doesn't matter much. There's no blood in it, and despite fine performances (most notably from Gary Oldman and Michael Caine), you won't actually find yourself thinking at the end that you had seen anything new. It was just the same old shit.