As with the 1989 release of
Batman, I was at the midnight showing with every other comic book geek in the Chicago suburbs. Yet, the feeling I had leaving the theater early that morning was profoundly different. To be honest, I didn't know what to think.
Batman Returns was unlike any other film I'd experienced. If I had to think of four words that night to describe it, I'd have chosen…
Bleak
The wintry setting made the theater's air-conditioning that much colder.
Raw
Like chapped winter skin, the character's emotions envelop you in a sheath of exposed nerve endings.
Vulnerable
From the opening sequence to the final credits, there's an overwhelming sense of sadness that permeates nearly every frame.
Personal
I'd never felt such empathy for heroes and villains alike. There are no winners here. Even in victory, there is loss.
I wasn't the only one perplexed. Leaving the theater, it wasn't hard to overhear fellow audience members toss around phrases such as "I hated it," "That wasn't Batman," and "See, I knew they'd screw it up." Even though I was experiencing strong emotions, contempt wasn't one of them.
Now, having seen
Batman Returns more than a dozen times over the course of the past 13 years, I firmly believe many films cannot be fully appreciated after only one viewing.
Oh, and those feelings I was struggling with on opening night? I now recognize them as…
Awe—at the world Burton and his creative team created.
Reverence—for peeling back and delving deep beneath the surface layers of these decades old characters to discover their humanity.
Am I gushing? Perhaps…but not without good reason.
Whereas other comic book films—
X-Men,
Fantastic Four,
Spider-man—have taken the explosive, CGI, Jerry Bruckheimer route,
Batman Returns is subtle, grounded, and real. Batman is a human consumed by the desire for justice. He has no super-human abilities far beyond those of mortal men. Batman's arsenal is made up of exceptional observation skills, a sharp intellect, finely honed physical skills, and the innate ability to emotionally detach from a stressful situation. Burton exploits this humanity as the foundation upon which the film is built.
The true power of
Batman Returns is found in the character relationships…
"After dark all cats are leopards."—Native American Proverb
Selina and Max
Here we have the archetypal alpha-male—rich, powerful, feared—controlling the subservient zeta-female—meek, eager to please, lacking any self-confidence. Selina's awakening doesn't turn the tables, but rather puts her on a level playing field, opening Max's eyes to the opportunities her newfound confidence and overt sexuality represents, which in turn raises his own game. In essence, they've gone from show dog and house cat to timber wolf and black panther.
"Every bird loves to hear himself sing."—Italian Proverb
Max and Oswald
Yet another opportunistic pairing. Oswald blackmails Max into setting his plans in motion. Yet, at the same time, Max sees this as an opportunity to expand his own influence over the City of Gotham. Neither is trusting of the other, and both have built-in escape plans to be activated at the first sign of trouble. Even so, the awareness they receive from working together accelerates their respective personal agendas in ways neither anticipated.
"He who plays with a cat must bear its scratches."—Chinese Proverb
Penguin and Catwoman
A match made in hell. His interest in her is nothing more than unbridled lust. She sees him as little more than yet another tool to be exploited in pursuit of vengeance against The Batman. Their relationship is tenuous and short-lived, but no less entertaining.
"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them."—author and monk Thomas Merton
Catwoman and Batman
A sadistic game of cat and mouse. She plays him and he allows it. Both are getting what they want—dangerous sexual excitement in the form of a worthy adversary.
"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."—playwright James Arthur Baldwin
Bruce and Selina
Two lost souls, each drawn to the power the other generates, simply by knowing their true selves. So close they are to finding completeness in sharing themselves with another, and yet so afraid of revealing their secrets for fear of losing that very identity. The moment those masks are removed is the most touching and heartbreaking scene of the entire film.
Beautifully written and skillfully portrayed,
Batman Returns showcases an ensemble par excellence. Michael Keaton returns to the role—somewhat hesitantly, as the story goes—giving Bruce depth of character and emotion. Often times, no dialogue is required to receive the volumes of subtext coming through loud and clear.
Michael Gough (
Sleepy Hollow) is once again by Keaton's side as Alfred Pennyworth—surrogate father, confidant, and voice of reason. Danny DeVito is brilliantly unrecognizable as Penguin, the grotesque chief denizen of Gotham's literal underworld.
Michelle Pfieffer gives a career making transformation from the hopelessly awkward Selina to the supremely commanding Catwoman. Christopher Walken once again brightens the screen with yet another masterful, smarmy psychopath in the body of Max Shreck. Let's face it, you will not find a superhero film with more depth of performance authenticity than is captured here.
Burton and company seal the deal with production values grander than the character's 75-year history. Shifting locations from London to Los Angeles, production design Bo Welch had 16 of Hollywood's largest soundstages upon which to build and chill a brand new Gotham. More creative control—earned through the enhanced box office respectability of Batman and Edward Scissorhands—gives Batman Returns the director's unique visual stamp. Like the cross section of a grand old tree, Gotham's history can be seen in its conglomeration of architectural styles—neo-classical here, art deco there—merging together to show it's innate ability to survive despite the decades of moral and spiritual degradation that has overtaken it. In essence, the city becomes as important a character as those who populate it.
With design as the infrastructure and story/acting as the building blocks, the heart of the film belongs to composer Danny Elfman's magnificent score. With more than twice the music of an average film, Elfman uses the holidays to underscore the character's conflicted emotions and dastardly manipulations. His themes will stay will you long after the final credits roll.