For many moviegoers, the first thing that comes to mind when they hear The Dark Knight is not its titular character, nor director Christopher Nolan, nor DC comics. They first think of the late Heath Ledger's turn as the Clown Prince of Crime and Batman's archnemesis, the Joker. I remember a time before Ledger's tragic and untimely passing, a time in which he was announced to play the Joker, and a large amount of internet commentators said that they didn't want "the gay cowboy from Brokeback Mountain" (their words, not mine!) following Jack Nicholson's classically cuckoo performance as the Joker. Others were a bit less vitriolic, being cautiously optimistic but also holding reservations that Ledger could pull off such a demanding role. And others were not only excited that Nolan's acclaimed reboot Batman Begins (2005) was getting a sequel, they were also just excited that the Joker would once again feature in a live-action Batman film. I still remember the viral marketing campaign of "Why so serious?" posters and "I believe in Harvey Dent" slogans. This film had been shaping up to be not just a movie, but an event long before Ledger's death.
Of course, the rest is history. The Dark Knight recently celebrated its 10th anniversary, and ten years later it is easier to distinguish whether or not its general consensus was sincere or a product of hype. By and large, the massive critical acclaim the film has received is sincere. The Dark Knight not only feels like a sequel to Batman Begins, it also feels like a stand-alone. In fact, a lot of casual moviegoers in 2008 were unaware that The Dark Knight was a sequel. Upon its release and since, no other Batman film has been praised or analyzed to the degree or extent that The Dark Knight has.
The cast is, once again, excellent, with its weakest link being Maggie Gyllenhaal as Rachel Dawes, who was recast in the role after Katie Holmes had to leave the project over scheduling conflicts. As with Katie Holmes, in Gyllenhaal's defense, the character is pretty bland, mostly serving as a reason for Bruce Wayne to want to abandon the cape and cowl someday. Christian Bale is once again fantastic as Bruce Wayne and Batman, pullinh off both the playboy and the authentic Wayne, as well as believably transforming into the Batman. Over the years, I've had a love-hate relationship with Bale's signature Bat-growl. As of writing this review in 2018, I love the voice. It is memorable, transformative, and fun to imitate (although my tonsils hate me for it).
Equally fantastic is Michael Caine as Wayne butler and father-figure, Alfred. The Nolan films truly contain the best depiction of the Bruce Wayne and Alfred relationship. Alfred serves as the voice of reason, often seeing things before Bruce Wayne does. It is obvious to the audience that Alfred is trying to protect a man who is essentially a son to him. Morgan Freeman is once again a welcome addition as Lucius Fox, keeping Wayne Enterprises afloat and desigining cool gadgets for Batman. The always terrific and versatile Gary Oldman especially shines here as Commissioner Gordon, who, on his crusade against crime and corruption, manages to still be blind to much of the corruption directly in front of him. In other words, he is both heroic, inspiring, and flawed. And Aaron Eckhart is riveting as both Gotham's white knight, district attorney Harvey Dent, and the warped, damaged, tragic alter ego Two-Face. As Dent, Eckhart portrays the character occasionally behaving in morally questionable ways when not in the public, such as flipping a coin to decide whether or not he shoots a mentally insane patient that the Joker manipulated, which makes his fall from grace in Act 3 that much more believable.
That leaves Heath Ledger as the Joker, a role for which he was posthumously awarded the Best Supporting Actor Oscar. Even if Ledger had not won the Oscar had he lived to see his performance, the argument that he should have won could still be made. When I watch his performance, I do not see any trace of Ledger...I see the most frightening film iteration of the Joker yet. From laughs ranging in length, rhythm, and pitch, to the way he roars "LOOK AT ME!" at one of his torture victims like the devil incarnate, it is truly something to behold. The role is not only defined by his line delivery or costume design and makeup (which definitely adds a lot, giving us a grungier, more unhinged-looking Joker), but also by the way he moves and the subtle, odd mannerisms. There's the way he often flicks his tongue in between pauses while talking, for one. There's the way he uses his hands in wild gestures. He is the perfect antithesis to Bale's stoic (and sometimes unfairly called "boring") Dark Knight. Batman is a character with a strict moral code of not killing. The Joker is the exact opposite, an agent of chaos who delights in murder. The film pushes the issue of the opposing force of good and evil coming to a head, both Batman and the Joker being physical embodiments of that eternal struggle. For me, the moment most illustrative of this is the moment where The Dark Knight crosses over into "classic" territory: the interrogation room sequence. Most of you reading this need no explanation as to why I feel this way. Essentially, Batman loses his cool because both he and the Joker realize that Batman cannot intimidate the Joker to get information. The Joker LAUGHS as Batman beats him to a pulp because he wants to corrupt Batman. Ultimately, that is the only thing the Joker fails to do (to prove that Batman and the most of the citizens of Gotham can be corrupted), as depicted in another classic-cementing moment. In this sequence, Batman drops the Joker from the edge of a tall building before the Joker can detonate the ferries, after Gotham's citizens on either ferry proved the Joker wrong and did not detonate the other (there's nothing saying that BOTH ferries wouldn't have blown up anyway, which is clearly what the Joker was going to do himself). The Joker is cackling madly as he seemingly falls to his death, only to cease immediately as Batman's grappling hook finds him. Batman raises the Joker up until they are face-to-face, with the Joker hanging upside down. Nolan then has the camera rotate upside down, so that the Joker appears to be dangling upward; in my opinion, it is his way of showing thatr ultimately, the Joker is elated. Batman is his only true challenge, and as Joker states, he is an unstoppable force that has met an immovable object. Meanwhile, he has still managed to corrupt Harvey Dent, even if not the people of Gotham. Harvey, as Joker gleefully tells Batman, in his ace in the whole. To Batman's horror, the Joker tells him how he twisted Harvey Dent into a monster, and just before Gotham's SWAT team arrives atop the building to take him in, he gives his final line (and my personal favorite of his MANY great lines): "See, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push."
While hand-to-hand fight choreography has never been Nolan's strongest point as a director (excluding Inception), they are still shot better than in Batman Begins, and fortunately aren't the main focus here anyway. The standout action setpiece of The Dark Knight is Batman on his Tumbler (Batmobile which later self-destructs to form a bike) going after the Joker. And even this feels very small scale relative to other contemporary blockbusters, which is certainly no slight on the film. In fact, it impresses me more and more to this day. Nolan has always made extensive use of practical effects over computer-generated imagery whenever possible, and this film is no exception. Therefore, the film has not aged at all visually; it looks timeless.
The big advantage Nolan gives The Dark Knight, and the reason it transcends the superhero film genre, is that it is more of a crime drama like Michael Mann's Heat (Nolan has cited this as a primary inspiration). Much of The Dark Knight is wrought with slow-burning tension, much like the three-hour Heat. This is a big reason why I no longer criticize the ferry scene, because its length, Hans Zimmer's score, and the close-ups of Gotham's citizens on either ferry add so much memorable suspense to the film.
That leads me to Zimmer's score. While his theme for Batman isn't as hummable as Danny Elfman's main theme for Tim Burton's 1989 film, it still manages to be quite beautiful, memorable, multilayered, and representative of the caped crusader. It also is evolved from Zimmer's main theme from Batman Begins, into something more poignant and defined. In contrast, Zimmer's Joker theme is more chaotic and uninged, like the character it represents. It sounds very unpredictable, the violin strings sharp-edged. His melody is somewhat akin to the shark's from Jaws (Zimmer, I believe, has compared his Joker theme to the iconic Jaws notes). It is uneasy, slowly building up to the reveal of the monster. When the monster is revealed, the music is at its loudest and harshest. When it comes to District Attorney Harvey Dent, the theme is hopeful and heroic, and for the "fallen angel" Two-Face, it is tragic and twisted. And the theme when Batman allows himself to be framed for Dent's murders at the end is heroically tragic and hopeful at the same time.
I could go on and on about The Dark Knight and what it has done for superhero films and big blockbusters. Maybe someday in a podcast, I'll explore it more. As Gary Oldman's Commissioner Gordon states, "He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector, a dark knight." I give The Dark Knight a 9.5/10, which is also an A+ on my scale! How about you? Thanks for reading!
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