Read a Comic Book, Will Ya?

Geeky Movie Tripe

I thoroughly enjoyed Batman Begins; even more than I expected I would, and I was unusually eager to see this one, for some reason I really can't explain. I'd agree with most critics that the film falters in the third act as it gives into the Hollywood penchant for huge set pieces -- but not as horrifically as you'd be lead to believe by the pseudo-intellectual critical masses who feel compelled to compensate for their pleasure at any aspect of a summer blockbuster.

The action editing is too choppy, to be sure. The director and critics have attributed it to an effort – perhaps misguided – to impart a sense of ninja stealth. I'm inclined to think that it's tough for a stuntman to pull off a convincing thrust kick in a stiff rubber suit.

My main complaint with the critics on this one is their insistence in saying the movie draws heavily from the works of Frank Miller, who authored the semi-apocalyptic "The Dark Knight Returns" and the far superior "Batman: Year One." Clearly, many of the story elements and visuals – young Bruce Wayne falling into the cave, the look of the Batmobile, the final Joker allusion – are boosts from Miller's work.

But the central theme of Bruce Wayne trying to channel his fear and anger into positive action owes far more the work of Denny O'Neil, who along with master artist Neil Adams created the fascist Ra's Al Ghul in the late 1970s for that express purpose. No one before had tried to explain why an obsessed vigilante such as the Batman refused to take the final step and kill; the convention originally was introduced simply to make comics more kid-safe.

O'Neil fleshed out this twist on dysfunction, as well as embracing the upper-class arrogance that tells Wayne he not only has the power to make a difference, but that he's entitled too. One of the main things I like about Batman Begins is its open concession that if not for Wayne Industry's weapons research, there would be no Batman; my least favorite aspect of the film is probably the pandering depiction of Wayne's father as a billionaire hippie doctor intent on giving away all his money.

In Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns," the protagonist is consumed with the idea that The Bat – which actually comes bursting through a window to "claim" him – is a elemental spirit of predation that possesses an utter lack of remorse for which Wayne yearns. The mini-series ends with Batman, now decowled, plotting the anarchistic overthrow of a government that has become worse than thieves and murders.

Hardly a guy who would try to hook back up with an old girlfriend in the D.A.'s office.

The idea of The Bat as Wayne's primal fear that must be channeled but not entirely conquered – that's the '70s all the way, man. I mean, the filmmakers used O'Neil's villain, who nobody – including a large number of geeks I know – had ever heard of. Is it that tough to do a little reporting, beyond reading whatever self-aggrandizing pabulum The Times ran with?