Batman

Directed by: Tim Burton

Written by: Sam Hamm, Warren Skaaren

Long before he became a Johnny-Depp obsessed caricature of himself, Tim Burton established a modernized vision of Batman which broke from the classic but cartoonish Batman of the Adam West era.

In the beginning of the film, Batman (Keaton) is a mysterious vigilante who is feared despite the fact that most people think he is merely an urban legend. The caped crusader's rise to fame coincides with the Joker's (Nicholson) rise to power in Gotham City's criminal element. The two tussle it out for a while, and the good guy wins. (There's also a sub-plot in there about Bruce Wayne falling in love with Vicky Vale [Basinger], a photo-journalist on Batman's trail, which eventually overlaps with the main plot.)

It's hard, in the shadow of Heath Ledger's later acclaimed performance, to put some perspective on Jack Nicholson's take on the Joker. But Nicholson's performance in this film was totally earth-shaking. He managed to tie his work to the Jokers of the Adam West era (especially with his terrifying cackle) while also forging new ground with the character's deadly charisma. It's unfortunate that he never had an opportunity to reprise the role and develop his Joker any further.

Beyond Jack Nicholson, the entire cast should be credited for filling out their roles well, regardless of the number of lines and scenes they had. Jack Palance dazzles, as always. Michael Gough establishes the gold standard for Alfred, Bruce Wayne's butler (sorry Michael Caine). It's too bad that Billy Dee Williams didn't get enough of a chance to flesh out his part as up-and-coming DA Harvey Dent, but his handful of scenes revealed a lot of potential that never was harnessed.

To be honest, the special effects and sets did not hold up since the film's original release. (This problem was magnified because I saw it on the big screen as part of a local theater's classic film series.) There's a low-budget sense to the movie, despite the fact that it was a big-budget movie at the time. For example, the different settings are relatively blank and ill-defined. There is no sense of scope or scale for Gotham City - locales seemed to be created as mere background spaces for the characters to interact, with nothing to differentiate one street corner from another. Considering that Gotham is supposed to be an extremely large city, most of the scenes are noticeably devoid of people, or any feeling of hustle-and-bustle.

Earlier, I mentioned Tim Burton's deterioration as a filmmaker. "Batman" stands as a testament to the potential he had as a director. It's a dark and weird film (and the series got darker and weirder with his sequel, "Batman Returns"), and stands out as a classic of the superhero genre. He took the Batman concept and gave it his own flavor, re-envisioning the archetype and leaving this film as a touchstone by which other superhero films were measured for a long time. I hope Tim Burton can eventually come back to the creative muse that inspired him to make "Batman," rather than resting on his laurels and his name and pumping out lame unimaginative rehashes of previously brilliant films which are mostly popular because they have the name Johnny Depp attached to them, as he has of late.

The Other Guys

Directed by: Adam McKay

Written by: Adam McKay, Chris Henchy

There's something downright alluring about the buddy-cop genre of film, whether it's being played straight as an action movie or being parodied as a comedy. Hollywood has used this archetype numerous times over the last few decades, altering it only slightly, while never quite reaching the idealistic peak for which they shoot.

"The Other Guys" follows a typical plot-arc for a buddy-cop film: Two seemingly mismatched cops accidentally uncover a massive criminal plot. In this case, the plot is a Madoff-style ponzi scheme which involves both the mob and the police pension plans. Chaos and hilarity ensue.

One of the problems with "The Other Guys" is that it fails to escape the gravity of influence of every other buddy-cop movie. When compared to other recent additions to the genre - "Cop Out" and "Hot Fuzz" - it's hard to see what the difference between the three films is (aside from the fact that "Hot Fuzz" was British). The same problem applies to Will Ferrell's performance - it's hard to differentiate between his character in this film and in most of his other films.

That being said, "The Other Guys" is pretty funny, but that humor is unbalanced. The jokes dramatically shift from slapstick silliness (the "bribery" scene) to more cerebral meta-humor (the running gag of Michael Keaton unknowingly quoting TLC songs). Mark Walberg's character is uneven and randomly morphs from the classic straight-man to a mindless gag and back again at the whim of the script. For example, when he is in the car with Ferrell he plays his part completely seriously with a bit of synicism, but mere moments later when he is having dinner at Ferrell's house he is reduced to a bumbling idiot when trying to talk to Ferrell's wife (played by Eva Mendes). I thought the scenes with Mendes were great, but the total shift in character made for a lot of dissonance, which is hard to take in a comedy that is already asking the viewer to suspend their disbelief beyond most films.

One highlight of the movie is the early use of Samuel L. Jackson and The Rock (aka Dwayne Johnson but forever known as The Rock) as walking parodies of macho man cops that often appear in more serious cop films. Both actors play their parts with such absolute seriousness which is repeatedly turned on its head with moments of complete absurdity. Both players over-act to the point of humor without giving a hint of self-consciousness, which allows their scenes to play both as action sequences and parodies of action sequences.

I appreciated and enjoyed "The Other Guys," but it's hard to recommend it over any other buddy-cop type of comedy. (Except maybe "Cop Out," though I think that speaks more to the weakness of "Cop Out" more than anything else. Sorry Kevin Smith.)