The End of the Nostalgia Critic/Top 11 NC Episodes

   Sad to say it, but I kind of expected this day would come.  Last week, after the conclusion of To Boldly Flee, the online film celebrating the fourth anniversary of Channel Awesome and the That Guy With The Glasses website, Doug Walker announced that he and his brother, Rob, had decided to retire the character of Nostalgia Critic, the persona that has largely defined the burgeoning career of not only himself, but of all the other reviewers and entertainers for whom his website has become a base of operations. 

    Not that either the website or Channel Awesome as a whole are done, far from it.  While Nostalgia Critic would no longer be a weekly show, he said, he could bring him back for the occasional special, and his other personas (Ask That Guy, Chester A. Bum, and Video Game Confessions, among others) would continue as well.  In addition, he is already planning a new web series called “Demo Reels.”  Nostalgia Critic may be gone, but the career of Doug Walker, in all likelihood, is far from over. 

    However, this is still a pretty big moment.  It was the Nostalgia Critic persona that fueled his career in the first place, and the constant back-and-forth between him and Youtube over the NC videos that helped launch the TGWTG website back in 2008.  It remains to this day the biggest draw on the site, bringing in (according to Wikipedia)  over 100,000 views a week.  Many people know him only as the Nostalgia Critic.  Given all that, it is somewhat surprising that he would choose to end something that is still so enduringly popular. 

    Personally, I think the signs have been there for some time that he would eventually call it quits.  The first warning sign was the end of his review of “My Pet Monster,” where he has a mock phone call with the director of the film and is “ridiculed” for being an adult who watches children’s movies, after which he sadly stares out the window and a caption announces, “The End?”  The next was when I first saw the trailer for To Boldly Flee, and his somber voice-over describing how everything had been building “to this moment.”  So while I am very much saddened (and, yes, nostalgic) about the news that the character is pretty much retired, I can’t say I’m shocked. 

    I do find it rather poignant that he would retire the character shortly after my graduation though, since it was just a few months before I started college as a freshman that he launched the site, and I’ve been following him weekly for well over 4 years since then.  Now I understand how my senior friends from my freshmen year felt when “Scrubs” ended right as they graduated.  Like an old friend has gone away, a moment in time is gone.  And it’s not just because his shows were a fun, regular way to put off studying.  The Nostalgia Critic videos are one of the biggest influences on my own sense of humor, along with Zero Punctuation, Monty Python, and Mystery Science Theater.  They have also greatly altered how I view the internet and the possibilities it offers for movies, shows, and comedic creativity.

    There is something remarkably unique about the work of the TGWTG team.  For all the audiences that the site caters to, and the huge number of regular viewers they receive (over 1 million a month), it’s hardly a cash cow.  These people are paid by the ads they post on the site, but they are hardly raking in mounds of profits from their work.  And many of them, outside of the people who watch their videos, are hardly known, since some of them review VERY specific genres and subgenres of film, comics, and video games.  So they aren’t exactly obtaining celebrity status by doing this either.  They each put in hours and hours of effort to film, cut, edit, dub, and format all of these videos (and the amount currently on the site is staggering), often using little more than commercially available laptop programs and perhaps one decent camera and microphone set.  Their work is truly homemade. 

    And it’s that level of personal touch and devotion that, in my opinion, makes the site so special, and why their work has such an enduring effect on both myself and others.  Even though many of them use carefully crafted and maintained personas and characters for their videos, through every video and every series shines a strong and very evident passion for their subjects.  They do what they do not because it brings them profit or celebrity status, but because they just enjoy spending their time doing it.  Because of this, after watching so many of the videos of so many of the people on the site, you almost come to feel that you know these people personally, that you’ve really met them and talked about your shared interests with them.  I can’t help but think of Doug, Todd, Lindsay, Lupa, Linkara, and the others with a certain warmth and affection.  Not as friends, of course, but as comfortable, familiar acquaintances.  We live in a society where most television shows, news programs, and movies are increasingly impersonal and mechanical in how they’re made, formulated not out of a desire to create art and express passion, but simply to make money.  As a result, having a niche site like TGWTG where artists can bring their work and others can come to enjoy it just for what it is is special indeed. 

    Through the popularity of the Nostalgia Critic character, Doug Walker has created something genuine.  His work, and the world that he and the members of the site have worked to build over the past 4 years, inspires both myself and others to always remember that, no matter what, there are always ways to enjoy and express your passions in life.  And for that, I proffer my hat to you, Nostalgia Critic, and thank you for all the laughs you have brought us over the years. 

    I am currently contemplating doing some retrospectives of my own on the Nostalgia Critic (Doug will be doing his videos over the coming months), including formal reviews of the three full-length anniversary films Channel Awesome has done thus far.  Currently I am in the process of putting together a list of the “classic” Nostalgia critic episodes, consisting of my 30-40 personal favorites of the 284 “official” episodes listed on the Nostalgia Critic page.  For length’s sake, however, I will save that for a follow-up post. 

    So to conclude this preliminary article, I offer to my readers my own Top 11 Nostalgia Critic Episodes list (possibly to be followed by a Youtube counterpart).  Why Top 11?  Because he went one step beyond, and so should we.  Thanks Doug. 

The Top 11 Nostalgia Critic Episodes: 

11. Pokemon: The Movie- April 20, 2008
10. Top 11 Most Awkward Christopher Walken Moments- March 30, 2010
9. We're Back!- August 12, 2009
8. Top 11 Villain Songs- February 23, 2010
7. Good Son- February 13, 2009
6. Casper- October 20, 2009
5. Top 11 Nostalgic Mindfucks- February 24, 2009
4. Siskel and Ebert- November 10, 2009
3. Batman and Robin- May 23, 2008
2. The Room- July 13, 2010
1. Nostalgia Critic MUSICAL REVIEW: Moulin Rouge- November 29, 2011

Nolan and the Batman Franchise: What Now?

   Well, Rises has come and gone.  And just like that, Nolan’s Batman trilogy, 8 years in the making, has come to a close.  And a pretty definitive one at that.  Despite the (SPOILERS) open-ended nature of that final shot of Joseph Gordon-Levitt rising up in the cave, Chris Nolan has stated he will never again direct a Batman film, meaning that his stamp on the franchise is officially over. 

    And what a stamp it is.  Whether you love them, hate them, or just don’t give a damn, it’s impossible to deny the influence this trilogy has had on both the Batman universe and the entire genre of superhero movies.  All three were massive box-office successes, and The Dark Knight is still considered by many to be one of the most definitive superhero movies ever made.  So now that it’s done, what are we left with?  What legacy (or legacies) does Chris Nolan leave the Batman universe? 

    Origin Story:  One of the first things Nolan did with the trilogy was to provide a solid, detailed, and *relatively* reasonable origin story for the caped crusader, something that no previous Batman movie had attempted (I speak of movie origin stories here, not ones in the comics, if there are any).  It’s interesting, it’s engaging, it’s fun to watch him slowly get the hang of skulking around Gotham at night, and, perhaps most importantly, it really gets us interested in Bruce Wayne.  A constant problem with Batman is that his villains are often so much more fun than he is.  And while Heath Ledger definitely steals most of the show in The Dark Knight, by giving us a strong background for Batman in the first film, he helps give viewers an understanding of (and sympathy with) Bruce Wayne as a person, which, in my opinion, carries strongly through the other two films. 

    (More) Gritty Realism:  This particular trend in the Batman universe had been going on for several decades prior to the Nolan franchise (Burton’s films were particularly influential in this regard), but Dark Knight and Rises both raised the bar for gritty realism even higher with their dark tones, tragic story themes, and brutal (if noticeably bloodless) violence.  Both films (especially Dark Knight) are filled with heavy references and allusions to our own post-9/11 society, making Gotham and its struggles with super-villains-turned-terrorists hit just a tad closer to home.  Any effort to launch a new Batman franchise (and there will be another, sadly) will almost certainly be judged on how well it matches the tone set by this franchise. 

    The Joker:  I’m having a hard time trying to think of a movie franchise as deeply influenced by the death of a main actor as this one.  Not only was Heath Ledger’s performance genuinely ground-breaking for the character of the Joker (and well worth the Oscar nod), but his sudden and tragic death prior to the release of the film elevated it to an almost sacred level in the minds of the public (even though it technically wasn’t his LAST film appearance).  Unfortunately, it also partially crippled Rises from the get-go, because no matter how well Nolan wrote the character (and no matter how good a replacement he found), there was no way he could include even a mention of the Joker without pissing off legions of audience members, convinced he was trivializing the “last act” of a great actor. 

    There is no shortage of opinion that this hurt Rises considerably.  The briefest of mentions are made to the crimes of Harvey at the tale-end of the last movie (and some passing references to the “Dent Law” that followed), but aside from that, all of Dark Knight may as well have fallen into a Dark Hole in the nether regions of space.  Despite this obvious, but painfully necessary, omission, I still really, really liked the movie, but even I can’t help but imagine how much more Nolan could have done with both Bane and the overall plot if he could have thrown the Joker into the mix as well. 

    And as deep as Heath Ledger’s influence on Nolan’s trilogy has been, I am convinced that his shadow is going to loom large over the entire Batman universe for some time.  If there is another serious attempt at a Batman film series, it is inevitable that they will bring in another interpretation of the Joker.  How can they not, after all, when he is consistently Batman’s #1 arch nemesis?  I am convinced that, when that does happen, the inevitable cries of “How could they?” and “It’ll never be as good!” will surface, and the newer franchise will suffer as a result. 

      Bane:  Chris Nolan has always been about re-imagining concepts from the Batman comics in his own way, and out of all the characters he plucks from the coffee-stained pages of the printed universe, Bane definitely undergoes one of the biggest makeovers.  Although I have never read the comics (or watched the Animated Series), Bane was never (to my knowledge) considered a significant or important villain.  Here, however, he is given a powerful and threatening intellect to rival Bruce Wayne’s, an AWESOME accent (yes, I love his voice, and I am not ashamed to say it), and a connection to the League of Shadows.  What sort of effect this will have on the Batman universe as a whole probably won’t be felt right away, but I would not at all be surprised if a comic, graphic novel, TV series, or even a future movie franchise uses Nolan’s invention as a template for its own Bane someday. 

    Catwoman:  Another character to change pretty substantially from the Burton film version, Catwoman is never even named in Rises, just passingly referred to as the “Cat Burglar.”  Additionally, Nolan removed the bizarre sexuality of Burton’s Catwoman, making Selina more of a low-class version of Batman, albeit with *slightly* more questionable motives.  Yet another reinvention that could be the genesis for future takes on the character. 

    All-Star Performances from A Bevy of Great Actors/Actresses:  Christian Bale.  Morgan Freeman.  Cilian Murphy.  Liam Neeson.  Michael Caine.  Tom Wilkinson.  Gary Oldman.  Aaron Eckhart.  Heath Ledger.  Maggie Gyllenhaal.  Anne Hathaway.  Tom Hardy.  Joseph Gordon-Leavitt.  Marion Cotillard. 

Need I say more? 

    Technical Perfection (IMAX style):  Thoughts and opinions on the individual films of the franchise aside, Nolan does succeed resoundingly in making Gotham bigger with each progressive movie.  This shouldn’t really be a surprise.  Nolan has always had a talent for making films that look amazing.  While earlier Batman films were hindered by lower budgets and lower technical capabilities, Nolan puts his love of IMAX-style film technology and big, moving cinematography on full display.  Using both high-powered cameras, old-style prop and set pieces for effects, and a combination of shots from several major US cities, Nolan managed to give us a Gotham that genuinely sprawled, setting yet another high bar for any director that tries a reboot. 

    Are these all of the ways in which Chris Nolan has altered or influence the world of Batman movies?  Probably not.  They’re just the ones that happened to pop into my head as I was writing this.  It’s always difficult to pinpoint exactly how a movie can influence culture, even years or decades after its release.  It’s especially hard for a franchise as defining and pervasive as this one.  For 8 years now, Chris Nolan’s Batman has been a pretty dominant presence in our culture, and will likely remain so for a long time.  They could even someday ascend to the level of the original Superman films in the public conscience, if a later reboot doesn’t manage to overshadow them.    

    None of these movies are perfect, of course.  I have discussed their varied flaws at length more times than I care to count, and I anticipate many more future nit-pickings.    That’s all part of the fun though.  They’re big, they are immensely entertaining to watch, and they take Batman in a lot of new and different directions.  It saddens me to think that a reboot is already being planned, but given how comic book heroes are part of our social conscience now (and, yes, how well they pay), I guess it’s inevitable.  No matter how good any later films are, though, this trilogy will always be “The” Batman movies in my mind.  After all, I didn’t become a Batman “fan” until I saw Begins, and, much like with Doctor Who, you never forget your first Batman.

-Judge Richard

A Kingdom's Tale: Historical Accuracy in Film

   As a longtime student of history, I have always felt a keen interest in how different films use and portray historical figures and events.  Movies set in particular time periods tend to follow two mains trends- those that deliberately try to accurately recreate particular events (Hotel Rwanda, Amistad, Gettysburg) and those that merely use those events/figures as a frame for telling a more universal, timeless tale (Amadeus, The Social Network, etc.). 

    These trends are subject to a rather unfortunate double standard.  Most filmmakers using history as a template are focused (as well they should be) on simply making a great film, and make whatever changes they deem necessary to tell the particular story they want to tell, without bothering to notate every one for the audience’s sake.  Unfortunately, many a film that doesn’t claim to be an accurate retelling of history is often slammed for those selfsame inaccuracies, by both critics and regular viewers.  On the flip side, it is unheard of for a film to be criticized for sticking too close to actual events.  A prime example of this is Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven. 

    Released in 2005, Kingdom of Heaven takes place in Outremer (the Christian Crusading states) in the late 12th century, depicting the growing conflict between Saladin (a Muslim general who had recently unified Egypt and Syria) and the restless knights and nobles of Baldwin IV, the Leper King of Jerusalem.  The film depicts the decisions leading to the real-life Battle of Hattin, which utterly destroyed the armies of Jerusalem, leading to Saladin’s recapture of Jerusalem after a century of Christian rule. 

    The central figure in all this is Legolas.  I mean Will Turner.  I mean Balian of Ibelin, a recently widowed French blacksmith who is convinced by a man named Godfrey (played by Oskar Schindler) to come with him to the Holy Land.  Driven by doubts about his own faith, he joins Godfrey and begins to be trained as a knight.  As they travel (and after Godfrey is wounded in a fight) Balian learns that he is Godfrey’s son, and heir to a parcel of land near Jerusalem called Ibelin (he is later knighted before Gofrey dies from his wounds).  

    After his arrival, we see Balian attempt to navigate the twisted realms of Outremer politics and intrigue.  An uneasy peace between Saladin and Baldwin IV (portrayed by, of all people, Ed Norton) is threatened by the militant Templars, led by Raynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan.  As the noble and moral figures of Balian, Baldwin, and their allies attempt to hold back the blatantly evil Raynald and Guy, they constantly discuss and debate the true meaning of faith, and how it can drive both the Christians and Muslims to acts both magnanimous and horrifying. 

    It is ambitious film, if nothing else, seeking to combine elements of action, old-school, Lawrence of Arabia-style historical drama, and heady religious discourse.  It has a powerhouse of a supporting cast (including Liam Neeson, Jeremy Irons, Ed Norton, and David Thewlis), and tries to offer a genuine, sober look at the connections between extreme religion and conflict, and at how the driving forces of the Crusades, in many ways, live on in the Holy Land to this day.  In my opinion, it succeeds with flying colors, offering a potent tale of faith, radicalism, and redemption. 

    However, there seem to be many who disagree with me.  The theatrical release of the film has only a 39% percent on Rotten Tomatoes, and a 63 overall rating on Metacritic.  Part of this is undoubtedly due to the fact that Scott was forced to cut almost an hour of his original version for theaters, removing a considerable amount of depth from the characters.  His Director’s Cut, released later that same year, was the 194-minute version of the film he originally presented to the studio (20th Century Fox, if anyone’s wondering), and has gotten a far better reception from critics. 
   
    In addition to lukewarm reviews of the theatrical release, much criticism was directed at a perceived lack of historical accuracy in the film.  Depictions of Baldwin IV, Syblla, Guy, Raynald, and others are heavily fictionalized.  Orlando Bloom’s tortured, simple-blacksmith-turned-perfect-knight Balian is a far, far cry from the real Balian, who was much more politically involved in the succession conflicts following Baldwin IV’s death.  Historian Jonathan Riley-Smith specifically attacked an apparent bias against Christianity; the patriarch of Jerusalem is cold, cowardly, and unfeeling, and Guy, Raynald, and the Templars are almost cartoonish in their lust for Muslim blood (the shouted phrase “GOD WILLS IT” is their repeated chorus for most of the film).  Riley-Smith even went so far as to call the film, “Osama Bin Laden’s version of the Crusades.”

    As a historian myself, such sentiments trouble me.  Yes, the film is loaded with inaccuracies; most of the characters and events are highly dramatized, and the dynastic and political conflicts are made much more simple than they really were.  But, as I’ve said before, that’s sort of the point.  It’s a movie.  The point of a movie, first and foremost, is to tell a great story.  And to do that, a filmmaker seeking to use real events as a framework will have to dramatize certain things, simplify others, and leave some parts out entirely. 

    The funny thing is, in a way, historians must do the same thing.  History is nothing more or less than the story of everything there is- the ultimate novel ever written, the greatest film ever made.  As a result, historians are bound by the same constraints as filmmakers seeking to explore a certain event or historical figure; since we can never know everything about them- every motivation, every thought, every word spoken- the historian must conjecture, deduce, and sometimes flat-out guess in their efforts to understand why things happened the way they did.  We seek to be “objective.”  We try to reconstruct cause, motivation, and effect as accurately as possible, using every bit of information available to us, but in the end, our efforts are still just that- a reconstruction.  A replica.  A remake. 

    I suppose what I’m getting at is that there is little constructive benefit to damning a historical movie for inaccuracies that are as inevitable as those in “legitimate” history.  And if so many people are so misinformed about the past that a film can mislead them, then we historians aren’t doing our jobs properly.

-Judge Richard

The Problem With Sequels

    Every year seems to bring with it at least a handful of sequels/reboots/remakes of old (and sometimes beloved) film franchises.  I’m not talking about sequels in the vein of Dark Knight Rises, which are planned from the getgo.  I mean the sequels that are tacked on after a film succeeds in an effort to repeat its success, or remakes/reboots with the same intent.  This year’s crop has included such films as The Amazing Spiderman, Ice Age: Continental Drift, Men in Black III, and Madagascar III. 

    For the record, I have not seen any of these films, and, quite honestly, I do not plan to.  I am aware that these films have gotten fairly decent reviews, and were box-office successes (all four currently rank among the 10 highest-grossing films of 2012 thus far).  Plenty of my friends saw them, and liked them.  I am still not going to see them. 

    Why?  Not so much because of the films themselves, but rather because of what they represent.  All are part of the unique trend to art forms specifically involving stories and entertainment- the desire for repetition.  People tend to want (and will pay money for) something they’ve already seen. 

    No other forms of art are treated this way, not quite.  Imagine if painting was treated the same way as video games- if Da Vinci pulled a COD and just painted the Last Supper over and over again, would he be hailed as the genius and visionary that he was?  We all remember Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, but how many of us remember the 12 other composers who, upon its release, promptly wrote their own symphonies with the exact same chord structure, themes, and instrumental/choral breakdown, but in a different key?  If they did write them, no one remembers, and rightly so. 

    A creation of art, like the creation of a child, is a singular act.  Although the act itself can be repeated again and again, the products of each act, though often similar, can never, ever be duplicated.  Books and movies are, in this regard, no different from paintings, sculptures, music, or any other form of artistic expression.  Each movie made has a story and existence all its own, and it is my firm belief that this individuality of every film, book, and piece of music should be celebrated every bit as much as the individuality of every human life. 

    Why, then, do movies seem to be victim to such constant repetition?  Men In Black as a film franchise floundered years ago when the second film bombed.  Ice Age was a fantastic, funny film the first time around, and offered no avenue for a sequel.  The previous Spiderman trilogy barely finished, and Paramount made it clear that this new film was made solely to maintain their rights to the franchise.  Even the FIRST Madagascar wasn’t that great a film, and yet, somehow, it’s already become a trilogy.  That there will be sequels is inevitable, but why THESE franchises? 

    The cynic in me would like to respond with a single word- “money.”  But, while that is clearly a factor (sometimes more so, sometimes less), that would be rather harsh of me, not to mention naive.  However I might wish it otherwise, money-making and the arts have always been rather intricately connected.  Many great masterpieces of film, literature, and music had their origins in a desire to make it big (Apocalypse Now and most classic rock, for example).  The impulse to create genuine art and the desire to make malenky craptons of money will probably always go hand in hand.  It’s the simple nature of the beast. 

    I must remind myself every so often that this should not be cause for despair.  Many profit-driven enterprises have resulted in great strides throughout history, in all areas of human society.  And plenty of sequels and remakes done for Geld have had their own merit.  And even though they aren’t always good, they can still be enjoyed.  So perhaps I’ve a bit harsh on the offspring of shameless coin-grabbing by the studio execs in Hollywood.  Just as the poor shall always be among us (according to Jesus anyway), so shall the soulless Boardroom Director.  And as long as some people find enjoyment in these movies, I suppose there’s no harm done.  Or at least not *too* much harm.  Probably.   

    So I guess I should rescind my earlier statement.  Perhaps I will see some of these movies one day.  Or maybe just Spiderman.  As long as I don’t have to pay for it. 

-Judge Richard

Batman Begins vs. The Dark Knight

**note** I wrote the following essay about a year ago, before the release of Rises.  A reflection on Rises and Nolan's trilogy as a whole is in the works.  Until that is complete, enjoy!

Before I delve into my reflections on these two films, I would just like to state for record that these are both great films.  Both are among the best comic-book films ever made, let alone two of if not THE two best Batman films ever made.  They are both favorites of mine, films I love every time I see them.  I say this just so that everyone reading this knows that the critique I am about to level at them both comes from a place of love, like a parent pointing out where their children make mistakes.

With that being established, I am just going to come right out and say it.  I think Batman Begins is better than The Dark Knight.  The Dark Knight made more money, was far more well-known, well-publicized, and is lauded by critics and film lovers as the greatest Batman movie ever made.  Being someone who is never afraid to hold controversial opinions or go in the face of conventional fads and what's popular (see my thoughts on Inglorious Bastards and Fight Club for further details), this would not bother me except for the fact there seem to be an inordinate number of people who have either not seen Batman Begins or aren't even aware of its existence.  Now, this is obviously just opinion after all, so while I am going to argue why I feel Batman Begins is the better film, my intentions for this article are not so much to alter people's opinions, but to simply make the case that it deserves a lot more attention than it gets.

I'm going to start off by talking about what's right with both of these films.  Since these are both Chris Nolan films, both of these films have great writing, great acting, great characters, great action, great filming, great music, and are just all-around great.  Nolan really knows how to draw people into a story and present great, memorable characters, and both these films show off his skill at this.  He is also a fantastic writer, able to blend great, exciting action with deep, philosophical reflections, and these films are shining examples of this as well.  In addition to the strong writing, filming, and casting, Hans Zimmer, who I still maintain is the next John Williams, provides fantastic and atmospheric orchestral scores for both films.

For me, the divergence really boils down to the plot, and there are three main things that, for me, set Batman Begins above Dark Knight.  The first is that, unlike any other Batman film in existence, Batman Begins actually shows the story of how Bruce Wayne, orphaned rich boy, becomes Batman, ass-kicking vigilante.  How he goes off to find answers and purpose, ends up in an Asian prison, and is released and then trained in the Himalayas by Ra's al Ghul, who later becomes the villain.  This takes up the entire first act of the movie, with the second act detailing how he returns to Gotham and establishes himself as a vigilante, slowly putting together the technological capabilities and police/business contacts to be a legitimate crime fighter.  Batman, in his "final form," doesn't appear until about halfway through the movie.  As a result, this is the Batman film that almost isn't a Batman film, and that makes it stick out a lot more in my mind.  More than any of the other films, you can really grasp Bruce as a human being and not just a character archetype.  Now, I realize a lot of people tend to scoff at the film for having so little to do with the Batman world (Bruce Wayne and NINJAS?), seeing the first act as a little too fantastic.  But, let's be honest folks, this is Batman we're talking about.  A millionaire dressing up as a bat and fighting crime.  That, in a nutshell, is this entire franchise.  And Nolan takes this admittedly silly premise and makes it about as realistic and believable as one possibly can by showing us the exact reasons why Bruce decided to use bats as his symbol, and it's pretty believable.  

The second point of difference between the two films is that Batman Begins is just more tightly written, whereas Dark Knight suffers from a number of plot holes, some small, some major, that only become more and more prevalent as the film goes on.  A prime example of this is the party scene.  Remember that?  Where the Joker is trying to kill off Harvey Dent and invades Wayne's party? Yep, that one. The first problem with this scene is the fact that Batman and Rachel fall off a massive building, hitting a taxi cab to break their fall, and yet neither of them have so much as a scratch. I couldn't buy that the first time I saw it, and I still can't. There are any number of ways Nolan could have had them be saved that would have worked better. Also, ever notice how we never see what happens at the party after that? The Joker is still in the room with all those innocent people, but it just cuts to the next day without resolving whether he leaves or stays and kills anyone else. Not a major point, to be sure, but still one that bugs me, and there are a number of them throughout the film (which, for brevity's sake, I will avoid here). 

The next major problem is the Joker himself.  The Joker always claims that he doesn't want money and that he doesn't have any sort of plan. However, pulling off the crazy hijacks he and his henchmen perform, especially at the end of the film, would require both ungodly sums of money and an incredibly detailed, well-drawn out plan that depended on huge numbers of henchmen and incredible luck. He suddenly decides to blow up a hospital. Within an hour. How does he manage to get past security and wire a massive hospital to be completely demolished within one hour? And, while I understand his little mind game to get people onto the boats, not only did he have no way of guaranteeing that one of them would be filled entirely with criminals, but how did he get enough materials, time, and security access to fully rig up both of those boats in addition to the hospital? And for that matter, why the hell does a massive city like Gotham only have two major ferries? That seems a little low for a city that's supposed to be such a huge metropolis. There's actually a video from the Youtube music video parody group Key Of Awesome that specifically points out the flaws in this part of the film (type in "Batman Is Confused").

Now, in regards to this aspect of the movie, one could make the argument that the Joker as a character is less of a man and more of a force, a manifestation of the darker side of human nature. As such, he is just sorta able to be anywhere he needs to be and do anything he needs to do to push people to the brink. This would make the Joker's attacks seem less like coordinated, planned efforts of a single, human terrorist and more like a force of nature deliberately concentrating its fury on a specific group of people. While I could certainly buy that (it actually makes the Joker seem even more unstoppable and terrifying than he already is), I don't feel that that entirely saves the movie from itself because of the fact that one of the strengths of these films are how realistically gritty and visceral Nolan has been making them, turning the occasional campy-ness of the earlier films (even the Burton ones, let's be frank) completely on their head.  Dark Knight was actually that rare film that emotionally unsettled me the first time I saw it. However, these particular these flaws, while they never stop me from enjoying the film whenever I watch it, sort of detract from that by making it just a little too unrealistic, even for a Batman film.  Say the Joker is a force, okay, but that would mean letting supernatural forces enter into a world that's "supposed" to be based in reality.

One last point; another reason why I like Batman Begins more than The Dark Knight is what I call Sequelitis, or "Godfather Part II" Syndrome. This is what happens when two movies use the same characters and take place in the same universe, but are not necessarily connecting or dependent story lines (as opposed to the LOTR or Harry Potter films), where each of the films can be considered and enjoyed separately from the other film. The Godfather films are examples of this. Both of the Godfather films (the two that matter anyway) can be watched and enjoyed separately, and judged on their own merits. However, although they are both great films, it is not possible to enjoy Godfather Part II as much unless you see the first one, which sets up the main characters and their relationships with one another.

The same principal applies here to the Batman films. While the actual events of each film are not directly connected to each other, the characters and relationships are the same. As a result, while The Dark Knight can certainly be enjoyed on its own, unless you see Batman Begins first you can't appreciate the relationships or characters quite as well, since Batman Begins is where they were all introduced and established. This one is not so much a case of Batman Begins inherently being better so much as it is a case of order. Batman Begins came first and built the universe of the new films, Dark Knight came second and provided a continuation of them. As a result, when it comes to picking favorites I'm inclined to pick the one that came first and created the universe, like with The Godfather.

I realize it might sound like I'm being overly nit-picky with my criticisms of The Dark Knight, but understand that, if anything, this shows just how much I love the film. I only notice this many flaws or ask these many questions if a film has impressed or affected me enough to get me thinking. Batman Begins and The Dark Knight are both fantastic movies. And as I said at the beginning, I'm not writing this out of some fanboy anger that people have the BALLS to like Dark Knight more than Batman Begins, just because it really bothers me how many people still have not seen this film. I'm working on that though. Batman Begins is on the list of films I am constantly promoting to people who haven't seen them (also known as Noah's "Movies I Never Shut The F*** Up About" List).

That being said, of course, Batman Begins is far from perfect itself.  The bit in the beginning with the ninjas does stretch itself a tad, and it's certainly a slower film as well.  Dark Knight is a lot more fast-paced and intense, and took the realism and grittiness of the franchise to new heights, painting the world of Batman in darker tones than ever before.  However, a lot of that intensity the film provides comes from the uncertainty of not knowing quite where the film is going to go next, with both the Joker and with the story in general (Rachel's death, for example, I did not see coming).  Erego, once you've already seen it and know what will happen, it loses a bit of its edge.  Things like the pencil trick drew a nervous laugh from me the first few times I saw it, but after the first 3 or 4 times it's just not as shocking.

Actually, on that note, while I like Batman Begins more in almost every way, there is one, single, glaring exception to this:  Rachel.  I do not like Katie Holmes.  I do not find her attractive in the slightest, and her acting in Batman Begins was unconvincing at best.  The absolute nadir of the entire film for me is the end, where she's talking about hoping there could be something between her and Bruce, and the look on her face is just flat-out dead (don't even get me started on the nipples shot).  Maggie Gyllenhaal is a better actress by leaps and bounds, making Rachel more serious and believable, plus she's a hell of a lot more attractive than little Miss Holmes.  But anyway.  That's really the one "bee in my bonnet" when it comes to Batman Begins.

In the end, of course, all of this is my opinion.   There are people who love both films, and people who love neither.  It's all good.  I don't care what your opinion is as long as you can explain it well.  And like I said at the beginning, if you see both films and still think Dark Knight is better, that's fine.  But if you haven't seen Batman Begins, do yourself a favor; hold off any declarations on Dark Knight being the greatest Batman film 'til you've seen them both.

Well, that's it for my rant on these two films (very good) films.  Please read, comment, and let me know your own thoughts on the franchise!  Full franchise review to follow!

-Judge Richard

Brave New Film

   Brave is the 13th feature length film from Pixar Animation Studios, and the first original film by the studio since the masterful Up left many of us in tears (literally) back in 2009, the last two films (Toy Story 3 and Cars 2, respectively) being sequels to earlier Pixar features.  Not only was it the first such film in several years to have an original storyboard, it was also the very first time that a Pixar film would feature a female protagonist, specifically a female protagonist struggling to overcome restrictive social constraints in a particular location and time in history when women were not exactly considered worthy of much attention etc. etc. etc. (in this case, the ancient Scottish highlands).  If this sounds like a standard Disney/Dreamworks trope to you, you’re not alone, because in most ways, the film is exactly that, and the trailers effectively reveal as much.    

    As such, it’s easy to understand why there seemed to be a lot of high expectations for the film.  Pixar, finally taking on the standard princess-and-castle fairytale archetypes Disney has dominated for decades?  Surely they’ll find some way to give it a fresh twist, make it something totally new!  It’s Pixar, and that means that every film they make has to elevate and redefine it’s given genre, right?  Right? 

   That, more or less, seems to have been the general expectation people had for this film, which is the only reason I can come up with for the particular type of criticism it’s been receiving.  Not that the film is bad, because it isn’t.  The animation for both the world and the people themselves ranks as some of Pixar’s best, firmly advancing Pixar’s reputation for technical perfection.  It’s a ton of fun to watch, has moments of genuine emotional and visual beauty, and is absolutely worth taking the time to see. 

    However, positive reactions to the film have been rather muted.  The film only holds a 74% percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes, significantly lower than ratings for The Incredibles, Toy Story, Wall-E, Up, and most of Pixar’s other features.  Many of my friends who saw it before I did said to me afterwards, “Yeah, it was good.  Just don’t expect a Pixar film.”  A comment that I found to be odd.  Why should it *not* be considered a Pixar film just because it doesn’t cause an artistic revolution?  People tolerate the Cars franchise well enough, and this film stands head and shoulders over both of those incidents put together.  Those were more or less my thoughts as I initially sat down to watch the movie. 

   Okay, I’m digressing.  I should probably go over the story now.  Brave opens with a montage of, honestly, some of the most beautiful animated landscapes I’ve ever seen (think Princess Mononoke), and a narrative voiced by a young scottish girl discussing the nature of fate.  We soon find out that the girl is Merida, the daughter of a Scottish King, Grupel (voiced by the indefatigable Billy Connelly), and his Queen Elinor, voiced by Emma Thompson.  It would also be remiss of me to not mention Merida's grown-up voice, done by Kelly MacDonald (from No Country For Old Men), giving way to her normal Scottish accent for a change.  After the opening montage, we see Merida as a little girl receiving her very first bow from her father as a birthday gift, which she promptly falls in love with (to the clear disapproval of her mother).  However, the party is soon interrupted by an attack by an immense bear, who Grupel fights to allow his family to escape. 

    The fight cuts away to the opening title shot, immediately followed by another montage/narration showing us pieces of Merida’s childhood in her castle in the faraway region of......something Scottish, I’m sure.  This establishes the major figures in her family, along with the core conflict of the film- her father is the gruff and rough yet warm-hearted and fun-loving fighter, her mother the upright (and a little uptight) authority figure in both the house and the kingdom, determined to turn her daughter into a shining example of ladylike virtue, and her three younger brothers are the reasons why Speedy Gonzalez and the Tasmanian Devil should never be allowed to mate. 

    Most of the scenes show her mother furiously trying to instill a sense of genteel queenliness in her daughter, and Merida’s voice tells us how much these efforts infuriate her.  The montage concludes with a scene depicting what is, ostensibly, Merida’s only real desire- hurtling out of the castle gates on the back of her faithful horse, brandishing her bow, with her astonishingly well-animated red hair streaming out behind her, hitting her favorite arrow targets with embarrassing accuracy, and climbing a cliff face alongside a stunning waterfall.  Set to a song that is *just* Nordic enough to avoid being mistaken for a Dreamworks cover, the scene is a visually stunning opening, bringing to mind thoughts of ancient castles, heady action, and adventure. 
   
    The entire first part of the film after this mostly follows this pattern.  We see Merida interacting with her family, her anger at having to choose one of the sons of the three clans to marry (one of which, to my delight, is named MacGuffin).  As part of a long-standing ritual, she must marry whichever of the sons can “prove their worth,” but, given that each of the three sons epitomize the highest levels of incompetence, the audience is compelled to share her disgust at the prospect. 

    The film is, in my opinion, strongest through this first part.  The ritual (centered around archery) ends with Merida stepping in and utterly humiliating each of the sons in turn (or at least the fathers- the sons seem rather indifferent to the whole affair).  Afterwards, Merida and her mother have a huge fight about the expectations for Merida as a princess and her anger and resistance to the idea that she has to conform to such old traditions.  The fight itself is another highlight of the film.  The voice acting in the entire film is top of the line, and the passionate emotions driving this scene in particular are bitterly palpable. 

    It’s after this, however, that the film takes several strange turns, and where the main issues with it begin.  It’s like the movie suddenly jumps from The Incredibles to Brother Bear, and does so with an almost audible thunk.  Due to a significant plot twist that I won’t spoil here, Merida and Elinor are forced to resolve their differences before a certain misunderstanding results in the destruction of both her family and the fragile peace between the clans.  This is more or less the focus of the remainder of the movie, but even this plot turn gets split up with the introduction of another side story: an ancient legend that may or may not have something to do with their own predicament.  Whether or not that is the case, though, is something that even the film itself seems uncertain about, as the story is thrown in and out of the film almost at random.   

    And that is, ultimately, the biggest problem with the film- it’s schizophrenic.  The film is solid and cohesive through the first 30-40 minutes, but once the major twist comes in to play, the atmosphere and tone of the film begins to shift back and forth dramatically.  Yes, the film continues to look great, all the major plot points are resolved (more or less), and it does end on a good, emotional high note, but by that point many people may feel a bit bewildered, like they aren’t really sure what they just saw. 

    I later found out that this film suffered from production issues unusual for Pixar films, with the production and writing team being almost completely replaced halfway through the making of the film.  A total of 5 different people are credited with writing and directing the film, and it shows.  It certainly explains why the whole product feels like several different films spliced together, and ultimately mutes the emotional impact the film does occasionally have. 

    Because of this, much of the criticism directed at Brave is justified.  As good as the animation and voice-acting is, the writing and direction simply isn’t tight enough to place it on par with Up or The Incredibles.  However, I could not disagree more with the notion that this makes Brave “less” of a Pixar film than the studio’s earlier works.  Saying that every Pixar film has to redefine the world of American animation to be good is like saying that every “good” Miyazaki film has to have the masterful depth of Princess Mononoke, or that every decent Scorcese film has to involve gangsters and gritty violence. 

    What Brave lacks in narrative cohesion it makes up for with the imagination, passion, and quirky eccentricity that are just as much hallmarks of Pixar’s works as their top-notch animation.  While perhaps not the best animated film I’ve seen this year (Arrietty still holds that title), it is fun, funny, and memorable, and I look forward to watching it again.  When it comes out on DVD. 

-Judge Richard