I saw this film again at a 1:20 AM showing in IMAX on an impulse. I was bored out of my fucking skull and the best part about summer blockbusters is that it gives film loving insomniacs like myself something to see after 1AM when all the DVDs are worn down to the wick.
And I noticed some things I hadn’t caught before–like the extra 35mm of frame which was, at times, a little odd since they did all of the flyover shots in IMAX format and only some of the action sequences in the format so there was a lot of popping between formats. Moreso than they let on when they say “we did six major scenes in the format.” They really meant six major scenes and a shitload of filler.
The format, however, is not what this corollary is about.
This is about the film and how much of a joke it is. And I mean this without a pun intended, though Heath Ledger is much to blame for the joke that this film contains.
Because it’s not necessarily the film as a whole that is a joke–the performances are excellent, the cinematography and action pieces are brilliant, stark and exciting–instead, the joke is within the film, subtle.
The joke is on us. Which is why this movie will most likely end up being one of the highest grossing films of all times.
When I said that Heath Ledger was to blame, I meant it in the way that his performance has about a layer and a half. Enough of a performance for one viewing, but not enough subtlety or facial expression for a second. This is probably because he talks so goddam much. He monologues like it’s going out of style.
He’s not the only one to blame, though: there are many moments in the film where characters state heavy-handed maxims on the state of Gotham City (the banker at the beginning of the film, Christian Bale at least once, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart). Multiple times we’re reminded about the night being darkest before the dawn, and about how some criminals just want to watch the world burn.
Essentially, we are left with a film that tries hard enough for people to think they’re gaining more upon a second viewing even though there’s really nothing more.
Why is there really nothing more? Because it’s a huge fucking movie.
So maybe this will become a new business model to create repeat viewings in the theater–to have performers insinuate a little more to encourage someone to see the movie again, but not insinuate so much that the viewer is left confused.
And the best part of the IMAX format was watching the giant action piece with Eckhart in the truck and the flipping semi-truck we saw in the trailers. That scene was absolutely fascinating in the format. The screen is so large, the images so crisp, that you are drawn completely into the scenes. If the equipment wasn’t so ridiculously clunky, this could very well be the future of cinema. Hopefully it is because I really don’t want to see too much digital filmmaking in theaters–and this is coming from someone who plans on being a digital film maker. The format has a certain glint, a certain gloss, that makes everything feel a little off. But with IMAX, everything is just stupid-huge.
So I must apologize that I’m apostatizing from the #1 film on the IMDB top 250 (seriously. All the retards over there think that it’s better every other movie ever fucking made), but, seriously. This movie isn’t all that great. It’s just a juggernaut that wants you to think it is.