the caped crusader
In an age where the annual box office top-ten grossing film figures reads like a comic-book store’s best-sellers list, it is easy to understand the cynicism that underlines Alejandro González Iñárritu’s latest work, Birdman for, to paraphrase Tabatha Dickinson, the stars of these films are not actors, but celebrities. Such films are the industry’s equivalent of fast-food restaurants, churning out low-quality produce for top-dollar and leaving no breathing space for independent, thought-provoking cinema; the advancement of action sequences, seen as the key to the public’s heart, is aggressively pursued at the behest of all other cinematic virtues. Given the artistically-devoid bubble in which these dressed-up endorsements of CGI are conceived, it is easy to understand why Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, steeped in nuance and powerful imagery, has achieved such critical acclaim. Nolan successfully rejuvenated the comic-book genre, introducing Hollywood to a superhero that is not simply a one-dimensional arbiter of black-and-white justice, but one that occupies a morally grey area in an incredibly dark and sinister urban landscape. However, whilst on the one hand, Nolan appears to extinguish reductive dichotomisation from the genre, on the other, he continues this tradition, by succumbing to hegemonic definitions of people power consonant with a chaotic dystopia, whereby the rule of law is reduced to show trials and executions, and the streets are hostile and rife with crime. Such representations serve to corroborate the neoliberal insistence that ‘there is no alternative’ to the current capitalist order and, moreover, that any organisation, such as Occupy Wall Street, aimed at dismantling the system harbours totalitarian potential.
Having lost his parents to an act of senseless violence, Bruce Wayne is compelled to free Gotham from the tyranny of organised crime and systemic corruption and, in so doing, constructs Batman as an archetypal vigilante character. In Batman Begins, in addition to being confronted with run-of-the-mill comic-book villains, Batman is confronted by Ra’s Al Ghul, a figure of virtuous terror that insists that Gotham’s problems cannot be overcome by working within the constraints of the current order and that, therefore, Gotham must be destroyed so that, assumably, a fair and just society may rise from its ashes. Here, Nolan presents us with an alternative to the status-quo, in the form of an organisation that considers terror and violence as the most effective agents of change. We are presented with a choice: the preservation of the current order or complete annihilation and, thus, the survival of the system is inextricably linked to our own. We are strong-armed into supporting Batman’s attempt to uphold the status quo. The Dark Knight Rises is animated by the same ideological conflict. Again, Gotham’s institutions are threatened by a politically-motivated terrorist and, again, Batman fights to resist this change. Owing to his efforts to shut down Wall Street, Bane draws comparisons to the contemporary Occupy Wall Street movement (OWS). OWS is a non-violent, leaderless organisation committed to the overthrowing of state power through popular self-empowerment. Initially, Bane seems committed to a similar course of action:
“We take Gotham from the corrupt; the rich; the oppressors of generations who have kept you down with myths of opportunity. And we give it back to you, the people. Gotham is yours! None shall interfere. Do as you please”
Yet it soon becomes clear that Bane “stands for the mirror image of state terror, for a murderous fundamentalism that takes over and rules by fear” (Zizek, New Statesmen 2012) and so by encouraging comparisons between the two, Nolan is inviting the audience to associate OWS with terroristic methods and totalitarian intent and, furthermore, to view all progressive political movements in such a negative light. The audience is again forced into endorsing Batman and his attempt to preserve the pre-existing capitalist system as the alternative is a bleak urban existence, under constant threat of nuclear detonation, in an isolated city state ruled by violence and terror. (On reflection, that sounds a little bit like Thatcher à propos Britain during the Cold War) As with Batman Begins, The Dark Knight Rises presents an ultimatum; protect the current order or face total extinction because there simply is no alternative.
The notion that our welfare is synonymous with that of the prevailing socio-political order, that it is in everybody’s interest for the world to sell more new cars each year, that in order for us to stay safe from outside attack the government must eschew investment in healthcare so as to have a budget for nuclear armament, is simply not true. The media will espouse this ludicrous message because they are controlled by those that benefit most from the system’s continued existence, namely the CEOs of the world’s profit-driven, tax-avoiding corporations. This fact is even laid bare for all to see in the Batman films. For who is protecting the status-quo throughout the trilogy? Bruce Wayne, a multi-billionaire who made his money through the stock exchange and arms-dealing, an inconvenient truth that the story deals with by representing Wayne as a ‘good capitalist’ that gives to charity. Alternatives do exist and, as these wonderful films fail to mention, they do not all lead to the same path of violent 20th-century communism.
