Christopher Nolan has delivered in his final installment to the Dark Knight trilogy, and he does it with a solid, reflective narrative that – for the most part – avoids the faux philosophy that riddles The Dark Knight. As to prevent spoilers from creeping into this analysis, I’ll focus on the narrative’s arc that fittingly echoes moments within the first two films.
The Dark Knight Rises begins with a familiar heist scene that packs suspense and sadism within steady shots and plummeting planes. While The Dark Knight’s beginning lacks an aircraft, it’s replete with villains running the show as they abscond with something of value: money for the Joker, a doctor for Bane, this installment’s antagonist who is infamously known for breaking Batman’s back in the graphic novel. This trope here avoids cliche, intending to emphasize the intelligence of Batman’s inevitable foe. Moreover, Bane trumps the Joker to avoid becoming the stereotypical nut-job villain. Admittedly the Joker would not be the Joker if he were rational and collected; thus, he must be unpredictable and chaotic. However, anger broods within Bane as does meticulous foresight and a desire for revenge. The former villain’s modus operandi is often irrational and self-serving. Bane’s is philosophical and stems from a collective ideology – kind of like Jeremy Irons in Die Hard with a Vengeance.
Nolan does a fine job connecting the three films. While I feel The Dark Knight was meant as a bridge to The Dark Knight Rises, the latter film does not skyrocket off into nowhere. There is a design here, something that couldn’t be said for the X-Men trilogy, Spiderman, or Matrix trilogies. Here, Nolan makes the triad a circuit, reintroducing moments once conjured by Ra’s al Ghul in Batman Begins, once again positioning Gotham on the precipice of its own destruction. He also plays with the symbol of currency. Batman Begins established that commerce, capital, and the greed that accompanies them would result in blood-thirsty ravaging of one another. The Dark Knight posited that anyone could be on a payroll, including judges and police force, thus corroborating the first film’s warning but simultaneously prophesying its fruition if not for Batman’s interference. The third film exploits our hubris and our tendency to become complacent when we perceive that we are secure. Essentially, Nolan never left his narrative, instead carrying it throughout all three films. What’s strange is that Batman becomes an instrument of distraction, not necessarily prevention in any of the installments, something that, after viewing The Dark Knight Rises, I don’t think is lost on the director.
In a sense, it feels as if Nolan is making fun of the citizens who are looking for something to believe in. I don’t mean to suggest that he’s a nihilist foretelling our global demise, but he illustrates a persistently corrupt, callow, and pusillanimous society that cannot function without a caped and cowled vigilante. This is also not to suggest that he castigates the role of Batman, but that perhaps his narrative sides more with Catwoman’s (Anne Hathaway) assertion that “you don’t owe these people anything.” And, perhaps she’s right, and it seems that Batman is aware of his futility. His actions prolong repercussions, and The Dark Knight Rises illustrates that Bruce Wayne knows this, but I don’t want to give too much away.
That said, Nolan also does a fine job with his post-Harvey Dent death Batman – the man pegged with the former District Attorney’s murder. As The Dark Knight Rises begins, we are eight years removed (exactly, which I could have done without) from that night that Batman ran because we had to chase him, yet to be spotted again, and Wayne has become a recluse enshrouded in a Howard Hughes-like myth. In truth, his finger nails are trimmed, but he looks unkempt and walks with a limp, something that casts him, superficially, as the stereotypical villain. His goatee is scraggly, his shoulders askew with one reaching higher than the other, the cane as his side shifts the balance of his body, and he walks at a jagged angle, all at once making him look disoriented and emaciated as if Christian Bale were gearing up for a sequel to The Mechanic. Certainly, Wayne’s physical condition is to convey the depression he has steeped himself in since Rachel’s death in the third act of The Dark Knight, but it also reflects the public opinion of Batman-as-villain, Gotham’s Most Wanted.
Overall, the treasure of this film is its story, one that comments on the “myth of opportunity” and social mobility. Bane’s purpose is to flip the hierarchy on its head and spin the inverse pyramid until centripetal force catapults everyone into exile. Doing this requires fear and an equalizer that comes in the form of erasure. Without capital, everyone is just as savage as everyone else. To Nolan’s credit, the battle between the 1% and the 99% doesn’t run too deep into contemporary allegory, so watching The Dark Knight Rises isn’t like watching old CNN footage of Occupy Wall Street, but the financial dilemma within the film does question the referents of “good” and “evil.” Bane is the villain from the beginning because Bane is supposed to be a villain, though there are moments that you kind of have to buy into his ideology. The same can be said for al Ghul’s in Batman Begins, and its reoccurrence in this final film. I’m not championing for or advocating chaos, coups, and tyranny here, but The Dark Knight followed comic book mythology by demarcating a clear villain, The Joker, whereas Batman Begins and The Dark Knight Rises leave the identity of the true villain in the atmosphere, suggesting that most of them are not wearing masks, but ties, coats, high-heeled shoes, and mascara – perhaps all at the same time, perhaps not.
Maybe the most important scene in the film – at least to the overall theme of the trilogy – is one found in the preview: Hines Ward of the Gotham Rogues returns a kickoff for a touchdown as the field turf behind him collapses into the recesses of the city. While a great attention-grabber in the trailer, its poignancy is stellar. Overcome with his own satisfaction, Ward is oblivious to the destruction in his wake, much like those complacent citizens basking in the illusion of safety as they continue to consume. What’s more, Nolan ironizes this scene by transferring the gladiatorial nature of football watching onto the crowd itself. Essentially, the importance of the teams is obviated, and each fan’s goal becomes survival, whether it comes against a fellow fan or a stranger from out of town.
I can’t write too much more without providing spoilers, so I won’t. I’ll finish this off by suggesting that The Dark Knight Rises is a fitting end to a trilogy and better than its prequel. Both are good. This one is better.
