Cap'n Howdy's Best of 2013: American Hustle

 Somehow over the course of a month the Cap'n went from being in the majority to the minority with respect to American Hustle. At the time American Hustle was released, the critical consensus was high on the film, audiences were looking forward to seeing it, and things looked good for David O. Russell (I Heart Huckabees, Three Kings)'s follow-up to Silver Linings Playbook. I saw it, really enjoyed it, and wanted to spread that enthusiasm, only to discover that friends of mine who I thought would also dig the movie... didn't. And then the internet backlash started.

 Now American Hustle is, from what I've been reading an watching, a mess; it's a case of actors doing whatever they want with no clear direction to corral them and a director who clearly doesn't care about the story being told and it's just meh. Totally overrated. Now, if it was just the internet, I could understand that, because if there's something you like, spend five minutes online and you'll find hundreds of people vociferously arguing why it's the "worst thing ever" in forums and comments or on blogs (like this one - I bet someone out there who loves Lockout can't understand why I thought it was the worst movie of 2012). The internet is a place where everybody gets a voice whether anyone wants to hear it or not (Blogorum - case in point), so that's fine, they hate American Hustle.

 My friends were a bit more puzzling, and it wasn't so much that they hated it, but that they were underwhelmed. Maybe it was expectations for a new David O. Russell film, which usually sets the bar pretty high, or for the cast (which is impressive), but it didn't do it for them. I understand that, because I felt like Silver Linings Playbook was a thoroughly average movie that was nice to watch and amusing but in no way deserving of all the attention it got during Awards Season. In fact, I'd mostly forgotten about Silver Linings Playbook until after I watched American Hustle.

 So American Hustle still makes the cut in the "Best Of" because while I was watching the film I enjoyed it tremendously, but it's an outlier. It's on the edges, although not because of anything in the first three paragraphs. No, American Hustle gets bumped a bit because of the director and type of movie Russell is paying homage to, and only because the director in question also made a movie this year and it's that much better. Still, I'm going to stick up for American Hustle, because I disagree with much of the criticism thrown its way, and I think the internet is willingly overlooking what a clever, amusing ride the film is.

 Unlike The Butler or Dallas Buyers Club or Saving Mr. Banks, American Hustle doesn't mess around with the "Inspired By a True Story" schtick we've been seeing a lot of in 2013. It is based on real events, although not strictly speaking, and the title card at the beginning makes it clear that some of the movie really happened. Not all of it, but mostly the catching a politician in a sting operation in New Jersey part. Although it would have been pretty cool if the person who caught him had the terrible comb-over / wig combo that Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) is rocking.

 American Hustle opens with a long, dialogue-free section while Rosenfeld is putting on his wig and adjusting his hair to make it look real, which it doesn't. It never looks real, and while it's kind of pathetic, it's a visual indicator of the underlying theme of American Hustle: everybody is lying. Coming into the film, I was taking the "hustle" part seriously, and rightfully assuming it meant that the film was a "con artist" movie, so I'm watching it for the con. Everybody in this movie is lying (well, almost everybody, and I'll get to the exceptions shortly) and the fun, for me, was figuring out the angle: who was lying to who about what and when.

 Rosenfeld is preparing for a sting with Lady Edith Greensly (Amy Adams) and Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper), and thanks to some undercover cameras, we know it's 1978. They're already bickering and Irving doesn't trust Richie and somebody's hairpiece gets messed up. I'll let you figure out who that might be. In Goodfellas fashion, we then jump back to Irving's life as a child, helping his father improve business as a window repairman by throwing rocks in strategic directions, if you catch my drift. Irving meets Edith, who isn't actually Lady Edith Greensly, or even British, but in fact is Sydney Prosser, a former burlesque dancer who moved to New York and got a clerical job at Cosmopolitan, but that's not really her calling either. Sydney and Irving bond over Duke Ellington at a party and he gives her free clothes from the laundromat he owns. Also, Irving suggests she joins him in scamming people out of money with fake loans, but Sydney leaves. Irving thinks he screwed up, but she comes back in with a British accent and introduces herself as Lady Edith. Con artists in love.

 So how does Richie fit into this? Well, he's an FBI agent that busts London Associates during one of their loan scams and decides to cut them both a deal: help him bust four bigger fish in the pond and he'll let them go. Richie immediately has eyes for who he thinks is Lady Edith, despite the fact that he has a fiance who lives with him at his mother's house. Also, he wears curlers at night to give him a perm, of sorts. Oh, did I mention that Irving is already married? Yep, he has a wife, Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence) and has adopted her son Danny (Danny and Sonny Corbo), and Sydney knows about this but doesn't really care. Rosalyn knows, and probably cares, but is also kind of crazy and hates it when people tell her what to do. She's a liability, as we'll see later in the film, but Irving loves Danny and doesn't want to lose him, so he sticks with her.

 So, I mentioned earlier that there are three genuine characters in American Hustle, and one of them is DiMaso's first target: Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner). Instead of being a corrupt politician willing to take a crooked deal from a Hispanic FBI Agent posing as an Arab Sheik (Michael Peña), Polito genuinely believes that this investment in Atlantic City casinos will help bring jobs back to the community. And the community already loves him. Moreover, in a moment that confuses Irving, Carmine becomes friends with Rosenfeld, takes him out to dinner with his wife, and gives him a microwave, not as some kickback but as a sincere gift for helping him help the community. Irving thinks it's an angle, but it's not, and the scene is rather touching, because in a world of con men, Rosenfeld never had a real friend.

 The other genuine characters are DiMaso's supervisor, Stoddard Thorsen (Louis C.K.), who is stuck between Richie asking for ridiculous things like two million dollars, the entire floor of a hotel, and a jet, and his boss Anthony Amado (Alessandro Nivola), a middle of the chain guy who wants to make a name for himself. Thorsen is just trying to do right by the agency and is repeatedly punished for it, while Richie tries to guess the moral of an ice fishing story that Stoddard never finished telling. The last character, I'll leave as a surprise, but it involves the mob and was really nice to see this actor as imposing again. It's been a long time and gives me hope that we might see more of it in the future.

 Things naturally spiral out of control because Richie overestimates his ability to con people, to Irving's annoyance, but Lady Edith is also working him over (or is she working over Rosenfeld?). Meanwhile, Rosalyn can't be bothered to follow the instructions not to put metal into the "science oven" and sets something else in the house on fire. It gets messier when Carmine insists that Irving bring Rosalyn, and not Edith, to dinner and then to a party with members of the mob in attendance, and before you know it everybody is in way over their heads.

 I think I can understand the "actors gone wild" position, even if I don't agree with it. The story isn't meant to be taken on its own terms, because movies about con artists are their own particular beast. Yes, everybody has crazy hair and Amy Adams is using a British accent and only Jeremy Renner and Louis C.K. seem the least bit reserved, but that's because they're playing roles. The three main characters in American Hustle are constantly shifting because they need to convince someone to trust them, so yes there's inconsistency in the performances. I don't think that's simply a case of David O. Russell letting the actors improvise and never reigning them in. Maybe the gaudy 70s clothes and disco music are also helping this argument persist? I'm not sure, but at any rate, I see the performances as part and parcel of the story, not existing in place of one.

 On the other side, while I enjoyed Jennifer Lawrence's train wreck that is Rosalyn Rosenfeld, she's much too young to be playing that character. It's never more evident than in scenes with Bale and Lawrence together, where he seems to be the right age and she seems even younger than she's playing. On the other hand, the microwave scene is pretty funny. Renner and Louis C.K. underplaying actually helps as a counterbalance to the outlandish Bale and Cooper, and Amy Adams is a force to be reckoned with in this movie. Even as people complain about American Hustle being overrated, the exception is always Adams' performance, with good reason. She's electric in every scene in the movie, and when Sydney comes clean to Richie that Edith doesn't exist, it's a powerful scene for both actors.

 Does the Goodfellas / Casino multiple-narration, doubling backwards and forwards on itself help American Hustle? Well, David O. Russell's take on a Martin Scorsese movie definitely isn't going to compare well to an actual Martin Scorsese movie (as we'll see in a little while), but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and taken on its own, American Hustle uses the structure well. I think it's probably right that it shouldn't get the kind of Awards Season attention that it's getting already, but considering the backlash directed at Jordan Belfort and The Wolf of Wall Street, American Hustle might be seen as a "safer" alternative for voters. I don't know. I enjoyed every moment of American Hustle while I was watching it, and in retrospect it's maybe slipped down the list a few tics, but that's only because I saw a few movies that I liked more. And we'll be getting to those very soon. Stay tuned.

Blogorium Review: Bronson

 Bronson is not the fictionalized story of Charles Bronson, just to get that out of the way. I know that many of you saw the cover (as I did) and thought (as I did not) "I don't remember Charles Bronson being bald or having a curly moustache. I mean, I guess he was tough but this guy looks like he could be Bane from Batman, for crying out loud," or something to that effect. That's a fair reaction, so just so you know, this is not a biopic about The Great Escape or Death Wish any more than the Jason Statham The Mechanic is a faithful remake of The Mechanic and not just a Jason Statham movie with a title you might maybe recognize.

 It is, however, the fictionalized story of Charles Bronson (née Michael Peterson), who has the distinction of being "Britain's Most Violent Prisoner." As the movie (and the back of the DVD / Blu-Ray) tells us, he has "34 Years in Prison, 30 in Solitary Confinement," with the exception of the 69 days he was not in prison which was when he began bare knuckle boxing under the name "Charles Bronson." Bronson is quick to inform us that he's never killed anyone, although he really likes to get in fights, hold people hostage, and cover himself in grease, paint, or feces before fighting prison officials. All because he held up a post office (and then later stole a ring).

 This might be confusing because I swear early in the film that one of the prison officials calls him "Charlie" when he's supposed to be sewing. That would be some time in the 1970s (between 1974, hen he's sent to prison, and when he's sent to an insane asylum), well before he chooses the name "Charles Bronson" which we see happen later in the film. At first I was taken aback but then realized that in a movie that exists in such a heightened state of "reality" that everything we're seeing only exists as Bronson sees it.

 You'd think the parts where he's on a theatre stage addressing an audience while wearing a tuxedo and face paint would be a dead giveaway of that, but I made the mistake of taking some of the flashbacks at face value. My mistake.

 Anyway, so most of the film is designed to be expressionistic or at the very least to not reflect any reality you or I could point to, although it does seem like the real Charles Bronson (not Mr. Majestyk) does actually have the reputation of doing these ridiculous things. There's a moment when he's explaining one of the mental facilities they sent him to before he was released and what happened there, and instead of recreating it he just stands in front of a screen showing (what I assume to be) actual news footage of the riot he caused. Some times the real thing is more effective than trying to re-enact it.

 That said, I don't know how successful Nicholas Winding Refn and Tom Hardy are in conveying this to the audience. A lot of my friends hate Drive (I do not) and if you don't like that then you're really not going to like Bronson. It's way more self consciously "art-y" and has the same affinity for synth-heavy music (example: we learn that it's the 1980s in the movie when the inmates of the asylum are dancing to The Pet Shop Boys' "It's a Sin").

 I liked much of what Refn did visually with the film and I thought Tom Hardy was charismatic and creepy and sometimes very awkward as Charles Bronson / Michael Peterson. There's a section of the film where he goes all "Bruce Willis in 12 Monkeys" in the asylum, drooling and shuffling around and generally not accomplishing his goal of "building an empire." I believe Hardy as Bronson when he says prison was his calling and that he believes it's his way of making a name for himself (I mean, they made a movie about him and not about the guy from Death Wish) and it once again steps Tom Hardy away from being Jean-Luc Picard's wimpy clone and towards being a guy who could break Christian Bale in half.

 Maybe the problem is that Refn and co-screenwriter Brock Norman Brock don't ever convey that Charles Bronson is actually having the impact he wants to have. Part of this is that we rarely ever see other prisoners when he's in jail (and while he's in solitary for 30 years, he spends plenty of time outside of his cell) and because it's only the world as Bronson sees it, so there's no stepping back and seeing his actual impact on Britain or anything else that merits what we're told ABOUT Charles Bronson. The mistake they make is only showing us Charles Bronson through his eyes and not the eyes of others, with two exceptions near the end that don't bolster his case.

 One is the Prison Governor(Johnny Phillips) who tells Bronson he's "pathetic" after the whole "building an empire" spiel, and the other Bronson's art teacher (James Lance), who sees his paintings as a way to make himself famous for "discovering" this imprisoned artist. Bronson thanks him by holding him hostage and painting on his face, then he demands the Governor play music while Charlie strips down, paints himself black, and prepares to fight a losing battle with the guards. I like that Bronson holds hostages even though he doesn't seem to want anything, but neither of these perspectives seem to reinforce what Charles Bronson wants his legacy to be. The real Charles Bronson at least popularized the "sock full of quarters" method of beatings as a viable form of revenge.

 So yeah, I guess there are things I liked about Bronson, especially Tom Hardy, but also the movie doesn't quite do its subject justice, or at least adequately convey why it is that Charles Bronson deserves the reputation he has. It gives some anecdotal evidence but I think ultimately I'd have to overturn this verdict and say that the movie version of Michael Peterson is not deserving of the moniker Charles Bronson. I think the real Charles Bronson would agree, even from the grave, where I would still assume he could film Death Wish 6, if he desired. Still, Bronson is worth renting or watching streaming on Netflix. Unless you don't like Drive. If you don't like Drive then maybe you should watch Once Upon a Time in the West. That's on streaming, too.

Four Questions Raised by The Dark Knight Rises (and why they don't really matter)

 IMPORTANT SPOILER NOTE: This entire piece is predicated on readers having seen The Dark Knight Rises, because it spoils practically all the major plot points including twists involving characters and the end of the film. If you've seen the film or have no desire to see The Dark Knight Rises but are curious, please continue. If you haven't seen the film and plan to, please wait. I'll still be here when you get back.

 I was not aware that as a member of the online reviewing community that I was supposed to hate Christopher Nolan and everything he makes. Whoops. As someone who enjoyed Following, Memento, Batman Begins, The Prestige, The Dark Knight, and Inception (only Insomnia doesn't really do anything for me), I guess I failed the "Christopher Nolan is overrated and he's a sloppy filmmaker and I hate him and he sucks and people who like him are slobbering fanboys etc" demographic. My bad guys, I didn't get the memo.

 From the negative reviews of The Dark Knight Rises, I can tell that people who didn't like the movie REALLY didn't like it, but I have to say that I once again disagree with you. I don't think it's a consistent a film as The Dark Knight, but I found it engaging, emotionally fulfilling, and a fitting closer to Nolan's version of Batman. Whether or not it reflects your particular interpretation of what Batman should be, I think that the film succeeds in closing the larger story Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, and David Goyer were trying to tell using Bruce Wayne.

  That said, I can understand that some of the negative reactions to The Dark Knight Rises (and Christopher Nolan's filmmaking style in general) are based in legitimate complaints about logic lapses, continuity gaffes, and plot holes. I totally get why people are pulling their hair out that the majority of audiences don't seem bothered by these problems when they could (and should) derail most movies. Rather than providing an expanded thesis for why it doesn't matter to The Dark Knight Rises, my central argument is this: certain logical inconsistencies are forgivable in a film that succeeds thematically and emotionally. Also, I'm going to point you in the direction of Red Letter Media's Half in the Bag. Their review of the film succinctly covers why The Dark Knight Rises overcomes normally crippling problems, even if I get why many online critics can't abide by that.

 So here are four perfectly fair questions raised by scenes in The Dark Knight Rises that don't have answers to speak of, and why most people never even think twice about them. I'm going to try to explain what the problems are resulting from the questions, how the film doesn't acknowledge them, and why they are ultimately irrelevant to the success of The Dark Knight Rises. They aren't the only issues that could be raised, but they are four tied directly to the way Nolan constructs the story I imagine infuriates some viewers.

 1. Why does the chase scene following the Stock Exchange hostage crisis turn from day to night in eight minutes?

 The Problem: So Bane and his mercenaries attack the New York Gotham City Stock Exchange* and initiate a program using Bruce Wayne's fingerprints to make a series of bad trades, bankrupting Wayne Enterprises. As the police surround the stock exchange, it's clearly daylight outside, and at best could be argued to be dusk. Unless Gotham's stock exchange closes later than the New York Stock Exchange (4pm) or the sun sets earlier in October (identified during the Gotham Knights football game that happens shortly thereafter), it's hard to argue that Gotham City went from daylight to pitch black in the 8 minutes it takes to run the program executing the trades.

 Why It Doesn't Matter: Nolan gets away with this lapse in continuity and editing because most of the chase scene between the police and motorcyclists happens in a tunnel, thus allowing Batman to sneak up on the cyclists with the Batpod using his power shortage device introduced earlier in the film. In fact, two policemen (a veteran and a rookie) are surprised that the lights go out, and the older cop sees Batman and tells his partner, "Son, you're in for a show tonight!"

 Because Batman is so associated with darkness and the subsequent GCPD police chase of Batman (allowing Bane to escape) is more dynamic at night than in daylight, it's acceptable in visual terms to cheat the sunset during the tunnel sequence so that when Batman emerges from the other side, the news footage Selina Kyle and Jim Gordon see (separately) is at night. The image of the lone Batpod on the highway pursued by red and blue lights is a more lasting image.

 The sequence culminates with Batman appearing to be trapped in a dark tunnel downtown, where acting Commissioner Foley and John Blake believe they have him trapped. The dark alleyway disguises the Bat, Wayne's new vehicle, allowing for the surprise reveal that transitions from the chase to Batman's rescue of Selina Kyle from Daggett's thugs (including Bane). So the transitional lapse, while noticeable, is forgivable because it provides a more dynamic and exciting chase sequence in short order.

 2. Why does Bane drop everything he's doing in the midst of an elaborate plan to ruin Gotham city to fly halfway around the world to drop Bruce Wayne in the prison he grew up in?

 The Problem: After Bane cracks Batman's mask, breaks his back, and then walks away, Selina Kyle leaves the sewers and the camera fades to black. It fades in on Blake seeing Kyle try to skip town and he catches her at the airport. After unsuccessfully trying to convince her the police could protect her from Bane, Blake admits he was looking for Bruce Wayne, and when he asks if Bane killed him, Selina responds "I'm not sure."

 The film then cuts to a series of images, partially blurred, of someone being carried over rocks in harsh sunlight, before Bruce Wayne wakes up in a prison cell with Bane leaning over him. Bane informs Wayne that he is "home" and that Bruce will suffer here, watching the mercenary manipulate Gotham City into destroying itself before he finishes Ra's al Ghul's mission from Batman Begins. But was it worth the effort to abandon overseeing the construction projects in the sewers to fly from Gotham City to India (where location shooting for the prison took place) just to drop off Bruce Wayne next to a TV screen? It's implied he's paying two of the prison elders (one of which is the doctor responsible for Bane wearing a mask) to keep Wayne alive, but was the effort necessary?

 Why It Doesn't Matter: Taking Wayne to the prison in the middle of a dastardly master plan seems like an impossible task, until you remember that before Wayne entered the sewers with Selina Kyle, Miranda Tate suggested they could "take my plane and fly anywhere," which Bruce replies to by saying "not tonight." That explains how Bane smuggled Bruce Wayne out of Gotham City and flew across the country. They "how" is less important than the "why" - Bane's punishment of Wayne is "more severe" because it mirrors his own exile, his own sense of loss and being unable to protect the people most important to him.

 It also removes Bruce Wayne completely from his comfort zone: not only has he been wiped out financially and lost Alfred's support (and presence), but now he finds himself physically incapacitated and spiritually broken. It also thematically ties into the opening of Batman Begins, where Bruce Wayne is introduced in another foreign prison, that time by choice. He was figuratively "rescued" from that "hell" by Ra's al Ghul, who invites him to the League of Shadows, so being exiled to another kind of "hell" by someone excommunicated by the League is dramatically appropriate. His ultimate escape from the hole is the final transformative act that brings Batman to the point where he's capable of overcoming Bane, so while it functions as a lapse in story structure, thematically the sidestep is appropriate and necessary to live up to the title The Dark Knight Rises.

 3. How does Bruce Wayne climb out of the prison well, and more importantly, how does a man with no money and no contacts get back into a heavily patrolled city with one entrance and frozen waterways without being noticed?

 The Problem: It's established early in The Dark Knight Rises that Bruce Wayne has been physically incapacitated from his activity in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. A visit to a doctor in Gotham Central Hospital (played by Reno 911's Thomas Lennon) ends with the information that Wayne has no cartilage in his knees, lingering shoulder damage, scar tissue, and minor brain damage from repeated concussions. The doctor indicates that he "cannot clear you to go Heli-skiing" before Wayne sneaks off to visit the injured Gordon. Wayne has to put on a knee brace that allows him to use his left leg without a cane, but there's not reason to believe that after Bane broke his back that they did not also remove the brace while stripping Wayne out of the batsuit.

 So you have Bruce Wayne with a protruding vertebrae, two knees without cartilage, and whatever additional damage from his fight with Bane (a visible opening on his forehead, broken nose, and bleeding lip), lying on his back in a prison at the bottom of a massive hole. The only way out is to climb up to a small walkway and then leap to another stone. If you miss, the rope holding you up does further damage to your back, not to mention the force with which you crash into the walls of the opening.

 After Wayne's back is adjusted - which I'm going to overlook to avoid making this section even longer, but let's say that it's dubious at best - and he hangs by rope for a week or so (long enough to go from five-o'clock shadow to scraggly beard) until he can walk, he immediately tries to scale the exit and fails. So he begins an intense exercise regiment, tries again, and fails. Only the third time, after he chooses to "fear death" and not use the rope, does he succeed. But how does a man with no cartilage in his knees pull off a combination of advanced rock climbing and leaping to escape?

 Moreover, when he escapes, how does he get from India (?) to Gotham City when it's been established he has no money and all of his friends are trapped under Bane's thumb. Furthermore, how does he even get INTO Gotham City when we only see one FEMA truck cross the bridge during the four months Wayne is imprisoned and there's no way to cross by water as the river is frozen over. It's established how difficult to cross the ice because Gotham citizens who choose "exile" over "death" in court (presided by the Scarecrow) are forced to venture out and face falling into the freezing waters. So the idea Wayne could cross that way is even more remote, yet he shows up to talk to Selina Kyle 23 hours before the nuclear bomb is about to detonate.

 Why It Doesn't Matter: This seems like an insurmountable problem, but the truth of the matter is that none of this is relevant to the narrative or the themes of The Dark Knight Rises. Escaping from the hole in the ground is a continuation of the "well" leitmotif from Batman Begins (complete with a flashback / dream of Thomas Wayne being lowered down to help young Bruce and asking "why do we fall?") and ties into to the title. Again, this is a film about the Dark Knight Rising, so it's emotionally satisfying to see Bruce Wayne save himself from his failure, even if the final moment before his leap includes a silly appearance by frightened bats swirling around him. Sure, he shouldn't be able to do it, but he does, and we as an audience cheer for the hero to overcome his lowest possible point.

 As to the "how" of Wayne getting back to Gotham City, I hate to say it, but it's not important. It's that he gets back, that he's able to forgive Selina and ask for her help, and that despite having the opportunity to escape, he returns to save his city from Bane. His appearance justifies the statement that he hasn't given Gotham "everything", "not yet." The logic of how he got there isn't as important thematically as being there, as being willing to sacrifice everything - including his own life - to protect the people of Gotham City.

 4. If Lucius Fox had more than one "Bat", then why didn't Bane find it while pillaging the Applied Sciences armory and use it against Batman when he returned?

 The Problem: So when Lucius Fox introduces the "Bat" to Bruce Wayne early in the film, he indicates that "yes, Mr. Wayne, it does come in black" and mentions that the auto-pilot doesn't work. He asks Bruce to work on the auto-pilot, and it becomes a running joke / plot point that it doesn't work, necessitating Batman to fly the bomb over the harbor and (presumably) being killed because he can't eject.

 But wait! At the end of the film, not only is there another "Bat" in the Applied Sciences armory - meaning that Fox didn't just paint the prototype black - and Fox is asking about what he could have done to fix the auto-pilot. So if there was another "Bat" in the armory, the same armory that Bane broke into and used to his own advantage throughout his occupation of Gotham City, how is it that no one ever found the other "Bat"? One can't even argue that they found it but couldn't fly it, because none of Bane's mercenaries would know how to use the Tumbler initially either (clearly they didn't know their Tumblers had Batpods or they might have used them in the final chase scene). Having another "Bat" would have removed Batman's aerial advantage and seriously complicated the final battle, so it might have benefited Bane to look a little harder.

 Why It Doesn't Matter:  Bane didn't find the second "Bat" because... well, I don't know. The psychological advantage of Batman having "superior air power" provides the audience two moments to be thrilled: 1) when Batman frees the GCPD from the sewers using the "Bat" and 2) when the "Bat" deactivates the cannon on a Tumbler as the GCPD are advancing on Town Hall, where Bane and the Blackgate inmates are waiting for a massive showdown. It also allows for the "Bat" to escape from missiles in a manner not dissimilar to Iron Man in The Avengers.Two "Bat"s would necessarily complicate the final chase scene, would remove Bane from his element as a ground-based brawler (who else would fly it?) and would be less interesting in the "beat the clock" detonation finale.

  Now, why introduce a second "Bat" at all?

 Okay, this is a bit trickier, because the reveal of the second "Bat" is tied into the final "twist" in The Dark Knight Rises. The scene only exists because we the audience need to know that Bruce Wayne DID fix the auto-pilot and therefore could have ejected before the bomb went off (despite the suggestive editing that made it look like he didn't). That way Bruce could theoretically have survived, replaced the Bat signal, amended his will so that Blake found the Bat-Cave, and the mansion would be a children's home (thematic tie-in to the beginning of the film). It holds up logically about as much as Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle finding the exact cafe that Alfred went to in Italy and sitting at exactly the right table so that they would see each other. It's a dramatic device used entirely for the benefit of the audience, not for the internal logic of the film.

 I hope this helps explain why The Dark Knight Rises manages

 * This is a minor point, but it does speak to things that drive Nolan detractors crazy: no one in the production of The Dark Knight Rises makes any effort to disguise landmarks associated with New York City and Pittsburgh, PA, where filming partially took place. The Broad Street subway tunnel entrance is visible in a number of shots prior to and following the motorcycle escape by Bane, and the Saks Fifth Avenue is also on prominent display during the truck chase during the climax of the film. Meanwhile, no change was made to the sign on Heinz Field (digitally or otherwise), where the Pittsburgh Steelers play. The Steelers and former coach Bill Cowher appear as the Gotham Knights, and it's easy to pick out Ben Rothlisberger and other players during the National Anthem. Hines Ward appears to be playing himself during the kick-off return, as the name on his jersey hasn't changed. I guess it's possible that the crew thought comic book fans also didn't watch football, but this is an odd lapse of suspension of disbelief.

Retro Review (Part One): Batman Begins

 As some of you may know, the final chapter of Christopher Nolan's "Batman" trilogy comes to a close this Friday with The Dark Knight Rises, and in the spirit of pre-gaming I decided to watch Batman Begins and The Dark Knight again this past weekend. If each part is a stand-alone entry in a larger story, it makes sense to take a look at the first and second chapters again. That way, I can walk into The Dark Knight Rises with plot points and small moments fresh in my mind. After all, if we are to believe the hype, Nolan has tied all of the films together with his third entry.

 I had actually seen The Dark Knight more recently than Batman Begins (quite a few times more recently) so I thought I'd focus on the first film today, a movie that I enjoyed with a few caveats. At the time it did wonders to erase the memory of Bat-nipples and "ice" related punnery, but I can't quite go so far as to say that Batman Begins was a total success. I gather you've seen the film by now (it's been seven years and if you're even considering watching The Dark Knight Rises this weekend, I strongly urge you to) so rather than deal with a plot synopsis, I'm going to jump right into what I think works, what I think doesn't necessarily work, and some adjustments to my reaction after seeing it again two nights ago.

 First, let's look at what works:

 - Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne
 - Treating Batman like the monster in a horror movie for his first outing.
 - The supporting cast (including Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, Rutger Hauer, Mark Boone Junior, and yes, Katie Holmes)
 - Keeping the villains (mostly) simple: mobster Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) and Jonathan Crane / The Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy) with limited use of Ra's al Ghul (Liam Neeson).
 - In general, the idea that most of the film is grounded in reality, including how Wayne gets his "wonderful toys."
 - The chase scene between the police and the Tumbler (which is admittedly surpassed in The Dark Knight using similar geography).
 - Keeping the retelling of the "origin story" short and to the point, and extra points for Joe Chill (Richard Brake) killing the Waynes (Linus Roache and Sara Stewart) instead of  Jack Napier / the Joker (I'm looking at you, Tim Burton!).
 - How little Batman figures into the first half of the film, and when he does, how Wayne uses each outing to improve his skills.
 - The hallucinations resulting from Scarecrow's toxin, especially when we see Batman through Crane's drugged vision.

 What doesn't work so well:

 - Ra's al Ghul's ultimate plan, which is of a James Bond villain caliber, complete with a super gadget, speeding train, and exposition spouting guy at waterworks who tells us the same things Gordon, Batman, and Ghul have already said.
 - The cowl for Batman just looks clunky. Sure, they address this in The Dark Knight, but this isn't The Dark Knight, so I have to dock it points for the suit being cumbersome.
 - The fight scenes are a little "meh" and not always easy to follow, from the opening Chinese prison fight to the League of Shadows ninja battle to Batman's final showdown with Ra's.
 - As much as I like Liam Neeson as Ducard / Ra's, it might have been more effective to keep "week one" of Batman's tenure devoted to Crane and Falcone. If you really needed to add someone else, Mr. Zsaz is already in the film but mostly underused.
 - When Ra's arrives, Gotham begins to look less like a real city and things turn into "movie" reality, where the train fight looks like a soundstage and so do all the streets it passes over. It's a shift from what made the film so interesting to the typical "comic book movie" showdown.
 - Setting everybody in Arkham free in the "Narrows" turns out to be basically a wasted opportunity, as the film quickly shifts Gordon and Batman back to mainland Gotham as they race to Wayne Tower.
 - Similarly, Rachel Dawes' arc as a prosecutor ends up being much ado about nothing, as all of the setup in her building a case around Falcone and Crane disappears so that Batman can save her three times. She doesn't even do much in the chaotic prison break, other than protect a little boy (future Joffrey Baratheon Jack Gleeson) and taser (taze?) Scarecrow.

 What I didn't mind so much this time:

 - Really, it's just Bale's Batman "voice," which is kind of a Clint Eastwood growl. It used to bother me and sometimes make me laugh but to be honest with you, I don't mind it distinguishing Bruce Wayne from Batman. That he doesn't use it consistently is still a peeve, but otherwise it didn't bug me.
 - I mentioned Jack Gleeson, now famous for Game of Thrones, as appearing in the film, something I didn't realize until I put Batman Begins on again. It's not a big part, but he does appear in the middle of the film and then again during the climax.
 - In light of where it goes in The Dark Knight, I no longer mind the sequel-baiting "Joker" scene that closes the film, and the discussion between Gordon and Batman about escalation really sets the stage for the next film.
 - This is total speculation, but I suspect that The Dark Knight Rises will have a lot more in common with Batman Begins than The Dark Knight, especially with early reviews citing Ra's al Ghul as an inspiration for Bane (Tom Hardy)'s master plan. Also, it drives the "full circle" concept home more than simply continuing the post-Harvey Dent saga.

 Okay, so Batman Begins is pretty much the way I remember it: a mostly good film with touches of great that I enjoyed a whole lot in 2005 and still dig today. I think its flaws are more evident than The Dark Knight's, a review I'll get to on Thursday, heading into the weekend of the Batman. In the Nolan filmography, I'd have to put Batman Begins before Insomnia but after The Prestige, The Dark Knight, Inception, and Memento. It's more polished than Following, and this isn't a "favorite to least favorite" scale, because I think there are fascinating aspects about all of his films, but it's not a movie I leap to revisit (like the first four are). It's a solid reboot of the Batman story when it was desperately needed and it set the stage for a spectacular sequel.