This year's Best Picture nominees are a disappointing mix of solid but deeply flawed films. While each has its charms, these nominees are often less than the sum of their parts. The two nuanced lead performances of "Milk," for instance, are lost among the paper-thin supporting characters and the excessively showy direction of Gus Van Sant. Looking at the slate, 2008 appears to be a below-average year for American film. But nothing could be further from the truth, as one of the richest Hollywood features ever produced was released in 2008: Christopher Nolan's "The Dark Knight." This astonishing movie, so deeply plugged in to the American cultural zeitgeist, only received one major nomination: Best Supporting Actor. Without a doubt, this powerful example of Hollywood at its most ambitious deserved to come away with the top prize.
At a superficial level, "The Dark Knight" delivers the visceral thrills necessary for effective big-budget pop entertainment. It sweeps the audience into the world of superhero Batman (Christian Bale) and uncontrolled maniac the Joker (Heath Ledger) from the very first scene. With sleek direction, Nolan's camera effortlessly captures the unbearable tension of the Joker's bank heist from the point of view of the attackers and the victims. The taut, brutal sequence reveals a world where every gunshot has a deadly consequence. Later scenes, such as the one in which Batman and the Joker enter into a high stakes game of chicken that pits the superhero's motorcycle against the villain's massive semi, have a crackling energy that leaves any audience cheering. While Nolan's film delivers entertainment in spades, the clever auteur uses the film's grand canvas to grapple boldly with troubling themes of moral ambiguity.
The depth of Nolan's enterprise can be seen in the film's characterization of Batman's arch nemesis, the Joker. Oscar nominee Heath Ledger's Clown Prince of Crime was unquestionably 2008's best movie villain. Instead of playing the icon as a cackling loon, the lead actor brings a surprising intelligence to his portrayal of the self-proclaimed "agent of chaos." Bucking the trend that blockbuster villains must act like simplistically evil cardboard cutouts, the anarchist functions with a deep-seated logic while uncovering the hypocrisy inherent in his world. As he tells a mobster with an angered relish, "It's not about the money. It's about sending a message." In an America haunted by Osama bin Laden, Ledger's charismatic Joker embodies a frightening enemy of unwavering principle.
Where the Joker constantly surprises, the film's flawed take on Batman is the most audacious aspect of the production. The superhero operates without a moral compass, apparently willing to do anything for a modicum of security. Observing a wall of monitors that overlook all of Gotham City, surveillance power that would be the envy of the NSA, he remarks, "Beautiful, isn't it?" Blind to the downside of unregulated power, the caped crusader walks in an ethical dark side.
Facing the Joker in an interrogation room, Batman begins to pummel the suspect for information. In this scene, the often-underrated Christian Bale imbues his superhero with an unrestrained and wild fury. When the villain pushes himself off the ground laughing, "You have nothing to threaten me with, nothing to do with all your strength," the film exposes the gap between Batman's violent aggression and real power. Batman's brute force mocks his impotence in the face of such an uncanny terrorist enemy. The Joker's sustained laughter at the hero's antics forces the audience to consider the fundamental weakness of a superficially mighty militaristic system equipped to "take the gloves off," to paraphrase former vice president Dick Cheney speaking about the interrogation of enemy combatants. In Nolan's hands, Batman becomes a deeply subversive image of American authority ensconced in the dangerous principles of realpolitik.
By the end of the film, the damsel in distress has been brutally murdered, and Batman is left running into the night away from the reach of the police. This powerfully grim finale is quite different from the "happily ever after" ending typical of blockbusters. Many film critics have mistakenly asserted that "The Dark Knight" transcends its genre, becoming more than just a superhero flick. Instead, the film's very ability to resonate on such a profound cultural level depends on its being a quintessential superhero tale, since Nolan harnesses the power of the superhero myth to reflect the ideals of the United States. With this skewed mirror, the film exposes a frightened post-9/11 nation caught between a dangerous, unknowable enemy and the ruthless realist state. Rarely does a feature so seamlessly mesh its grand ideas with a flawless and engaging execution. In decades to come, audiences will look back on 2008 as the year of "The Dark Knight." That the Academy failed to recognize Nolan's brilliant achievement only further plunges the Oscar ceremony into irrelevance.
Fareed Ben-Youssef '09 is an English major with a concentration in film. He is writing part of his senior thesis on "The Dark Knight" and post 9/11 anxiety.