BATMAN: 4K Blu-ray (Warner Bros. 1989) Warner Home Video

True confession: I have never warmed to Tim Burton’s Batman (1989), the big-scale reboot of one of DC Comic’s most beloved action superheroes. Don’t misunderstand. As a youth, I read the comics, same as every other red-blooded male, and, marginally, to be immersed in the otherworldly realm of Gotham City and its uber-weird cacophony of crazed villains. The iconography of that dark world stuck, even if the brightly lit antithesis, depicted as ultra-camp by Adam West in the 1960’s did everything to dispel the legend and mythology from whence its own inspiration had cometh. But Burton’s Batman is not so much a resurrection of that brooding, bleak apocalypse devised by Bob Kane, but an artificially inflated/market-saturated phenomenon with the enigma of a better movie lurking somewhere beneath all the corporate sponsorship. Simply put: you could not turn on the television in 1989, in the months leading up to Batman’s premiere, without being inundated in commercial endorsements, pushing everything from action figures and T-shirts, to lunch boxes, Diet Coke, racing bikes, roller coasters, and, Happy Meals. Bat-merchandise was everywhere; the movie relying so heavily on hype to push it into the public spotlight that the resulting spectacle of seeing the actual movie in a theater could not help but disappoint. And so – no surprise – it did. The sight of a decidedly less than physically robust Michael Keaton appearing in his foam-injected rubber suit, so cumbersome he could barely maneuver his slender frame from within, much less turn his neck to see what dastardly deeds the Joker was cooking up behind his back, made for a hero less ‘super’ than ‘supercilious.’ In an era before Hollywood embraced villains as ‘lead characters’ it was also a little disconcerting to see Jack Nicholson’s name above the title and ahead of Keaton’s as that diabolically grimacing arch nemesis, though Nicholson’s slightly paunchy – if perversely playful deviant was the more flamboyant and fussbudgety of its star turns. And then, there was Kim Basinger’s ineffectual and cooing Vicki Vale to muddle through; an uber-sexpot feigning pouty-lipped innocence to the point of abject tedium. So, arguably, the main reason to see – and enjoy – Batman was Michael Gough’s Alfred Pennyworth – under Gough’s formidable acting command, the stoic, silent, and slightly stodgy type; maintaining Bruce Wayne’s secret identity and dusting out the bat cave and Wayne Manor to immaculate resolve.

Given the gaudy and gauche treatment Batman received on  TV (West's weirdly wondrous, if man-boobed, take on the caped crusader barely ran for two miserable seasons, but managed to stick around like a bad dream in syndication for decades thereafter), is it any wonder the appeal of this superhero was sadly on the wane by 1970? To the rescue – nearly – came a ‘low’ concept for a big screen Batman – in Outer Space no less – put forth by well-intended, though no less misguided producers, Benjamin Melniker and Michael E. Uslan. The deal between Uslan, Melniker and DC Comics was inked in 1979, with Uslan, in particular, eager to make ‘the definitive, dark, serious version of Batman’ as originally envisioned by his creators, Bob Kane and Bill Finger in 1939. Tapping James Bond alumni, Richard Maibaum and Guy Hamilton to respectively write and direct the picture, the project was rejected outright – first by Maibaum and Hamilton – then; by virtually every major studio in Hollywood. Disheartened, but undaunted, Uslan hammered out the details to a screenplay entitled, Return of the Batman which, in hindsight, mimics the tone and plot of The Dark Knight Returns (eventually debuting as an animated series in 1986). At this point, Uslan and Melniker moved into the executive producer’s chair, bringing Jon Peters and Peter Guber on board. And although no studio had yet to chomp at the bit, Uslan leaked a story to the press that the project was a go for $15 million in July, 1980. Believing Uslan might be on to something, Warner Bros., having successfully brought forth another of DC’s prototypical heroes – Superman – in a franchise creatively mismanaged after the departure of director, Richard Donner and the release of the second film, signed on to produce Batman.

Hiring Superman alumni, Tom Mankiewicz to write the screenplay, by 1983 Warner’s had a compelling tale that concentrated on – and paralleled Bruce Wayne (a.k.a. Batman) and Dick Grayson's (a.k.a. Robin) origins. Mankiewicz based most of his situations on Richard Englehart’s limited series, Batman: Strange Apparitions: the villains - the Joker and Rupert Thorne: the heroine - Silver St. Cloud.  That comic’s artist, Marshall Rogers, was also hired for the film’s concept art. Jumping the gun, Warner Bros. aggressively announced ‘The Batman’ as a mid-1985 release, upping its budget to $20 million. Mankiewicz thought the best way to launch the movie would be to cast a total unknown in the lead. Lest we forget, this had done wonders for Christopher Reeve as the man of steel. Mankiewicz also perceived the movie as another all-star spectacle, to have courted such Hollywood legends as William Holden (for James Gordon), David Niven (Alfred Pennyworth), and, Peter O'Toole (the Penguin). Regrettably, as the years wore on, Hollywood was saddened by the untimely losses of Holden (dead from a lacerated forehead in 1981) and Niven (from ALS complications in 1983).  At intervals, it looked as though Ivan Reitman or Joe Dante would direct the picture.  However, Reitman’s insistence on actors, Bill Murray and Eddie Murphy as Batman and Robin respectively brought the project to halt. At this juncture, Batman went through nine complete rewrites by nine different writers – each, cribbing heavily from Mankiewicz's original.

Kismet intervened; the success of Pee-wee's Big Adventure (1985), convincing Warner Bros. that Tim Burton – who cared nothing for comic books or superheroes – was the right man to direct Batman. As though to further muddy these creative waters, Burton had his then-girlfriend, Julie Hickson do a completely new 30-page treatment. It bore no earthly resemblance to Mankiewicz’s original concept. As both small screen endeavors, The Dark Knight Returns and Batman: The Killing Joke had rekindled audience interest in the franchise, Warner hired Englehart back to write a new treatment in 1986. As this too was based on his ‘Strange Apparitions’ series, ironically, plot and characters came full circle, resembling Mankiewicz’s original draft. The studio was impressed. But Englehart felt too many characters intervened. Now, Burton hired Sam Hamm to write the screenplay. Gone in this umpteenth rewrite - the ‘origin story’ in favor of the flashback. Silver St. Cloud became Vicki Vale and Rupert Thorne was replaced by Hamm’s own creation, Carl Grissom. Dick Grayson returned, but was relegated to a cameo. At this point, Warner put on the brakes, despite a ‘thumbs up’ from Batman’s original co-creator, Bob Kane. If not for the success of Burton’s macabre Beetlejuice (1988), Batman might have remained in Hollywood purgatory. Now, the union of Burton and Michael Keaton in this aforementioned effort, also Keaton’s startling departure from broad comedy with the release of Clean and Sober (1988) practically guaranteed he would be cast as the caped crusader, despite such big-ticket talents as Mel Gibson, Kevin Costner, Charlie Sheen, Tom Selleck, Harrison Ford and Dennis Quaid being bandied about. For a brief wrinkle, it looked as though Pierce Brosnan would don the cape.  Alas no – Brosnan wanted no part of it, and neither did Ray Liotta nor Willem Dafoe, initially, falsely reported under consideration to play The Joker. In response to Keaton’s casting, Warner Bros. received 50,000 letters of angry protest from comic book fans.

Personally, I can understand this. As depicted in the comics, Bruce Wayne was a robust paragon – muscular and handsome – qualities that defy the odd-looking, slender and otherwise physically unprepossessing Keaton. Perhaps to hedge their bets, Warner Bros. went the other way with Jack Nicholson as their Joker after briefly considering the likes of Brad Dourif, Tim Curry, David Bowie, John Lithgow and James Woods. Burton actually preferred Dourif, while Robin Williams aggressively lobbied for the part under the radar. But Nicholson had been Uslan’s and Kane’s definitive choice, dating all the way back to 1980 and, unlike Keaton, was an odds-on favorite with comic fans as well. Nicholson demanded – and received – top billing, $6 million salary, and a percentage of the gross, estimated somewhere between $60 million to $90 million. Invalided in a riding accident, Sean Young was replaced as the original Vicki Vale by Kim Basinger, while Burton personally selected Michael Gough for the part of Alfred, inspired by his work on various Hammer Films. Now, production settled into Pinewood Studios in England, consuming 18 sound stages and almost the entire 95-acre back lot. In addition, Wayne Manor was comprised of four locations: Knebworth House and Hatfield House for the mansion, Acton Lane Power Station and Little Barford Power Station, as the bat cave. The original estimated budget of $30 million ballooned to $48 million. Studio pressures on Burton, to produce a colossus in absolute secrecy, mounted when two reels of raw footage went missing. These cans were never recovered and Burton, reflecting years later, would refer to the making of Batman as “pure torture - the worst period of my life!”

The one bright spot of praise Burton had was for his art directors, Nigel Phelps and Anton Furst, who built a Gotham City from a clash of architectural styles, to emerge as apocalyptic, bleak and sinister as anything yet seen on the screen. Visual effects guru, Derek Meddings oversaw the miniatures and animation, while conceptual illustrator, Julian Caldow re-imagined the Batmobile, Batwing and other sundry bat-gadgets. Alas, of all the many props, the one that proved the toughest to create was the bat suit. Costume designer, Bob Ringwood was challenged by the disconnect between the comic book’s iconic six-foot-four hunk and Keaton’s own rather modest physical proportions. Keaton’s claustrophobia did not help, as he was virtually encased in an all-black suit of latex-crafted muscles at a staggering cost of $250,000. And while the suits added girth to Keaton’s frame, the weight of the costume severely limited his range of motion. Visually, Batman’s cumulative impact proved arresting. But even Burton disapproved of Furst’s lavishly appointed cathedral set – a last minute construction job, commissioned by Jon Peters and completed for $100,000, even as the shoot was already spectacularly over budget.  The set, impressive in its own right, was built to accommodate a re-imagining of the picture’s finale – again, without Burton’s consent.  As originally scripted, the Joker was meant to murder Vicki Vale, sending Batman into a vengeful rage.

The final plot of Batman concerns Gotham City’s bicentennial. As Gotham is a crime-riddled metropolis run amok, Mayor Borg (Lee Wallace) orders D.A. Harvey Dent (Billy Dee Williams) and Commissioner Gordon (Pat Hingle) to make the city safer for the planned festivities. Meanwhile, reporter Alexander Knox (Robert Wuhl) and photojournalist, Vicki Vale (Kim Basinger) are investigating a vigilante nicknamed ‘Batman’ who is targeting the city’s criminal element. This caped crusader has an alter-ego - Bruce Wayne, the reclusive billionaire industrialist/philanthropist. As a child, Wayne witnessed the murder of his parents by a psychotic mugger. Hosting a fund-raiser at Wayne Manor, Bruce becomes smitten with Vicki. Alas, the evening is cut short as Commissioner Gordon’s is called away to investigate Batman. Meanwhile, having unearthed an affair between his mistress, Alicia (Jerry Hall) and his second-in-command, Jack Napier (Jack Nicholson), mob boss, Carl Grissom (Jack Palance), orchestrates Napier’s murder in a raid of Axis Chemicals. Instead, Grissom’s plan is foiled with the unexpected arrival of Commissioner Gordon and the police. Realizing he has been set up, Napier kills Lieutenant Eckhardt (William Hootkins) but is inadvertently plunged into a vat of toxic chemicals by Batman. Presumed dead, Napier survives, although he is forever disfigured. Now, he vows bloody revenge on Batman.

Rechristening himself as ‘The Joker’, Napier murders Grissom, scars Alicia’s face to rival his own disfigurement, then takes over Grissom’s mob empire, reigning terror down on Gotham by lacing hygiene products with ‘Smylex’, a deadly chemical causing its victims to die with the same hideous grimace. In his quest for revenge, the Joker becomes bewitched by Vicki.  Luring her to the city’s Museum of Art, the Joker’s plan to bring Batman out of hiding is only partially successful. Batman arrives, but manages – with considerable ease – to save the girl and escape Napier’s cronies.  At the bat cave, Batman provides Vicki with the necessary research on Smylex. This will allow residents to avoid exposure to its toxin. Alas, as Bruce Wayne, he is far less successful at launching into a romance. At Vicki’s apartment, Wayne is interrupted by the Joker, who taunts him with the cryptic query, “You ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight?”  Using a serving tray as body armor, Wayne plays dead. Now, he recalls that the mugger who murdered his parents asked the same question. So, Napier – a.k.a. the Joker, is their killer too. Vicki is brought to the Batcave by Alfred – Bruce’s ever-devoted man servant. Indeed, Alfred recognizes Vicki’s influence has already begun to humanize the uber-reclusive Wayne. Confiding his affections for Vicki, Bruce departs as Batman for a showdown with the Joker at the Axis Chemical Plant. Alas, the Joker is, at present, staging a lavish parade in the heart of Gotham, luring unsuspecting crowds with cascades of cash, but planning to obliterate them with Smylex, concealed within the large parade float balloons sailing overhead.  

In his Batwing, Batman manages to tow the balloons far above the clouds. Enraged, the Joker uses a long-barreled gun to shoot down the Batwing before recapturing Vicki and scaling Gotham’s cathedral. Having survived the crash, Batman fends off the Joker’s remaining henchmen. Only, his injuries have left him weakened and at the Joker’s mercy. As Batman and Vicki cling to the edge of the cathedral’s roof, Batman manages to fasten a grappling hook to one of the cathedral’s stone gargoyles, the other end knotted around the Joker’s leg. The heavy weight causes the Joker to lose his grip. He plummets to his death.  In the movie’s epilogue, Commissioner Gordon declares a victory for the citizens of Gotham and unveils the Bat-Signal – his direct contact to the mysterious crime-fighting vigilante. Harvey Dent receives Batman’s declaration to defend Gotham whenever and wherever crime occurs, and Vicki, is taken to Wayne Manor by Alfred, informed Bruce is running a little late. Already aware that Batman and Bruce Wayne are one in the same, Vicki turns her eyes to the Bat-Signal, beamed brightly against a bank of low-lying clouds above the city as Batman stands guard from one of Gotham’s rooftops.

In its incubation, Batman: the movie had potential to be great – even memorable. Unfortunately, the whole show is wrapped in a sort of characterless self-consciousness to be opaque, ominous and quirky. Burton’s directorial style advances at a glacial pace. Going for mood over substance, many of the scenes leading up to the highlighted confrontations between Batman and the Joker play as though they were stodgy vignettes excised from a BBC drawing room drama. The stateliness of this exercise adds run time, but also ennui and staleness to these quiescent moments that are supposed to be character-driven. Too bad, the dialogue is mostly expository – merely a link to move the story from points ‘A’ to ‘B’. Some scenes suffer from too much going on while others are struggling for something meaningful to say. Excising the origin story (also the character of Dick Grayson – a.k.a. Robin) has deprived the novice viewer, and even the fan favorite, to truly immerse themselves in this dark world. There is no moment of comprehension for Bruce Wayne’s motives, outside of his ‘getting even’ with the forces of evil responsible for the childhood trauma that has subsequently led him to create this dark-sheathed alter-ego. 

Roger Pratt’s cinematography captures the essence of a city is very steep decline, stricken with monumental urban blight (think Detroit) and an even more devastating moral decay to have rotted whatever cosmopolitan appeal it once may have had from the inside. And while ‘the mood’ is achieved, it remains too bleak, too remote, and too appallingly unworthy of our investment to care about what happens to Gotham in the future. Why anyone who values their own self-preservation would even deign to remain in this sun-less cesspool, teeming with uber-diabolical deviants, even with a Batman on the prowl, is a genuine mystery. The bright spot for many is Jack Nicholson’s Joker. And indeed, Jack’s jocular jackal is the best performance in the picture. But it cannot countermand the lumbering mangle of motives and manners that is Michael Keaton’s Bruce Wayne/Batman. Keaton is incapable of showing us any emotion beyond a scowl. I will venture a guess that his stares are meant to be penetrating. But all they achieve is a sort of paralytic posturing, further encumbered by Keaton’s inability to maneuver as anything better than a stiff-britches waxwork inside his bat suit.       

Batman looks predictably stunning on 4K Blu-ray, fulfilling the richness of its shadowy architecture and production design. Warner Brothers’ standard Blu-ray was fairly impressive. So, it is really no surprise to discover the 4K predictably advancing on all fronts, to augment and elevate the overall visual characteristics achieved in its cinematography and achieve a benchmark in home video authoring. So, prepare to be dazzled by exquisitely deep black levels and shadow detail that is stunning. The rare bursts of color are given their lush and lovely saturation. The Joker’s greens, reds, and purples, wed to his white-pancaked death mask are creepy. The greatest improvement is in black level density.  Batman is a very ‘dark’ movie and this 4K rendering delves head-strong into extolling even the minutest detail to subtly emerge from the mire and mist enveloping these sets. Scenes at Wayne Manor adopt a cozy fire-lit warmth, while the bat cave appears appropriately cool and damp, the Axis Factory, clinically concrete and steel. Film grain is consistent and complimentary. In motion, and projected, this just looks like ‘film’.

The newly remastered Atmos sound mix elevates Danny Elfman’s title music to a rich and enveloping experience. Sound effects possess a precise depth. Dialogue is frontal, but with subtle reverb to add ambiance. As with other 4K releases, there are NO extras – save an audio commentary – on the actual 4K disc. Mercifully, we also get the standard Blu-ray. This contains everything as before. There are comprehensive featurettes on the making of the movie, its production design, and individual ‘character’ featurettes, as well as discussion pieces with Bob Kane, storyboards, music videos and, theatrical trailers. Bottom line: even in 4K, my estimation of Batman as an entertainment has not ripened with age. At its crux, it remains neither a movie, nor an event, but a huge marketing plug for product placement and merchandise of every shape and kind. If you love this sort of shameless PR - then Batman in 4K is undeniably the way to go. However, if you only have a passing interest in Gotham’s caped crusader, or none at all, then the original Blu-ray release will surely suffice.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

5+