The Batman (2022) Dir. Matt Reeves — Review & Analysis
I have never been a fan of superheroes in any form of media they are presented to us within, not in comics, or cartoons, or in film. That includes Batman, in spite of the fact that throughout my entire life there has always been someone around with a Batman tattoo, sporting Batman shirts frequently, the friend with Batman pajama pants. Batman, in my mind, has become the symbol of an exception — many of the people around me who love Batman are also like me in the sense that they don’t enjoy superhero movies, comics or cartoons. So why Batman? I’ve seen the majority of major Batman releases, and I hold The Dark Knight(2008) fondly in my heart as both a genius film and a fantastic portrayal of Batman that helped me understand why so many people loved him, and why he was in so many ways an exception to those who don’t generally like superheroes.
When The Batman came out in 2022, immediately, Batman reared his head as an exception with people in my life who are either ambivalent to the super/hero genre or dislike it entirely pouring out in droves to tell me how much I would absolutely love this movie, how much they loved it. Finally, in May of 2024 I sat down to watch it, properly distanced from any of the major hype about the film, in a space to process it independent of how much I had been told I would love it. In the end, I get why so many people thought I would love this, but Batman and seeing the world of Gotham through his eyes is a perspective in film that continues to fall flat for me.
The things I loved about the film are plentiful. Firstly, I loved Penguin’s design — he was imposing, intimidating, but there was that little bit of quirk that makes you take him less seriously, especially when juxtaposed with Batman (here played by the 6’1” Robert Pattinson). The directorial choices made throughout much of the film feels seamless and smart — especially present in the scene of Catwoman eavesdropping for Batman through the high-tech contact lenses in a dark-lit nightclub. During this bit of the film, the perspective of seeing as if we are Batman but through Catwoman — highlights the things about both characters that endear me to them — Catwoman and the way she oozes charm even in the most tense situations, and Batmans sharp focus and high caliber observational skills.
The third act of the film was by far my favorite, and though this is a compliment, it is a criticism. I was not having nearly as much fun as I had during the last hour during the first two. This creates an experience where although I left satisfied, I had to wait so long to be fed what I wanted from this story that I was very very hungry again shortly after. The third act is exciting, fast paced, high intensity with the cinematographer and director showing off exactly what their vision of Batman, Carmine, Penguin, Riddler, Catwoman and the entire city of Gotham was meant to be. A gritty neo-noir action with heart, that oozes sex without any sex present. The way that Paul Dano characterizes The Riddler is masterful, in spite of the issues that I have with the way that his character is written, and what it represents. As much as he is a caricature of an internet-fueled reactionary leftist, he is the reason this plot moves, he is the only one called to genuine action. Watching Riddler scream and moan in captivity, I get the feeling I am meant to feel insulted, but instead I just feel entertained. In spite of the reasons it brings me excitement, the message of the Riddler is not without criticism. As with many proactive people in a world where so many are paralyzed, the actions they commit will often hurt their cause and the positive effects only end up touching very few, select people, and in very self-serving ways. This is the same criticism I have of Batman, and of this story as a whole, however.
In the Gotham that The Batman has created for us, Batman has become a symbol of fear and punishment. We learn this early on, establishing quickly that Batman knows that his presence in Gotham is somewhat of a Boogeyman — he says he is the shadows. Immediately one of my biggest issues with Batman is highlighted as he descends upon a gang of youths committing a crime and swiftly beats them up and returns home to his mansion. Is this Batman? A guy with a hero complex who refuses to organize with the resources he has? “I can’t be everywhere”, Batman says, insteading opting to be nowhere, a shadow, helping selectively.
The Batman clearly attempts to bury this reality as we watch Batman step into a police station and be othered by the police, some calling him a freak as he makes his way through the office. It’s as if I’m being told not to see Batman as an agent of the law, as something more relatable, because the police do not like him. This message is consistently undermined, however, because Batman does collaborate with a Police officer throughout the entirety of the film.
Is Batman meant to be relatable as an admission? Is it that knowledge, however hidden or ignored within so many of us, that if we were that person with all that resource, all that power and influence — we, too would be paralyzed? Either by the size or consistency of the threats, or by our own trauma or fear of collective, consistent action that really changes things. Is it that a soul tortured by its past is something that sinks its fangs into so many of us that we want a hero that allows us to remain suspended in that space, in spite of the consequences? I’m sure it makes many of us feel stronger to see someone like Bruce Wayne, someone like Batman can be paralyzed by the bad things that have happened to them. It is also stark to me that Batman is proof to many people of the myth told to the underclass that money doesn’t buy happiness. Look at Bruce Wayne, all that money, and he is still afraid, he is still hidden. Maybe it’s that Bruce Wayne is stuck more literally in the past, stunted by trauma, living the way a child might desire after they have been hurt — costumes, cool cars, loud music, beating up bad guys.
Catwoman is a different story entirely, characterized as someone who robs in the night as a means of survival. Batman speaks down on Catwoman consistently throughout the film, and while this may read like playful banter to many it reads as stark misogyny to me. He speaks down on her after assuming that she is a sex worker and a drug dealer. The film tries to soothe this by relating this assumption to them “assuming the worst of people” — pitting her justified mistrust of this masked vigilante on the same level as his unjustified disgust at the assumption that she sold sex and drugs for survival. One is a paranoid cop, the other is a strong and vulnerable person aiming to protect herself from being preyed on. To add insult to injury, right after this moment is where they kiss for the first time. It’s confusing, and I don’t buy it for a moment. And it’s not just in this moment that I disagree with the characterization of Catwoman, but throughout the entire film. She is portrayed as unmeasured and overemotional — an unstable liability who is easily overpowered by Batman and saved by him in her most vulnerable moments. It makes me a little sick the way that this film absolutely neutered Catwoman, as a woman, as a hero, and as an iconic figure of fiction.
The sequence toward the end of the film where Batman carries injured survivors of Riddlers attack on Gotham out of a destroyed building made me feel like I was watching an episode of The Boys, in a world where superheroes are always the ones who come out on top no matter how much destruction they have caused, how many people they have consistently avoided helping time and time again. My issues are with what Batman is meant to represent, and that no matter how much I like the characterization of Batman, I am ultimately unable to ignore how much his life is characterized by selective action that only helps the few, instead of changing things for the whole.
The Batman is a film that was saved by its third act, an act that I will revisit and rewatch the first two fairly boring acts to enjoy again. The high intensity, wildly stylized neo-noir feeling of the last hour of The Batman is what I hope to see if we get another Robert Pattinson Batman. His performance is also a major highlight, playing Batman in a demure, sort of pathetic way that made him endearing to me instead of annoying. The Riddler is by far my favorite part of the film, even if I don’t agree with the messages he meant to send, I understand his motives, and I cannot fault him when he lives in this world where so many people are frozen with inaction. Overall, I will revisit The Batman, and I will be seated if a second comes out (please give me Barry Keoghan as the Joker, pleeaaase) — but I will keep wondering what makes Batman’s perspective worthy in a world like Gotham, where the Wayne’s castle is always visible in the skyline right along the Batman symbol beamed into the night.
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