Review: "The Dark Knight Rises"

Tom Hardy as Bane and Christian Bale as Batman

I read exactly one other review of Christopher Nolan's final Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises, and while it was surprisingly spoiler free (as I will do my best to be), it was basically a full-on rave. The bad news is that The Dark Knight Rises is not better than The Dark Knight. The good news is that it is at least as good.

Eight years after the events of The Dark Knight, Gotham City is celebrating 'Harvey Dent Day' and the Dent Act which basically allowed the GPD to lock up every organized criminal in Gotham, making the city relatively safe for all it's citizens. Of course, this is eating away at Police Commissioner Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), who knows the truth: Dent (Aaron Eckhart) was insane and Batman took the fall for his crime spree. Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has become a recluse, his body so damaged that he has to walk with a cane. At a party celebrating Dent on the Wayne estate, cat burglar Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway) disguises herself as a maid and manages to steal not only Bruce's mother's pearls, but his finger prints, which she then sells to men working for the nefarious mercenary, Bane (Tom Hardy) in exchange for a program that will supposedly erase her record and allow her to start fresh. Meanwhile, Green Earth maven Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard) has been trying to meet with Wayne about his long-mothballed nuclear fission reactor, which she believes will save the planet. Officer John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) has sussed that Wayne is Batman and implores him to return to take back the city from Bane. Much to the dismay of trusty Alfred (Michael Caine), Wayne once again takes up the cape and the cowl, to save the city he loves. To give away more would spoil too much, so I'll leave the complicated plot there.

There is much to admire in Nolan's third and final outing with The Batman, including a story line that ties all three films together; characters (both new and old) who are full of surprises and probably some the franchise's best performances. Hardy (who spends 99% of the movie with his face covered by a mask) is a massive, hulking villain who isn't always understandable but who manages to convey evil through his eyes quite well. Bane, a disciple and successor to Ra's Al Ghul (Liam Neesom in a hallucinatory cameo), plans to finish what his master started and destroy Gotham completely. Hathaway, in one of the best performances I've seen her give, plays a different Catwoman than we've seen before. Rocking a catsuit complete with razor-heeled boots and a mask whose visor flips up to become ears, Hathaway's Selina Kyle is a repentant criminal who wants to get out and move on with her life, but just isn't able to do so. She shows great range here, playing everything from tough-as-nails to scared-as-hell with a seeming effortlessness that both surprised and delighted me. But probably the best performance belongs to Gordon-Levitt as Blake. Strong and smart, his Blake is a man whose admiration for everything for which Batman stands drives him to be a better person and this performance is the one that most people will talk about when they think of the future mega-star's first great role. The rest of the cast is fine and the audience we saw it with were thrilled to see Cillian Murphy return once again in a cameo as Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow. And I was pleased to see both Matthew Modine as Police Chief Foley and Nestor Carbonell as Gotham's gorgeous Mayor.

The script, by Nolan and his brother Jonathan is smart, often funny and filled with plot-twists that literally had at least one of my companions (okay, it was Q) gasp and often made the audience cheer and applaud in delight, especially near the end. The action sequences and FX are nothing short of spectacular and Nolan manages to make several cities (including Pittsburgh and Newark) look like one. Hans Zimmer's soaring score is just about perfect while Lindy Hemming's often elegant costumes are both practical and effective. The film's two hour and thirty-four minute running time flew by and I was actually sorry to see it end. Nolan has once again delivered Uncle P a most excellent bi-annual birthday present. **** (Four Out of Four Stars).  The Dark Knight Rises is rated PG-13 for "intense sequences of violence and action, some sensuality and language." Personally, I do NOT recommend this film for children under 10. 

Finally, just a note about movie courtesy. Put your damned cell phones away! If you can't live without looking at your effing phone for a couple of hours, stay the hell home! D became concerned when I voiced my dismay to a nearby patron, who looked at her phone at least once every five minutes. That light in the corner of my eye was extremely distracting and exceptionally rude, and I just couldn't keep quiet about it a minute longer. The young lady did oblige, thought not with out sighing heavily. Seriously, I didn't pay $12.00 to be distracted by your phone display, a-hole!

Since I posted the latest trailer last night, here's a parody trailer I found amusing:

Oh, and we saw the teaser for Zack Snyder's Superman movie, Man of Steel:

Snyder's last movie was awful, but Nolan is producing, so who knows what we'll get. I still have issues with new costume design.

More, anon.

Prospero

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Don't Live in Fear

The Century 16 in Aurora, CO

A movie theater is a place where you are supposed to be able to escape the horrors of real life for a couple of hours. The lights dim, you sit back and (hopefully) enjoy 90 or more minutes of escapism, far from the madding crowd...

But early this morning, at 2:39 AM Eastern Time, a madman (identified as James Holmes, a former med student, originally from San Diego) opened fire on a Colorado audience who were enjoying the midnight premier of The Dark Knight Rises, the final installment of Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. Holmes was quickly apprehended and reportedly told police "I'm the Joker." When police went to Holmes' apartment, they found it booby-trapped with "incendiary devices." As of this writing, a motive for Holmes' actions has yet to established (or at least, announced). Neighbors describe Holmes as "a loner."

I already have tickets to see TDKR for tomorrow night, along with D; K; Q and Dale. We're seeing it at an AMC, which has announced that they have instituted a new policy prohibiting costumes, masks and replica weapons. Personally, I'm not scared. Just as I wasn't scared to go to McDonald's after the 1984 incident in San Ysidro or enter a high school after the 1999 shooting spree at Columbine. Nor did I stop attending public events after Senator Gabrielle Giffords was gunned down in 2011.

Yes, these were all horrible, terrible, evil events. But I can't allow the actions of a few lunatics to stop me from living my life. Terrible, random things happen all the time. Auto accidents; earthquakes; tsunamis; tornadoes; hurricanes; floods; wildfires; lightning strikes; falling trees; terrorists flying airliners... the list goes on and on. And yes, they are all awful and tragic and very sad. But that's just life. Now, I don't want you to think that Uncle P is a callous bastard who doesn't empathize with the victims of such tragedies. Quite the opposite, in fact. My heart is broken every time I hear about something like this. So many futures cut short; so many families torn apart; so many loved ones lost.

But we can't live our lives in fear. Hell, if I worried about everything that could kill me, I might never leave my house. And what good does that do anyone? I could fall down the stairs or slip in the shower or get electrocuted by a faulty lamp. Broken toes or arrests for public lewdness only serve to prove that we are alive. Face it - the worst thing that is ever going to happen to you is going to happen, no matter what. Whether it's at the hands of lunatic or while asleep in our own beds, there is no escaping the inevitable.

Keep going to the movies. Keep riding roller coasters. Keep sky-diving. Truly live your life as though today is the last, because it very well may be. But never stop planning for the future. A life lived in fear is no life at all.

I'll post my review of The Dark Knight Rises as soon as I get home tomorrow night.

More, anon.
Prospero

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In the Heat of the Night

Yes, They Got this Idea from Me

It is 11:20 PM here on the East Coast of the U.S. and it's probably 85 degrees with high humidity and even sitting with two fans blowing on me, I am sweating like crazy. The Midwest and Northeast have been in the grip of an early heatwave all weekend long. For me, the 'Unofficial Start of Summer' has turned into the Official Start of Misery. of course, living in a valley doesn't help. The humidity just gets trapped, lingering around and making everyone miserable.

Those who know Uncle P well, know that I am a sweater (no, not this, which is referred to as a 'jumper' in the U.K. - who knows why). I am fine if it's just hot; I may glisten a bit or get darkened underarms. But add humidity and I am just a nasty, sweaty mess who may as well be a visual joke in an "Airplane!" movie. It's uncomfortable and embarrassing. People actually stare in horror as water literally pours down my face, soaking my shirts and making me look like some kind of insane, drowned rat. I am actually considering Botox injections in my forehead and scalp to alleviate the problem. 

Of course, to add insult to injury, my main home AC unit refuses to turn on. I don't know if it's the unit itself, or the dedicated 220v outlet (yes, the breaker is on), so I don't know whether to call an HVAC guy or an electrician. So the ridiculous combination of late-May heat and humidity led to a rather inactive holiday weekend. I did go out to breakfast with K, Q and Dale this morning, though I promptly returned home to sit and veg out in front of the boob tube, while three fans worked to keep me as dry as possible. Thank goodness I added premium channels to my cable last week. At least I managed to keep my self entertained. And I know it's genetic. My maternal grandmother could stand naked in a blizzard and still perspire.I have been this way all my life and before you suggest it, I am not diabetic nor do I have any of the other conditions or diseases associated with excessive perspiration. It's just the unluck of the draw...

If the rest of the summer is anything like this past weekend, I'll probably be a dried-out husk by late July, having rendered all by bodily fluids into a disgusting, sweaty puddle long before my birthday. Damn! I really wanted to see The Dark Knight Rises, too. Maybe my friends will be kind enough to prop my mummified corpse in a corner of the theater when they go to see it.

More, anon.
Prospero

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