The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail (1945) — II: Mind as Blade

*SPOILERS*

Feeling Its Breath

Seated in the checkpoint, it becomes clear that there are two enemy voices that matter — the commander of the garrison, not necessarily gullible but maybe a bit idealistic, and his second in command, vigilant and suspicious. And the cunning Benkei knows how to work the former while keeping the latter at bay.

Change Your Description

The most obvious questions come first. We’re looking for 7 warriors dressed like monks and yall seem suspicious. Benkei responds, Count us — we’re 6 monks and 2 porters. Which is when you realize they’ve taken Yoshitsune out of his monk clothes and dressed him as a porter with a hat covering his easily recognizable face.

A prayer for Arya-Acalanatha, the God of Fire

Know Your Subject Matter

The commander forbids their crossing and orders their arrest. So Benkei responds how an actual monk would — annoyed but resigned. Benkei then has his monks face the wall so he can utter a prayer to Arya-Acalanatha before they are to be taken in (a buddha who carries a sword to cut through ignorance and greed while also being surrounded by flames sustained by wisdom and purity). Benkei’s poetic prayer and Noh intonations please the commander, who from here on out will be looking for reasons to let these pious monks through, although he’s not fully convinced just yet. And we learn the value of feigning submission as well as the nature of Arya-Acalanatha.

Improvising

Think On Your Feet

The monks are trying to cross on the pretense of raising funds for a temple renovation, so the commander asks for their prospectus, a formal solicitation to finance an endeavor. Benkei has the porter fetch one of their luggage cases and removes a scroll. Holds it up and starts a Noh-style intonation of a poetically written document. As he recites it, the second in command is inching toward him; he’s not buying it. We then see the document and realize it’s blank; Benkei is improvising right now. He forcefully finishes his improvisation and snaps the scroll closed right as the second in command begins to circle around him. And we learn the value of knowing formal language and poetry in order to improvise.

Why would monks carry swords?

Know Your Symbology

Finally the commander asks Benkei why their garb seems so peculiar. Benkei responds it’s obvious that there are different sects with different garb. No but why do yall wear armor? To foster austerity in a land consumed by sin. Why do you carry swords? Symbols of Amidaba to vanquish evil from our midst (a buddha I’ve never heard of being associated with a sword). But what about any immaterial evils you may encounter? For that we have the Spell of Nine Words: Ron Pyo To Sha Kai Jin Zai Retsu Zen. And we learn how to protect ourselves from evil and the meanings of various symbols.

Reason Practically

The commander now fully believes Benkei and wants to apologize by donating to his temple, funds that would no doubt be helpful on the group’s path to safety. But Benkei declines saying they’ll be routing back from their fundraising tour in mid-April so the commander should donate something then to lighten their load on the road. And we learn that sometimes refusing things will get you more, if you’ve thought through the practical implications of a thing.

You weakling!

Actions When Words Fail

They’re on their way out when the second in command stops them. Hey! I recognize that porter hunching under the weight of his package! That’s Yoshitsune! Benkei thinks quickly and accuses the guards of greed. (Remember Arya-Acalantha’s sword from earlier)? Which gets them to back off a little. But he seals the deal by beating Yoshitsune with a stick. You weakling! You are never able to carry your load. This’ll teach you! The commander is satisfied. No vassal would dare beat his own Lord. This cannot be Yoshitsune, a noble unaccustomed to carrying items, just an incompetent porter — you may pass. And we learn the value of making exceptions to immovable traditions as well as the value of strategic, forceful action.

So they pass through the check point and get back on the road to friendly territory. And now they’re home free!

Sike.

Like 10 gallons

Take Your Time & Control Yourself

Soldiers from the border crossing catch up to the group. The commander feels bad for his suspicion of you and would like to give you this gift. It’s like 10 gallons of sake. So the group sits down and drinks with the soldiers. They get nice and drunk and sing and dance before the soldiers return to their garrison.

I’m not sure what the lesson here is, especially since I ignorantly thought it was a trap (more traditional Indian Hindus tend to avoid alcohol and their priests are usually forbidden from consuming it but I’m not familiar with the religious traditions in Japan). I gather the lesson is to stay focused even when you’re drunk and avoid arousing suspicion by offending people/rushing through a situation that calls for patience.

The group makes camp for the night and when the porter awakes, he’s alone with tokens of gratitude left behind. The group has moved on, leaving us to ponder the lessons we’ve learned.

Without Disturbing The Tiger

Many of these lessons make more sense when we remember that they’re intended for a shogunate, a political structure that places the military in control of government and society. The audience would be samurai and lifelong warriors. For an audience simultaneously desensitized by violence and in control of stately functions, it would be worthwhile to assert the importance of non-violence, religion, logistics, formalities, the arts, and patience while presenting the peasant class (the porter) as simple but valuable if you treat them with kindness.

Thus if you’re going to tread on the tail of a tiger, there’s a way to do it without the tiger noticing.

The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail (1945) — I: Theater as Education

*SPOILERS*

This week we’ll be looking at what I understand to be a classic story of Noh theater as interpreted by Kurosawa. It’s a story told and retold by many about a group of samurai escorting a nobleman, all disguised as monks, across a hostile border in the aftermath of a battle.

It’s a story of how the cunning and wit of these samurai converge with their interdisciplinary knowledge to accomplish a harrowingly dangerous goal with no room for error.

Noh: Prose and Poetry

If you’re like me then you’re close to perfectly ignorant of Noh, save for brief references in anime; here’s a short, time-stamped breakdown that I’ll summarize. Noh is a theatrical vehicle for religious allegory originally intended to educate members of a shogunate, with a kinesthetic expression that mimics the movement of swordplay as well as with few props and an emphasis on spoken word to encourage viewers to engage with their imaginations. The key takeaways here are that Noh was designed for an audience of well-educated nobles and samurai to develop their minds by way of stories on elevated topics of religious purport, as opposed to other forms of Japanese theater that were more fun and intended for common people.

And this film feels how I imagine a Noh performance might feel. In addition to the characters themselves occasionally singing in that winding hypnotic style, the film also includes off-screen choral and musical accompaniment. (Like a western theater “gallery.” Am I getting that right? Not a theater guy). It’s a unique and engaging format for a film.

Now if you’re familiar with Noh maybe you’ll disagree with me here (and I’d love to hear your take), but I enjoyed every second of this. It was new to me and I liked both the hypnotic vocal metre itself as well as the intentional usage of it to heighten certain moments. I imagine if I understood Japanese the deliberateness with which certain syllables are held might add a richness to the dialogue not possible to appreciate when relying on subtitles.

Finally, in the educational spirit of Noh, I’ll try my best to extract some lessons from the scenarios as they unfold in Segment II. And I’m just some fucking guy so if you saw a scenario as illustrating a different concept, I’d love to hear other perspectives.

Look at this masterful shot composition

Brothers No More

We start off with some written context, like in Star Wars. There’s a nobleman named Yoshitsune who is the brother of the Shogun. He wins a battle and the Shogun becomes paranoid so he puts a warrant out for his arrest, instead of inviting him back home to celebrate his victory. So Yoshitsune sets off with 6 of his loyal samurai to find safety. They enlist the help of a porter who serves as a cartoon of a simple, well-intentioned commoner and provides comedic relief to cut the ever-present tension.

The coolest character, the protagonist of the story and conduit for the lessons you are intended to learn, is a warrior named Benkei. Actually, he’s the only real monk in the group but he can fuck your shit up. Wait what? Yeah, I saw this documentary series on the Sengoku period and it explained that monks in feudal Japan were a warring force. Their temples were safe havens because they were also de facto military institutions. Likewise, their support was pretty much required for any ambitious Lord to consolidate power, so Benkei’s respect as a military leader trained as a monk makes more sense in historical context. And the stories the porter recounts before realizing who these guys are illustrate the legendary Benkei as a 7-foot tall giant who can kill 1,000 people with the stroke of his sword, something that amuses the group given that the real deal is right there.

Voice of reason

Porter finds out who this group is and decides to help, providing them with valuable reconnaissance that the border crossing up ahead is on the lookout for a group of warriors escorting a noble all disguised as monks with their exact count. And the group responds like a buncha war buddies, “Well we’ll just have to cut our way through then,” as manly laughter ensues. Benkei however, monster of legend, becomes a voice of reason here, “I’d expect to hear this from a group of younger soldiers but not you. We must take the safest and least violent way through that crossing. This is only one obstacle of many along our path.”

So they go into the checkpoint peacefully. What is this warrior monk planning?

Sanshiro Sugata Part Two (1945): Imperial Propaganda

Wtf

*SPOILERS*

This is the sequel to the first Sanshiro film following its success. No one asked for it except the production label so Kurosawa had to invent a story to extend the previous one. Really makes you appreciate that even a film darling like Kurosawa was at the time still beholden to the same commercial market forces that fail to acknowledge any connection between the qualitative value of a film and its quantitative value as today.

Haven’t read the novel so I’m not sure how accurate this was relative to its source material however this certainly misrepresented Shiro Saigo’s actual life. He didn’t elect to leave the Kodokan out of a personal sense of failure; he was ignominiously kicked out before being posthumously awarded his 6th Dan.

While the first movie made him seem more noble than he was, its exaggerations only partially eclipsed the interesting parts of the story. This one though. This felt like shameless propaganda. Being that it was released in the final year of WWII, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out this was also the result of ramped up Imperial censorship by the Kempeitai. In summary, this waste of 1 hr 22 min was both a shameless cash grab and shameless propaganda — in other words, a remake/spiritual successor candidate for the recent rise of conservative film production labels. Kidding. (Kind of).

Holier than thou

Let’s Get This Part Out The Way

Things I don’t like that may or may not have a reasonable explanation:

• A move backward to silent film cameras and acting style
• Idle virtue signaling about the soullessness of American boxing as a spectator sport
• Sanshiro’s boringly noble and heroic characterization while almost ignoring important character traits like alcoholism and inner sadness
• Uninteresting villains
• Forced exposition

Vanquishing the inferior westerners

High Points

Now I’d like to spend the rest of this time focusing on the things I liked.

Susumu’s Judo

Susumu Fujita clearly put some time into learning Judo after the last film, as the camera work no longer needs multiple cuts to show a throw. It can just show him throwing others around with some of the aesthetic efficiency that Judo was intended to have.

Kindness for fellow Japanese, even if they were enemies before

The Source of Your Suffering

I also liked the part where Sanshiro sits down with the priest when he can’t sleep, “Let’s meditate. Close your eyes and concentrate on the man who’s bothering you until he’s gone.” This feels like an application of Vipassana as expounded by the Buddha, definitely also found in Zen. It entails boring into any sensation in order to perceive its virtual nature, ie that it is but a signal being processed by your meat computer. And when sensation becomes signal you go to a place where you can transcend your discomfort.

It also reminds me of a meditation practice espoused by Miyamoto Musashi in which you envision the most painful deaths occurring to you over and over. By both dying and suffering many times in your own mind you rob each of its power over you.

Relentless Progress as a Force of Nature

The most interesting part of this story though was the revelation that the rise of Judo has forced their parent Jiu Jitsu schools into desperation, forcing them to fight American boxers for spectacle, a point of dishonor. (Something that feels insufficiently self-aware coming from a franchise in which children sing songs glorifying a man for killing another, literally unnecessarily). Yano’s response to Sanshiro voicing his concerns on this feels practical, “Martial Arts are a path toward consolidation. You will not find peace in compromise.”

I don’t know if Kano (the person Yano was based on) actually said this, but he appears to hit on the same empirical ethos that would eventually travel to Brazil to animate Brazilian Jiu Jitsu before coming to America and finding fuel in our own ruthless brand of empiricism to create Mixed Martial Arts, itself a consolidated combat style.

I especially appreciated Yano’s sense of perspective here. His prioritization of truth and acceptance of impermanence feel like applications of Buddhist philosophy rather than hollow platitudes. “Look at how far we got. That doesn’t cheapen what we built,” he might say when it’s Judo’s time to accept a loss. The advent of Judo came on the heels of the extinction of the samurai way of life, after all. It’ll never feel right — it’s not about that. It’s about letting go when it’s time, because you don’t beat time. You accept it.

Sanshiro Sugata (1943) — III: First Draft of a Hero

Wind raging

*SPOILERS*

Sanshiro’s Characterization

For the most part the story relies on Yano’s exposition to tell us of Sanshiro’s fiery nature while Sanshiro’s behavior is shown to be innocent. Fujita’s uncommitted performance portrays him to be a traditional, boring warrior ideal, humble and respectful. Not that Sanshiro was in fact disrespectful but we simply do not get a sense for his layered personality and internal dilemmas. Kurosawa would go on to write many nuanced, interesting characters later, so I chock this up to WWII Japanese censorship preventing popular depictions of Japanese martial artists as flawed.

Carrying a concealed knife

After defeating and killing Monma, Monma’s daughter tries to kill Sanshiro, which shakes him up. He’s probably got a multitude of thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind:

I killed a man. Killed. And that man’s daughter now hates me so much she tried to kill me with a blade. And she lost her dad just so we could prove whose style is better? I’ve already been accused of being egotistical. What’s the point of all this?

But the unfortunate thing is that this isn’t visualized at all. We learn about Sanshiro’s struggle, Yano’s emotional support, and Sanshiro’s overcoming it through written exposition inserted into the film like a god damn screen saver. The film’s short so they probably had to kill some darlings and I vaguely gather there were production issues. Still, the choice of cutting a moment of conflict and evolution for the protagonist and retaining instead Sanshiro’s first match (which didn’t trigger any growth in a movie that has four fight scenes), for instance, reflects a narrative decision-making choice that weakens character portrayal. It also reflects a tendency to force exposition that I wish I could call an early hallmark, however Kurosawa would go on to force exposition in Yojimbo and Sanjuro as well.

As someone who illustrated such memorable and interesting stories with complex heroes, this definitely felt like a different Kurosawa, although we do get to see his talent for composing images and editing scenes. Despite the writing problems it was still a fun and poetic debut.

Sanshiro Sugata (1943) — II: A Rare Thing

*SPOILERS*

White Lotus

I really enjoyed the theme of purity, innocence, and selflessness, sometimes symbolized with objects. Like in the beginning when Sanshiro throws his getas away to rickshaw Yano home. The same getas are then shown finding their way around town, becoming a plaything for a puppy and finally getting stuck in some reeds swaying in a stream — (inspiration for the famous Tarkovsky motif)? He also stops to help Sayo fix her getas on the staircase where he almost forgets his umbrella.

And in the beginning when he gets back from fighting in the street, Yano brings him back to the dojo and scolds him for not understanding the “true meaning” of martial arts. So he jumps into a cold pond to prove to Yano that he would selflessly die for him, remaining there through the day and most of the night. When the priest absconds him for being egotistical he doesn’t seem to take it seriously. Then at night he sees a lotus, symbol of purity, and realizes he has in fact been egotistical, prompting him to jump out of the water and ask Yano’s forgiveness. Corny but on theme.

Nothing is more powerful

This theme of purity and innocence would be echoed later when Yano and Sanshiro admire Sayo’s beauty at the local shrine, enhanced by her selfless unity with it as she prays. Yano says they should avoid disturbing her in her moment of unity and pay their respects at the shrine another time, “Nothing is more powerful. It’s a rare thing we’ve seen.”

My favorite part of the movie happens in the lead-up to the match with Murai though. Once Sanshiro learns that his opponent is Sayo’s father, he loses his will to fight. He asks the priest, “How could I defeat him when Sayo prayed for him with such innocence and purity?” The priest responds, “By fighting with the same purity and innocence that you discovered when you jumped into the pond.” Combat as an act of devotion; action as that which remains when ego dissolves. What a beautiful idea.

Sanshiro Sugata (1943) — I: Guardian of The Kodokan

*SPOILERS*

Excited to start a series on Kurosawa. Adore his style, although I’ve pretty much only seen his swordplay period pieces. Technically Sanshiro Sugata is not a swordplay film but we can still use that framework for it since its protagonist lives out the bushido lifestyle in the context of his own unarmed martial arts style which takes place around the time of the death of the samurai class. This was Kurosawa’s first feature film, set in 1882, filmed 60 years after the fact. Kinda like making a movie today about a fighter from the 1960’s, like Joe Frazier, not Muhammad Ali but a respected contemporary.

This film follows Sanshiro Sugata, a martial artist, through his journey to greatness and continuing personal growth. It’s important to note that this story is based on an eponymous novel by Tsuneo Tomita which in turn was based on the life of a real person, who we’ll discuss first.

Shiro Saigo, fire palpable

Shiro Saigo

I’m not a historian but I am an amateur fight nerd and have read a little bit over the years, but nothing I remember well enough to cite. If I’m wrong let me know. My understanding is that for most of Japanese history, specific martial arts didn’t have names. You simply practiced a style named after a clan or a city/region, hence the association of Karate with Okinawa; you would’ve simply learned to fight in the Okinawan style of your sensei/his clan. Kinda cool — I don’t box, I use the Savannah Fist from West Houston; I don’t do Jiu Jitsu, I use the Danaher Guard from 33rd and 6th.

I believe the thing that triggered the naming trend was when Jigoro Kano busted onto the scene and named his novel style Judo, which prompted his parent style to take the name Jiu Jitsu. From there Karate followed, even adopting the infamous judo gi. (Do I have a background in Judo? Yes. Does that in any way inform my insertion of that tidbit here in an unbiased way? Of course nott).

Jigoro Kano

Now Kano’s Judo academy was called the Kodokan, which has since expanded with the explosion in Judo’s popularity as an olympic sport. Early on though, he had four star pupils who would come to be known as the Four Guardians of the Kodokan. They were responsible for the rapid initial rise in popularity of Judo within Japan and reputation as a force to be reckoned with.

Meanwhile, the most rambunctious of these Guardians was a man named Shiro Saigo. This was back when two men would fight to the death in a challenge match to prove whose academy had the superior style, so Saigo was a fuckin stud. He was also of diminutive stature (5’0″, 115 lbs, today he’d walk around as a straw weight and might cut down to atom weight), so his Judo had to be sharp. The smallest fighters often have the sharpest technique by necessity.

His rambunctious nature got him in trouble though. He famously sent a sumo wrestler through the air after picking a drunken fight with him. When the sumo bit his ankle their grappling bout escalated into an all-out brawl that ended with Saigo putting multiple people in their place, including a cop. He was then bailed out of jail by Kano and was promptly expelled from the Kodokan before leaving Tokyo and spending the rest of his years practicing archery in Nagasaki. Like many violent men he struggled with alcoholism and a deep inner grief.

Saigo, about to whoop your ass

Shiro Saigo was also the son of a samurai and inherited the practice of some flavor of Aiki-Jiu Jitsu from his father before switching over to Judo. Aiki-Jiu Jitsu appears to be a hybrid style that blends the violent striking of Karate, the nonviolent grappling of Jiu Jitsu, the nonviolent momentum redirections of Aikido, the mostly garbage pseudoscience of pressure points, and the ineffective nonsense of ki/energy manipulation. It appears to be an older predecessor to each of the styles that would go on to bud from it. Now despite being named first, Judo in fact was the new kid on the block, arising as a more focused distillation of the takedowns and ground work from Jiu Jitsu that would be classified as submission wrestling today, eschewing the Jiu Jitsu preference for standing joint manipulations in favor of using the ground as a plane of leverage. Point being, I’m sure Shiro’s father, already one of a dying breed of warriors, wasn’t happy about his son jumping ship from their ancient generalist art to the new, unconventional and specialized art of Judo. I imagine this required some courage on Shiro’s part.

Why does this matter? Because Judo represented the emergence of something new from tradition while still respecting it. And the emergence of a new Japan born out of their ancient traditions was an idea I’m sure the Imperial Military wanted to cultivate in the public imagination when it approved this film. With that understanding it’s actually quite impressive how subdued it is, even going so far as to pick the least idyllic Guardian around which to build its story, probably reflecting Kurosawa’s preference for complex characters.

In this film each of the aforementioned names of real-life Japanese figures are changed as follows:

• Shiro Saigo –> Sanshiro Sugata
• Jigoro Kano –> Shogoro Yano
• Kodokan –> Shudokan
• The Karate names probably also correspond to real-life figures of which I’m ignorant

That’s right baby! JUDO MOVIEEEE!!!!

Sanshiro’s Judo

Shiro Saigo’s Judo had 3 hallmarks:

1. “The Cat.” He was famous for getting thrown and somehow landing on his feet. Admittedly, this is one of those things that could only really happen in old school Judo. Modern Judoka have air-tight control before they initiate, and then they commit to the throw. Today, if you find yourself in the middle of being thrown, you’re not landing on your feet; your best chance is slopping up the throw to sabotage the attacker’s chance at scoring full points on you.
2. “Octopus feet.” Related to his agility, Saigo was known for being very difficult to sweep. You could obstruct his foot yet when you went to push him off balance somehow another one would end up right where it needed to be to catch himself.
3. Yama Arashi. A throw he invented that involves placing both of your grips on the same side of your opponent’s body. This same-side cross-lapel grip is dragged down forcefully while turning your body and obstructing your opponent’s foot, something a smaller Judoka would excel at. Today same-side lapel grips are legal only for 5 seconds due to their tendency to slow a match down when abused (ie stalling), but the ability to hold a larger opponent at bay would be very useful to a smaller Judoka in a non-sport/combat setting. Indeed, Saigo’s ability to frame (stiffen) both of his arms on the same side of an attacker’s body might well have contributed to his agility by preventing his attacker from getting close and keeping weight off his feet.

And I was very excited to see that Sanshiro illustrated two of Saigo’s three hallmarks. During his match against Murai, Sanshiro is thrown multiple times only to land on his feet. Then when he throws Murai, Kurosawa even gets a close-up of his hands to show the same-side cross-lapel grip! Yama Arashi itself isn’t really shown, but I figured that was probably because Susumu Fujita (who plays Sanshiro) just didn’t know Judo. So they were like why show him looking unconvincing when they can just cut a bunch of close-ups together (see also: Taken).

The Batman (2022) — III: Reeves’s Atonement

*SPOILERS*

Reeves’s Riddler

Dano’s Riddler is fucking awesome. He wasn’t the first to go gritty but his performance is stellar. He absolutely shimmers as a vengeful, obsessive, manic Riddler.

Reeve’s Riddler represents atonement as a preclusion to guilt. And he considers himself a judge of sorts, as he reveals when he puts the bomb around that one guy’s neck (the DA or whatever he was) and calls it a “trial.” Humanity, the worst of which is symbolized in Gotham, is guilty and justice cannot be forgone. Even everyday people. Because human nature cannot be avoided. This is where he drives a conversation with Batman that is interesting.

Reeves’s Batman

See Batman is also a judge of sorts. We get this sense through his physicality when inspecting the crime scene following Riddler’s first murder. He picks a small number of things to focus his gaze on and bores into each one, even with his posture and positioning. We only realize later that he can record and revisit footage of what he sees. Although it’s not just data acquisition; he notes to Selina that some people “have a hard time keeping eye contact.” Alpha shit. There’s a palpable judgement in the physicality of his presence. This is a Batman that will stand square in front of you and look you in the eye for an uncomfortable amount of time — to himself pulling your rap sheet and evaluating your innocence, to you wishing you would. A judge that wants to hurt you. This is a Batman that has notable similarities with Riddler, thereby earning Gotham’s fear.

But only if you deserve it? He wants the guilty to atone, not all of Gotham. Yet that guy he saves from the juggalos in the beginning is scared of him just the same. “Should innocent people fear me?” He might think. While Batman is a judge, he is forced to confront the notion of atonement. Riddler makes Batman realize that Gotham also has innocent people who do not deserve vengeance. It’s not enough to be a judge of the guilty — you should also be a judge of the innocent. Meanwhile vengeance is a vehicle only for atonement. Batman realizes then that he must be a tool for all judgement, including the ones that deserve better. Batman must become a force for redemption.

As well as vengeance? TBD.

Riddler understands Batman. He knows there’s something they have in common. And Batman knows this too. Riddler envisions a scenario where he’s the driver and Batman is the car, which is why the place where Batman is forced to draw a line between them is so interesting. The place between guilt and innocence.

We see Riddler challenge Batman existentially in a way that is clear to track. So when Reeves’s Batman changes, we realize his arc was never one of defeating a villain, because the villain wins that battle and floods the city. It was one of gaining clarity on himself. And Reeves’s Riddler’s arc is one of trying to harness an instrument of judgement to deliver his atonement before accidentally providing the energy of activation (E_A) needed to create an instrument of redemption. This is how Reeves’s Riddler loses the philosophical war despite winning the tactical battle.

Consistency

Reeves’s Riddler was symbolically articulate and forced his Batman to take a long hard look in the mirror. He was also more philosophically consistent than Nolan’s Joker, who took as many artistic risks as he could for an audience that had only variably shown to be ready for such a radical character. Not to mention that Nolan’s vision paved the way for the dark aesthetic that Reeves would heighten into a film that felt like a comic book. Pattinson’s performance also communicated a Batman abandoned, suffering, and angry. For those reasons and for its character-driven stylistic tone that felt more like a noir slow burn I absolutely adored watching The Batman.

The Dark Knight (2008) — II: Nolan’s Anarchy

*SPOILERS*

Nolan’s Joker

Nolan’s Joker represents anarchy for the sake of anarchy, “Sum men jus wann’tu wach the wuwd bu’n.” Which is fucking cool. And he’s presented as someone who understands human nature so well that he can turn any pure heart into something dark. So when they verbally call the Joker “just a dog chasing cars,” it doesn’t agree with his illustrated behavior of planning parsimoniously. Like he counts on wire trapping the helicopters, Gordon taking a bullet for the Mayor, faking his own death, and re-emerging during the underground highway sequence in order to get himself captured, having already planted an IED in an inmate. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a dog chasing cars but “meticulously tactical” isn’t it. A more compelling rendition of that character would’ve involved him being such a good read of any individual’s character that he just knows which strings to pull to unlock your inner ugliness, without planning like 15 chess moves in advance. EG after Batman interrogates Joker, how he manipulates that one cop to get into close range so he can take his knife; that is something a dog chasing cars would do. By the way, Heath had no control over that unless he could convince the producer, director, and the studio to recharacterize his Joker at the level of the script.

Nolan’s Batman

And Batman must rise to new levels to overcome the existential threat that Joker poses to him. Joker tries to convince him that they’re both “freaks,” but in turn Batman’s resultant internal dilemma isn’t presented as a philosophical response to Joker pointing out their similarities. It feels like his actual dilemma is him dealing with his own personal fatigue and internal desires to move on from being Gotham’s hero.

Let’s start with Joker triggering the transformation of Harvey Dent into Two-Face. Which matters mainly because…? Because of the implications it has on Batman no longer being able to retire his mantle. The philosophical dilemma is not emphasized. I mean Joker knows Batman’s desires so well he plans on it, putting Harvey and Rachel in different places and mixing up the addresses. That’s the only interesting decision he forces Batman to make, again important because Batman wants to retire with Rachel while giving the white knight mantle to Harvey Dent.

Then when Batman stops him from blowing up a ferry, he doesn’t feel like The Dark Knight — Batman’s internal dilemma simply is not emphasized here. We get no sense that he’s conflicted about human nature. The only darkness about him is his visual appearance; internally he’s angelic purity. He feels like a good guy being good because good is better than bad and humanity is good. This all creates a kind of boring image of Nolan’s Batman, AKA Mr. Law, Order, and Human Goodness. Wow someone give me a hug I feel so warm and fuzzy (shoot me in the head with a gun). I mean what even makes Nolan’s Batman different than Gotham PD? He’s not corrupt and has no jurisdiction. No seriously, that’s it. He’s not an extension of human darkness; he’s more pure than the official enforcers of law and order.

If he feels tempted to keep the absolute power he temporarily gives to Lucius, it’s not really visually emphasized in the film either. If he feels tempted by the Joker’s poignant perception of people, it’s not really visually emphasized in the film. So if Joker represents the problem of anarchy, that makes Batman the solution of law and order. This all characterizes Nolan’s Batman as one less willing to take creative risks.

And understandably so; this was one of the first movies that could appeal to large audiences while taking on a dark, gritty feel. It couldn’t become so morally inquisitive as to lose appeal with an audience that may or may not have been ready for that. This was also the thing that proved Americans are ready for super hero movies as a big complex genre; Iron Man came out the same year and was notably safer.

The Batman (2022) vs The Dark Knight (2008) — I: Reeves’s Batman is Cooler

*SPOILERS*

A hero is only as good as their villain. And vice versa. So I’ll tell you a scientific fact you might not be ready to hear yet. Pattinson’s Batman (2022) is more interesting than Bale’s Batman (2008) because Dano’s Riddler was a better foil than Ledger’s Joker. With that out of the way I also wanna stop calling them by the actor that played them, as if that iteration of these archetypal characters simply had nothing to do with the writers, directors, or producers.

RIP Heath Ledger. Now let’s talk about Dark Knight for its merits and demerits in an honest way. No longer participating in the popular rhetoric that Nolan’s Joker was pure sublime orgasmic cosmic perfection is not the same as disrespecting one of the most iconic, radically unique performances in film history.

Now I’m not a film historian. Heuristically though, it seemed to me that Nolan’s Joker pretty much signaled big mainstream Hollywood’s turn from film having an aesthetic that is pretty and idealistic to one that is gritty and realistic. That’s a big deal, especially for someone like me who revels in Villeneuve’s brutal flavor of realism (Polytechnique signaled his return with a dark new style in 2009, released only one year after The Dark Knight). And because Ledger’s Joker was the first performance to accomplish that, it necessarily couldn’t be as philosophically nuanced as performances that would come later. I mean who here thinks Mike Tyson (prime) would travel back in time, step in a ring, and lose to Joe Louis (prime)? We stand on the shoulders of giants, so it’s natural that Reeve’s Batman was more nuanced.

Prey (2022) — III: The Unproven

Franchise theme of mud

*SPOILERS*

Underestimating Your Prey

The Predator franchise beckons us to ask the same question in various situations:

Who is The Predator right now?

This is another reason I don’t like calling the Yautja “the predator.” We can usurp that status. That’s the idea behind naming the franchise this way. And I think the fact that this film is named “Prey” emphasizes that.

Who’s the Prey? Everyone thinks it’s Naru. Except Naru. God bless.

What a well-written character. Her ambition is shown to us. The Thomas brothers could have had Naru’s mother dump exposition on some cheap bullshit like, “And you’re so ambitious it’ll hurt you one day.” Instead they acknowledge the importance of this character trait and commit valuable film real estate to illustrating a scenario where Naru goes hunting for her kuhtaamia alone. And which animal does she pick? A Grizzly. Which is also how she meets the Yautja for the first time, giving them a chance to reinforce the inner conflict with her fear in the face of a food chain full of danger. How can she complete her kuhtaamia, and become a predator if she runs every time? Good writing shows you a character rather than telling you about them.

Franchise theme of hunting from above

So when the Yautja walks right by her, not acknowledging her as a threat given her propensity to run, he also underestimates her, giving her a chance to ring his shit with a bullet to the head. This gives her the chance to lure him into a trap (which they set up by showing us that Naru is a skilled tracker with an affinity for traps). And the moment that the Yautja realizes the trail he’s been following is a trap, when he stops, straightens up his posture in surprise, and takes a step back. When he feels fear. When the camera reveals Naru hiding in the trees, a place both she and the Yautja have been shown to prefer hunting from. When she attacks him from above. In that moment, the film is asking you:

Who is The Predator right now?