The Devil Wears Purple

"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!" -Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5

The Joker is a charter member and the crown jewel of Batman's famous Rogues Gallery. From his first comic book appearance in 1940, the character has been portrayed as an anarchist with a penchant for impossible heists, an unpredictable M.O. and indiscernible motives. Sure, the motive for stealing a diamond seems obvious enough, but why would a thief have to kill the diamond's owner in the most elaborate fashion as well? As Michael Caine's Alfred opines in The Dark Knight, "Some men just want to watch the world burn."

What can be said of the late Heath Ledger's turn as The Clown Prince of Crime that has not already been said? To be sure, it is a miraculous performance, a tour de force even, but the realization of the character owes as much to the screenplay by director Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathan as it does Ledger's acting chops. This Joker is a study in contradictions. He is a gifted criminal mastermind, but he cannot hide his disdain for the scheming of others. He is out to prove something, but he claims to be like a dog chasing a car. He wouldn't know what to do if he caught it. He is a remorseless liar and murderer, but we cannot take our eyes off of him. So, what does that say about us? Much like the Bible's depiction of Satan as a tempter, the Nolan brothers' Joker appeals to our baser instincts. His guile is masked by his frightening charisma and a singular ambition not to rule but to destroy. He is a terrorist whose jihad has no religion. Freed from the constraints of status, money, popularity, honor, identity and just about every other social construct, The Joker can do anything he pleases, but he does have at least two rules: 1. there are no rules and 2. no one is incorruptible.

Enter The Batman. Many have given Christian Bale's performance as the titular hero short shrift in the wake of Ledger's scene-chewing Joker. If there was ever any doubt that Bale's Bruce Wayne and Batman are the definitive take on the character, he obliterates it here by effortlessly gliding between each facet of the character's persona. Batman arrives on the scene in The Dark Knight as a fully realized character thanks to 2005's Batman Begins, but here Bale adroitly plays Bruce Wayne as a thunderstruck and conflicted witness to the ethical dilemma that his alter ego has wrought while his Batman is more confident, thus solidifying the notion that Bruce Wayne is the mask that Batman must wear.

For all the bravado of our two protagonists, Aaron Eckhart's Harvey Dent, Maggie Gylenhaal's Rachel Dawes, Gary Olman's Jim Gordon, Morgan Freeman's Lucius Fox, and Michael Caine's Alfred Pennyworth comprise a supporting cast that helps drive the plot. Actors of this caliber don't take roles that call for them to stand around and react to the actions of the homicidal maniac and billionaire playboy/industrialist/vigilante types, and while enough can't be said about this dream ensemble, it is Eckhart's Dent that gives the film its true heart. From his own foreshadowing to the end credits, his character's arc borders on Greek tragedy while still managing to prove relatable. It is another credit to Nolan's script and sure-handed direction.

As for Nolan, he has yet to make a bad movie. Even the least of his efforts, Insomnia, was better than an American remake of a Norwegian thriller had any right to be. Here he has transcended the source material and elevated childhood pulp fantasies to the stuff that celluloid dreams are made of. It is a truly astounding feat to turn a super-hero story into a densely layered crime saga, especially when one considers that this is only Nolan's fourth film since his festival favorite and first truly commercial film Memento unspooled in 2000. While Nolan eschews the stylist predilections of most young directors, his films are like swiss watches. His debts to craftsmen like Michael Mann, John Frankenheimer, Sidney Lumet and William Friedkin are manifest in his overriding trust in the intelligence of his audience and his desire to make even the most fantastic feats of derring-do believable in the world he has created. In "The Dark Knight" Nolan has given us a film that engages on many different levels, and by extension he has appealed to the broadest of audiences without pandering to the lowest common denominator.

Now two weeks into its record-breaking release, the cultural phenomena that is The Dark Knight strikes at the heart of one of the great issues of the modern world. As society becomes more sophisticated, villains like The Joker become more frightening. More is at stake. People have more to lose if anarchy is allowed to reign, and diplomacy, for all it can do, can't save humanity from the greatest evils that threaten it. Batman is no diplomat, and failed diplomacy has made his existence necessary. His justice is messy, but the incorruptible and principled hero deserves a place in the world of Gotham and perhaps our own.