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about_facesLet me get my bias out right away: I think Batman: Year One is one of the greatest comics ever made.
It's deserving of every bit of praise it receives, and maybe even more, as Frank Miller has done everything in his power to make old fans forget what so many new fans don't realize: he used to be fucking brilliant. But then, working with a masterful artist like David Mazzucchelli (whose recent Asterios Polyp is a modern comic masterpiece) certainly didn't hurt.
While I find that Frank Miller's more-celebrated opus The Dark Knight Returns seems to get uglier and more dated with each passing year, B:YO still shines as a powerfully humane story of crime and heroism. More than that, it's also an incredibly minimalistic comic that represents the antithesis of how bloated and empty most comic storytelling is today.
Whereas most comics are filled with pointless splash pages and two-page spreads to pad out fluff stories to fill trade paperbacks, Miller and Mazzucchelli could tell entire scenes in just a couple panels, or sometimes even just one. Every single line of dialogue mattered. Every word counted. As a long-winded bastard myself, I admire the hell out of anyone who can tell a powerful story by saying very little, or even nothing at all.
So yes, I hold B:YO very close to my heart. As such, I admit that I was prejudiced against the mere prospect of a Batman: Year One animated film, particularly as I've been underwhelmed by all of DC's animated features over the past few years. Even their best adaptations--Justice League: New Frontier and All Star Superman--play like rushed Cliff's Notes of much better graphic novels. Considering that this is largely due to WB Animations' stupid and arbitrary 75-minute running time limit, I was especially dismayed to learn that Batman: Year One would run at little over an HOUR. No way in hell they could do justice to B:YO in that little time!
Except then I read this interview with Bruce Timm, where he said, "When we the finished and timed the storyboard for Batman: Year One we found it came up a little bit short. This was a new one for us! We’d put pretty much the entire comic in the movie and didn’t want to pad it and create new scenes that weren’t in the comic." So I didn't know WHAT to think anymore. Could they have done it? Were they able to tell the entire graphic novel in just an hour? Would they do it justice?
Well, we watched it last week. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I can give this an objective review. I have no idea what someone would make of this if they haven't read the original graphic novel. I don't know how well it would hold up as a film on its own merits. The worst part is, I can remember the last time I felt this way: when I tried to review Watchmen. By which I mean, Zack Snyder's Watchmen movie*.
I imagine some of you are already going, "Oh dear."
What the movies of Watchmen and Batman: Year One have in common is that they're both technically very faithful. Often times, a bit TOO faithful, where it's clear that they virtually used the comic as a storyboard. This would be bad enough, since you can't tell the same story the exact same way across two different types of media, but the changes/cuts they DO make miss the point again and again and again. Because the original comic is so tightly written, the removal of a single line can cut out the entire heart of a scene.
Note: Screenshots are by me, except for one which is watermarked for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dr_von_fangirl. As before, all comic scans are cropped from the digital copies of Batman #404-407, which were purchased at DC's official Comixology site. Sign up for an account and you can buy all four issues for just $1.99 apiece. As you can see, the quality of the scans is quite good, and taken from the recolored graphic novel rather than the crappy four-color print of the original issues. If you'd still rather prefer a hard copy in paperback, it can be purchased online or at any reputable comic store or bookseller that carries graphic novels.
For those who haven't read the book yet or who don't remember how it opens, it begins with the introduction of our two heroes:
Right from the start, Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne are mirrors for each other, and not just because they happen to arrive at the same time. What really ties both of these scenes together in this one page is how they both lament their modes of transportation, and how it reveals both their inner characters and how they view Gotham City.
Gordon is already a tired, weary man who has been through a lot, and is resigning himself to his current fate, all the while wishing he could at least have the illusion that Gotham is anything other than a hellhole. Bruce, meanwhile, is hungry for the hellhole, anxious to tear down the very same illusion of civility. These men are mirrors right from the start, and they way they complement each other's views instantly foreshadows the lifelong partnership these two men will have.
The movie does away with that. Instead, we just get two guys showing up in town at the same time. Oh sure, MOST of the above page is translated for the film, but with a couple notable changes:
In the movie, the scenes are switched around. It instead starts with Bruce's arrival, which isn't a bad change... except after he talks about "the work of men who died generations ago," his lines about "I should be closer. I should see the enemy" are instead altered to "From here, it looks like an achievement. From here, you can't see the enemy." It's a subtle but important difference, as we see when we cut to Gordon on the train.
Gordon delivers all of his lines from the comics EXCEPT the whole "Train's no way to come to Gotham... in an airplane, from above, all you'd see are streets and buildings. Fool you into thinking it's civilized." That whole line, the line which ties his scene with Bruce's in the comic, is cut entirely. Instead, it ends on "Gotham City. Maybe it's all I deserve now. Maybe it's just my time in hell," and then TITLE CARD.
See what happened? By changing those lines, we've completely lost the subtext of just how Bruce and Gordon are complements to each other. Now it's just our two main dudes rollin' into Gotham, bein' all angsty and shit. This is a perfect example of the problem which plagues the entirety of the adaptation.
Let's go back to Snyder's Watchmen for a second, and how wrong-headed it was about Alan Moore's superheroes. Remember how painfully human and mundane the characters were in the original comic? Remember how Rorschach had to painstakingly scale up the side of a building, one step at a time, to investigate Edward Blake's apartment? And do you remember that same scene from the film version, where instead he shot his grappling hook and zipped up with graceful, stylish ease as if he was Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man?
On the left: a human. On the right: a superhero
Yeah, Snyder went and made the superheroes of Watchmen legitimately superhuman, which completely missed the point of Watchmen. Now, even though Batman: Year One is about the most superhuman human superhero ever, one of Miller and Mazzucchelli's main themes was how Bruce wasn't a ready-made expert vigilante from the outset. He was still training, still green, still very unsure.
Notice how uncertain he is, even as he kicks the tree repreatedly until it breaks? The action illustrates how Bruce may have the skill, but he lacks the focus and the purpose to use it to full effect. But in the film, he kicks it ONCE and breaks the entire fucking tree in half with a single kick.
At this point in the film, he's ALREADY The Goddamn Batman, and while he still does the whole "I have to wait, I have to wait," it rings hollow by comparison. Similarly, you have the scene where Bruce goes undercover to the East End in his ill-fated first foray in vigilantism, running afoul of Stan the Pimp, Holly Robinson, and eventually Selina Kyle. In the comic, it's clear that Bruce is in over his head, with clearly no real idea of what he's doing:
There's none of that insecurity or self-scrutiny in the film version. There, he's pretty much a guy spoiling for a fight, and while he gets his own ass kicked instead (just as he does in the comic), he still manages to beat the shit out of several others first, including Holly. You know, the 13-year-old girl whose wrist he's twisting in that above image? Yeah, in the film, he straight-up throws her to the curb and makes her cry, as if they didn't already think that Selina had reason enough to intervene and protect her friend:
The difference between the two scenes is subtle, perhaps not the sort of thing most would think worth noting, but it changes the entire dynamic of this scene, as well as Bruce's whole character arc. It's meant to show how unfocused and green Bruce was before the bat flew through his window, that it was the bat which gave Bruce his focus and purpose. It shows how this human being became something bigger, some greater and more profound extension of himself. The movie subtly robs Bruce of that arc. Instead, he's just an angry badass who decides that is more effective than dressing up as a scarred veteran.
To its credit, the film DOES include one crucial scene of Bruce's inexperience, but only AFTER he becomes Batman. In his first outing, Batman foils an apartment robbery, while only barely managing to keep himself and the robbers alive in the process.
It's another great scene in the comic, mainly because it shows how he didn't magically become perfect once he put on the costume. But by this point in the film, we've already seen Bruce be super-competent and badass, so his awkwardness and self-recrimination here ring hollow.
But maybe I'm being too harsh on the screenplay. After all, it might have worked much better if only Bruce's voice actor--The O.C. "star" Ben MacKenzie--wasn't awful and wooden throughout. Miller's dialogue is fantastic on the page, but if the actor reading it aloud doesn't. I honestly don't know why he was cast, as he brings absolutely nothing to the role, save for when he played a passably amusing Fop!Bruce. But for the vast majority of the film, he is ascaptaintwinings to perfectly put it in her own awesome review: "I am Batman. Please insert girder."
The cast at large doesn't fare much better. Battlestar Galactica's Katie Sackhoff is unremarkable at best as Sarah Essen, and pretty well fails at delivering the emotional impact of the diner scene. She sounded like a disappointed mother, not someone facing the futile reality of her affair with a married man. Again, this wouldn't be as much of a problem if they weren't delivering Miller's dialogue, where every line matters, and should be performed as such. This scene is the closest we get to Essen getting any kind of real personality or character insights, and Sackhoff--like MacKenzie--couldn't deliver.
I never did like the affair subplot, by the way, but I was able to accept it back in the comic. The movie just made it clear that the affair was expressly written to give Loeb some blackmail leverage against Gordon. It sacrificed Gordon's integrity as a character solely for a plot point, and I hate that.
The actors in smaller roles fare better. I enjoyed Jon "You're givin' me the high hat!" Polito as Commissioner Loeb quite a bit, even though I could have sworn that it was DCAU mainstay Ed Asner. Sometime-mogul of Itchy & Scratchy Alex Rocco gave Carmine "The Roman" Falcone a great gravely personality that I'd be pleased to see more of in a prospective Long Halloween movie. I appreciate that he didn't sound like a standard DeNiro/Brando mobster cliche.
Liliana Mumy (yes, daughter of Billy) does an okay job as Holly, on par with one of the kid voice actors from Avatar: The Last Airbender, but I'm sad that she wasn't nearly as whiny as she was in the original comic. Whininess was actually written INTO her dialogue! She doesn't say "Selina, you punched Stan!" She says, "SeLInaaa, you punched StaAAann!" As for Stan himself, he sounded less skeezy than I would have preferred, and more like a standard anime thug. Anothercaptaintwinings gem: "Is there anything more awkward than someone who pronounces his Gs trying to talk street?" Jeff Bennett's Alfred was very Jeff Bennett, but he sounded like a placeholder until they could hire a better actor.
Of course, everyone knows the real star is Bryan Cranston as Jim Gordon. When I first heard this casting, I thought it was absolute genius. I already loved Cranston from way back in Malcolm in the Middle, and goddamn, he's been giving the performance of a lifetime in the dead-brilliant series Breaking Bad, which I'm rabidly trying to get everyone to watch. I get the impression that Cranston was cast as much for his physical appearance as Walter White in the first season as he was for his actual talent:
So how was Cranston as Gordon? Honestly, not as perfect as I wouldn't have hoped (damn my high expectations!), but I think that was purely in how he was directed. As Henchgirl noted, he didn't sound tired enough to be Gordon, nor did he sound like a three-pack-a-day smoker (although it's worth mentioned that he nor anybody else smokes in this animated movie, which is bullshit). I liked the voice at first, as it sounded like weary resignation, but I agree upon consideration. He grew on us, though, especially the way he performed the scene where he fights Flass in the woods:
I'll say this much: when I reread Batman: Year One after watching the film, I couldn't read Gordon's lines without hearing Cranston's voice. That's impressive. Funny thing is, though, Cranston delivers a better performance in my head than the one he gave in the actual film! Go figure. At least this isn't as egregious a directorial mishandling as casting Kevin Spacey to play Lex Luthor as a goofball and not as a serious, calculating, badass master villain. Perfect casting, horrible execution. Cranston mostly gets it right, and is thus the best reason to see the film. After all, JIm Gordon really is the heart, soul, and focus of the book, regardless of Batman's name being on the title.
Of course, there's one more major character I haven't even mentioned yet, largely due to the fact that it's the single most controversial aspect of Batman: Year One: Miller's revamped Post-Crisis origin of Catwoman. I'm not crazy enough to open up that can of cat chow, but thankfully, I know someone who already is the internet's foremost expert in Selina Kyle, someone who also happens to possess an exhaustive knowledge of her Post-Crisis origin. Unfortunately, Henchgirl's been ill for the past week, and needs all her health before trying to tackle the contentious mess that is Sex Worker Selina, how she's thought of in fandom, and how the film screws everything up even worse. Keep an eye out for the rant. I assure you, it will be EPIC.
Of course, now that I'd brought up her favorite character, it's only fitting that my last rant should involve my own. As I had feared, yes, Harvey Dent's been cut out of the story almost entirely, with most of his actions being absorbed into Jim Gordon's story.
Why was Harvey cut, even though they knew they were running under time before they even began animating the film? I imagine it started out of the intention of streamlining the film, and by basically putting it all on Gordon and Batman.
I've already written about the small but vital role Harvey plays throughout Miller and Mazzucchelli's B:YO, and I think cutting him out of the process is a bad idea. First off, Batman and Gordon both need Dent as an ally from a practical standpoint, because Harvey is the ONLY honest man working against the mob and the corrupt cops from within the justice system. But perhaps more importantly, there's the poignancy of that ally becoming their friends, while giving no hint about his dark future beyond what the reader already knows and doesn't need to be reminded. Including him in the story adds a poetic touch, and I don't see how it somehow detracts from Gordon and Batman being effective.
While Harvey is cut out of the plot entirely, they still include his best scene as a small cameo, as Gordon goes looking for Bat-Suspects. When this happened, I was ready to take it as a consolation prize. I thought, "Hey, at least we're getting THIS great scene, at the very least!"
I've always loved Mazzucchelli's Harvey, which gives a distinct look to a character who is too often depicted as a generic good-looking male character.
The entire scene takes up a minute of screen time, not enough to let voice actor Robin Atkins Downes make any impression either way. Frankly, the scene flew by so quickly, I barely remember that it happened at all, which is another flaw about trying to adapt a minimalist comic whose virtues can be studied panel to panel at one's own leisure, rather than zipping along at a film's pace. "But it's okay," I thought, "because at least we have this scene, which is punctuated by a great punchline!"
Except the film changes THAT too.
Wait, there's the desk, so where's...
Oh fucking hell, really? He's outside on the ledge, rather than being all Egon Spengler up under Harvey's desk the whole time? Way to take a fun and human little touch and replace it with something that's just so standard Batman.
Furthermore, it all happens so quickly and inexplicably that I'm not sure the unacquainted viewer would even understand what's happening, and that Batman and Harvey are working together. The fact that we never see Harvey again, and that his subsequent involvement is gone, kind of negates the whole point of this scene establishing their partnership. I'd frankly rather they cut Harvey out entirely, because instead, he's been reduced to a cameo for people who've seen The Dark Knight to congratulate themselves for catching the reference. You know, like those idiots in the movie theater, watching Iron Man 2 and whispering to each other, "See her? She's going to become the Black Widow!"
So yeah, when it came to Harvey, at first I was like:
But then I was all:
And yet, after all my complaints, I should stress that this isn't a bad movie. I'm sure it'd be enjoyed by someone who never read the comic. In fact, based on the reviews I'm seeing from people who HAVE read it, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm in the minority of those bothered by these changes. But personally, I see absolutely no reason for this film to exist if they didn't really do it right. The original comic is a nuanced, layered look at two heroes who complement each other, who face their own flaws as well as their enemies, and ultimately change the course of the corrupt city around them. The movie is about two good guys who show up and beat the bad guys. The comic is a masterpiece of comics art and writing. The movie features standard animation and mediocre voice acting, with a couple great exceptions.
It's a good movie based on a GREAT comic, and there's no reason to watch it as anything other than an interesting experiment. If you haven't read the comic, I say just do that instead. Otherwise, Batman: Year One is worth a rental, if only so it can encourage you to reread the comic, which everybody should do. It's a story which deserves to be reevaluated for the modern era, as it's too often misunderstood by fan and filmmaker alike.
*Here's the thing: I admire what Snyder did (and what he attempted to do) with Watchmen. It was an impossible task, and I think he gave a legitimate interpretation of the source material, which is such a rich and complex work that literally no one can agree about what's really important in that story. It's truly a rorschach test for readers, and the film was simply what Snyder saw in the inkblot. Even still, it was only a fraction of the original story, and like B:YO, was hindered by its slavish adherence to the source material without fully understanding the story. There's a reason why Snyder's brilliant opening credits sequence--which wasn't adapted from any part of the comic itself--was a better Watchmen movie than the film as a whole.
It's deserving of every bit of praise it receives, and maybe even more, as Frank Miller has done everything in his power to make old fans forget what so many new fans don't realize: he used to be fucking brilliant. But then, working with a masterful artist like David Mazzucchelli (whose recent Asterios Polyp is a modern comic masterpiece) certainly didn't hurt.
While I find that Frank Miller's more-celebrated opus The Dark Knight Returns seems to get uglier and more dated with each passing year, B:YO still shines as a powerfully humane story of crime and heroism. More than that, it's also an incredibly minimalistic comic that represents the antithesis of how bloated and empty most comic storytelling is today.
Whereas most comics are filled with pointless splash pages and two-page spreads to pad out fluff stories to fill trade paperbacks, Miller and Mazzucchelli could tell entire scenes in just a couple panels, or sometimes even just one. Every single line of dialogue mattered. Every word counted. As a long-winded bastard myself, I admire the hell out of anyone who can tell a powerful story by saying very little, or even nothing at all.
So yes, I hold B:YO very close to my heart. As such, I admit that I was prejudiced against the mere prospect of a Batman: Year One animated film, particularly as I've been underwhelmed by all of DC's animated features over the past few years. Even their best adaptations--Justice League: New Frontier and All Star Superman--play like rushed Cliff's Notes of much better graphic novels. Considering that this is largely due to WB Animations' stupid and arbitrary 75-minute running time limit, I was especially dismayed to learn that Batman: Year One would run at little over an HOUR. No way in hell they could do justice to B:YO in that little time!
Except then I read this interview with Bruce Timm, where he said, "When we the finished and timed the storyboard for Batman: Year One we found it came up a little bit short. This was a new one for us! We’d put pretty much the entire comic in the movie and didn’t want to pad it and create new scenes that weren’t in the comic." So I didn't know WHAT to think anymore. Could they have done it? Were they able to tell the entire graphic novel in just an hour? Would they do it justice?
Well, we watched it last week. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I can give this an objective review. I have no idea what someone would make of this if they haven't read the original graphic novel. I don't know how well it would hold up as a film on its own merits. The worst part is, I can remember the last time I felt this way: when I tried to review Watchmen. By which I mean, Zack Snyder's Watchmen movie*.
I imagine some of you are already going, "Oh dear."
What the movies of Watchmen and Batman: Year One have in common is that they're both technically very faithful. Often times, a bit TOO faithful, where it's clear that they virtually used the comic as a storyboard. This would be bad enough, since you can't tell the same story the exact same way across two different types of media, but the changes/cuts they DO make miss the point again and again and again. Because the original comic is so tightly written, the removal of a single line can cut out the entire heart of a scene.
Note: Screenshots are by me, except for one which is watermarked for
dr_von_fangirl. As before, all comic scans are cropped from the digital copies of Batman #404-407, which were purchased at DC's official Comixology site. Sign up for an account and you can buy all four issues for just $1.99 apiece. As you can see, the quality of the scans is quite good, and taken from the recolored graphic novel rather than the crappy four-color print of the original issues. If you'd still rather prefer a hard copy in paperback, it can be purchased online or at any reputable comic store or bookseller that carries graphic novels. For those who haven't read the book yet or who don't remember how it opens, it begins with the introduction of our two heroes:
Right from the start, Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne are mirrors for each other, and not just because they happen to arrive at the same time. What really ties both of these scenes together in this one page is how they both lament their modes of transportation, and how it reveals both their inner characters and how they view Gotham City.
Gordon is already a tired, weary man who has been through a lot, and is resigning himself to his current fate, all the while wishing he could at least have the illusion that Gotham is anything other than a hellhole. Bruce, meanwhile, is hungry for the hellhole, anxious to tear down the very same illusion of civility. These men are mirrors right from the start, and they way they complement each other's views instantly foreshadows the lifelong partnership these two men will have.
The movie does away with that. Instead, we just get two guys showing up in town at the same time. Oh sure, MOST of the above page is translated for the film, but with a couple notable changes:
In the movie, the scenes are switched around. It instead starts with Bruce's arrival, which isn't a bad change... except after he talks about "the work of men who died generations ago," his lines about "I should be closer. I should see the enemy" are instead altered to "From here, it looks like an achievement. From here, you can't see the enemy." It's a subtle but important difference, as we see when we cut to Gordon on the train.
Gordon delivers all of his lines from the comics EXCEPT the whole "Train's no way to come to Gotham... in an airplane, from above, all you'd see are streets and buildings. Fool you into thinking it's civilized." That whole line, the line which ties his scene with Bruce's in the comic, is cut entirely. Instead, it ends on "Gotham City. Maybe it's all I deserve now. Maybe it's just my time in hell," and then TITLE CARD.
See what happened? By changing those lines, we've completely lost the subtext of just how Bruce and Gordon are complements to each other. Now it's just our two main dudes rollin' into Gotham, bein' all angsty and shit. This is a perfect example of the problem which plagues the entirety of the adaptation.
Let's go back to Snyder's Watchmen for a second, and how wrong-headed it was about Alan Moore's superheroes. Remember how painfully human and mundane the characters were in the original comic? Remember how Rorschach had to painstakingly scale up the side of a building, one step at a time, to investigate Edward Blake's apartment? And do you remember that same scene from the film version, where instead he shot his grappling hook and zipped up with graceful, stylish ease as if he was Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man?
On the left: a human. On the right: a superhero
Yeah, Snyder went and made the superheroes of Watchmen legitimately superhuman, which completely missed the point of Watchmen. Now, even though Batman: Year One is about the most superhuman human superhero ever, one of Miller and Mazzucchelli's main themes was how Bruce wasn't a ready-made expert vigilante from the outset. He was still training, still green, still very unsure.
Notice how uncertain he is, even as he kicks the tree repreatedly until it breaks? The action illustrates how Bruce may have the skill, but he lacks the focus and the purpose to use it to full effect. But in the film, he kicks it ONCE and breaks the entire fucking tree in half with a single kick.
At this point in the film, he's ALREADY The Goddamn Batman, and while he still does the whole "I have to wait, I have to wait," it rings hollow by comparison. Similarly, you have the scene where Bruce goes undercover to the East End in his ill-fated first foray in vigilantism, running afoul of Stan the Pimp, Holly Robinson, and eventually Selina Kyle. In the comic, it's clear that Bruce is in over his head, with clearly no real idea of what he's doing:
There's none of that insecurity or self-scrutiny in the film version. There, he's pretty much a guy spoiling for a fight, and while he gets his own ass kicked instead (just as he does in the comic), he still manages to beat the shit out of several others first, including Holly. You know, the 13-year-old girl whose wrist he's twisting in that above image? Yeah, in the film, he straight-up throws her to the curb and makes her cry, as if they didn't already think that Selina had reason enough to intervene and protect her friend:
The difference between the two scenes is subtle, perhaps not the sort of thing most would think worth noting, but it changes the entire dynamic of this scene, as well as Bruce's whole character arc. It's meant to show how unfocused and green Bruce was before the bat flew through his window, that it was the bat which gave Bruce his focus and purpose. It shows how this human being became something bigger, some greater and more profound extension of himself. The movie subtly robs Bruce of that arc. Instead, he's just an angry badass who decides that is more effective than dressing up as a scarred veteran.
To its credit, the film DOES include one crucial scene of Bruce's inexperience, but only AFTER he becomes Batman. In his first outing, Batman foils an apartment robbery, while only barely managing to keep himself and the robbers alive in the process.
It's another great scene in the comic, mainly because it shows how he didn't magically become perfect once he put on the costume. But by this point in the film, we've already seen Bruce be super-competent and badass, so his awkwardness and self-recrimination here ring hollow.
But maybe I'm being too harsh on the screenplay. After all, it might have worked much better if only Bruce's voice actor--The O.C. "star" Ben MacKenzie--wasn't awful and wooden throughout. Miller's dialogue is fantastic on the page, but if the actor reading it aloud doesn't. I honestly don't know why he was cast, as he brings absolutely nothing to the role, save for when he played a passably amusing Fop!Bruce. But for the vast majority of the film, he is as
captaintwinings to perfectly put it in her own awesome review: "I am Batman. Please insert girder."The cast at large doesn't fare much better. Battlestar Galactica's Katie Sackhoff is unremarkable at best as Sarah Essen, and pretty well fails at delivering the emotional impact of the diner scene. She sounded like a disappointed mother, not someone facing the futile reality of her affair with a married man. Again, this wouldn't be as much of a problem if they weren't delivering Miller's dialogue, where every line matters, and should be performed as such. This scene is the closest we get to Essen getting any kind of real personality or character insights, and Sackhoff--like MacKenzie--couldn't deliver.
I never did like the affair subplot, by the way, but I was able to accept it back in the comic. The movie just made it clear that the affair was expressly written to give Loeb some blackmail leverage against Gordon. It sacrificed Gordon's integrity as a character solely for a plot point, and I hate that.
The actors in smaller roles fare better. I enjoyed Jon "You're givin' me the high hat!" Polito as Commissioner Loeb quite a bit, even though I could have sworn that it was DCAU mainstay Ed Asner. Sometime-mogul of Itchy & Scratchy Alex Rocco gave Carmine "The Roman" Falcone a great gravely personality that I'd be pleased to see more of in a prospective Long Halloween movie. I appreciate that he didn't sound like a standard DeNiro/Brando mobster cliche.
Liliana Mumy (yes, daughter of Billy) does an okay job as Holly, on par with one of the kid voice actors from Avatar: The Last Airbender, but I'm sad that she wasn't nearly as whiny as she was in the original comic. Whininess was actually written INTO her dialogue! She doesn't say "Selina, you punched Stan!" She says, "SeLInaaa, you punched StaAAann!" As for Stan himself, he sounded less skeezy than I would have preferred, and more like a standard anime thug. Another
captaintwinings gem: "Is there anything more awkward than someone who pronounces his Gs trying to talk street?" Jeff Bennett's Alfred was very Jeff Bennett, but he sounded like a placeholder until they could hire a better actor.Of course, everyone knows the real star is Bryan Cranston as Jim Gordon. When I first heard this casting, I thought it was absolute genius. I already loved Cranston from way back in Malcolm in the Middle, and goddamn, he's been giving the performance of a lifetime in the dead-brilliant series Breaking Bad, which I'm rabidly trying to get everyone to watch. I get the impression that Cranston was cast as much for his physical appearance as Walter White in the first season as he was for his actual talent:
So how was Cranston as Gordon? Honestly, not as perfect as I wouldn't have hoped (damn my high expectations!), but I think that was purely in how he was directed. As Henchgirl noted, he didn't sound tired enough to be Gordon, nor did he sound like a three-pack-a-day smoker (although it's worth mentioned that he nor anybody else smokes in this animated movie, which is bullshit). I liked the voice at first, as it sounded like weary resignation, but I agree upon consideration. He grew on us, though, especially the way he performed the scene where he fights Flass in the woods:
I'll say this much: when I reread Batman: Year One after watching the film, I couldn't read Gordon's lines without hearing Cranston's voice. That's impressive. Funny thing is, though, Cranston delivers a better performance in my head than the one he gave in the actual film! Go figure. At least this isn't as egregious a directorial mishandling as casting Kevin Spacey to play Lex Luthor as a goofball and not as a serious, calculating, badass master villain. Perfect casting, horrible execution. Cranston mostly gets it right, and is thus the best reason to see the film. After all, JIm Gordon really is the heart, soul, and focus of the book, regardless of Batman's name being on the title.
Of course, there's one more major character I haven't even mentioned yet, largely due to the fact that it's the single most controversial aspect of Batman: Year One: Miller's revamped Post-Crisis origin of Catwoman. I'm not crazy enough to open up that can of cat chow, but thankfully, I know someone who already is the internet's foremost expert in Selina Kyle, someone who also happens to possess an exhaustive knowledge of her Post-Crisis origin. Unfortunately, Henchgirl's been ill for the past week, and needs all her health before trying to tackle the contentious mess that is Sex Worker Selina, how she's thought of in fandom, and how the film screws everything up even worse. Keep an eye out for the rant. I assure you, it will be EPIC.
Of course, now that I'd brought up her favorite character, it's only fitting that my last rant should involve my own. As I had feared, yes, Harvey Dent's been cut out of the story almost entirely, with most of his actions being absorbed into Jim Gordon's story.
Why was Harvey cut, even though they knew they were running under time before they even began animating the film? I imagine it started out of the intention of streamlining the film, and by basically putting it all on Gordon and Batman.
I've already written about the small but vital role Harvey plays throughout Miller and Mazzucchelli's B:YO, and I think cutting him out of the process is a bad idea. First off, Batman and Gordon both need Dent as an ally from a practical standpoint, because Harvey is the ONLY honest man working against the mob and the corrupt cops from within the justice system. But perhaps more importantly, there's the poignancy of that ally becoming their friends, while giving no hint about his dark future beyond what the reader already knows and doesn't need to be reminded. Including him in the story adds a poetic touch, and I don't see how it somehow detracts from Gordon and Batman being effective.
While Harvey is cut out of the plot entirely, they still include his best scene as a small cameo, as Gordon goes looking for Bat-Suspects. When this happened, I was ready to take it as a consolation prize. I thought, "Hey, at least we're getting THIS great scene, at the very least!"
I've always loved Mazzucchelli's Harvey, which gives a distinct look to a character who is too often depicted as a generic good-looking male character.
The entire scene takes up a minute of screen time, not enough to let voice actor Robin Atkins Downes make any impression either way. Frankly, the scene flew by so quickly, I barely remember that it happened at all, which is another flaw about trying to adapt a minimalist comic whose virtues can be studied panel to panel at one's own leisure, rather than zipping along at a film's pace. "But it's okay," I thought, "because at least we have this scene, which is punctuated by a great punchline!"
Except the film changes THAT too.
Wait, there's the desk, so where's...
Oh fucking hell, really? He's outside on the ledge, rather than being all Egon Spengler up under Harvey's desk the whole time? Way to take a fun and human little touch and replace it with something that's just so standard Batman.
Furthermore, it all happens so quickly and inexplicably that I'm not sure the unacquainted viewer would even understand what's happening, and that Batman and Harvey are working together. The fact that we never see Harvey again, and that his subsequent involvement is gone, kind of negates the whole point of this scene establishing their partnership. I'd frankly rather they cut Harvey out entirely, because instead, he's been reduced to a cameo for people who've seen The Dark Knight to congratulate themselves for catching the reference. You know, like those idiots in the movie theater, watching Iron Man 2 and whispering to each other, "See her? She's going to become the Black Widow!"
So yeah, when it came to Harvey, at first I was like:
But then I was all:
And yet, after all my complaints, I should stress that this isn't a bad movie. I'm sure it'd be enjoyed by someone who never read the comic. In fact, based on the reviews I'm seeing from people who HAVE read it, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm in the minority of those bothered by these changes. But personally, I see absolutely no reason for this film to exist if they didn't really do it right. The original comic is a nuanced, layered look at two heroes who complement each other, who face their own flaws as well as their enemies, and ultimately change the course of the corrupt city around them. The movie is about two good guys who show up and beat the bad guys. The comic is a masterpiece of comics art and writing. The movie features standard animation and mediocre voice acting, with a couple great exceptions.
It's a good movie based on a GREAT comic, and there's no reason to watch it as anything other than an interesting experiment. If you haven't read the comic, I say just do that instead. Otherwise, Batman: Year One is worth a rental, if only so it can encourage you to reread the comic, which everybody should do. It's a story which deserves to be reevaluated for the modern era, as it's too often misunderstood by fan and filmmaker alike.
*Here's the thing: I admire what Snyder did (and what he attempted to do) with Watchmen. It was an impossible task, and I think he gave a legitimate interpretation of the source material, which is such a rich and complex work that literally no one can agree about what's really important in that story. It's truly a rorschach test for readers, and the film was simply what Snyder saw in the inkblot. Even still, it was only a fraction of the original story, and like B:YO, was hindered by its slavish adherence to the source material without fully understanding the story. There's a reason why Snyder's brilliant opening credits sequence--which wasn't adapted from any part of the comic itself--was a better Watchmen movie than the film as a whole.
