SPOILER WARNING: I've got to think most of you reading this have seen the film by now, but just in case you haven't, consider yourself warned...
There's a moment in Christopher Nolan's THE DARK KNIGHT that completely sums up Heath Ledger's approach to the character of the Joker, and why it's hands down the best performance of the character that's ever been given. The Joker has been captured by the police, and is locked in an interrogation room with a beefy detective. Casually, clearly trying to get under the cop's skin, The Joker asks how many of the cop's friends he's killed that day. The policeman angrily replies that he'd lost six friends that day. The Joker silently mouths back the word "Six?" and a subtle, underplayed "Wow, that's a lot" expression crosses his face. No manic hooting or wiggling his ass like Jack Nicholson here; no, instead you can always see the wheels turning in the Joker's mind, his cold eyes always betraying a sense that he knows exactly what he's doing, and even on some level knows that it's wrong, and he just doesn't care. There's almost a casualness to Ledger's Joker, as if it's just his job to commit these heinous acts and doesn't even think twice about it, which makes it all the more chilling.
It's sad that Ledger didn't live to see the almost universal acclaim for his performance, nor garner the future roles and opportunities that his marvelous work here would have brought him, because make no mistake about it: this is a career-defining role. However, it's also unfortunate that Ledger's performance is overshadowing the equally impressive work done by Aaron Eckhart as Gotham's D.A. Harvey Dent, which accomplishes masterfully everything Tommy Lee Jones' performance in the same role in BATMAN FOREVER failed so miserably.
Really, this film is Eckhart's more than anyone's, as it's his character that undergoes the most change, and his tragedy that sets up the sacrifice that Christian Bale's Batman makes, which will drive the next film if there is one. In fact, Bale is absent from the film's single most compelling scene, in which the Joker visits the hospitalized, hideously scarred Dent and gets inside his head, coolly and almost charmingly aiming Dent into a living weapon to be aimed at Jim Gordon, and through him, Batman.
With the exception of the previous Nolan-directed film, in most of the BATMAN movies, Batman has taken a back seat to the villains in terms of screen time, and although that's somewhat the case here, it's not at all to the detriment of either the film or the character. Rather, nearly everyone gets their moment in the spotlight here, whether it's Batman struggling with how to deal with copycat vigilantes and finally getting to do a bit of actual detective work, or Morgan Freeman's Lucius Fox assisting his boss both around the world and behind the scenes, or Gary Oldman's Gordon struggling as what seems like the only honest cop in Gotham. And there, constantly circling, is Ledger's Joker, both repellent and undeniably magnetic, leaving the viewer deathly afraid of what he'll do next yet unable to take their eyes off him.
If the movie has a weak link, it's Maggie Gyllenhall, replacing the equally blah Katie Holmes as assistant DA Rachel Dawes. She's passable in the role, but I just don't see enough there that both Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent would be so desperately in love with her. Not that the part should be played by a supermodel-type knockout necessarily, but someone with the kind of presence that would make men like this take notice of her. Gyllenhall looks like she'd blow away in a stiff breeze; not exactly the stuff of a steely-eyed fightin' D.A. But that's a minor quibble in what I'm surprised to remark may be the best movie of the year, in the most enjoyable movie summer I can remember in a long time.
And by the way, if you have the opportunity, most definitely see the film in IMAX. With practically one-third of the film shot with the IMAX cameras, it provides an unbelievably immersive scope to the storytelling that only cranks up what was already a deliciously tense moviegoing experience. (I was literally anxious through most of the film, which I can't remember happening in a movie theatre forever.) The sequence in which Batman free-dives off the top of a skyscraper, in IMAX? Unbelievable.
Much has been made about the film's subtext, how the Joker is a walking analogy for terrorism, and Batman's refusal to give in to his demands, even at the cost of innocent lives, is somehow either an endorsement or repudiation of U.S. foreign policy, depending on which side of the political fence you're on. I'm not sure how much of that I buy into on either side, but how impressive is it that a Batman film is able to carry that kind of symbolic weight with an audience? This is a movie about things, about the choices we make and how they define us, about what a man is willing to give up for the greater good, and whether or not he's able to live with it. Every character in the film is met with a moral dilemma, and one way or another, they all bear the scars. That is, except for the Joker, who explains his scars away differently as the situation calls for it, and laughs his way through life free of moral repercussions, leaving only bodies in his wake.
In the last image the audience sees of Ledger's Joker, he's left hanging upside down swaying in the midnight winds of Gotham, laughing. It's meant to be an unnerving image, and on the face of it, it is. And yet, it's a wistful moment as well, as we see our last glimpses of a young man, a husband and father, taken from his family much, much before his time. One can't help but think of the moments he should have shared with them, and the performances he could have given all of us, were it not for the cruel whim of fate. We’ve been given a marvelous final gift from Ledger in THE DARK KNIGHT, but it's just not enough, and it came far too soon.
Scott Tipton is heading back to the IMAX theatre this weekend. If you have questions about Batman or comics in general, send 'em here.