In the current cinematic landscape, the plethora of superhero movies, with their hackneyed plots and action sequences, let alone their dull scripts, have made the genre a synonym for banality and absence of creativity, leading to the infantilization of audiences worldwide. Some older superhero films, however, were willing to take risks and use these modern mythologies to comment on reality outside the cinema.
Tim Burton’s monumental Batman Returns (1992) is a case in point and should be rediscovered and rethought in our times. It’s well-known that the film’s subject matter and its grotesque style, which problematized rather than perpetuated the genre’s clear-cut boundaries between “good and evil”, were the main reasons why Burton could not direct another Batman film. The philistinism of critics and producers that demonstrated their lack of knowledge of cinema history peaked when they complained about the film’s emphasis on grotesque visuals rather than plot (as if most superhero films have well-thought-out plots).
Batman Returns is not thin on plot. On the contrary, its content complements its dark, expressionistic form. Revisiting it 22 years later, one is astonished to notice how the storyline addresses themes relevant to the present, such as neoliberalism, capitalism’s environmental destructiveness, the stigmatization of difference, and gender inequality. All these themes are dealt with through an episodic style that brings together four core characters. That’s an extraordinary endeavor not just for a superhero film but for almost any Hollywood-generated film.
The key characters in Batman Returns are the well-known Penguin/Oswald Cobblepot (played mesmerizingly by Danny DeVito); Selina Kyle/Catwoman (in a brilliant performance by Michelle Pfeiffer that efficiently merges the tragic with the comic and the grotesque); the traumatized Bruce Wayne/Batman (Michael Keaton’s minimalist performance is far more convincing than any other actor performing any famous comics character) and; Max Shreck a character that embodies late capitalist greed(quirkily impersonated by Christopher Walken).
The intricacy of Burton’s supernatural fantasy is that aside from the greedy capitalist entrepreneur Shreck, the other characters are far from schematic and are characterized by moral complexity. Batman Returns provides the backstory of how Penguin became a fearful underworld criminal. We learn that his parents’ prejudices and fears on account of his deformity led to his abandonment and social marginalization. The narrative also focuses on the transformation of Shreck’s overworked and underpaid executive assistant into Catwoman, following a series of work humiliations and physical violence. Her boss embodies the typical neoliberal cliché of the businessman who tries to convince the community of the significance and necessity of his investments while he seeks to make a profit by usurping public wealth and dumping toxic waste into the environment. Finally, Batman, who has about the same amount of screen time as the rest of the characters – is the stereotypical traumatized male who can only deal with his “dark side” by putting on a mask, self-deceptively believing that in doing so, he can right social wrongs.
Indeed, Batman Returns stands out in the superhero genre as antiheroic and raises a series of unresolved contradictions that set it widely apart from the usual infantilized superhero narratives. Indeed, the scariest figures in the film are the Shrecks, the market people in suits, who can effortlessly collaborate with the lumpen underworld (call me naïve, Penguin) in the interests of capital accumulation. Rewatching Batman Returns today, we see how its themes divert from the then-impending Clinton presidential administration and its apotheosis of the market. It would not be farfetched to say that the film rewrites political consultant James Carville’s motto, “It’s the economy stupid,” to something like “It’s inequality, you idiot.”
This complexity is achieved mainly by Burton’s dark, grotesque style that pays homage to German Expressionism. Importantly, as the Expressionism of the 20th century can be understood as a response to a crisis-ridden extradiegetic reality, the same applies to Burton’s rendition of Batman, whose grotesque style seems to mock the 1990s triumphalism of neoliberal capitalism and end-of-history truisms that, 30 plus years later, read not only as unconvincing but also ludicrous.
How does style communicate meaning? Scholarship on the grotesque demonstrates how its emergence as a decorative style in painting and film and as a literary device in literature and theatre responds to an alienating reality outside the fictional universe. In his 2006 study On the Grotesque, scholar Geoffrey Galt Harpham argues that the grotesque merges the comic with the tragic, the ludicrous, and the horrific, creating a clash (rather than a unity) between form and content. The grotesque addresses themes of ethical and social corruption, and its combination of somberness, comic extravaganza, and burlesque ludicrousness produces a space in-between that challenges conventional ethical binaries and established morality. It simultaneously attracts, repulses, and contests canonical notions of “the normal and the abnormal”.
For scholar Wolfgang Kayser, the grotesque aesthetic tradition is a reaction to “an estranged” social reality whose intricacy makes it difficult for people to orient themselves in the world. “The grotesque is structure. Its nature could be summed up in a phrase that has repeatedly suggested itself to us: THE GROTESQUE IS THE ESTRANGED WORLD” (capitals in the original). Kayser also points out that the key quality of the grotesque is its inability to provide unity. While the form complements the content, a constant struggle between the two makes the artwork break conventional rules.
This battle between form and content is evident in Batman Returns as the extravagant style and the dark mise en scène contradict the ethics of the individual savior normally associated with the superhero genre. This problematization of individualism is another feature of the film that demonstrates its critique of neoliberal individualism and its preposterous mottos that individuals can initiate economic development and social change by themselves.
The figure of Selina/Catwoman is important here, as she seems to be more in tune with reality than Penguin, who naïvely believes he can get revenge for his marginalization through crime, and Batman, who acts as a typical moral reformist who can help public institutions alleviate crime without targeting the social roots of its causes. In one of Batman Returns‘ emblematic scenes, Selina refuses Batman’s offer to deliver the corrupted Shreck to the police, and the problem is solved. She angrily chastises him: “Do not pretend this is a happy ending!”
Selina is pictured as more aware of inequality rather than the privileged Bruce/Batman, whom we can describe in the words of literary scholar Lauren Berlant as a “cruel optimist”, that is, somebody who attaches himself to “good-life fantasies” despite the material and social contradictions that reduce this ideal to a mere illusion rather than a credible possibility. Selina understands this “good life” fantasy as a sham in an unequal world. Having firsthand experience with social and gender inequality, she knows that people like Shreck remain unpunishable in profit-driven societies. For her, the Shrecks of the world need to be done away with because the dominant legal institutions do not prevent them from perpetuating the usurpation of public wealth, the exploitation of those in need, and the destruction of the environment.
Batman is depicted as naïve enough to conclude Batman Returns with a phrase from Luke 2:14, “Goodwill to Men”, a foolish wish as capable of producing change as a man in a costume trying to fight social evils by himself. Here, Burton captures Catwoman defiantly gazing at Gotham City, communicating an unspoken, untamed anger that impedes any sense of reconciliation and catharsis.
Burton could see that the 1990-era mottos of market freedom and individualism were myths that resulted in social disconnection; his grotesque approach to the Batman mythology can, therefore, be seen as a commentary on a world that prided itself on falsely believing it had solved problems only to intensify them and generate further disorientation. Indeed, Batman Returns merits reevaluation in these times. It’s also a good reminder that visionary filmmakers can rework clichéd/banal mythologies and make something new.
Works Cited
Berlant, Lauren. Cruel Optimism. Duke University Press. October 2011.
Harpham, Geoffrey Galt. On the Grotesque: Strategies of Contradiction in Art and Literature. The Davies Group. May 2006.
Kayser, Wolfgang. The Grotesque in Art and Literature. Indiana University Press. January 1963.