Moments In The Batman That Make No Sense

Paul Dano's deranged, but still nonetheless brilliant, take on the Riddler is certainly a highlight of "The Batman." He's at once menacing and sadistic, as well as simultaneously pitiable and neurotic. It's honestly the most faithful interpretation of the character in that regard (if not necessarily the most fun).

Having said that, what is not so faithful is his new homeless-chic costume. This, however, is mostly forgivable given director Matt Reeves' grounded take on the universe ... but his goofy, try-hard Zodiac-inspired gimp mask is much less so.

That's mainly because it's so different from any comic book version of the character, who –- while there have been many interpretations over the years, from spandex-wearing trickster to green-suited methodical genius — has always showed his face, with only a domino mask hiding his identity. Heck, Dano's thick glasses seemed like a good "grounded" version of a domino mask anyway.

To be fair, in the film, the Riddler wears the mask (outside of the aforementioned and honestly kind of tacky Zodiac reference) because he needs to hide his identity while streaming his Jigsaw-esque crimes to the internet. Still doesn't make the mask any less ridiculous though.

Ever since 1he Penguin's introduction in 1941's Detective Comics #58, in the story "One of the Most Perfect Frame-Ups," he's had his trusty and iconic weaponized umbrella at his disposal. In fact, every incarnation of The Penguin has had some form of umbrella weapon at this point. Which makes sense, given that The Penguin's umbrella is probably his most definable trait outside his top hat and overly pointy nose. Even Tim Burton's barely-faithful version in "Batman Returns" doesn't get that part wrong (despite getting almost everything else wrong).

However, while it makes some sense to ditch the top hat (a fashion statement of a bygone era), to remove the umbrella entirely seems a step too far. Especially considering it wouldn't be too hard to modernize — he's a mafia enforcer who could have used it as a way conceal a shotgun and try to blast Batman during his initial interrogation or something. It doesn't have to turn into a helicopter that makes him fly (though that would have been cool).

Even worse, there's a scene set during a heavy downpour of rain, and while his goons have umbrellas, the Penguin himself doesn't! What the heck?! That's just rubbing salt in the wound at that point.

Catwoman is one of the most iconic villains (or, in her case, antiheroes) in Batman's entire rogues gallery, and arguably his most healthy romantic relationship (which is saying a lot). So it makes sense that Matt Reeves would want to include her in his new reboot. Furthermore, Zoë Kravitz's portrayal of Catwoman, aka Selina Kyle, is an instant classic. Kravitz gives Kyle a sense of real strength and drive, as well as a calloused but innate sensitivity that slowly emerges throughout the film without ever sacrificing her edge or determination. Not only that, but she also has the character's slinky, feline movement down pat, and actually looks like she can believably kick the butts of goons two to three times her size.

So it's such a disappointment that the script lets her down at every turn. Sure, she gets to wail on some faceless thugs with some flashy moves, but in every critical moment –- whether it's getting subdued by Batman in their introduction, beaten down by John Turturro's Carmine Falcone (an actor, and character, not really known for their fighting prowess), or needing to be saved in the climax from Riddler's army like a damsel-in-distress, Catwoman never really gets a chance to come out on top.

This unfortunately calls to mind the "Strong Female Character" trope, where a woman gets to be strong and cool, until she inevitably fails and the male hero has to actually do all the real work. It's unfortunate, to say the least.

Spoiler Warning: This section contains a major plot point from "Spider-Man: No Way Home."

Like the previous entry, watching Alfred get consumed by flames and presumed dead is less "something wrong with the movie to be upset about" and more "it was upsetting for fans to see Alfred in that dire of a position." Worse is Bruce realizing that the Riddler planned to kill Bruce Wayne, with Alfred as potential collateral damage, and that his race against time was futile because the bomb the Riddler sent had already exploded hours earlier.

This scene is especially upsetting, given what happened to Aunt May in last year's "Spider-Man: No Way Home." She was another character in a superhero blockbuster thought to be safe due to her longevity in the comics –- making her subsequent death that much more shocking and disheartening.

In this case, Alfred does turn out to have survived the Riddler's attack. Which is good, because the loss of Alfred might have been one too many unexpected deaths of beloved characters in such a short timespan.

One of the most iconic comic book arcs in Batman history is "Knightfall," which ran from 1993 to 1994. It was the introduction of Bane, a large, muscle-bound and luchador-masked villain who famously broke Batman's back over his knee.

Now, while Bane is often characterized as being a big, dumb brute, the Bane in the comics (and in "The Dark Knight Rises," where he was played by actor Tom Hardy) is actually a calculating tactician. His strength, however, is still formidable, and augmented by a chemical known as Venom –- a green liquid that is basically super steroids.

Curiously, there's a moment in the climatic action scene of "The Batman" that alludes to the existence of Venom in this universe. Batman is seen reeling from a shotgun blast to the chest, and eventually injects himself with green liquid that gives him a boost of strength to continue fighting and save the day. True, this could just be adrenaline, but the fact that it's so effective and makes him go berserk for a moment (almost killing a random Riddler henchman) –- not to mention that Batman has used Venom in the comics before –- seems deliberate.

It also seems too early to introduce that concept in this new Batman universe. Even in the film itself the revelation seemed unnecessary, especially considering the already three-hour runtime.

It's obvious while watching "The Batman" that writer-director Matt Reeves and co-writer Peter Craig are trying to say something with this film by discussing things like income inequality, rampant police corruption, systemic malfeasance, etc. That's all well and good — potentially noble even. The issue is: what actual statement are they making beyond "these things exist"?

Because the Riddler isn't wrong, really. The world is full of corruption, where the rich and powerful exploit the poor and marginalized with impunity. It's a legitimate problem. The anger is justified. It's so justified in fact, that the screenwriters had to concoct a far-fetched plan to drown Gotham so that his points can be easily ignored (a tactic used in other films like "Black Panther"). Even his and his followers' QAnon-coding is at odds with what his ideological leanings would more likely be (or, worse, the filmmakers are purposely conflating them).

The solution the film comes to seems to be reformation — to "regain trust in institutions," as said by Bella Real (played by Jayme Lawson), the brave, newly-elected, and progressive-coded mayor of Gotham at the end of the film. However, we've seen how reform doesn't fix police corruption and that even progressives will still play realpolitik with people's lives.

This wouldn't be a problem in a less grounded universe — you're not questioning the harsh realities in a Tim Burton movie where cathedrals are the height of skyscrapers. But in this film, it just comes off as pandering and wrong-headed, even if well-intentioned.