In Defense of Batman & Robin

Okay. I haven't abandoned my Wondy project - I have the next entry more or less ready to go; I've just been too lazy to edit it and collect the necessary images.

But, of course, the big news of the hour is Batman. Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight made over $150 million last weekend, breaking a bunch of records that nobody really cares about because they'll be broken next year by a big-budget Sleepwalker adaptation.

Mark my words: Future summer blockbuster.

It's an amazing movie, as you probably know by now. But I don't really feel like talking about it at the moment; that'll come a couple weeks from now after I've had more time to digest it and maybe see it again and think of something funny to say about it after I get all of the tasteless jokes revolving around Heath Ledger being dead out of my system.

No, I want to take a look at a movie that something like 75% of Batman Begins and Dark Knight reviews go out of their way to trash - 1997's Batman & Robin.

You could add a babydoll dress, Doc Martens, and Lisa freaking Loeb to this poster and it still wouldn't look any more 90's than it already does.

The movie is infamous among fanboys as one of the worst comic-to-film adaptations of all time. Its name is practically synonymous with "bad movie," and there was much rejoicing when Christopher Nolan took the character in a grittier, more down-to-earth direction.

But that's a bunch of bullshit. As is often the case, fanboys are guilty here of taking themselves and the characters they read about way too seriously. Because while it may not be the dark, pseudo-realistic take that Dark Knight is, Batman & Robin is, it its own way, a really awesome movie that's too readily dismissed by just about everybody.

I'm going to say it right now: B&R has some of the finest dialog of any live-action Batman film or TV show ever. Don't believe me?

Poison Ivy: Mammals! A day of reckoning is coming! That's right, the same plants and flowers that saw you crawl from the primordial soup will reclaim the planet. And there will be no-one to protect you!
Gossip Gerty: You must be new in town! In Gotham City, Batman and Robin protect us... even from plants and flowers!

Poison Ivy: There's just something about an anatomically correct rubber suit that puts fire in a girl's lips.
Batman: Why is it that all the beautiful ones are homicidal maniacs? Is it me?

Mr. Freeze: I will blanket the city in endless winter. First Gotham, and then the world!
Poison Ivy: Just what I had in mind. Everything dead on earth, except us. A chance for Mother Nature to start again. Behold - the dawn of a new age! My mutant plants have the strength of the deadliest animals. Once you have frozen mankind, these babies will overrun the globe, and we shall rule them, for we will be the only two people left in the world.
Mr. Freeze: Adam... and Evil!

Mr. Freeze: Allow me to break the ice. My name is Freeze. Learn it well. For it's the chilling sound of your doom!

Mr. Freeze: Ice to see you!

There is nothing not to love about this image.

The last one is noteworthy as a representative of the ten million puns Arnold Schwarzenegger's Mr. Freeze makes about cold stuff throughout the movie.

Visually, the movie is garish. Every single actor hams it up as much as they possibly can, to hilarious results (Uma Thurman's Poison Ivy at one point, when foiled, actually yells out, "Curses!"). The plot of the movie doesn't really make sense (for starter's, Poison Ivy's plan to repopulate the planet might not work so well after Mr. Freeze kills everything on it), nor does it pretend to. And it's all totally awesome.

Actual line: "Men, the most absurd of God's creatures. We give you life... and we can take it away just as easily."

Here's the thing. Fanboys have in the past and still do have to deal with the fact that the objects of their hobby of choice - comics - are looked at by most people as either simple kiddie fare or as a substitute for pornography. How far from the truth that is (and often times, the answer is "not very") isn't really important; lots of fans feel as though they have something to prove in regard to their hobby, which means that they want representations of their favorite characters in other media to be as serious and "adult" as possible. Just look around at how many people said in regards to Batman Begins something along the lines of, "Finally, somebody taking Batman seriously!"

And that's not to say that there's anything wrong with serious, gritty takes on various characters. Dark Knight is awesome, and Heath Ledger's Joker is genius, and blah, blah, blah.

The problem is that there tends to be a huge backlash among certain groups against non-serious adaptations in general, and campy ones in particular.

The completely brilliant 1960's Batman show often falls prey to this, with lots of fans thinking that they're clever and sophisticated for pointing out how absurd the whole thing is.

Likewise, there's a ton of bagging on Batman & Robin for how goofy it was.

Well, no kidding. You know what? Batman is a goofy character. He's campy, flamboyant, and theatrical. Bruce Wayne is a tortured soul, sure, but he's also a guy who comes up with cute names for all of his accessories and ensures that, as much as possible, they resemble tiny bats. His regular foes include a clown, a dominatrix, a chubby dandy with a bird motif, and someone who based a criminal career on the number 2.

Quiz: Are you looking at A) a photo of Robin from Batman & Robin or B) promo art from a new series on Bravo?

It's really not surprising that these ingredients should occasionally turn out something bright, colorful, and silly. In fact, one of Batman's big strengths is how ridiculous and colorful his world is. That's one of the reasons he can change so much and still be recognizable as Batman - if the 1960's Batman show is Batman with the color setting on the TV turned all the way up, then Dark Knight is Batman in black and white. But they're both great.

Batman & Robin isn't as good as the 60's TV series; don't get me wrong. It's not even close to the best modern Batman movie. The 1966 Batman is still the second-best Batman movie ever (right behind Batman: Mask of the Phantasm). But B&R isn't the travesty a lot of people think it is, and certainly doesn't belong in the category of truly awful comic book films like Roger Corman's The Fantastic Four or the 1990 Captain America. The whole thing is goofy, loud, hilarious, and, if you don't go into it with some sort of chip on your shoulder regarding silly takes on a guy who runs around in a cape and beats up the mentally ill, a ton of fun.