I went and saw the Dark Knight again. This time I went with my parents. My mom
is a pretty devout woman with a decent artistic sensibility. Afterward she was
still trying to process the experience, and it was good to get her take on
One thing she said that struck me: “Everyone says it’s lots darker than Batman
Begins. I hate that. It’s not dark, it’s sadistic.”
In one sense, she’s right. It is sadistic. But the sense in which she’s right
is incomplete. The Joker is sadistic, not the film. He is a twisted sadist
whose mere presence should have given the film an R rating. But the film
doesn’t glorify that evil, it exposes it. It presents a glimmer of hope and
a dash of martyrdom in the face of such evil.
And what evil it is. The Joker embodies depravity detached from sanity and
given free reign to deconstruct everything and everyone around him. And by
deconstruct, I mean either blow up or bring to despair.
My mom had another point: “Won’t portraying that evil push some people over
the edge?” Perhaps, but it is their choice to follow the siren song of evil.
The film is structured in such a way to make it clear that there are many and
profound negative consequences for allowing yourself to embrace that evil.
Two-face dies, spiritually in his rampage and then actually. Batman, by way of
contrast, has long ago learned to live with his grief and not succumb to the
temptations of despair. The contrast clearly highlights that the evil is not
to be trusted or embraced. Good clearly triumphs, to the extent that it can
given the horrific, 9-11 scale circumstances.
I’m considering catching a third screening, partly to let it sink in one more
time, and partly to see it in IMAX. And in choosing whether to, I do need to
take some of my mother’s concerns into account. Art does affect us,
powerfully, deeply, and there is a legitimate risk of responding improperly to
art. And such art should play only a minimal role in our lives. One of my
criticisms of the character of Father Ruiz-Sanchez in A Case of Conscience is that
he didn’t read scripture or the divine office nearly as much as he read
Finnegan’s Wake. Art was taking up an unhealthy chunk
of his life, likely because he gave himself over to some aspects of the work
that he responded wrongly to. But the work as a whole needs to be
considered, not just the villain. And you can’t allow a work of art to push
you over the edge.