The smart animated spinoff has a far better understanding of the character’s essential mythology than last year’s silly, swaggering Batman v Superman
In the 1960s, there was never any doubt who was Batman. Cuddly crimefighter Adam West, equipped with Toys ‘R’ Us batsuit and ACME shark repellent, was the only Dark Knight in town. These days, Warner Bros seems determined to assault us with an army of caped crusaders of all shapes and sizes. On TV there’s teenage Batman, or at least Bruce Wayne, in the weeny form of Gotham’s David Mazouz. The DVD and download realm is owned by the small screen Bat-veteran Kevin Conroy, most recently showing up in the controversial Alan Moore adaptation The Killing Joke. At the multiplexes there’s Batfleck himself, a six-foot-four colossus of raging testosterone and Superman-baiting alternative facts prone to bouts of totally unnecessary ultra-violence against male and female enemies alike.
And then of course there’s Lego Batman, voiced by Will Arnett. In theory this is the kid-friendly take on the Dark Knight, the watered-down, ersatz, (literally) plastic version. In reality – screw Justice League, and Affleck’s forthcoming solo turn in The Batman, which the Oscar winner now can’t even be bothered to direct – this is the only caped crusader you need to care about right now.
Hand it to Moore, he did at least understand that any truly classic Batman story ought to feature the Joker. The original Killing Joke graphic novel even opened with a scene in which the Dark Knight admits his very identity is defined by opposition to Gotham’s clown prince of crime. The Lego Batman Movie plays beautifully on such shared histories, reimagining the Joker as a sort of tearful jilted lover who cannot possibly imagine that his greatest enemy deems various other DC icons – Bats has a whole list of them – to be his true classic nemeses.
This is in stark contrast to the DC Extended Universe movies, the latest of which, Suicide Squad, featured a storyline in which Batman and The Joker barely speak to each other. If you are going to include both in a movie, it surely makes sense to at least reference the pair’s twisted eternal bond, even if the main focus is elsewhere. Why is it that the makers of The Lego Batman Movie seem to understand the caped crusader’s essential mythology so much more intuitively than the makers of DC’s live-action movies?
Batman’s history has been one of constant vacillation between the original solo caped crusader and later, often controversial additions to Gotham’s pantheon of heroes, from Robin to Batgirl and beyond. The boy wonder became so unpopular at one point that fans voted to kill off the Jason Todd iteration in the Death in the Family comic book arc. Not to be put off, Joel Schumacher introduced the Dick Grayson version in eye-poppingly awful big screen efforts Batman Forever and Batman & Robin, promptly killing Chris O’Donnell’s career and very nearly doing for Val Kilmer’s and George Clooney’s in the process.
The Lego Batman Movie fully understands, and even celebrates, how much some of us simply can’t stand Robin. Squeaky-voiced Michael Cera fires up the irritation dial to 11 and lets go with both silly cylinders as the bug-eyed, short shorts-wearing orphan, but for once the boy wonder is in on the joke. Riffing off the historical dichotomy between solo Bats and the version who comes with an entire Batfamily, then throwing in other essential elements of the Batmythos – such as Bruce Wayne’s existential impotence as a result of losing his parents at a young age – Chris McKay’s movie delivers a richly cultivated, ingeniously self-reflexive storyline that works perfectly as both satire and sugar-coated kids’ entertainment. Everybody wins, bar the teams behind Warner Bros’ other versions of Batman.
How else does Lego Batman outflank his grander counterparts? How about a feminist Batgirl (Rosario Dawson), who when told her fancy new suit comes with a less-than-flattering moniker for a fully grown woman responds: “Does this mean I get to call you Batboy?”
That’s a marked improvement on the version of the superhero presented in the movie version of The Killing Joke. For reasons known only to themselves the film-makers parachuted in deeply offensive scenes in which Batman basically informs Barbara Gordon that only men should be allowed to fight crime in silly costumes, then has sex with her when she responds in anger.
The equal opportunities approach in The Lego Movie even extends to Alfred the Butler, who’s given one of Wayne’s old suits and encouraged to battle evil alongside his surrogate son as “Sixties Batman” – another nice touch. Finally, there’s Harley Quinn, a character so heavily sexualized in Suicide Squad that she was barely recognizable as the troubled yet lovable minx introduced in the classic Batman: The Animated Series TV show. The miniature, plastic version gets her old costume back and a small but vital role to play in The Lego Movie’s narrative.
There is a storyline in the Superman comics in which an entire Kryptonian city, Kandor, is miniaturised by the villain Brainiac. So remarkably on point is McKay’s film that one wonders if Warner Bros would be better off giving its entire, desperately struggling DC Expanded Universe the shrink ray treatment. This Batman may be considerably smaller than the Affleck version, but unlike his Herculean cousin, he’s also perfectly formed.
This article was amended on 6 February to correct the name of the actor who played Batman in the 60s TV series.
