With all the excitement surrounding Christopher Nolan's "Dark Knight" trilogy, and the esteem with which it is held, we tend to forget the absolute mania surrounding Tim Burton's 1989 version of Batman.
In the light of Nolan's films Burton's version (considered extremely dark for its day) seems quaint by comparison. While Frank Miller's oppressive "Dark Knight" graphic novel was released only a few years before Burton's version, it has more in common tonally with Nolan's films.
I vividly recall the breathless anticipation created by the brilliant pre-Internet, pre-viral marketing WB hype machine. A full year before the movie came out, t-shirts, toys and trinkets started appearing everywhere. DC Comics was in the midst of a Batman renaissance with stories such as "Batman: Year One," "A Death in the Family" and "The Killing Joke."
Mainstream media was jumping on the Bat-wagon covering events like the death of Robin and slowly but surely word on the film was creeping out. I'll never forget hearing Michael Keaton was cast as Batman. I was at my local comics shop and someone there told me. Without independent verification I was skeptical, but soon enough it was confirmed and I was not happy.
The announcement itself could've been a crippling blow but Warners responded quickly with an early trailer showcasing Keaton in action, as well as the film's brilliant art deco production design and the gleeful scenery chewing of Jack Nicholson. The madness had truly begun and I was fully ensconced in it.
When the old Movietime network premiered snippets of trailer footage I was on the phone with my girlfriend and immediately lost my sh*t, desperately trying to chuck a VHS tape in the machine to record at least some of it (I did). My friends and I saw the film "Lean on Me" for the sole purpose of viewing the trailer (denied).
It's hard to imagine how scarce information was to come by back then. Time Magazine published a few photos of Keaton and Nicholson and that was it. It was precisely that lack of information that kept us frothing for the tiniest morsel. In the meantime we lapped up Batman comics by the bushel, bough t-shirts (I had 10 at one time) and speculated about the film ad nauseum.
I considered myself something of a Batman fan, but I was a Marvel boy and really only embraced DC characters in the mid-80s. I watched the TV show as a kid and sneered at it like everyone else when Burton's version was released. But in 1989, I and my friends were absolutely pavlovian in our response to this film and the titular character.
As the release date neared we learned there would be a Thursday night screening in advance of the Friday, June 23 release. At the time, all of us had jobs in a local library, and had to work until 9 p.m. In later years, we'd just leave if we wanted to see a movie. Back then, we sent the one guy who wasn't working to buy us all tickets. If memory serves, the film was starting at 9:30.
My girlfriend at the time wanted to make a quick stop at her house to give me some Batman paraphernalia and against my better judgment I acquiesced (I was young). Still, I realized we needed to get there before 9:20 and we did, only to come upon my buddy Ray, fuming outside the theater and holding our tickets. I think we hit our seats with three minutes to spare.
The opening strains of Danny Elfman's theme washed over us, and say what you will about the film today, we were savoring every second of it. We were not disappointed. Oh sure, as the years wore on, some derided the film as flash over substance, a triumph of production design over plot, but in that moment we were in heaven.
The "afterglow" of Batman lasted a good, long while. We saw it in the theater multiple times. It was released on VHS at a bargain price (and I had a Batman party to celebrate said release). We began speculating about a sequel almost immediately.
We all know what happened to the series. It was an ignominious end, but it paved the way for the eventual Nolan reboot. But as I sat in the theater – at 8:45 a.m. no less – to witness the conclusion of Nolan's trilogy, the feeling didn't compare to the exultation I felt in 1989. We were so young and so naïve back then, and this had been so pervasive and all-consuming in a way things like movies can't be when you're 40+ with a mortgage.
Although my Avengers mania did come close I saw that film by myself. There's something to be said for that shared experience with friends and the joy it brought (the tragedy in Aurora notwithstanding). And to be so wrapped in something as ephemeral as a film is a wonderful, if transitory feeling. We keep it alive when we wax nostalgic about these experiences but nothing is ever the same. 1989 was a good year.
Comments