The Dark Knight

Armed with a brilliant script and several grand performances, The Dark Knight roars into theatres and thunderously claims the title of the Greatest Superhero Movie Ever Made. Director Christopher Nolan has crafted an epic continuation of the Batman saga he rebooted with the 2005 hit Batman Begins and his achievement as director and writer (he co-wrote the script with his brother Jonathon) stretches beyond the known limits of heroic big-screen storytelling. The Dark Knight shatters the conventions of the genre and emerges from the wreckage as something entirely new and unexpected: a superhero movie that breaks the rules.

The story begins with Gotham City on the brink of some semblance of normalcy. The mob still owns a considerable portion of the city, but the police, aided by the vigilante efforts of Batman (once again played with a growling voice by Christian Bale), are closing in on arrests. There is a tough journey ahead, but the city is being cleaned up, proof that Batman's actions are beginning to make a positive difference.

However, the most encouraging figure in the fight to save Gotham is the newly appointed District Attorney, a charismatic do-gooder named Harvey Dent (played with equal amounts of charm and determination by Aaron Eckhart). Dent's promise to rid the city of crime has labelled him Gotham's "White Knight," a moniker that clearly mirrors the title of the movie. Between Dent, Batman, and soon-to-be Commissioner Gordon (a caring Gary Oldman), the city of Gotham is finally poised to rise from the grit and the grime.

But then a very disturbed individual wearing makeup and horrific facial scars that create the illusion of a warped smile saunters into town and everything changes. While Nolan made it very clear at the end of Batman Begins that this next instalment would introduce a new take on the Joker, nothing about that winking setup hinted at the power and presence of the character that is now loosed upon the citizens of Gotham. He has come to the city with the simple and abstract plan of encouraging anarchy and he has chosen Gotham specifically because he relishes the challenge of defeating Batman. This Joker views himself as a spectacular sort of villain, a towering form of evil, and the best way to prove his worth is to face off against the world's only superhero. In the context of the movie, this pairing of hero and villain is more than just a reference-laden tribute to the most famous relationship from the source material. Instead, it shines a dark light on the hero and blames him for the arrival of such a terrifying force. Just when Gotham's prospects are beginning to brighten, something far worse than any of the evil that preceded it has come to town and it's all Batman's fault.

While Christopher and Jonathon Nolan have created a fascinating version of the Joker on the page, it is what the late Heath Ledger does with the role that cements this Joker's status as one of the great movie villains of all time. As realized by an unrecognizable Ledger, this twisted creep is a villain of such convincing ferocity that he sets a new benchmark for movie villains. This Joker is so layered, so deeply discovered, that the complexity of Ledger's performance nearly defies explanation. He has found a way to fill every crevice of the character's hunched over body, delivering each line with a voice lifted from some dark, dank underworld.

This Joker claims that he is not crazy and not a monster and perhaps he has a point. As scary and strange and mentally bent as he is, this Joker never ceases to be human. Ledger instils the character with such soul that it becomes impossible to simply shrug off the villain as some sort of extreme lunatic. There is a real beating heart behind the purple jacket he wears and knowing that this guy is a living being makes him all the more disturbing. He represents the darkest shades of humanity and he recognizes great parallels between himself and Batman.

The Dark Knight is not simply a story about Batman locked in a battle with his greatest foe. It is a tragic and overwhelmingly brave exploration of the challenges that plague a superhero. Batman's intentions are noble, but that does not mean that he is entitled to a happy ending. Here, he is more punished than rewarded and the cost of his heroic responsibilities is almost too much for him to bear. Each of his actions force him to face real consequences and he must learn to accept that he cannot save everyone and vanquish all evil.

Employing such meaty ideas and themes allows Nolan to expose the dramatic epicentre of a genre usually more associated with effects-driven action sequences than with the struggling human condition. Because the performances are so dedicated, so electrically charged, the characters are all genuinely worth caring about and this adds a powerful intensity to the proceedings.

There are multiple subplots at work here, but they are all pointed in the same direction, each one masterfully woven into the fabric of the main narrative. Nothing is done without purpose and no scene is inserted without providing necessary propulsion for the story. This committed and driven form of passionate storytelling is made all the more meaningful because the story being told is so richly engrossing.

This latest addition to the Batman franchise is a stunning tour de force and the credit should be spread around. While the Nolan brothers and Ledger are the ones who stand out most clearly, this is an ensemble piece that would not be the great work of art that it is without the contributions of Bale, Oldman, Eckhart, Maggie Gyllenhaal (who replaces Katie Holmes in the role of Rachel Dawes), Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, cinematographer Wally Pfister, editor Lee Smith, and composers Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard.

The Dark Knight opens up the doors to new possibilities for the superhero genre and comic book movies. It shows that a movie about a guy in a batsuit fighting crime can carry the dramatic weight of a heartbreaking tragedy. It elevates our understanding of heroes and villains to unimaginable heights and dares to propose the notion that some heroes belong in the darkness.