Tag: 2022

Batman stands in front of a graffitied glass panel with the word "LIES" in red paint

The Batman

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

It’s not a competition, but DC is better than Marvel.
Nowhere is that clearer than The Batman.

To produce a standalone Bruce Wayne in the wake of The Dark Knight trilogy is a tremendous task. DC rises to the occasion. Look where it ranks:

Top Films 2022

  • The Batman
  • Avatar: The Way of Water
  • Top Gun: Maverick
  • The Menu
  • Everything Everywhere All At Once

The historical grounding is subtle – Bruce scribbling in a journal marked “Year Two” and Alfred already ferklempt. This year-by-year breakdown of Batman’s career comes from contemporary comic lore. Starting in Year Two is smart. Gotham already fears him. He’s a vigilante, formidable but not mythic. Gordon’s still a detective, unaligned with our hero.

It’s the dawn of Gotham’s supervillainy.

Batman is a figment of darkness. In the opening scene, he coalesces out of shadow – emerging from the sunless landing beneath Gotham’s raised trainline like a tendril of justice. One that slithers from the living darkness at the city’s core.

This metaphysical undercurrent – how light and dark are used – carries through the film.
Binocular perspectives. Reinforced glass dividing observer from criminal. A drug-induced haze, vision warped. Even Catwoman’s POV – filtered and unreliable. Or maybe it’s Batman’s?

And the sound design – massive. Warner Bros. mics the costume. Rain plops and patters on Kevlar. Rubber squeals as pruning shears stab. Escaping air whines from a punctured tire.
You feel the impact. A thug’s bat breaks across Batman’s armored back; and it looks like it hurts. Pattinson commits to the realism. The first Batmobile misfires and sputters before finally roaring to life.

He glides off a rooftop – no green screen. That’s Pattinson himself, doing the stunt.
It’s all in service of tone. Dark. Gritty. Haphazard. Real.

The production uses nearly no noticeable CGI. Everything feels shot on-location. The only piece of cheap animation? A clump of machinery dangling from a cable mid-climax. It stands out because everything else feels grounded.

Christopher Nolan’s trilogy isn’t perfect – it’s cinematic. Broad, tight, blockbuster storytelling. Consider:

The Nolan Runtimes

  • Batman Begins (2005): 140 minutes
  • The Dark Knight (2008): 155 minutes
  • The Dark Knight Rises (2012): 165 minutes

Perfect intervals. Almost too tidy.

The Batman runs 176 minutes – longest solo Batman film ever. Some call it excessive. That’s hogwash. A 130-minute origin story would’ve been safer. Instead, Warner Bros. commits to the well. The depth of the fiction justifies the length.

And The Batman gives us more Bruce Wayne in Gotham than Nolan ever did.
Nolan’s Bruce mostly broods or playacts (see: the fountain scene). Pattinson offers layers. In the funeral scene, he oscillates between his halves. Bruce acting Batmany. Bruce acting Brucey.

Each major character in this story is an orphan. But the divergence is the point.
Bruce turns grief into action. Wealth into justice. His loss defines him, but he gives.
Selina Kyle? She steals what she needs and what she wants. She trusts no one.
Edward Nashton? He seethes. Imagines Bruce’s pain came cushioned by silk sheets. Both boys lost their parents. Only one inherited a mansion. The other got rot, and resents the myth of the benevolent orphan prince.

The Batman doesn’t just retell the tale. It re-centers it. From multiple lenses of loss—each refracting through crime, cause and consequence.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Read shorter versions on IMDb and Letterboxd. Or Man of Steel.

Close-up of Margot looking tense in The Menu (2022)

The Menu

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

What’s wrong with being passionate?

Comedy | Horror

The genre billing doesn’t help The Menu. Way too many men are afraid of horror.

If you’re one of the fraidy-cats, take a long look in the mirror. Alone. Fight past the terror. Because you sound like a sissy.

“Have you seen The Menu? Because I’ve heard good things,” I may suggest.
“I don’t like scary movies,” they reply, “I’m frightened and quake in the night.”

Like – that old escape hatch. What is like?

Anyway, don’t let a categorical error scare you away. Because look at where it ranks:

Best Films Released in 2022

  1. The Batman
  2. Avatar: The Way of Water
  3. Top Gun: Maverick
  4. The Menu
  5. Everything Everywhere All At Once

Sharp, insightful and witty; The Menu is easily that year’s biggest oversight. Like a lot of great films, it stumbles into the surreal.

The talent is highly invested. All the actors, known and unknown, work their tails off here. Ralph Fiennes may be our finest working actor. John Leguizamo – who’s had a massive career of inspired performances – might just be our best working character actor. Nicholas Hoult, Anya Taylor-Joy… everyone comes to play.

ATJ

Taylor-Joy stands out as the unwilling participant. She strikes a delicate balance — cold, standoffish, unwilling to join in the sport of gobbling and gushing. That initial detachment feels wrong at first. But as the courses are served, our feelings toward her shift. She may not be likable — but she’s far more honest than everyone else at the table.

There’s a confidence to the film’s irregular structure. Tonally, it’s a balancing act: class satire meets food porn meets cult thriller. There are numerous laughs — a handful on the hardier side — and the violent moments (while infrequent) are handled tastefully. They serve the story rather than hijack it.

The editing deserves a nod. Creative audio transitions — the clap, sizzling meats, scraped spatulas — paired with title-card dishes mocking haute cuisine. Even the supporting players, like the sacrificial lamb and the sous chef, nail their marks with challenging dialogue and unflashy presence.

And no — The Menu isn’t all that profound. Its points about artistry, self-indulgence and critical reception don’t hit with revelation. But they do land. The film both celebrates the culinary and quietly reminds us not to oversell what art is supposed to do.

It’s a character study. A psychological farce. A dish best served weird.

Don’t lump it in with the unearned grotesquery of Nosferatu or The Substance.

The Menu is far more refined — and way more satisfying.

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Short analyses available via IMDb and Letterboxd. Or read my review of Wicked.