Cinema today is littered with superheroes. The Avengers, the X-Men, the Justice League; there are enough comic book franchises, stand-alone films, spin-offs, etc., going on that we can watch some mighty do-gooder face off against the forces of evil almost every month for about 10 bucks a pop. Despite this modern influx of comic book films giving us enough superheroes to populate a small country — which, actually, is literally true considering the inhabitants of Wakanda’s access to vibranium, but I digress — there remains one movie superhero who stands above the rest and has done so for 30 years now.
I am talking, of course, about Michael Keaton’s Batman, who was first introduced to the public June 23, 1989, in a film simply bearing the masked man’s name.
“Batman” is a remarkable film for many reasons. The neo-gothic ambiance of the setting, the outstanding direction of Tim Burton, the deliriously nutty Joker performance by Jack Nicholson, but above all else there is Michael Keaton, who defied those critical of the comic actor’s selection by turning in a complex and surprisingly relatable rendition of the character. Burton and Keaton worked together to create a portrayal of Batman that was radically different from the campy Caped Crusader who had appeared on the silver screen in the past and any portrayal that would follow. Even more, they created a hero who was different from any other superhero in film we’ve seen since.
When one thinks of the idea of Batman, the concept of the hero rather than a specific depiction of him, one tends to think of a millionaire playboy who by night becomes a dark, menacing vigilante with physical and mental prowess unmatched throughout the world. This basic idea of Batman has been the essence of the character through most of his recent cinematic history.
(I am excluding Adam West from this conversation because though his campy version of the hero is enjoyable it just isn’t serious enough to merit inclusion. I’m also intentionally leaving out Val Kilmer and George Clooney since their films are technically continuations of Keatons’ and are decidedly unserious as well. They also suck.)
Christian Bale’s Batman was a super-ninja who could take down legions of thugs with little more than his bare hands. Ben Affleck’s two turns as the Bat gave us perhaps the darkest Dark Knight, a rage-filled, musclebound vigilante who branded criminals after beating them into a pulp and who had a home workout that would put Olympic athletes to shame. Keaton’s Batman would lose to both Bale’s and Affleck’s iterations in a fight, badly.
This, though it may sound counterintuitive, is exactly why Keaton’s Batman is a better hero than Bale’s or Affleck’s.
Keaton brought a humanity to the role that others simply don’t. Keaton is the only actor to don the cape and cowl who isn’t of above-average height, is noticeably less muscular than the other Batman actors, and is, with apologies to Mr. Keaton, less attractive than any of the them, too. His interpretation of the Dark Knight, in other words, is a relatively average man, and he fights like it, too. His Batman is barely, if at all, stronger than the criminals that he faces, and he relies more on theatrics and cunning to defeat his enemies than he does brute strength.
It’s this everyman quality about Keaton that makes him so compelling as the hero. It’s found in more than just his physique and fighting style, too. His take on the vigilante brooded and kept to the shadows, but whatever anger was simmering underneath the surface never boiled over as it did with the Batmen of Christian Bale and Ben Affleck.
As Batman, Keaton comes off as more sad than angry, more like a quiet, emo Superman than the angry orphan trying to enact revenge that we often think of the character as. Even Keaton’s Bruce Wayne breaks from the traditional mold. He’s no playboy billionaire, he’s an endearingly awkward philanthropist who appeals to women through his good nature, not his good looks and seductive personality.
Our superheroes have grown stronger and increasingly more powerful on-screen. They have bodybuilder-sized muscles, unattainable powers, and movie star good looks to boot. But the more powerful these heroes become, the less relatable they become. Thor withstood the concentrated power of a star in one of the most recent Avengers movies — most of us have to wear sunscreen if we want to stay outside for longer than 15 minutes on a bright summer day.
It may be possible, but it is a bit more difficult for audience members to see themselves in a character capable of such feats. Thirty years on, Keaton’s Batman is still the best superhero because he, more than any other, reminds viewers that even normal humans are capable of heroic acts.
Alec Dent is a freelance writer and graduate of the UNC Chapel Hill School of Media and Journalism.
