The conclusion of Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy is a mixed bag for me — though I have generally liked each entry, and that is true this time as well.  For all of Nolan’s genuine artistry and dedication to making his Batman films better than any superhero films ever made, I have never succumbed to the hero worship that his most fervent fans have generated.  I will admit that some of the movie is astonishing — the chase of the nuclear bomb through the streets of Gotham City, accompanied by the pulse-pounding music of Hans Zimmer — ranks among the most impressive action sequences I have ever seen.

But the brilliance of the special effects team is, to my mind, undone through much of the drama because of the story, which I found strange and occasionally uninteresting. I am aware that Bane (Tom Hardy) is an important, maybe even critical, character of the comic books, but I think he is a terrible choice for this movie.  He looks stupid rather than menacing because of his mask, and no manner of backstory is going to change my reaction.  When he destroys the football field and then makes a speech about freeing Gotham’s citizens from the chains of oppression, what I heard was political and dramatic nonsense.  That the good citizens of the city would, on his orders, turn hooligan and ransack the city, is ridiculous.  So is the notion of trapping the entire police force underground for five months.  Yes, this is an allegory, but it still fails, in my view, in its insistence that only Batman or nuclear holocaust can bring an end to tyranny.

On the other hand, I like Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle (who is never referred to as Catwoman), Gary Oldman as Commissioner Gordon and especially Joseph Gordon-Levitt as the most honest cop in Gotham.  This supporting cast kept me interested in what was going to happen until Batman finally came back from his forced holiday to rescue all the innocents.  On a very basic level, Nolan’s film takes itself all too seriously; somewhat surprisingly to me, many other people do as well, proclaiming this among the greatest films of the era.  No, no, no.  Between Michael Caine’s constant petty arguing (I would have fired Alfred, too) and Christian Bale’s too-good-to-be-true recovery from serious back injury (it doesn’t work that way, folks, trust me on that), this movie has some pitfalls.  But it looks and sounds great, and gives the populace someone in which to put their trust.  It’s too bad that reality doesn’t work the same way.  ☆ ☆ ☆.  22 August 2012.