Tim Burton has a precise opinion on ‘his’ Batman, which has nothing to do with the tough and pure hero described by Christopher Nolan. The director of Beetlejuice admitted that, in his eyes, the Batman would need the psychoanalyst’s couch, more than the Batmobile.
If we think about Batmanwe immediately visualize one of the Super heroes most complex and tormented in the history of visual arts. Bruce Wayne he’s a billionaire, therefore a privileged. This allows him to have access to an infinite range of possibilities. At the same time, however, there is something behind the cloak a child marked by a terrible trauma, which influenced his entire life. The cinematic interpretations of the champion of Gotham City – from Christian Bale to Robert Pattinson – rightly give a lot of weight to this aspect.
Paradoxically, however, it was one of the first directors to transform theBatman in a flesh and blood character: the visionary Tim Burton. The eccentric author of 1989 film, has never seen Bruce as a heroic standard-bearer for justice. On the contrary, she has always thought of him from an exquisitely human point of view. And it was following this inspiration that she wrote the role then assigned to Michael Keaton. A choice, the latter, which sparked bitter controversy among fans of the DC Comics comics.
Burton, however, had seen the long view. His film, which includes the histrionic Joker Of Jack Nicholsonwas greeted with great success by the public and critics, grossing more than that $400 million at the global box office. Keaton, as is known, also wore the unmistakable costume in the sequel Batman Returns (1992). Even though he hasn’t even remotely equaled him collections of its predecessor, the film is now a small cult, thanks to the unforgettable version of Danny DeVito of the villain Penguin.
Let’s go back to ‘dad’ of Beetlejuice and what, in his opinion, is the true nature of Batman. The dark vigilante who fights crime, in a nutshell, suffers from depression,as his traumatic childhood robbed him of any trace of happiness. “It’s about depression and a lack of integration,” Burton said in a 1991 interview. “It’s about a character. Unfortunately I always see it as him being about these things, not some kind of hero who’s saving the city from blah blah blah.”
And again: “If you asked me the plot of Batman, I couldn’t tell you. It’s about duality, opposite sides, it’s about a person who is completely fucked and doesn’t know what they’re doing. He has good impulses, but he is not integrated. And it’s depression. It’s about going through life, thinking you’re doing something, trying really hard. And the Joker represents someone who can act as he wants.”
Imagining Batman as an individual who, if he lived in the present day, would be in therapy and taking Citalopram is a sensible, albeit novel, point of view. All superheroes carry a lot of emotional baggage. The cinema of the last twenty years has illustrated and reiterated this in every way. What is certain is that, in Bruce Waynethe suffering is rooted at a very deep level, since his very childhood coincides with the origin of the trauma.
Not that the other directors, first of all Christopher Nolan with the trilogy of The Dark Knight, they neglected the psychological study of the iconic DC face. But have you ever heard of them call Batman depressed?
