'Batman Begins - The Bildungsroman movie that people deserved' or 'Harap-Alb as Batman?! Surely you jest...'

'Just some nut'.

Hey, remember that time I wrote a post on The Dark Knight? It's only the post with the most views on this blog, about one of the best movies to have come out of the noughties. 

Oh, you don't?

Oh, you've never read this blog?

Oh, you've read it, but you thought it was utter drivel?

Ah, well, that explains it, then. That particular post is three years old anyway, so its 'success' probably has something to do with the 'Batman' and 'Dark Knight' tags, because I can apparently predict the future and in no way have I just realised the usefulness of post tags just now.

Ahem, it's been a long time coming, but I want to focus on Batman Begins today. Having rewatched it recently for the first time in two or three years, I thought it'd be a good time to finally talk about it. Truth be told, as much as I love The Dark Knight Trilogy, the fact that I had watched both BB and TDK a bazillion times by 2012 kind of took its toll, in the sense that I felt like I had exhausted myself when it came to these movies - essentially, oversaturating yourself on good things is a fact of life (whatever that means). In any case, that's my 'excuse'; nobody cares about that, so let's get into it.

It might be a weird starting point for a post focusing on BB, but the latter is more or less completely blown out of the water by TDK, its first sequel (less so to not really by its other sequel, The Dark Knight Rises). On the other hand, TDK does that with every other superhero flick released up until this point imo, so there's that. Then again, without BB - and I don't mean just the movie on its own, its commercial and critical success, as well as its status as the starting point for the story presented in this trilogy, there would be no TDK. Of course, there are still other people who simply prefer BB to TDK as a Batman movie, but the reason I've made this point right at the start of this post is because despite TDK being an improvement on it in almost every sense, BB still stands on its own as a quite remarkable achievement, both in terms of its place in the superhero genre, as well as its place in a wider cinematic context.

For one, it was BB which started this trend in Hollywood of rebooting franchises whenever they hit a dead end (in other words, whenever they stop making a fuckton of money). The problem is that more often than not it seems that what Hollywood understood from BB's critical and commercial success can be summed up in the following rather crude terms: "Hey, we know that last movie in the franchise really disappointed you and all, but we're restarting it with another origin story, which is totally not the same as the one we showed you before, despite it being the same character's origin story. Oh, did we mention that we got different actors to play the parts? Oh, and also, we're making the main character edgy and brooding, despite their origins. You guys love Batman, right?". *cue the third Spider-Man reboot in the space of 10-15 years*. Okay, that was not as crude as I was originally planning and went on for longer than I would've wanted, but I digress.

The first overall aspect you notice about BB is that, much like the other two films in the trilogy, it works on several levels; in BB's case, you've probably got three or four levels - it functions quite flawlessly as an origin story, it's a very good superhero movie and, in broader cinematic terms, it can also be viewed as a rather surprisingly grounded story about the resilience of the human spirit. And finally, you've got the overarching level of a Batman movie, not a genre in itself of course, but considering that there had been several Batman movies released by the time BB got made, there were definitely grounds on which to properly judge it as such. Origin story-wise, it has shades of a bildungsroman (aspects which I will be focusing on during this analysis, in case the title wasn't self-explanatory), especially once Bruce Wayne sets out on his path of exploring and attempting to understand the criminal world. It is interesting that the character who sets Wayne on this path is mob boss Carmine Falcone (played by the scenery chewing and scene stealing Tom Wilkinson of Rock'n'Rolla fame), who points out that as a result of his status as 'Gotham's favoured son' and bonafide rich boy, Bruce has no real understanding of the concepts of desperation and fear. Falcone can, as such, be viewed as one of Wayne's mentors in the context of a bildungsroman structure. Of course, it's worth delving into the reasons for why Wayne seeks out Gotham's biggest mob boss for, ahem, 'spiritual advice'. He's not necessarily a mentor in the traditional sense, but his influence is rather crucial. And, of course, he's basically the first 'bad guy' Batman beats up, the first trial, as it were, on his hero journey (yay character progression!!), whereby beats up means applying a headbutt after terrifying the shit out of him. A Batman staple, to be sure.

This being a Batman (origin) story, the events are basically set in motion by the murder of young Wayne's parents in front of his eyes by random mugger, Joe Chill (who is also the leader of the White Walkers in Game of Thrones, because of course he is). It's rather refreshing that the scene in question is not dragged on too much for dramatic purposes and indeed, it's not really referenced directly anywhere else in the trilogy. Point is, his parents were fucking murdered in front of him when he was a kid, of course it's going to traumatise him for the rest of his life and, as such, there's not really much point bringing up the event repeatedly in order to reestablish what's already been established. Having said that, it is given its due importance seeing as it's clearly emphasised as being the event that triggers Wayne's journey towards becoming the Batman. It also leads to one of the many genuine emotional moments that this trilogy does so well - in this case, it's the moment where young cop James Gordon (played by Gary Oldman) comforts young Bruce Wayne by putting a coat around his shoulders 'to let him know the world hadn't ended'. There's a lot of symbolism going on even at this early stage in the trilogy - for example, unlike other movies which show us our protagonist as a child in order to...well, I'm not exactly sure why; just because heroes were kids too, I guess? (I'm looking at you Phanton Menace and Amazing Spider-Man), the scenes of young Bruce Wayne in BB actually serve a purpose; the most pertinent of these, the one where he falls down into the well and is swarmed by bats, is representative for Bruce's emotional struggle throughout this trilogy, as he's essentially stuck in that well, psychologically speaking, for almost the entire duration of the overarching story - in this sense, it's significant that it is only with his father's help that Bruce can get out of the well as a child (come to think of it, didn't Harap-Alb fall into a well in John Branch's original tale too?). It's no coincidence that this is the first scene in BB and, consequently, in the trilogy, as it's the start of Bruce Wayne's arch as a character (something the character's never really had on film before). I've also always enjoyed the 'Why do we fall? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up' line - it's cheesy, yes, but it also concurrently serves as another prevalent theme throughout the trilogy. It's also quietly significant in its first iteration (it's what Thomas Wayne tells young Bruce after rescuing him from the well) because this is a family of rich people we're talking about here - you would have thought they would come up with something along the lines of 'Let's get you to the emergency room as quickly as possible, money will ensure that we're first in line' or maybe even something like 'Shrug it off kid, it's no big deal'. It's of course important to point out that Thomas Wayne's an actual doctor, but we get a hint of what sort of upbringing Bruce had been receiving from this particular line of dialogue - instead of pampering and spoiling him or, even worse, ignoring him altogether, there's an encouragement towards accepting his mistake and learning from it, thereby finding the inner strength to overcome hardship on his own.

By now, it should be clear that there's a lot of humanising going on with the Bruce Wayne character in this movie - one particular touch which I enjoy is that the twenty something Wayne, having returned to Gotham, tries to take justice into his own hands and attempts to shoot his parents' murderer. Which, you know, if you think about it, is a totally human reaction to having your parents shot down in front of your eyes as a child. I appreciate that this aspect is not glossed over, since it's one of the things that makes the character relatable - which is important both in terms of  this being an origin story, where it's crucial for the audience to be invested in the character's arch, as well as in the wider context of this being a rebooted Batman story, which was following in the wake of the unmitigated trainwreck that was Batman & Robin. The scene in question also leads to another iconic Batman moment within the movie, namely the scene where Wayne emphatically discards the gun he was about to kill his parents' murderer with (quick clarification, the latter is actually murdered by a hired gun working for the aforementioned Falcone). Beforehand, there's also a shining moment for the much-maligned character of Rachel Dawes (played by Katie Holmes in this movie), who underlines the difference between justice and revenge to Bruce, as well as going ahead and literally slapping some sense into him after he reveals the gun he was going to use on Joe Chill. Rachel, of course, is another one of Bruce's mentors in the context of the bildungsroman discourse. She's also, rather ham-fistedly, his love interest in the movie, which doesn't really work here, but they do turn it around in subsequent movies where it's pretty clearly established that Bruce had idealised her as being both representative of his life before the tragedy of his parents' murder (given that they were childhood friends), as well as a means of returning to the aforementioned life. This, of course, does not sound like a healthy relationship at all and this is what subsequent movies establish in broad terms - in this sense, the whole Bruce-Rachel angle does work as a sort of anti-relationship which was never going to work on romantic terms, which sets these movies even further apart from your usual comic book movie romance, where the hero almost invariably seems to be on a 'romantic' collision course with the first female character he's being chummy with.

Since this movie doesn't end abruptly with our hero finally on the path towards becoming Batman, this post will go on for a while longer, despite being of quite significant length already. There are, of course, several other mentor figures throughout Bruce's journey during this movie - the most prominent of which is Henri Ducard aka Ra's al Ghul, if you haven't indulged in rock-dwelling for the past ten years. Played rather fittingly by Liam Neeson and being the leader of a secret group of ninjas bent on bringing balance to the world, the character is probably Wayne's harshest mentor, putting forth the notion that it was a lack of conviction which prevented Bruce's father from stopping the mugger who murdered him and his wife during one of several excellent scenes from this movie (it kind of gets forgotten that BB has its own share of epic and quite powerful scenes, considering the usual prevalence of TDK and TDKR). The particular scene I'm referring to is the duel that takes place on the ice, but the extended scene featured in the link does a good job of demonstrating why Ra's is not simply being a dick to Bruce for the sake of it - his argument has merit and it's also meant to help Bruce focus and channel his anger and guilt into something greater: strength in both mind and body ('Why do we feel anger and hate? So that we can channel them into POWAAAAHHH!! UNNNNNLIMITEEED POWAAAAH!!!'). Um, sorry, wrong movie there. Moreover, Ra's is the one who plants the seeds for this universe's iteration of Batman's mission - Gotham is depicted as a decadent mess, mired by corruption at almost every level of society, so much so that the 'good people' of the city see no viable way of upsetting the established order; as such, the Batman is meant as an incorruptible symbol of hope, something which transcends the mere trappings of mortals (as dramatic as that sounds - literally), meant to inspire the people of Gotham out of their apathy in order to take control of their city. 'A dramatic example', if you will. Of course, Ra's' own plans for Gotham entail upsetting the status quo as well, but in a much more extreme manner, whereby the city and its people will be destroyed so as to allow them to rise from their own ashes, born anew, without all the 'benefits' of the aforementioned corruption. It's here that the conflict with the future Batman is cemented - it's good vs evil, sure, but it's more muddled than most iterations of the conflict and, at its core, it's ideological: Ra's essentially considers that society can only be truly cured of corruption if it starts from scratch, that its people have time and again proved that they cannot overcome corruption on their own and, as such, require a 'little push' from an outside source; while, on the other side, Batman/Bruce Wayne has faith in the people of the city and their ability to enact change, should they be provided with a symbol of hope to get them moving in the right direction and act on their impulses. In other words, their views do not sound so different at first glance. It is of course quite clear that Batman himself represents an external influence in this context and, moreover, one who operates outside the law (Batman is a complex, elitist prick like that). And yet that is the crux of the conflict, the manner in which the two characters seek to accomplish their goals - Batman trusts in the people, but not necessarily in the system, while Ra's trusts in neither.

Of course, if you've been paying attention so far, Bruce Wayne's faith in people doesn't come out of nowhere in this movie - it's a result of the influence his other mentors have had on him throughout his life. We've already mentioned an aspect of the (rather) brief upbringing he receives from his parents, whereby onus and faith is placed on the individual's ability to learn from their mistakes and 'pick themselves up' in their aftermath. It's also notable to point out that the Waynes are not your typical rich people either - in their brief time on screen, it's established that Bruce's parents are quite the philanthropists, using their wealth and influence to help Gotham. They even receive praise in this sense from the fanatical ninja leader himself. High praise indeed. I've also pointed out how Jim Gordon provides hope through the simple, yet compassionate act of placing a coat around young Bruce's shoulders in the aftermath of his parents' murder in an attempt to comfort him. One would be severely amiss not to mention Wayne's faithful butler in this context as well - played by the ever-present (in Nolan movies) Michael Caine, Alfred Pennyworth serves as Bruce's moral compass throughout the trilogy, as well as a surrogate father figure. In this sense, he's not as blunt as Ra's with his criticisms, but he's not one to hold back on them either, whenever Wayne seems to be getting lost in the monster that is his Batman persona or whenever he genuinely fucks up (character development, yay!!). That being said, he understands what the Batman represents for Bruce and, as such, helps him however he can in his endeavours under the guise of the former. But, perhaps most importantly, he nevah' loses faith in the man who is his son in all but blood. It's these moments in Bruce Wayne's coming of age (here, have this scene as well, it's quintessential Alfred) that basically ensure he's not a total cynical prick by the time he becomes an adult and, subsequently, Batman. As we've established, he's not a complete idealist either - the mere fact that he creates the Batman persona is proof of this, but it makes for a complex character and really, this is one of the major strengths of Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy, that it taps into the potential of the Batman character in this manner. It's why they felt and still feel so fresh in the wider context of the ever-growing superhero movie genre.

I keep underlining or otherwise alluding to the fact that character development is a staple of these movie (and, by extension, the trilogy proper), so let's cite some specific examples as well. Some of the examples might come across as character progression instead of full-on development, but it's worth pointing them out, nonetheless. In one of his first outings in the movie, Batman does some nice detective work and tracks down a stash of drugs concocted by one Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow (aka the mesmerising Cillian Murphy) - everything goes well for our beloved bat vigilante: he successfully infiltrates the hideout where the drugs are located, knocks out some mooks by using the shadows to his advantage, you know, your usual Batman routine. This is until the good Dr Crane gets the jump on him, dousing him with a more than healthy dose of his infamous fear gas, before proceeding to set the Batman on fire, but not before spouting a pretty bitchin' one liner - here, take a look (seriously, I'm pretty sure all the villains in this trilogy have bitchin' one liners at one point or another; Batman has his share as well). It's pretty jarring to see Batman set on fire - I know I was taken aback first time I saw the movie, but the whole point of the sequence is to indicate that he's still new to the whole bat vigilante thing. Again, he's treated as a character, a flawed one at that, who underestimates the threat posed by the least physically imposing member of the three man group he takes on in the aforementioned hideout. It goes without saying at this point, but it makes him relatable - I mean, how many times have any of us underestimated a nerd who proceeded to set us on fire, amirite? Not very good jokes aside, it further humanises Batman/Bruce Wayne as a character.  Alfred is, of course, on hand to pick up the spoiled rich guy who dresses up as a bat at night in order to punch criminals with his bare hands and take him home, while Lucius Fox (played by non other than Morgan Freeman) concocts an antidote for the effects of the fear toxin. And now, for the character progression (!!!) - when Batman confronts Dr Crane and his goons a second time later on in the movie, this time at Arkham Asylum, he meticulously takes out each mook, before turning the tables on the good doctor by dousing him with his own fear gas, before proceeding to make the latter crap his pants for good measure. And, of course, he delivers his own one liner to boot. It's quite cool and satisfying to see, especially in light of his initial failure against Scarecrow.

Perhaps the more dramatic (and debatable, at that) example of character progression comes in the scene where Batman defeats Ra's al Ghul, who is bent on having Gotham 'tear itself apart through fear' (watch the movie to see what that entails, scene in question is here). It's the manner in which he defeats him which is interesting and rather controversial in terms of the Batman character - he essentially leaves Ra's to die on the train, which you know, considering Batman's much vaunted no killing rule, is equatable to heresy. But here's the thing, it's a morally grey decision instead of a purely dark one, as it might seem at first. In this sense, it requires context: it's important to keep in mind (and I've only noticed this on my latest viewings of the movie) that Ra's sabotages the train's controls by stabbing his sword through them when Batman tries to stop the train himself at the beginning of their fight. This distinction is important in light of Batman's line to Ra's before leaving him to die with the train - 'I won't kill you, but I don't have to save you' (because you fucked up the controls yourself and also, I've saved your life once and look where that got me). It also establishes that Batman is not there to outright kill Ra's - his plan, although not outright stated in the movie, seems to have been to manually stop the train and, failing that, have Gordon destroy the rails as a failsafe. He probably didn't count on Ra's stabbing his fucking sword through the controls in an act of fanaticism, but then again, it's an act which is consistent with the latter's characterisation in the movie. It's still rather jarring to see Batman do this, especially on first viewing, but to be frank, the 100% no killing rule has always seemed too idealistic and goody two shoes to me - it's basically a staple of the so-called 'Batgod' from the comics and from the cartoons who can essentially do anything and beat anyone (including Superman) with enough prep time and who's not really a character with an arch for that matter. Not to mention, Batman has killed at different points in the character's history (here, have some Cracked as proof). In any case, I bring this up as character development because it's a rather emphatic 'apprentice surpassing the master' moment - Ra's repeatedly points out to Bruce that he 'lacks the courage to do what is necessary' (true conviction, in other words, aka 'veritable cojones'), while also harping about how compassion is such a big weakness at various points in the movie. So for Batman to turn the tables on his mentor and demonstrate that he does indeed have the conviction to make a decision like this, just not in the manner Ra's had taught him to (it's quite neatly summed up in Ra's reaction in light of Batman's decision; thank you, Liam Neeson), as well as in light of his saving the latter at an earlier point in the movie, is a triumphant moment in the character's growth over the course of this movie. Predictably, the scene also serves as a crowning bildungsroman moment too, whereby the protagonist demonstrates a new-found maturity - a 'coming of age' moment, to be sure, one of the staples of the genre. Yes, it's a morally grey decision, but in light of what happens in the movie, namely Ra's returning to attack Gotham after Bruce had saved him earlier on, as well as Ra's' destruction of the train's controls, it's not really something which can be held against our protagonist. I could also argue that it's actually the measure of a true hero to be able to make such morally grey decisions (which is why I liked Superman snapping General Zod's neck in Man of Steel as well), but that's probably a subject best left for a separate, ahem,  'fucking long post'.

So now that I've basically spoiled this movie for our rock-dwelling crowd out there, it's waaay past high-time I concluded this post. I really can't do so, though, without a few words about Nolan's Batman/Bruce Wayne himself, Christian Bale. I believe I've mentioned all of the more prominent actors in the movie until now, but it really can't be stressed enough just how good a casting choice Bale was in the context of the version of Batman that Nolan was attempting to sell with these movies - a flawed and human character, to be sure, but a remarkably driven and gifted one at that. Bale sells all three distinct facets of the character pretty flawlessly - the genuine Bruce Wayne persona we only get to see in the presence of Alfred or Rachel, characterised by a quiet intensity specific to Bale, the playboy Bruce facade he puts on in public (which he's perfect for, considering his previous role as Patrick Bateman in American Psycho), as well as the pure rage and anger which drives his Batman persona. The latter, I feel, has received the most scrutiny among fans and critics alike (more often than not because of the voice he uses, although his take on it is at its best and most consistent here in BB), while his take on Bruce Wayne has received many plaudits for being the best version put on screen so far (most notably his turn in TDKR). The playboy facade seems to be taken for granted more often than not, but there's a lot of neat little acting moments throughout the scenes where Bruce is putting the facade on which really sell just how good of an actor both Bale and his character are - for example, the non-chalant 'What's that?' and facial expression which accompanies it here, as well as the line + facial expression combos here (at 0:07 and 1:02, respectively). It's interesting to note that during his conversations with Lucius about the gadgets he acquires from him, he oftentimes transitions to his genuine persona, showing yet another different side to Bruce Wayne, namely the man who genuinely gets a kick and a veritable release out of being Batman, the closest thing to the notion of 'fun' he will probably ever get (well, apart from nailing Marion Cotillard and Anne Hathaway in TDKR, as well as the numerous models he dates throughout the trilogy, but that's neither here, nor there). The fact that all these nuances come through in Bale's performance in this movie is a testament to his acting chops, as well as his suitability to Nolan's vision of Batman. I'm not really sure any other actor could've sold the character and his arch throughout these movies so well.

And that just about brings things to a conclusion - despite being overshadowed by TDK, and sometimes by TDKR, Batman Begins is a great movie on its own. While I have endeavoured to focus on its bildungsroman elements here, some of the aspects I've brought to the fore in this analysis go some way towards establishing its quality as both a comic book superhero movie, as well as a drama, thriller and action movie all at once. Besides, there have been plenty of analyses on the latter two aspects anyway (you'll have to find them on your own, of course). In general movie terms let's call them, it's got very good pacing I feel (as do the other two Nolan Batman movies), a pretty flawless cast and performances, including a more than worthy villain in Liam Neeson's Ra's al Ghul (even Katie Holmes is pretty solid), great cinematography, as well as a soundtrack which represents a fine example of how to compliment a movie's tone and feel seamlessly, while also standing on its own to boot (great work by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard, in other words). It would be amiss not to also mention that all the heavy thematic aspects of the movie, as well as the darker, moodier nature of the story, are counterbalanced by some well-timed humour as well, usually provided by deadpan snarkers supreme Alfred and Lucius Fox, but Bruce Wayne has his moments too in this sense. One other aspect I will touch upon is the heroes beside Batman who are featured in the movie - they're not main characters of course, but it can't be argued that Oldman's Jim Gordon (the lone good cop fighting against the odds within an impossibly corrupt system), Caine's aforementioned Alfred (the surrogate father figure and moral compass our hero can always rely upon) and Holmes' Rachel Dawes (the incorruptible Assistant D.A.) come across as heroic in this movie in one way or another. They're the good people of Gotham which are referenced throughout the movie who render Batman's fight and struggle worthwhile. They're also the friends he claims he does not have the luxury of, alongside Morgan Freem....errrmmm, Lucius Fox, of course.

And to cap it all off, we have the ending of the movie, which is uncanny in the way it conforms to the following: "The bildungsroman traditionally ends on a positive note, though its action may be tempered by resignation and nostalgia". Well, I wouldn't exactly call Gordon's pointing out of the flipside to Batman's crusade against crime 'resignation', but I digress. The ending is pretty flawless in that it can act as both the perfect sendoff for a standalone Batman movie, as well as the perfect note to leave open the possibility of a sequel. And I've always loved Gordon's hope-filled look just before the end - the Batman effect, in full bloom.

Ahem, addendum: Poetry in Motion

'A silent guardian, a watchful protector', anyone?

'Shifting Perspectives in The Naughties' or 'That sounds waaaaaay too academical for this blog ... right?!'

Bloody hell, it's been a long time, hasn't it?

...

Ummm, hello?

...

Anyone?

...

Oh yeah, it's only been almost two full years. Not as long as I'd thought, now that I actually consider the amount of time that's passed since the last post. Hmm, 'The Dark Knight' post seems to be doing quite well, judging by its numbers. Kind of surprising, but not really, when you consider it's one of the biggest movies to have hit the so-called 'noughties'. Come to think of it, why the fuck to they call them the 'noughties' anyway? It's always struck me as kind of random and funny - I mean, you've got the 'seventies', 'eighties', 'nineties' and then...the 'noughties'. If that's not coming across as the odd one out, I don't know what is. Still, why the fuck are they called the 'noughties'?!

Oh, what's that you say Wikipedia? The name is derived from the term 'nought', which actually makes sense? Off to a great (re)start, aren't I?

Anyway, before I get lost in the throes of my own randomness...it's an interesting experience coming back to the blog after (not) so long. Mind-blowing, I know. It's weird in that you realize that even though it's not been that long, you're kind of a different person to the one who rambled on, rather vitriolically, about some random Black Eyed Peas lyrics and about the fickleness of the Arctic Monkeys fandom. And yet, here I am, almost two years later and after seeing Arctic Monkeys live (yes, I'm bragging, shush) at the height of the 'AM' era, missing the rawness and...hmm, well this is rather peculiar. Usually, it's the other way around, but this time I actually have a Romanian term which suits the notion I'm looking for perfectly, namely 'zdranganeala' - I miss that aspect of the Arctic Monkeys' music, something which was featured prominently in their earlier work.

To understand what the fuck I'm trying to say here, listen to 'My Propeller' performed live in 2014 and then to a live version from back in 2009. Here, I'll do it with you, out of pure kindness of heart, seeing as I've done this before a bazillion times. Probably.

So yeah, interesting how things like that happen sometimes - I'd call it 'ironic', but I'm not really sure this would classify and well, I'm no Alanis Morissette, if that wasn't clear already. Anyway, these musings on differing perspectives and feeling like a different person from the one you were a few years ago remind me of one of Dr. House's (Hugh Laurie, for those of you who indulge in rock-dwelling as a pastime) most famous lines - 'people never change'...or was it 'people don't change'? Point is, I may very likely be paraphrasing. And well, as obstinate as Dr. House was in his beliefs, people do change, at least in my experience. When you think of the term 'change', you usually think of something earth-shattering and 180-y (I have a way with words, I know), but with people it's something a tad more subtle - we do change, but it's more like an 'addendum', an extra layer or layers. I'd call it evolution, but that's probably not the case for some individuals. And that's just the thing, at the end of the day, it's the willingness and openness of the individual towards accepting and adding that extra layer or layers which is key, which makes us who we are. I guess.

I'm not really sure what the actual point of all that was, but it seemed pertinent to talk about shifting and changing perspectives after (almost) two full years away (I've only hit you over the head with that bit of info 3 or 4 times by now) from something I was really passionate about at some point.

And well, 'noughties' definitely sounds bloody better than "Ohs", "Oh Ohs" or "Ooze" now, doesn't it?

Update, April 12th: Of course, I did forget to include a musical moment of the day yesterday, so I'll just go ahead and do it now - today's moment comes from the rambunctious Findlay, whose young career is blossoming nicely if I do say so myself: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9j_sQH9sFM

Additionally, I've stumbled upon the following article, a good read if you're looking for a more thought-provoking insight into 'the noughties' as a whole.

"Their early stuff was their best, so why bother?" or Since when have growth and progress become something to scoff at? (also, new font!!)

WARNING: Fucking Long Post Up Ahead (probably longer than The Dark Knight post, as well...heh, who would've figured, right?)

I'm going to skip the usual filler that precedes my first post in a long time, seeing as it would probably get repetitive by now to reflect on the reasons for why I haven't written something in quite a while. Suffice to say, real-life commitments take precedence over a goddamn blog (no matter how dear it and its readers are to me). Also, holy shit, I haven't written anything in like half a year. Since Christmas, actually.


Now, if you've not been living under a rock for the past month or so, you're likely aware of the fact that Arctic Monkeys (a contemporary British rock band for our stone-dwelling friends) have released a new single, called "Do I Wanna Know?". And by God, it's fucking awesome! The song had been premiered during one of their live shows this year, some two or three months back I believe, and being the ardent AM (which btw, is the title of their next album, their 5th, to be released in September) fan that I am, I was of course not patiently looking forward to a studio version of the song. You can probably imagine that I went bonkers once I had found out that the song had finally been officially released. The song is just pure sex, plain and simple. Probably one of the first things that crossed my mind after listening to it for about five times was "hot damn, I could definitely see some pretty ladies getting naked to this" - this latter impression was probably also brought upon by the not-so-subtle video accompanying the song (here's a link btw, for those of you who weren't compelled to look for it by themselves after hearing the words 'ladies' and 'naked' in the same phrase: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpOSxM0rNPM).

The song is, for me (as an avid Queens of the Stone Age fan, also), a bit like the love child of "Go With The Flow" and "Make It Wit Chu". But I digress - you can probably figure out the reasoning behind my view, if you're familiar with both this latest AM song, as well as the two aforementioned QOTSA songs. Beyond the rather superficial reasons I have for liking the song, there are of course the great instrumental and vocals. Those guitar riffs that accompany the chorus are just like the epitome of badass and sexy at the same time. It's even better with practically all of the band members (save Jamie Cook, as far as I can hear) joining in on the vocal side of things. Alex Turner's voice is still the one that shines through of course (he is the goddamn vocalist of the band, after all), but it's obvious that having Matt Helders and Nick O'Malley singing backing vocals on this song works a treat. The lyrics themselves aren't the most profound you'll find, but they don't need to be when they have the kind of vocal/instrumental backdrop that they do. I do like the meta-reference in one of the lyrics - "'Cause there's this tune I've found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat". Alex Turner can apparently predict the future, the sly bastard. So it's pretty clear what the song's lyrics are about and I do like that some of the band's more recent songs seem to be about the inevitability of a man falling for a woman and the things that make that happen ("The Blond-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap" comes to mind in this sense, as well). This is, of course, not rendered in a way akin to, say, a certain pop singer whose surname happens to be the name of a planet and whose lack of testicles is painfully obvious. But, I digress...again. What I mean to say is that this homage to the innate female ability of twisting a man's mind, of delving deep into his psyche and replacing almost all rational thought with...well, you know with what, has always been one of the staples of rock 'n' roll music. At least to me. I honestly feel that bitching guitar riffs and guitar moans provide the perfect backdrop for this sort of homage - I think there's this sort of kinship at a primeval and visceral level between the sounds produced by an electric guitar and the chemistry that goes on between a man and a woman. In simpler and less ambiguous terms (because by now, you're probably thinking 'What the fuck is he saying?'), rock songs provide the perfect platform for talking about the inner-workings of attraction. Not sex, attraction. I mean, sure, there are a lot of rock songs about sex, but you know...let's leave a little bit to the imagination, shall we?

And I've now realised that I've gone way off course with this post. Suffice to say that I think that "Do I Wanna Know?" is another AM song (part of a growing list at that) that proves just how much the boys have matured and improved as musicians over the years and through the release of their albums. What's interesting about Arctic Monkeys albums, is that you can't really say that any two of them are really similar. I mean, sure, "Favourite Worst Nightmare" has way more in common with "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not" than "Suck It See", and the latter will most certainly have more in common with "AM" than with the first two. And god knows when they'll release something similar to "Humbug" again. The point is, they're all Arctic Monkeys records, in different ways. You've also got the constants of their music - Turner's unique style of writing/singing, not to mention the distinctive Sheffield accent, which he's never actually lost, despite claims that they've slowly gone 'American' on us; you have Helder's awesome work behind the drums and Nick's always sound and solid bass work; Jamie is, I suppose, the most discreet among them, but there are many who look at him as something akin to the band's secret weapon. There's also this unique sound in their guitars, I can't quite pin down (although I'll try and fail miserably), more like a nuance than anything else - it's probably got something to do with the instruments themselves and how they have them set up or something, but I'm by no means an expert in the field (if you couldn't tell from the 'scientific' way I was talking about these aspects), so I can't be sure. It is notable to me, that that particular nuance in their guitar work is present throughout most everything they've done, including their most recent work, which is more heavy-sounding and more refined. But for me, it's always been there and will probably never go away.


So you're probably wondering by now, what is the point of this post, apart from a justification of my fanboyism towards this band. It's got to do with a rather tiresome trend I've noticed, when it comes to their new releases. You always have a few people who claim things like 'nothing can surpass their first and/or second album' or 'I miss the OLD AM' and things like that. And look, I can understand that some people prefer only a part of their discography for various reasons (including nostalgia) and that's fine, it's got to do with subjectivity. But I don't really think that it's fair to objectively claim that their early stuff is better than their new stuff...I mean, come on. Like I said earlier, I understand the preference, but their evolution from dancey songs about nights out in clubs to singing about the inner-workings of attraction is clearly progress. I mean, even if you don't perceive the latter aspect as I do, on the technical side of things, it's clear they've grown immensely - from a garagey, rather all over the place sound at their beginnings, to a much more crisp and refined heavy rock sound at present. And it's not like this gradual evolution didn't start from "FWN" anyway. Just listen to some of the tracks on their EP's during that period ("Bad Woman", "What If You Were Right First Time?", not to mention "Brianstorm" on the aforementioned LP proper). I swear, if you'd take it from some people, you'd think that they should have just carried on with the style and themes of their first albums, progress and evolution as musicians be damned. 


I mean, since when have the two latter concepts suddenly become associated with something negative? Again, if you don't enjoy the direction they've taken, it's fine, but when I hear things like 'They should have given up after their first album' it just boggles my mind. Newsflash, people! This is a band that's always willing to try out something new, while retaining what makes them unique. It would've been easy for them to just churn out WPSIATWIN's or FWN's one after the other, essentially doing it for the money/selling their souls to the devil. But they didn't, they've tried something new with each album, basically re-inventing themselves constantly. I can't help but respect and admire that. And you know what? It's not like the changes occurred over night - remember, it's been 7 goddamn years since their first album. Their growth has been a very natural and organic process. It's also coincided with them maturing into men. So again, it shouldn't be a surprise to absolutely anybody who's actually followed the band throughout the years. I also think it's not really fair to judge a new release based on the merits of previous releases - I think it's a sign of close-mindedness and of being "blinded by nostalgia" (to borrow a phrase from Turner) to be disappointed by something new because it's not akin to something old. I mean, sure, be disappointed by it, but judge it on its own goddamn merits. This is why I can understand why so many people were turned off by "Humbug", their third studio album - it's clear that they were at their most 'experimentally' when making that album. I personally like it, it's wacky, it's different, it's them pushing their musical abilities to the limits. It's probably my favourite of their releases for precisely the latter reasons and I think I also cherish it more because it's probably going to be a while before they release something like that again. But I do appreciate that people who don't like it generally base their reasons for their dislike on the merits of the album itself and not those of its predecessors.


Poor "Suck It And See", itself an organic and pretty balanced culmination of their three previous efforts, almost always gets derided for distancing itself too much from the two first releases. I mean, sure, it's not a perfect album by any means and it's got a bit too many ballads on it for my taste, but their growth, progress and coming of age as musicians comes through very clearly, both through Turner's lyrics (in songs such as "Love Is A Laserquest" and "Piledriver Waltz") and through the crisp and refined nature of the guitar work ("Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair" is an excellent example, in this sense). Songs such as "R U Mine?", "You and I" (feat. Richard Hawley) and now "Do I Wanna Know?" serve to consolidate the fact that they've really become a fully-fledged rock band by now. And I suspect AM will do much the same. Also, if you're still delusional and under the impression that Alex Turner himself has somehow claimed that their first two releases were their best, listen to this interview with the man himself and come back to earth, for fuck's sake: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfwa6_72GeY.


Alright, so in hindsight, I probably should have added a "fucking long post" tag to this baby (*proceeds to do so*). I suspect I shouldn't be surprised that Arctic Monkeys are probably one of the few subjects that can trigger more prolific writing than The Dark Knight/Batman, seeing as they're practically my favourite band. The longness of this post also probably has to do with the change in font, but I digress (I really need to stop abusing that phrase). Speaking of Batman-related posts, they'll be making their return soon enough - I just need to see the TDK trilogy in its entirety again, so I can gather up my thoughts and musings. There's really no other way of ending this post than with this: Revel in the badass/sexy melange of that guitar work (you know you want to).

'Decent men in an indecent time' (a.k.a. WARNING: Fucking Long Post Up Ahead)

Okay, so most of you should definitely recognise the picture at the top of this post. If you don't, then you should definitely go and watch The Dark Knight. It's not too late for you. Anyway, spoilers beckon is what I'm trying to say.

So yes, it's finally here - the first part of my series on Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy and I will start with what's widely considered the crème de la crème of this movie series, 2008's The Dark Knight or TDK for short. Now, there's a lot of ways to view this movie, all of them valid to varying degrees: the epic struggle between Batman and his arch-nemesis the Joker, a pertinent social/political commentary, a crime drama that just happens to feature Batman or the movie that transcended the superhero genre. You could even describe it as the story of how a guy dressed up as a bat tries to stop a homicidal clown, if you're feeling cheeky. In short, it's a movie with a lot of layers to it and as a guy who likes being given food for thought by the movies he watches (read, hipster), this film is at the very top of the list of my all-time favourites. The multi-faceted nature of it also makes it a bitch to write about seeing as I could really just go on and on about it and it would probably take up at least two blog posts (consisting of at least 1000 words each). But it's Christmas, so I will have pity on you. Consider it a gift. This particular post will probably still be fucking long though.

I will attempt to look at the film through a prism that I don't think has been talked about as much as others, although considering how vast the Internet is, I'm probably very wrong. Anyway, enough with the cryptic blabbering, what I'm trying to say is that The Dark Knight is a paradoxical movie (in a good way). In more ways than one. Many people view it as the quintessential Batman movie and I remember hearing a lot of folks saying back in 2008 that 'this is the way Batman should be!'. And it's hard to argue with that: Bruce Wayne spends most of his screen time in the batsuit; all of the main aspects of the Batman character are emphasised (to varying degrees), from his colossal ability to kick ass to his detective skills, to his remarkable ability to appear/disappear out of/into thin air. And then you also have the presence of Batman's most iconic villain, the Joker, who puts the 'essential' into 'quintessential'. Despite this, it's interesting to note that TDK is such a thorough deconstruction of the idea of Batman it's not even funny. For one, everything bad that happens in the movie is basically his fault. The Joker is a direct response to Batman's extreme and theatrical brand of vigilantism, he is the embodiment of the 'escalation' police commissioner Jim Gordon was talking about at the end of Batman Begins (or BB - the subject of my next post), and he goes on to terrorise the city and blow up a lot of crap throughout the movie, including Batman's girlfriend (yes, I know that sounds funny), not to mention turning Gotham's citizenship against him. The villain even mentions this dynamic at various points in the movie: 'you complete me' and 'this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object' he says to Batman, as Bruce comes to see the madness he's brought upon the city ('I was meant to inspire good, not madness, not death'). To top it off, Bruce initially dismisses the threat posed by the Joker, gravely underestimating him with a casual 'Criminals aren't complicated' line (which is a nice throwback to Ra's Al-Ghul's philosophy back in Batman Begins). What's more, the only 'good' that Batman seems to inspire amongst the citizens is a bunch of idiots dressed in hockey pads (note: Batman does not wear hockey pads) who can't even fight for their lives and use guns. So in other words, a perversion of Batman himself.

Then we have Harvey Dent, whose character is in direct contrast with Batman - he is the hero with a face that Gotham's citizens look up to, the one who battles corruption and criminality as ruthlessly as Batman, but within the boundaries of the law. If the parallels weren't clear enough, both Batman and Dent are directly referred to as Gotham's 'Dark Knight' and 'White Knight' respectively. So it's clear that Batman's presence in Gotham is practically redundant with Harvey Dent around (Bruce recognises this). But this all becomes moot by the end of the movie, as the latter is corrupted by the Joker and becomes the murderous vigilante Two-Face. In other words, Batman is indirectly responsible for Dent's fall as well, seeing as how the Joker is a direct response to the former's brand of vigilante justice. In the end, Batman can only defeat the villain by turning to morally dubious and desperate methods, such as spying on the entire city and creating a lie in order to preserve Dent's reputation in the eyes of Gotham's citizens.

There's this undeniable air of cynicism to the movie and it's brought about by aspects such as the hero bringing copious amounts of grief, inadvertently of course, upon the city he aims to protect. This is again pointed out by a character in the movie, namely Jim Gordon's wife, who exclaims: 'You brought this craziness on us, you did!'. This cynicism is blatantly spelled out through the Joker's philosophy, which he details in that famous interrogation scene: 'When the chips are down, these uh, these 'civilised' people, they'll eat each other'. So basically, what he's saying is that society is inherently flawed and that shitty circumstances will bring out the worst in people (also, if given the chance, people will fuck each other up). In other words, 'deep down, everyone's as ugly as him' and he sets out to prove just that through his ferry experiment. Towards the end of the movie, he has two ferries (one filled with ordinary citizens, the other with criminals) rigged with explosives. The catch is that he hands each group of passengers the detonator to the other boat's explosives thereby putting the people's fate in their own hands. Of course, he also keeps another detonator for himself so as to actually give the boats a reason to want to blow each other up (he details his entire plan over the ferries' loudspeakers). The ferry scene has been criticised by some viewers for its rather overtly dramatic execution, but the truth is that it's an essential sequence and one of the only genuine rays of light in an otherwise very cynical and dark movie. The people on the ferries decide to NOT blow each other up, to the Joker's utter surprise (and frankly mine as well, because I'm convinced that in a real-life situation, either one or both of the ferries would've been blown up) and this is basically Nolan's way of saying that despite all the ugliness that the world is obviously plagued by, there IS good out there. This idea is further emphasised by the fact that Batman is the only one who has faith in the people to not blow each other up, as Jim Gordon is already on scene together with a bunch of SWAT teams ready to intervene. Bruce Wayne's unerring faith in the people of Gotham is also one of the only positive aspects about the character throughout this movie. The ferry scene is the moment where Batman's crusade is vindicated: the people of Gotham prove themselves to be worth saving and he is consequently proven to be right to place his trust in them despite all the crap that he's been through, both physical and psychological. Like I said, the scene is rather unrealistic in its outcome and that's why it stands out; it's like Nolan just stopped and said 'alright, enough with all this doom and gloom crap, time to show the viewers that there is indeed hope in this shitty city...also, time to prove Batman right for a change in this film'.

In fact, it's towards the end of the movie that Batman is brought back together. We have his aforementioned faith in people, which is all the more remarkable when you consider just how close one of the ferries came to blowing up the other. The possibility of either one deciding to blow up the other was distinctly present, and still Batman chooses to trust in the good of people. And then we have his actions at the very end. Never mind him saving Jim Gordon's son from getting shot, the fact that he's even willing to take the fall for Harvey's murders as Two-Face is very powerful and a rather tragic turn of events. And this is because, in the end, it turns out that Batman is indeed the hero Gotham deserves as he willingly chooses to look like a villain in the eyes of the public so the city does not lose faith in its 'true hero'. The shocked expression on Gordon's face as Batman tells him to 'call it in' offers a glimpse into how emotional this turn of events is. To recap, Batman's been through a LOT of shit before this moment: he was pushed to the edge of his psychological boundaries by the Joker's machinations; he blames himself for the loss of his childhood friend Rachel (his romantic interest and last hope for a normal life) - who was basically the last shred of the innocence and life he had before the murder of his parents (Bruce Wayne, lest we forget, also had his parents shot down before his eyes when he was freakin' 8 years old); he is indirectly responsible for the tragic fall from grace of Gotham's one true ray of hope in years, Harvey Dent; not to mention the fact that the Joker turned the city against him. Oh, and he's also found the time to beat up a bunch of SWAT teams, get mauled by some rottweilers and have his wind pipe almost crushed by the Joker beforehand. And after all that, he's still willing to become the villain for the good of the city. 'You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain' comes to mind.

There's another slight paradox in there as well. As previously mentioned, Harvey is made out to be Gotham's one true incorruptible hero throughout the film, as well as a counterpart to Bruce Wayne/Batman. Moreover, they both pursue Rachel as a romantic interest. Harvey proves to be anything but incorruptible though, pursuing murderous justice against those he considers responsible for Rachel's death (she had also told him she'd chosen to marry him, seconds before she's blown up) following a 'final (metaphorical) push' into madness courtesy of the Joker. So it's rather paradoxical that Batman's the actual incorruptible hero all along even as he takes the blame for Harvey's crimes. I also see this as the movie telling us that, at the end of the day, Bruce is the better of the two men: he doesn't cross that line of no return between murderer and vigilante despite having to go through the same emotional trauma as Dent and then some. He's very close to crossing it earlier in the movie when Joker urges Batman to run him over with his bike, with the latter deciding against it at the last moment basically. That moment pays off in their final confrontation, when Batman saves the free falling Joker, prompting the villain to say 'You [Batman] truly are incorruptible'. It's here that The Dark Knight truly earns its superhero movie tag: Batman's one true superpower is his unbreakable spirit (well, I guess his money too, but that's not very inspiring) and in the end he proves to be the better man.

It's inspiring stuff and this is a descriptor I've not often seen used when discussing TDK. Inspiring is also the way I would describe the feeling immediately after seeing this movie at the cinema: it's a little hard to describe, but it was something along the lines of 'my faith in humanity has been restored'. There's this underlying theme of hope and optimism throughout the movie that comes in stark contrast with its cynical and bleak outlook. Harvey foreshadows this theme with the line 'The night is darkest just before the dawn' and it is prevalent in the ferry scene. Beyond all the theatricality (clowns dressing up as nurses and guys growling in batsuits in the case of TDK), the spectacular action scenes and explosives inherent to any superhero flick, The Dark Knight basically tells us that being cynical is all well and good, but without taking a chance and having faith in people, good things will not come about and our perspective will remain bleak. It's a situation which we've all been confronted with at one point of our lives or another and this is one of the movie's main strengths, its capacity to tap into a reality of the human condition (and society as a whole) and to get it across even with all the other things it has going for it. 'Sometimes truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more' is another example of such a situation. It's one of the reasons I love this film to death and really, I could just go on and on about the various aspects of this goddamn movie, but I'll stop here, as my initial promise of this being a fucking long post has been fulfilled.

I'll leave you with the epic (and cheesy) monologue that concludes this flick, which actually doesn't come off as cheesy thanks to the nature of the movie it's said in, the timing of it and Gary Oldman's godly delivery: Chills, I tellz ya'!

Nothing mind blowing - part deux (a.k.a. The Lana Del Rey Addendum)

At this point, you're probably wondering 'Where the fuck are those Batman analysis posts we were promised?' or alternatively, 'Since when does the rroawm blog have such a high post rate?'. I'm not going to mention that I'll get to the Batman analysis in due time because you're probably already thinking 'this guy is one of those assholes who never makes good on his promises' (if that's actually the case, take a look at my previous post). What I will mention is that this particular post was brought upon by a skimming-through session of one of my previous posts, namely the one where I use a lot of swear words to talk about the modern pop industry. More precisely, it was that short part about Lana Del Rey towards the end of that post. Here it is for those of you who have no fucking clue what I'm talking about: '[...]there's also positive signs such as Lana Del Rey, who while being crap live, seems to understand the importance of not going monotonous. [...] and she's done something no other mainstream artist has done in a while, namely keep the melodrama in check for an entire song'.

Having expanded my horisons vastly when it comes to Lana's music since then (and what I mean by that is that I've listened to her 'Born To Die' album a fuckload of times), I just can't help but find those particular phrases I wrote about her just plain laughable. The reality is that Lana's music is basically the opposite of what I said there: the melodrama is almost omni-present in her songs and that's exactly the reason that they get a bit monotonous after a while. This complete confusion on my behalf is rather explainable by the fact that my knowledge of Lana back then was limited to just 'Video Games'...but even then, that particular song contains lyrics so melodramatic ('They say that the world was built for two/ Only worth living if somebody is loving you') that they would make even the Queen of Melodrama herself, Adele, envious. I'll get back to this comparison further down the line. 'Video Games' is obviously about some sort of failed relationship that's left some pretty nasty and long-lasting emotional, perhaps even psychological scars. Some pretty standard Adele like material (alright, screw the 'further down the line thing', I'll be bringing up that comparison on a consistent basis). Then we have songs such as 'Born To Die', 'Blue Jeans' and 'Lucky Ones' which basically sound the same way (no shit, Sherlock, they're sung by the same fucking emotionally-scarred chick).

By now you're probably thinking that I've truly lost all hope in the mainstream industry and that I'm letting out my frustration by bitching about Lana Del Rey. The truth is that both of those statements are false. I've stopped caring about the mainstream industry for some time now and I usually mention it in comparisons that are meant to show it as a bad example (read, an exaggeratingly bad one). As for Lana, maybe you got a hint when I said I listened to the Born To Die album a fuckload of times by now. The truth is, I like her music and I do indeed believe she brings something fresh to the mainstream table (I still think she's crap live though). And here's why: while the melodrama in her songs does indeed get repetitive and rather tiring after a while, I get the distinct feeling that it's presented in a different way in comparison to you-know-who's style (and yes, I'm talking about Adele). 'Video Games' is a prime example, not only because of the chilling piano and harp instrumentals (practically the only two aspects I got right in my original analysis), but because of the way the melodrama comes across as well. It's not your run-of-the-mill 'hey, look at me despairing irrationally about how I'll never find someone like you ever again' (that's the last one, I promise). It's much more subtle in a way, and at the same time it's not subtle; just take a look at the lyrics I mentioned earlier. It's this conundrummy aspect of her music that's intriguing. The melodrama is obviously there, but it comes across in a rather underlying way, which owes a lot to how Lana's voice (which critics have accurately compared to lounge music vocals) intertwines with the haunting instrumentals. The way the song builds up towards its chorus, you wouldn't be surprised and you'd maybe even expect some sort of explosion of all the remorse building up in the lyrics. But 'Video Games' never gives us that - this is basically what I was referring to in that original post when I was talking about 'keeping the melodrama in check' (so not that laughable at the end of the day...hindsight's a bitch). It's almost like the melodrama is numbed, despite the fact that it's pretty clear she's singing about a traumatising experience. It's a rather fresh take on melodrama in a pop song, at least to me. The nature of the song makes you think of how getting intoxicated (something which Lana has confirmed to doing in interviews...not like it's obvious from her songs) numbs your perceptions when you're going through these sort of experiences. It's rather fascinating, in spite of not being some sort of musical ingenuity. 'Born To Die' and 'Blue Jeans' are similar in this regard, although 'Lucky Ones' is more basic and melodic.

Another thing that comes off as fresh to me is her willingness to admit that she is not the most healthy of people, mentally speaking (I'd be willing to admit that after Born To Die too). I can't honestly remember a particular lyric that suggests this self-awareness on the aforementioned album, but I can certainely refer to a more recent song of hers, namely 'Serial Killer' (which I think is from one of the extended editions of the BTD album). Some of the lyrics here are telling, 'Baby, I'm a sociopath, sweet serial killer'. Now some of you may be thinking 'well geez, I could've told her that after listening to a bunch of her songs' and that's obviously true, but I don't think I've ever heard a melodramatic pop singer willingly admit her obsessive tendencies before (I think she makes such references in 'Ride' as well, I'm not really familiar with that song's lyrics). And that sincere self-awareness (which I'll admit, may be circumstantial) is interesting to me. It makes her music fresh, especially when considering peers such as, you guessed it, Adele. I don't think you'll ever hear the latter so non-chalantly admit to her obsessive tendencies within a song. 'Serial Killer' is also interesting because it lacks any clear signs of the unique melodrama I've been talking about so far. It's a rather playful and quite addictive song (it's also sexy and fun in a disturbing way). 'Ride' also seems to point towards a more optimistic direction for Lana's songs, although her issues (namely her daddy issues) come across as well. It remains to be seen if she'll actually do a complete 180 with her music, that is to release exclusively optimistic songs, but I really doubt that. Somehow, I think that underlying, conundrummy, subtle/not subtle melodrama of hers will almost always be present in her songs in one form or another.

While you're probably tired of my continuous Adele comparisons, I think it's interesting to consider whether or not Lana would've enjoyed the success she has if it weren't for Adele's subtle as a bolder type of melodrama. My analysis at least, was based on a consistent comparison between the two, but maybe that's a mistake on my part. Maybe these continual comparisons do not allow me to appreciate Lana's music to its fullest. But I'll be damned if making fun of Adele isn't entertaining (short disclaimer: I think Adele has a great voice and like I've said before, I think it's admirable she's managed to turn emotional traumas into mainstream success - she's just not my cup of tea, like at all; also, this is my blog, so fuck you). Then again, I think it's rather likely that if it weren't for Adele's success, another similar singer would've taken her place. Why? Common sense (human nature as well). Anyway, food for thought.

I'll end this surprisingly long post with my latest musical obsession: Jack White plays an absolutely killer bass on this one; also, does anyone think the singer from Mellowdrone sounds suspiciously like Beck?

Is hate a valid reason for voting?

I'm going to deliver on a pledge I made when I first created this blog today, namely talking about politics. Yeah, yeah, boring subject I know, but the political landscape in my country has been undergoing a rather drastic change for a year or so and I think it's pertinent to write about it. I won't get into specifics, but people who are familiar with the subject will know what I'm talking about.

I'll start by saying that following a recent voting poll regarding a fresh edition of parliamentary elections in Romania, the final phase of the change I was talking about earlier has been put in motion. Frankly, this change has been coming for a while now, but I think it's interesting to investigate the main reason for its instigation. As some of you may know, Romania hasn't been doing particularly well for a couple of years now (since the aftermath of the 1989 Revolution for that matter). But since joining the EU in 2007, there have been reasons to be optimistic regarding the country's future. That of course did not prevent Romania from being plunged into an economical crisis, but there's no denying that funding from the EU helped Romania, including on the educational side of things.

Speaking of the economical crisis, the ones in power back then decided that it was high time Romania went through a reform and with that came unpopular decisions such as cutting salaries and pensions. Thus, the first seeds of hate among the people were planted. Television channels and mass-media outlets opposed to those in power had already been conducting campaigns to discredit them by then, but these very unpopular measures gave them the perfect opportunity to press forth aggressively with their campaign. People gobbled up those campaigns because the ones in power had 'stolen' their money. And thus, a 'culture' of hate was born. It has been cultivated and brewing since then and it has subsequently culminated in a drastic change of power towards the opposing parties (of which the main ones have conducted an alliance).

My question is this: is hate truly a valid reason for changing the political landscape of a country? I understand where it's coming from, but voting is about deciding the future course of a country not about spiting those you hate. I mean, if the guys who are coming into power would have a clearly defined plan for the future of the country I would understand the choice. But it's painfully clear they don't. Every time I've heard their interviews on TV, they've talked and complained about the current president (let's call him B.) even though his current (and last for that matter) mandate ends in two years' time (soon to be one year). Their efforts since gradually taking power about a year ago have almost exclusively been directed at suspending and eliminating him from the political landscape even though he's basically finished as a politician (what with his popularity being almost non-existent among the people). What's worse is that they've consistently been butting heads with the higher members of the EU, essentially endangering Romania's status within the union. And what's saddening is that people have bought into this 'culture of hate', not because of logical reasons (although I will concede there are people who make valid points in this sense) but because of spite. What it basically boils down to is this: 'B. stole my pension/salary, so I hate him and will vote against him any chance I get'.

Just to be clear, I'm not claiming B. and his guys were some sort of saviours. Not by a long shot. It's pretty clear that there are rotten apples in all of Romania's political parties. But there were reasons to be optimistic regarding the future of this country during their mandate. They consistently talked about the importance of the EU in Romania's future (and indeed, Romania became a member state during their mandate) and had the backing of some of the most influential members of the union (as evidenced by Angela Merkel's backing of B. during the latest suspension attempt). What's more, they constantly talked about enabling the justice system and stamping out corruption. More importantly, they backed up their words: one of the most notoriously corrupt bastards in Romania's recent history, namely Adrian Nastase (who also happens to be one of the country's fucking former prime-ministers) was locked behind bars during their mandate; and he wasn't the only one. Maybe that's not much to look at, but they certainly set a couple of wheels in motion or at least tried. And while denominators such as 'drunk sailor' for B. are true in a sense (even though they're obviously hyperbole), the country started moving in a different direction during his mandate. And I dare say a  rather positive one. The main leaders of the opposition (let's call them V. and C.) may have made vague references to a better future for Romania, but they haven't actually done anything to support that. All they've been preoccupied with since gradually assuming power is discrediting a president who was: a. already unpopular and b. already finished politically by the time they truly came into power. It's mind-boggling when you consider the delicate situation Romania finds itself in at present. Oh, and the less said about V.'s doctorate fraud and the example it sets for the young impressible generation in Romania, the better (it's not like it's been confirmed by authorities or anything). What's even worse is that some people seem to have lost confidence in the voting/democratic system altogether, as evidenced by the approximately 42% of people who voted at these latest elections. These people seem to have simply given up and this lack of hope that is permeating throughout the country is quite disheartening. The truth is that there's always a choice in these situations, even when the choice is 'choosing the lesser evil'.

I'm not trying to generalise here. There are obviously people who have objective reasons for voting in favour of V. and C.'s party, but the existence of this 'culture of hate' and its influence on people cannot be denied. And quite frankly, it's a downright flimsy reason to have when the future of your country is at stake. Aspects such as whether the previous guys who were in power actually did good during their mandate (which is obviously subjective) are irrelevant in this context. So the question arises again: 'Is hate a truly valid reason for voting'?. Food for thought.

PS: I know that in my last post I talked about doing a Nolan Batman Trilogy marathon of posts and I WILL get to it...just as soon as I have some free time to re-watch each individual movie again. But I just couldn't ignore the political topic any longer.

"It's been a long time coming" or The 'Random Ramblings' Blog Rises

Not the most subtle of titles, I know (quite ominous as well, isn't it?). The quote is actually part of the lyrics to a song by The Kills called "Kissy Kissy". If you haven't listened to The Kills, you should do so right away before you fail completely in my eyes (like that would actually be an incentive...but seriously, listen to them, they're a fine band). Anyway, the use of that particular lyric is not coincidental. Besides the fact that that particular Kills song is quite catchy - perhaps it should've been called "Catchy Catchy" instead hehe, that passage from the song is very fitting considering the fact I haven't written a blog post in 8 bloody months (I haven't suddenly become a woman and we haven't been plunged into a new war either, don't worry).

The other reason is that a post concerning director Christopher Nolan's excellent Batman movies has always been on my mind, from the moment I started this blog. As my friends will attest, my passion for these movies (as well as the character himself) could be said to often border on the obsessive. I've always had a fondness for the character, from the days I used to watch the Batman Animated Series in the 90's. They were my first exposure to the character. Then there were Tim Burton's movies, "Batman" (1989) and "Batman Returns" (1992). Even though I recognised the characters in the movies, I can't say I was ever really into them. Penguin was over the top, commissioner Gordon was laughably underused and useless, Batman seemed distant and Catwoman...well actually, Catwoman was fine, in more ways than one (apart from the supernatural side of the character within Burton's universe). It's clear Burton wanted to tell his own, distinctive take on the character, but I've never really been into his style as a director and that's probably one of the reasons I don't really like his batmovies (there's also more specific reasons, such as Batman being and out and out executioner, as well as the personal nuance his relationship with the Joker gets). I don't hate them either, so I guess the best way I could describe my feelings toward them would be "rather indifferent". But it's no doubt that the movies were revolutionary for the character...they were, after all, his first steps into the world of Hollywood. Then came Joel Schumacher's two movies, "Batman Forever" and "Batman & Robin" and, well...the less said about them, the better. Here's why: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkTHtWX7CCY

Anyway, even as a young boy I couldn't help but be disappointed in those movies. By that time the animated series were no longer being televised either, so my passion for Batman was left hanging aimlessly in the background. I still had contact with the character, in the form of the Batman Beyond TV show, but it wasn't really the same, even though that was a great show. And then, in 2005, I heard news that a new Batman movie was released, but my interest in Batman movies was non-existent. I had seen some bits of footage on TV, but I wasn't terribly impressed. I hadn't even heard of Christopher Nolan either. That 2005 movie was "Batman Begins", but I didn't get to see it until three years later. The year 2008, the year "The Dark Knight" was released. Once again, my indifference was initially prevalent: I had no idea a new Batman movie was coming out that year, much less a continuation of "Batman Begins". [INTERLUDE] Because repeatedly writing down the entire names of these movies is becoming a chore, I will henceforth proceed to refer to them by their abbreviated versions, namely BB (Batman Begins), TDK (The Dark Knight) and TDKR (The Dark Knight Rises).[/INTERLUDE] I first heard about TDK from a friend who was enthusiastic about it and had also seen BB beforehand. His enthusiasm did nothing to influence my indifference however, but I still decided to take him up on his invitation to see the movie when it came out in our country. I had also heard of Heath Ledger's tragic passing in the meantime, but that wasn't on my mind when I actually got to see the movie.

Long story short, TDK is what brought Batman back into my consciousness, stronger than ever. Perhaps my low expectations, my diminished interest in the character, the rather bleak emotional sequence I was going through back then is to blame. Perhaps it's a combination of these reasons. And perhaps it's also because it was a damn fine movie (read: it definitely is). It was certainly the best cinematic experience of my life so far (more on this in a future blog post). Needless to say, I watched BB shortly afterwards and was thoroughly impressed as well. This trilogy was what brought back my dormant love for the old 90's cartoon, as well as a new-found interest in comic books (which I wasn't really into before). I haven't actually become an avid comic book fan in the meanwhile, but I definitely have a much more active interest in them, as well as a genuine appreciation for graphic novels (especially the ones about Batman, obviously), which are sometimes underrated.

These movies were also my first glimpse into the world of Christopher Nolan. One of the best directors out there at present, he's been delivering quality movies throughout his short career so far (beginning with 1998's "Following" up to 2012's "The Dark Knight Rises"). Now that his Batman trilogy is done, it will be interesting to see what project he chooses to do next. The end of the trilogy also gives me the chance to bring this blog back to life. I had initially planned on this post being solely about TDK, as my intention is to cover each of Nolan's three batmovies in individual posts. I decided against this because I really want to re-watch each movie before making my posts about them (even though I've probably watched them too many times by now). I plan on getting these particular posts done until the end of the year, even though my plans do not always come to fruition. My passion for these movies will ensure that I do make an effort though and the fact that I'll be moving towards actually analysing and talking about the movies themselves will make things way more interesting, I assure you. Whether this post about my history with the character will be relevant in the context of those future posts, I will leave it for you to decide (although, as you may have noticed, I do have a tendency of making more general and boring posts following a long hiatus from the blogging lands).

For now, I will leave you with the thoughts of a friend of mine who recently watched the entire trilogy: "[...]I think I haven't appreciated a movie as much as this in a long while. This movie is great and important and almost perfect and I'm saddened when I think that I won't be seeing something as good for a long time. It is impossible for me to care about another superhero movie in the near future and it is (probably) impossible for another director to reach the heights Nolan has reached. Right now, I am pleased, but sad at the same time."

Also, this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SINdVagq7Gc

PS: Like I said at the beginning of this post, I had always planned on writing about Nolan's movies, but it was only a week ago that these thoughts truly gathered steam again. I had never thought I would actually see the day, but a course at my university about comic books is where I was reminded of the brilliance of The Dark Knight (it all seems to come back to that movie). Like Bruce Wayne in TDKR, I was waiting for something to hasten my return...in that sense, watching TDK again was my Bane (not literally, of course). Also, feminists, please don't take that joke at the beginning out of context. Thank you.