News

Director Christopher Nolan has been reading Aristotle. Many filmgoers' conversations about The Dark Knight will likely consist of speculation about whether actor Heath Ledger killed himself because of his haunting role as the Joker, or the staggering box-office returns, or the degree to which the film followed the original comic book's story. Those cineastes would then miss the one conversation the film attempts to engage its viewers in: What does it mean to be a political animal?

For the civic-minded, Batman is the most appealing of the recent comic-book characters brought to life on the big screen. Spiderman is mutated by a venomous bite; his story asks how change affects the way we envision ourselves. The X-Men are born different; the debate concerns how society treats those classified as the "other." Bruce Wayne, however, chooses to become Batman.

Wayne realizes that, as a billionaire, he has the option of secluding himself from a society run amok. But he believes that as someone who has reaped the benefits of good society, he also has to stick it out with bad society. That's the social contract he feels he's signed. Thus, the story confronts our sense of citizenship.

In these times of rampant cynicism about government and attempts to sabotage democratic proceedings, it's worth taking stock of how The Dark Knight values a person. When the good guys laud each other in the film, they do so not based on wealth or strength, but on their qualities as citizens.

Whereas a protagonist in another action film might be motivated solely by a love interest, Batman sacrifices love to uphold the state. This may not make for a good husband, but it makes for a good citizen. When Harvey Dent, the "white knight" district attorney, secretly tortures a suspect to uncover the whereabouts of his kidnapped love, Batman intervenes, believing this discredits their cause, regardless of its benefits.

Here, Batman is rejecting what has come to be known as the "lesser evil" approach, in which one can commit an otherwise undesirable act if there is an urgent and significant need. Underlying this rejection is the notion that society is greater than the sum of its parts — that the sheer fact coming together to form it is something worth fighting for.

The Joker character, however, rejects this notion. He believes humans act solely and predictably in self-interest, with no serious regard for fellow citizens or the state. He fails to validate man's primary identity as a political animal.

In a scene that mirrors the sort of moral conundrums presented in high-school philosophy classes, the Joker wires explosives to two large passenger ferries. One carries prison inmates, the other a random sampling of free citizens. Each has a detonator that controls the explosives on the other boat. The Joker informs both groups of their situation and says that if one boat has not chosen to detonate the other boat by midnight, he will destroy them both.

As the Joker and Batman duke it out elsewhere, the options weighed on the ferries represent the views of mankind the two characters espouse. After heated debates, neither ship uses its detonator (the denial of selfishness) and the Joker is finally captured, but the film suggests that Batman has won a Pyrrhic victory: There have been many casualties and some principles have been violated. But Batman then understands that free society — never the handmaiden to ideology — has no terminus, no palace in the sky. Rather, it is defined by constant struggle, and as such, all victories lead only to further struggle.

Granted, as political philosophy, the film is basic and does not completely hold up under rigorous analysis. But film is an action-based medium and it is often basic, because visual communication and narrative example best lend themselves to basic arguments.

The one basic, cogent argument that can be gleaned from Gotham City's embers: Nobody ever said democracy was going to be easy. The democratic tradition is one that asks its members to participate fully and to constantly reconsider its fundamental tenets and be willing to fight for them. The film challenges you, regardless of your views, to get in the game.

Anthony Furey is a Toronto writer. anthony.furey@utoronto.ca