The Boondock Saints: Just a Bad Taxi Driver

Taxi Driver is a 1976 film by Martin Scorsese. It is a psychological character study about an insomniac Vietnam-War Veteran suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder illustrated by his disgust of what post-modern society has become. It is about more than that. But that's the most basic interpretation. Ultimately, he rescues Jodi Foster from being a 12 year old hooker. All he wants is to clean up the streets. Taxi Driver is significantly more effective because it provides the basic elements to a story that The Boondock Saints doesn't: Proper motivation, character development, fallibility, decision-making scenes, empathy for character.

The Boondock Saints just shows us two guys. Were not sure what they are until 20 minutes into the film. And even at 20 minutes were still not exactly sure. Are they angels? May be. If they are then that implies that the credit documentary sequence was more or less unnecessary. Regardless, we come to understand that somehow these guys are really good at shooting and they take it upon themselves to clean up the streets by killing people.

I think that Enlightenment philosophers would have a problem with this.

In the end of the film during the documentary sequence a man says "yes, I support capital punishment."

The problem with this film is that it is worse than capital punishment because at least executed prisoners had a "fair" trial and was considered innocent until proven guilty. While the film tries to present a 50-50 mentality about morality, it is clear what side the filmmakers support via the glorification of the "heroes".

(Side Note: does anyone else think Il Duce was hyper-random?)

The film is in essence style with no substance. And its bad style at that. The cinematography was really bad. When it comes to this type of film, generally the only redeeming quality is the really cool lighting and badass action sequences. This was just weird.

The flaws with this film really fall under basic filmmaking 101.

If The Boondock Saints don't want to give their victims a fair trial, then the filmmakers need to. We as the viewer must be convinced that these are the scum of the Earth and deserve to have their head blown off. We are just told they are bad. The film was 1hr and 50min, they definitely could have had more in there.

I hate to say it, but for this film to work. We would have needed to see some rape. Some torture. Some abusive and sadistic mutilation. We have to think to ourselves "yeah! go saints!" But when we are just told of these "bad guys" and watch them die... As far as characters go they are not "bad" to the viewer, only the filmmaker.

I am reminded of the film A Clockwork Orange. The first third of the film is constant and brutal violence to emphasize the themes of individual liberties over safety.

This film needed to start off showing the first third of A Clockwork Orange, and then the remainder of the film is The Saints seeking revenge on the Droogs. That's how this film works. We can't just be dropped into something, be told who is good, who is bad, and just accept the violence in front of us.

At a minimum we needed to see corruption in the police or government.

We need to see two guys who have known a (preferably small) town their whole life. That town has to become overrun by gangsters, killers, rapists, pedophiles. They have to seek the government and police help. There has to be corruption so that we, as the viewer, understand that the system of democracy and order has failed. Then after a lot of self-reflection, these two guys take it upon themselves to take back their hometown. They kill. The police come after them because they are being paid off by the mob. They in essence become Batman in the film Batman Begins... except with guns. Then after some highly stylized action they die in a blaze of bullets. Except there were reporters or something and the cops and politicians go to jail for corruption, better police come in, and the social ills are alleviated. The end. That is The Boondock Saints (the better version). And I wrote that story in under 3 minutes.

The Academy Awards: EPIC FAIL

First of all I have to point out that 'Wall•E', 'The Dark Knight', 'Synecdoche, New York', 'Doubt', 'Revolutionary Road', 'In Bruges', and 'Gran Torino' were severely snubbed. That being said, I have a problem with the way the Oscars do their thing.

The Academy must really not like movies. Because if they did, then they wouldn't limit the nominations for Best Picture down to just 5. 

http://www.metacritic.com/film/awards/2008/toptens.shtml

These are all legitimate film critics and their lists vary a lot. Granted, there are some similarities, but that's why I propose this. Why doesn't the Academy give a "seal of approval" instead of a golden statue to an individual. Why don't they nominate as many as they feel appropriate, and then from there take like the best 10% or something and give them 'extra special' awards?

Look at Roger Ebert's top list. He doesn't even bother ranking them. He chose the movies he thought that were the best of the year and put them on a list. He doesn't say which is better or worse, he just gives them his "seal of approval."

I'm not saying I don't believe in competition, but it's like Malcolm Gladwell says in his book Outliers, all you have to be is "good enough". Who is to say that a passion piece like Gran Torino is worse than the 5 movies picked by the Academy? Who is to say that Curious Case of Benjamin Button isn't just Forest Gump all over again? Who is to say that Doubt (a Pulitzer Prize winning play) isn't even good enough to be nominated for anything besides acting (not to hate on acting awards, I just feel bad for the screenwriter).

The Academy is retarded. I guess that's what I am trying to get at. The Academy is retarded and doesn't respect art. They limit films down to the "top 5" and then pick the "top 1".

I think Slumdog Millionaire deserved best editing and best cinematography and nominations for best director and sound stuff. That's about it. It didn't really do anything else that good besides be really "cool" and "stylized."

There is a great history at The Academy Awards. But just because it's history doesn't make it right. Should we have kept slavery just because it was tradition? Surely that's an exaggerated comparison, but I think it's fair to recognize that there is no reason it can't be revolutionized. They already changed up the categories a lot since the start of the ceremony way back when. In fact they just added Best Animated Feature at the beginning of the millennium.

Oh, and with Wall•E, I'm glad that Animated Feature is in it's own category, but like I said I think the whole thing should be a "seal of approval". I mean, Bolt? Bolt was nominated for an Academy Award... and Doubt wasn't? Are you joking me?

Anyway - Wall•E - I think that it should have been nominated for more technical awards. Certainly it's a different craft, but more or less cinematography is the same whether its done digitally or in actuality. What about it's editing? No nomination? And what's with the song? It should have won hands down. This is just getting ridiculous. Last year was an amazing song from Once, this year is a rip-off bollywood song mixed with contemporary dance beats.

And what about the song from The Wrestler? That won the Golden Globe but wasn't even nominated at the Academy Awards. Lame. That was a good song.

Forget the Academy. They are just corrupt studio execs that think they can generate extra money from Slumdog after it get's the "oscar push" as it's called. It happened to American Beauty. It will happen to Slumdog. And the voters at the Academy know it.

Revolutionary Road: Is April Wheeler a Hero?

This film is a reverent tragedy of an incomplete artist.

The last few shots we see of April are interesting. We see her feet come down the stairs gracefully. She approaches the bright and hopeful window. The exterior shot makes things optimistic and glorifies her. A few shots later the camera zooms out revealing blood on the back of her dress, and continues to zoom out until she is alone in a big room. She runs off camera and in the most significant line of the movie says, "I think I need help..."

I'm not entirely sure what to make of that line. My uncertainty has manifested itself into sleepless nights (exaggeration). All I can claim is that I feel there were three levels to it. (1) She needs help from a literal ambulance perspective, (2) She needs help clinically from a depression perspective, (3) She needs help with life in general because she is stuck in the suburbs.

All, one, or none of those are correct.

And as always there are two ways to talk about art. What is it saying? And what do you think about what it's saying? 

From what I've interpreted from the climax, and the resolution of the other characters - I feel like Sam Mendes is reverent towards April, but he does not glorify her as a martyr. (If this is true) I agree that he did the right thing. I believe that from a plot stand point it was good that April gave herself the abortion.

But that brings up two questions. (1) Did she know she was going to die from the abortion (indirect suicide)? (2) Was she justified/a hero?

I feel like she did know she was going to die. It is tough to talk about the second question I pose because not everyone will agree with me that her act was indirect suicide. But for the sake of argument we should say it was. So, if April committed suicide, was it justified? Does the film glorify or condone her actions? I don't believe it does. But should it?

I feel like I would have directed the film exactly how it is because through my interpretation she is not glorified.

Remember John, "Matter of fact, the way you look right now, I'm beginning to feel sorry for him, too. I mean, you must give him a pretty bad time, if making babies is the only way he can prove he's got a pair of balls."

I'm not sure if I understand this film or if I don't.

I feel like it doesn't take sides, it is reverent. I feel like this film is a solemn and purposefully understated ode to those who yearn to not just live life, but to feel it. That's not to say that April was a hero, because I don't believe she was. I feel that she was as guilty of immaturity as Frank was.

They were young and idealistic, but they understood that they wanted something. They weren't sure exactly what, but they wanted it. The only way they could verbalize it was by calling it "Paris".

This film isn't a glorification of April, but a criticism of the society she is in. It doesn't say that her (perhaps intentional) death was justified, but that it was logical - two very different things.

So either everyone in the world who sees this movie all understand it, or we are all meant to just ponder and never come to any conclusions. I like the latter. I like thinking that may be the message of this film is not as concrete as I want it to be. I like thinking that may be the message of this film doesn't really exist, and that the film itself was the message. The experience and the reflection itself is the message. May be.

When Harry Met Sally: What Time is It?

The film jumps back and forth between the main plot involving Harry/Sally and old couples retelling their love stories. The film also jumps forward in time with two "5 Years Later" as well as some fade outs. But the question I have about this film is: What time is it?

Because during the New Years scene and especially by the Pictionary scene I was beginning to wonder how much time had passed. It was enough of a stretch for me to get over the "5 Years Later" scenario - but I did get over it - it was a movie and it was cute and I enjoyed seeing how they grew older and the way they interacted with each other.

But by the time I reached the Pictionary scene it was more than obvious that they were into each other and I am wondering the very thing Harry proposed at the beginning: "Can a man and a woman just be friends?" Now I know defenders of the film will argue that it is made all the better by reflecting the theme - but I'm not saying the plot development is poor. In all honesty I loved this film. The characters were real to me and dialogue was hysterical.

But at a certain point I wonder how it took so long for them to kiss passionately. Apparently it took Joe to get married, but regardless of that I just cannot believe - by any stretch of my imagination - that it took them as long as I feel it did. The reason I say feel is because film and relative time go hand in hand. A fade out means different things to different people and a 5 year time span means different things to different people.

All I know is that I am with Harry's original standings in which I am unconvinced they held off as long as I perceive they did. It takes more imagination by the view to believe they were best-friends-forever for as long as they were than it does to believe that Frodo Baggins from The Shire threw an all-powerful Ring forged by the evil dark lord Sauron into the fiery pits of Mount Doom in the hellish region of Middle Earth known as Mordor.

I just don't have the imagination for the former, but I do for the latter.

The romantic comedy lover in me enjoys how the plot develops. Really, I think its very understandable and strong. But the story should have taken place (besides the 10 years at the beginning - which should have been shortened in its own right) in no more than a few months. No two adults can spend as much time with each other as they have, doing the things they do, and not - after a few weeks - have legitimate questions in the back of their mind about a romantic relationship forming.

It's inhuman for them to have held out as long as they had.

If the story was shortened in its relative time, I would have believed it.

But because it was expanded as much as it was. I guess I just have to love it for what it is - a damn funny movie.

But my contrarian side just needed some clarification because I'm still not buying the chronology.

Revolutionary Road: "It didn't have to be Paris"

At a crucial moment in the film Revolutionary Road, April Wheeler tells her neighbor "it didn't have to be Paris." Paris, for most of the film, was just a representation of the ideal life. I, never being the biggest fan of philosophy, liked how middle of the road this film was. 

For the first half, the Wheelers overwhelmingly wanted to drop everything and follow their dreams. Their liberal yearnings were highly justified as Frank was "The Man in The Gray Suit" and April was Mrs. Cleaver. They couldn't stand it. Neither could I.

But about the half way point two things happen. April becomes pregnant and Frank gets promoted. It is at this point where the decent into madness begins. I've only seen the film once and may not understand some intricate pretentious idea - but I liked what I got from it: no answers. Things happen. Really intense things. But the film doesn't leave us with a "things are good" or "this is a good idea" or "this is the 'ideal'". That's because the people who made this were filmmakers, not philosophers. While philosophers like to think they can construct what we "ought" to be, Revolutionary Road understands that life isn't that simple and that sometimes liberal yearnings aren't as easy to jump on board with as philosophers might think.

While some may disagree, I felt that once we hit the halfway point both Frank and April's views were represented equally. So much so that when April makes the emergency phone call at the end there is immense depth to her last line in the film "I think I need help."

That line isn't supposed to indicate that she is crazy, per se. It's one of the best lines I've ever heard because it can be taken in many different ways. It's easy to derive from the story that she is clinically depressed. It's also easy to derive from the story that she is the "right" and Frank is the "wrong".

I feel that it is equal. And that both characters are right and wrong. The film is more so a cautionary tale without a clear advocacy. Frank argues that "we can have plenty of time to travel when we have the money. And we can't go to Paris with a baby on the way." and April argues "we aren't alive here." Both very valid, but what does it caution about? I think that it subtly shows that perhaps when Frank finally "gets the money to travel" he will be too busy to do so, yet April doesn't fully appreciate the difficulty of raising an infant in a foreign country - of course until she gives herself an abortion - but we all know how that ends.

It's a film about choices and their consequences and the fact that the choices are never clear. I've lived my life by the principle that "the grass is inherently greener on the other side" and I couldn't help but think about it the whole time during the film.

Yet I knew something was going to happen to destroy their liberal yearnings. There is no way its that easy. (1) Move to a foreign country, (2) live life.

It's like the end of Into The Wild. The angst within the main character caused him to live out his dreams and go to Alaska. But when he died he realized how lonely his life was. Revolutionary Road was a little different because I assume, had they gone to Paris, they would have stuck together as a family.

Nevertheless, I wonder if Paris is all that its cracked up to be? But then again thats why "it didn't have to be Paris", it was just the idea that you have to chase your dreams (more or less). And regardless of the fact that Revolutionary Road didn't provide clear answers for the audience, we can at least take that from it.

Donnie Darko: Gimmicky or Spiritual?

I liked it right when I saw it. Plain and simple. But only after doing some reading did I finally understand the complete plot. An boy with angst has to sacrifice himself to save the world. 

Why did the tangent universe suddenly come about? Because Donnie was supposed to die but he didn't. But why didn't he die? Because Frank called him out of bed. But didn't Frank only manifest himself after Halloween? Where does it begin? I guess that doesn't really matter. Somehow destiny got off course and apparently that is enough to bring everything crashing down.

I am not one of the die hard Donnie Darko fans who have elaborate explanations for the story. I think that (when it comes to any film) you have to justify interpretations by using examples in the film that would hint at that interpretation as being primary. I find that most Donny Darko fans just like to use their imaginations a little too much. And thats what good gimmicks do. They make you think that they are more important or deeper than they actually are so that everyone else does all the work. 

It makes you think and want to talk about it. Two qualities of a good film. It was directed and acted very well. We as the audience are taken through so much of this world that we come to understand Donny even though he doesn't understand himself. 

A film was made. A good one - about destiny. But its ambiguity drives a subculture of imaginative film snobs who think the film is in some way spiritual.

It was good.

Not bad.

Good.

Not great.

A hint of post-modern.

Good.

Slumdog Millionaire: Can fairy tale escapism be bad?

Escapism is different to different people. As Americans, we can escape to India in this film and enjoy a 'pure' and beautiful experience about lovers who rise from "rags to raja" - sort of. It's hopeful in someways and tragic in others - but is it possible that art can fail humanity?

That sounds daunting, but hear me out.

In a nation of over a billion people (and growing exponentially still) and wrestling with a bad government, bad policies, and a bad standard of living - does this story do the Indian people any justice? It shows the slums of SouthEast Asia (something we don't think about often enough) and it puts us into another culture. We experience poor India, Hero-obsessed India, TV Show-Obsessed India, Muslim vs. Hindu India, Americanized India, and so on. But could Danny Boyle have done more for the people of India than just showing a classic story told in an original way?

I loved this film. I felt it was about time to share that before I get too off track. I can tell why it won Best Picture, Screenplay, Director, and Score. I can definitely tell the score. It was a very American-Indian in it's refreshing blend of traditional India music with American beats. The performances are excellent and the climax is well deserved. This film is not rushed nor slow. It unfolds before our eyes like a dance - even at tragic moments were amazed at the magic.

It is a film about destiny, (Jamal and Latika) fate, and redemption (Salim). It is very powerful and inspiring, but my realist continues to slap me in the face. Is this what the world needs right now? Is this what India needs right now? It's overly critical of me to cut the legs under this film by being a Negative Nancy. However, what we see superficially is India - but when no real solution is provided through this art - when nothing is advocated - no plan - then no real hope exists. I'm waiting for the day where a film is inspirational, not because of good filmmaking, but because the film itself is actually making a difference.

It is a modern fairy tale. The question is: in the world we live in today, is a fairy tale the right answer?

Justice, my friends, justice. Is there justice here to India's poor?

I must be the biggest Negative Nancy to have written this blog post, but it's all about the philosophy behind art. Adult fairy tales? What do they do for us? Is this really the best picture? It may be everything else. But how can best picture be given to a film that just perpetuates fantasies and neglects to solve issues. This is a movie, not a film. This is a really, really, really fantastic movie.

But just like in my post about Chinatown, this doesn't do anything. It inspires us, and most of the time thats enough for me! I promise! I sound bipolar because I honestly did enjoy this movie, I just figured no one else was going to ask the question...

Can fairy tale escapism be bad?

To a country like India........ hm.....

Nevertheless I am glad that this was a portal for the rest of the world to see into the recent history of India. The slums, the city, the tourism. It is a film about an India we don't normally see... I just felt like may be there should be a Slumdog Millionaire Part 2 where Jamal uses his money and brilliance to solve problems.

May be that would be a movie to inspire change.

Chinatown: What is it's place in film history?

Chinatown came out in 1974, decades after the genre it was portraying was popular. This example of neo-noir is a very, very good film. But after looking over AFI's 100 years 100 films I have to ask: how did it get ranked #21? Granted its a very compelling story and the characters are interesting and were acted extremely well. But is it really the 21st greatest film of all time?

What makes a great film? How do you rank works of art? By it's quality? It's contribution to the art community? Originality?

I feel that Chinatown is very good, but its not the kind of film that sticks with you. You don't keep thinking about it. It doesn't make you reevaluate things - your life - your perspectives - your humanity. In 1974 it might have brought a lot of cards to the art of film - but not to art in general. 

A film needs more than good direction, cinematography, acting, etc. At the Academy Awards it only won Best Screenplay - though it was nominated for many, many more. That's because it is a well rounded film. Polanski is a very gifted and ground-breaking director... he made a film that not only honored a genre of decades previous, but in doing so made one of the best of it's genre.

The themes of loneliness are there.

But when you have to rank the best 100 films of all time, I feel that it does other filmmakers injustice to place Chinatown at #21.

Can you really argue that the film is more significant than #30 Apocalypse Now, #33 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (which came out the year after), or even #52 Taxi Driver (2 years after). 

I'm not trying to be contrarian here. I'm not trying to just pick Chinatown out and rant about it. I'm just wondering if I am missing the larger message or if other films are being snubbed? The film is good, but how good? The film is compelling, but how compelling? The film is original, but how original? The film is significant, but how significant?

I'm not trying to be too negative, but I feel it is important to question critics that seemingly have a universal belief about a film.

Is there a difference between an art and a craft? I guess someone could argue that art is the significance of a craft.

How significant is Chinatown... in the grand scheme of things?

There Will Be Blood: Overrated by Film Snobs?

In what is probably the most mind-boggling film of 2007, There Will be Blood is at most a masterpiece and at least a film-nerds dream projected onto a screen.

Though I feel the film wont be adequately synthesized and analyzed for decades to come, the most thorough  analysis i could find is this: noisewar 

But it isn't our generation's Citizen Kane

And I have just one question for Paul Thomas Anderson... was there a thematic point to having unmentioned and unexplained identical twin brothers both played by Paul Dano... or was it just because Eli's character couldn't have done both from a plot perspective? Thinking about it I can see how if it was Eli's brother that brought him to the oil there can be some sort of theme hidden there... but after awhile I think this movie has too much. 

Hate me for saying it. But I find this film indecisive (only a little bit) about it's message and purposely and unnecessarily obscure in its method.

If it's underrated then it is by those who hate the ending.

And if it's overrated then you have to thank those thousands of film nerds who wont stop blogging about the film (I'm a hypocrite.)

But to them I end this post with Roger Ebert: 

***"There Will Be Blood" is the kind of film that is easily called great. I am not sure of its greatness. It was filmed in the same area of Texas used by "No Country for Old Men," and that is a great film, and a perfect one. But "There Will Be Blood" is not perfect, and in its imperfections (its unbending characters, its lack of women or any reflection of ordinary society, its ending, its relentlessness) we may see its reach exceeding its grasp. Which is not a dishonorable thing."***

Doubt: Did Philip Seymour Hoffman touch that boy?

To answer the question bluntly: we aren't supposed to know. Duh.

I highly recommend seeing the film Doubt, and if every one of the main characters doesn't get nominated for an oscar then I'll probably flip out. It is based on a Tony Award Winning Play and is brought to the screen with such passion and such life that I really felt my heart being tugged at.

The structural originality is something that blows my mind. Meryl Streep for the first act of the film is pretty much a Nazi. She hits boys who don't pay attention during church. She instills fear in the children. May be this is just the libertarian in me talking, but I felt very uncomfortable when she suggested to the teacher that they put a picture of the Pope at the top of the chalk board so that the children would think the teacher had eyes in the back of her head. Talk about totalitarianism. I found Meryl Streep to be highly unsympathetic and Father Flinn to be very sympathetic. He is very open and honest about the concept of Doubt in his sermon which opens the film. He seems honest, tolerant, kind, and progressive. He seems to actually care about the students, unlike Meryl Streep, who just wants to apparently control their humanity.

Point is. Meryl Streep is actually the protagonist. Father Flinn is the antagonist. That is what I love. We don't want to root for the Nazi, but we have to, because we support her determination in exposing the pedophile. I continued to chuckle in my head throughout this movie by asking myself, "can they make this anymore complex." I'm not saying it was hard to understand. I'm saying that the characters are all in difficult situations and you know what - that's life - and I love it how a film can create characters in that very fashion.

I thought the most brilliant shot in the whole film was when Father Flinn knew Meryl Streep had found out. The camera holds on his face for an uncomfortably long time. I was mildly reminded of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. We are staring at the performance. We ask ourselves, "What is going on in his mind?" From my interpretation - his face was a very guilty face. His face did not show me that he was just trying to "protect Donald because he drank the wine." Hoffman did a fantastic job.

In the end. He incriminates himself (at least to the audience and to the Meryl Streep) by falling into her trap and resigning. But the film ends on her admitting that she "has doubts". I had a feeling before the film even began that this film was going to be a metaphor for followers of a religion and how we suffer from doubt.

When Hoffman asks the question "Haven't you ever sinned before?" I believe that Meryl Streep's tears were a foreshadowing of her final line in the film. She knows she has doubts. And the last line of the film isn't just her doubting whether Father Flinn touched Donald, but it is also showing that even a strict Nazi Nun can never be 100% certain in her beliefs. "doubt is as powerful a bond as certainty." 

The direction was very smart because I felt always suspicious. Every camera angle was that of an on looker. Every conversation we watched we were eavesdropping. We felt like we weren't supposed to be hearing what we were hearing or seeing what we were seeing.

The film is about making tough choices and being backed into a corner. I always felt like the opposite of nieve/gullibe is untrusting. Some people try so hard to never be gullible that they become untrusting and always have a barrier between themselves and the rest of the world. Meryl Streep has that barrier. She refuses to trust anything Father Flinn says - and that is the issue that Amy Adam's character has with her.

How can we ever be certain of anything?

This film reminded me of 12 Angry Men. The term "beyond a reasonable doubt." Was Father Flinn beyond a reasonable doubt when it came to child molestation? Probably not. But Meryl Streep didn't care.

How can we strike a balance between certainty and doubt? The film never answers that questions because I don't think there is an answer.

The film's purpose (not it's theme) is to show the audience that they are not alone in the world. That when you doubt something - your friends, your family, your religion - you are not alone. That other people suffer from the same doubts and seek some sort of certainty in their lives. It's about understanding that certainty and doubt are apart of humanity and not something that can be solved.

But isn't it great that you're not the only one questioning things?

The Dark Knight: Is Batman a liar?

No film has made me want to watch it over and over again except for two: Goodfellas and The Dark Knight. It's an odd combination, I know, but you can't hate me for being honest.  I am going to pose a question to you: at the end of the film, did Batman do the right thing?

"Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we'll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he's not the hero. He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. The Dark Knight."

Batman is in essence going to lie to the citizens of Gotham by taking the blame for those Harvey Dent killed. He believes that the masses are not intelligent enough to understand the complexities of the Joker and as such need an infallible hero to believe in. Bruce recognizes that he cannot be that hero. 

I find it hypocritical that Batman tells the Joker after the ships don't blow each other up: "See - see - look there Joker! People are good at heart! They wont fall to your anarchic and terrorist ways!" And then turns around at the end of the film and lies to the people because he doesn't think they can understand the Harvey Dent situation.

Is that bad? Did he have an alternative? Is he right? Am I looking into this too much? Batman is making a decision for Gotham by hiding the truth for the greater good of having an infallible hero to look up to. Batman is not the "hero gotham needs right now". Gotham needed a White Knight - someone they can look up to that turn to criminals and says "look here, Sonny, you are not going to run this town no more!"

But who is it for Batman to be that moral authority? At dinner Harvey argued, "We all appointed Batman by standing around and letting criminals run Gotham." 

But what is the message of the end of the film? That it is okay for Batman to lie because the masses need an infallible hero? Can society really not understand that even our heroes have problems? Is his lying and manipulation reflective of "Big Brother" or other constructions?

To some people the issue is very black and white. To me, I have a problem with Batman's hypocritical deceit - but I cut him some slack. While I disapprove of his manipulation of society - I don't see him doing it for power or political gain. In fact he is taking upon himself more problems by doing this. His lie to Gotham is bad and it sucks that society isn't smart enough to be trusted to understand the Dent situation, but I believe that communities need heroes. 

All cultures have heroes - people from the past who are idealized.

In America, we have our forefathers. I think the question I have about The Dark Knight can be more easily understood in the context of a 5th Grade U.S. History Class. Should, in the curriculum, the teacher emphasize our forefathers being slave owners? 

What if it turned out that Martin Luther King, Jr. actually beat his wife? Would that upset you? Would you prefer not to know that? Which is better: that we ignore a heroes flaws or that we point them out?

Isn't it the point, however, that our heroes are no longer men (or women), but ideas. Don't we idealize Thomas Jefferson not because he was a good guy, but because he stood for freedom? Don't we idealize Dr. King not because he gave good speeches, but because he stood for tolerance and equality? 

At some point I feel that's the issue with Harvey Dent. Is it okay that Batman is going to lie about Dent's failures so that people idealize him? I feel it is because (especially since he's dead) he has become an idea. I believe that Batman's lie is justifiable because Gotham "needs a hero" that stands up for what is right - and even though Dent didn't actually stand up to the Joker - his legacy is too important.

Everyone has their favorite author, filmmaker, artist, musician, (politician?). Batman felt that after all of the chaos Gotham had gone through in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, Gotham needed an infallible hero. Is it wrong that he is lying and artificially constructing the infallibility part because the citizens are too unintelligent to interpret the world beyond the simplistic understand of good and evil?

Does the ends justify the means?

My conclusion isn't an easy one to come to. It upsets me that Batman says he trusts in Gotham's citizens but then feels the need to lie to them. I guess I just buy into the theme of societies need for infallible heroes too much.

"He's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now." Gotham needs a Thomas Jefferson or a Martin Luther King, Jr. Gotham needs someone who represents more than just flesh and blood - but embodies an idea. And should Batman have lied in order to create an infallible hero?

That's for you to decide.