Most morality tales depict a simple world where a clearly defined struggle between good and evil plays out, where recognizably good values do not conflict with one another, and where the unjust are punished and the righteous rewarded. This Manichaean structure underlies most superhero narratives – the thème du jour on the silver screen. Take recent films such as Spider-Man and Superman Returns, for example. Although they dazzle us with special effects and provide a means of escape from our harsh realm of reality, these pictures are morally uncomplicated. They may entertain, but they do not provoke. They can be considered part of our culture, but not part of our Art. This is why writer and director Christopher Nolan’s installments of the Batman series, first with Batman Begins (released in 2005), and then with The Dark Knight (released last summer), have been such remarkable achievements. They are simultaneously blockbuster action-adventure thrillers and heart-wrenching portrayals of the tragic dimensions of our moral universe.
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Superhero stories pose an often overlooked dilemma for democratic societies. The hero may stand opposed to crime and corruption; but viewed in a different light he is a vigilante running afoul of the laws of the city he professes to protect. This creates tension between two noble ends that appear at first glance to be fully compatible: between justice and the rule of law – but as the late Isaiah Berlin taught us, even the most highly-regarded liberal ideals don’t always harmonize. For instance, equality can often come only at the expense of liberty, and liberty at the expense of equality. So too with justice and law. If justice is defined as appropriate retribution against those who transgress moral norms, then in certain cases it must be sacrificed to uphold the letter of the law, and vice versa. Man-made legislation is not necessarily just. Nor does it always even allow for the pursuit and attainment of justice. This begs some troubling questions that the superhero – and, for that matter, all citizens – inevitably must confront: What is to be done when the gap between law and justice becomes too great to bear? Are there circumstances in which the rule of law, that putative bedrock of modern democracy, should be suspended or ignored altogether?
These were the philosophical questions that permeated Batman Begins, which prompted us to follow in the footsteps of Socrates by thinking deeply about the nature of justice. A cinematic Bildungsroman in many ways [‘story of moral development’ – ed], Batman Begins took us back to Bruce Wayne’s childhood to witness the event that catalysed his evolution into the Caped Crusader. Bruce’s parents were murdered in front of him by a common street thug in downtown Gotham City – a random but not unusual shooting in a society being overwhelmed by criminal activity. Some years later, when things have only become worse, we see Bruce at the thug’s parole hearing with a gun in hand, ready to exact revenge. But as the killer leaves the courtroom, a mafia hit-man shoots him before Bruce has the chance to (the thug had turned state’s evidence against the mob). Bruce’s opportunity to avenge the death of his parents is lost, but he has also been saved from a descent into murder. Later, Bruce reveals to his childhood friend Rachel Dawes, now Assistant District Attorney of Gotham, what he had planned to do, and why:
