Okay, Adam West will never be thought of as a great actor. But to West's credit, he is the only one of all the Batmen to actually give the character any personality. All the subsequent movie Batmen -- Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney and Christian Bale -- made their mark as Bruce Wayne, but simply disappeared into their costumes when they transformed into Batman. Logical, perhaps, given the demands of the role; it is what they should do, if they were, indeed, to be real-life superheroes, anonymity supposedly being a vital requirement.
But West, with his deadpan yet archly melodramatic delivery, tied the alter egos together, making it all the more ridiculous that Batman could not be recognized as Bruce Wayne. The same was true of Burt Ward's Robin/Dick Grayson. Yet, as transparent as their disguises were, and as arch and campy as their performance were likely to get, there was something more courageous -- as well as outrageous -- about their interpretation of The Dynamic Duo. They didn't "strike fear into the hearts" of criminals through intimidation as dark and threatening symbols of nighttime vengeance, but rather by being incorruptible symbols of goodness and honesty. West's Batman may have worn the dorky cowl, but he did not hide behind it. West's Batman was anything but a creature of the night. As deadpan, square-jawed, ham-bone and self-mocking as West's Batman was, he managed to make the Caped Crusader into something more than a stuntman in an ugly superhero costume.
To some, that more would be less; at least to those who prefer their superheroes to be mysterious, dark and brooding creatures of violence and psychological complexity. Certainly, that was not the goal or even fleeting concern of the makers of the 1960's TV series. Their Batman makes no attempt to embrace or even recognize the supposed complexities of superhero mythology and/or psychology. The TV series, like this quickie/ripoff feature film, refused to take comic books, pop culture and the media seriously -- even as it became a symbol for all three. For that reason it is disliked, or, at most, barely tolerated, by comic book fanatics. But for a generation, "Batman" -- like "The Adventures of Superman" a decade prior -- defined what comic book heroics were all about: the simplistic vision of good versus evil. This "Batman," however, added an element of absurdist farce.
There was an element of brilliance to the 60s Batman that made him a wonderful superhero for the turbulent era. On the one hand "Batman" promoted very traditional virtues, with clearly defined messages about what is good and evil; yet, with tongue firmly in cheek, the show mocked its own simplistic 1950s Americana outlook. The show embraced middle American values, but recognized that those values could quietly encompass eccentric alternatives; an added subversive quality that highlighted the series' gay subtext. It was a kid's show that didn't patronize younger viewers, but could cast a knowing wink at the adults who recognized the sophistication behind the juvenile silliness. Like "The Beverly Hillbillies," "Green Acres," "The Addams Family" and "Get Smart," among others, it was a show that could be dumb in a very smart way. Rather than just being the joke, "Batman" got the joke.
Coming at the peak of the series' success, the big screen version must have seemed like a great idea: make some big bucks off the franchise before the shine wore off. Yet, while the movie captures much of the campiness of the TV show, it was undoubtedly one of many factors that began its inevitable decline. The best way to see something's flaws is to blow it up in size; the worst way to tell a funny joke is to needlessly stretch it out. Instead of making it all bigger and better, the BATMAN movie somehow made it all seem smaller and, well, lamer. This is, after all, a feature film made on a TV show's budget. Next to the James Bond films, BATMAN the movie looks a little bit puny.
Yet there is much to enjoy here, not the least of which is West and Ward, who never miss a beat in their attempt to gain movie stardom. The film is worth watching just to hear West deliver that immortal line "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb!" I think the film falters by not just giving us one good villain but by trying to squeeze in four (the later big screen versions make the same mistake). While it is a kick to see pros like Burgess Meredith, Cesar Romero and Frank Gorshin in all their glory as Penguin, Joker and Riddler, they do tend to get in each others way. Super-villainy is not a team sport, but a colossal ego trip; thus the story lacks focus. Yet even as the film offers up too many crooks, it is regrettable that Julie Newmar wasn't available to fill her signature role as Catwoman. Lee Meriweather does an admirable job, but for fans of the TV show, Newmar will always be the one and only Catwoman.
Production-wise, this BATMAN can't compete with the Tim Burton/Joel Schumacher films that eventually followed. But unlike its successors, BATMAN 1966 is unpretentious, straightforward and cheerfully aware of the basic absurdity of its own mythology, making it the best of the Bats.
But West, with his deadpan yet archly melodramatic delivery, tied the alter egos together, making it all the more ridiculous that Batman could not be recognized as Bruce Wayne. The same was true of Burt Ward's Robin/Dick Grayson. Yet, as transparent as their disguises were, and as arch and campy as their performance were likely to get, there was something more courageous -- as well as outrageous -- about their interpretation of The Dynamic Duo. They didn't "strike fear into the hearts" of criminals through intimidation as dark and threatening symbols of nighttime vengeance, but rather by being incorruptible symbols of goodness and honesty. West's Batman may have worn the dorky cowl, but he did not hide behind it. West's Batman was anything but a creature of the night. As deadpan, square-jawed, ham-bone and self-mocking as West's Batman was, he managed to make the Caped Crusader into something more than a stuntman in an ugly superhero costume.
To some, that more would be less; at least to those who prefer their superheroes to be mysterious, dark and brooding creatures of violence and psychological complexity. Certainly, that was not the goal or even fleeting concern of the makers of the 1960's TV series. Their Batman makes no attempt to embrace or even recognize the supposed complexities of superhero mythology and/or psychology. The TV series, like this quickie/ripoff feature film, refused to take comic books, pop culture and the media seriously -- even as it became a symbol for all three. For that reason it is disliked, or, at most, barely tolerated, by comic book fanatics. But for a generation, "Batman" -- like "The Adventures of Superman" a decade prior -- defined what comic book heroics were all about: the simplistic vision of good versus evil. This "Batman," however, added an element of absurdist farce.
There was an element of brilliance to the 60s Batman that made him a wonderful superhero for the turbulent era. On the one hand "Batman" promoted very traditional virtues, with clearly defined messages about what is good and evil; yet, with tongue firmly in cheek, the show mocked its own simplistic 1950s Americana outlook. The show embraced middle American values, but recognized that those values could quietly encompass eccentric alternatives; an added subversive quality that highlighted the series' gay subtext. It was a kid's show that didn't patronize younger viewers, but could cast a knowing wink at the adults who recognized the sophistication behind the juvenile silliness. Like "The Beverly Hillbillies," "Green Acres," "The Addams Family" and "Get Smart," among others, it was a show that could be dumb in a very smart way. Rather than just being the joke, "Batman" got the joke.
Coming at the peak of the series' success, the big screen version must have seemed like a great idea: make some big bucks off the franchise before the shine wore off. Yet, while the movie captures much of the campiness of the TV show, it was undoubtedly one of many factors that began its inevitable decline. The best way to see something's flaws is to blow it up in size; the worst way to tell a funny joke is to needlessly stretch it out. Instead of making it all bigger and better, the BATMAN movie somehow made it all seem smaller and, well, lamer. This is, after all, a feature film made on a TV show's budget. Next to the James Bond films, BATMAN the movie looks a little bit puny.
Yet there is much to enjoy here, not the least of which is West and Ward, who never miss a beat in their attempt to gain movie stardom. The film is worth watching just to hear West deliver that immortal line "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb!" I think the film falters by not just giving us one good villain but by trying to squeeze in four (the later big screen versions make the same mistake). While it is a kick to see pros like Burgess Meredith, Cesar Romero and Frank Gorshin in all their glory as Penguin, Joker and Riddler, they do tend to get in each others way. Super-villainy is not a team sport, but a colossal ego trip; thus the story lacks focus. Yet even as the film offers up too many crooks, it is regrettable that Julie Newmar wasn't available to fill her signature role as Catwoman. Lee Meriweather does an admirable job, but for fans of the TV show, Newmar will always be the one and only Catwoman.
Production-wise, this BATMAN can't compete with the Tim Burton/Joel Schumacher films that eventually followed. But unlike its successors, BATMAN 1966 is unpretentious, straightforward and cheerfully aware of the basic absurdity of its own mythology, making it the best of the Bats.