You probably would have ended up with the same conclusions after your second viewing anyways. Its such a dense film that its impossible to take all its facets in at once!

Cheers,

- Nick

Btw, I don’t know if you’ve read up about the film’s production, but you are spot-on about identifying “The Killing Joke” and “The Dark Knight Returns” as major influences; Nolan specifically mentions that the former work was the primary inspiration for the Joker in this film.

I’m going to see it again tomorrow, hopefully. I may have some additional thoughts yet…

In the instance of Bruce Wayne/Batman and the Joker, both share a similar point of origin (a traumatic youth wrought by violence), yet are diametrically opposed in the means by which they’ve coped with its reality. Specifically, both have attempted to regain (or reclaim) a sense of agency over violence, the vehicle for which is a persona that they’ve created: Batman and the Joker.
I would argue that their divergence goes deeper than simply the opposition between primal forces of order and chaos. I believe that the persona coping-mechanism utilized by both is ultimately what guides their ethos, and can be observed beyond their actions and interactions within the persona itself.

Wayne and Batman are ostensibly two discreet identities, with certain roles relegated to either one; Wayne participates in society, whereas Batman serves to preserve it; an activity that is coterminus with Wayne’s attempt at dealing with his childhood trauma, attempting to “fix” before it happens again (e.g. classic case of compulsive neurosis from guilt). In this sense Batman is the personification of order; Batman is order only insofar as chaos threatens Wayne’s sense of agency (as violent criminality is synonymous with chaos within the diegesis). Thus I believe that Mitch correctly identifies Wayne’s need for Batman originating not from personal gratification; though I would go a step further to assert it instead originates from a deep-seated anxiety and guilt.

The Joker, on the other hand, deals with (presumably) the same issues, but has arrived at a very different mode of compensation. Instead of assuming the role of order to retroactively combat his past victimizers, the Joker has identified with the very pain itself, internalizing it and becoming it, obliterating his entire sense of self. With the Joker, there is no original person that the persona points back to, as the persona was born at the precise moment that whoever the Joker used to be was destroyed by their reality. (That we never see the Joker without his make-up off is very meaningful; he’s a mask without a face underneath, even wearing a second mask in his introduction).
As such, this is the point of the Joker: that peoples’ habitual lives are the only things separating them from what the Joker is: the void. His wanton destruction serves to illustration the attachments that people need to protect themselves from the Joker’s truth, which is why he is at once damningly erratic as well as ruthless. This is also what the Joker means when he professes to Batman: “You complete me.” The Joker could kill Batman, but it wouldn’t serve the Joker’s paradigm. Rather, if the Joker can goad Batman into destroying himself, in the same way that the Joker’s original identity did, then the Joker’s agency would be realized. In other words, if the Joker can force the Batman to become the very thing he stands against, once more demonstrating the arbitrarily cruelty and violence inherent in the world. Indeed, this is the significance of Harvey “Two-Face” Dent’s role in the film.

Harvey Dent and his “Two-Face” persona, serve as an example of what would happen to Wayne if Batman failed to maintain the integrity of his purpose. Two-Face is in fact a near perfect blend between Batman and the Joker: the only true and blind justice in the world is remorseless cruelty. Additionally, Two-Face also demonstrates the perils of the persona being influenced by the emotional needs of its creator; Two-Face’s drive to exact revenge on Gordon is akin to a sacrificial lamb; it doesn’t matter who suffers, as long as someone else does to. As Two-Face retorts to Gordon’s protests of his son’s innocence: “But its fair!” Harvey’s persona has become so corrupted by his grief that even innocence has become divorced from pardon, as his reality equates cruelty with justice.

What ends up saving both Wayne and his Batman persona is the recognition of their separation; that Batman can do and be things, even things that Wayne finds abhorrant. Ironically, Wayne protects the order his anxiety needs by allowing his persona to take paradoxical responsibility for transgressions he did not commit. (This paradox has much more to it, but I don’t have coherent thoughts formed about it yet. My guess is that the next installment will develop it further). Additionally, it also allows Batman to “win” over the Joker: he becomes a violent figure, but falsely, diffusing the Joker’s intended consequent.

In summation, I must insist that in this film, Batman is not an intrinsically fascistic character; only in outward appearance. This is more true in the comics (from the “Year One” era and onward), and particularly so of Frank Miller (as in everything he does…). And I believe that the reason for this lies in the comparisons constructed between these three principle Janus-complicated characters, and more importantly, owing to the emphasis on the distinction between the person and their persona.

—–

In reference to the late Heath Ledger:

Insofar as the film portrayal of the Joker is a mask without a face, the fact that the man who performed the role is now deceased lends a disturbing (and tragic)intertextual dimension. Though personally, I think that the strength of the Joker performance is strong enough to have achieved the same eerie effect, were Ledger still alive today. I wouldn’t read too much into it beyond how unfortunately a propos it is for the character.

Incidentally, what is with film characters who don face paint and then immediately die? Does anybody else find that surreal?