Why so serious?
Remembering the lighter side of Gotham City
This week's highly anticipated opening of The Dark Knight has blocked many a sidewalk with queues of fans eager to continue their love affair with the Batman franchise. We have been inundated with reviews, blogs, TV commercial tie-ins and countless other media references, almost all overshadowed by the buzz of a posthumous Oscar nomination for Heath Ledger's stunning portrayal of The Joker.
Love it or hate it, you have to admit that we've come a long way from the campy TV series of the 1960s, which put a self-mocking spin on the superhero genre. Thanks to syndication reruns, Adam West was the definitive Batman to most people for more than 20 years, even after Tim Burton resurrected the character as a brooding, solitary figure in a nightmarish Gotham City, complete with a scenery-chewing performance by Jack Nicholson as a truly evil Joker.
Even now, as the latest film pushes this motif even deeper into that dark, dangerous alley, leaving audiences anxiously awaiting the next instalment, there is still a lot to be said for the old TV series, which introduced millions of children to the Caped Crusader and his gallery of colourful villains.
But by the early 1990s, an aging Adam West's prospects had declined to the point where he was touring with a replica of the Batmobile and selling autographed photos of himself at car shows across North America. When the show came to Montreal, my precocious six-year-old son insisted we go down to Place Bonaventure and meet the man who played Bruce Wayne and Batman on the TV series he loved so much. I must admit that I too was a bit excited. After all, this was a man who had worked with the Three Stooges!
Once inside the exposition hall, we stood in line for a long time, delayed by a fan ahead of us who insisted on presenting the actor with a 24- by 36-inch oil painting he had done of the Batmobile. West politely declined the gift, not only because of its size but also because, for some unexplained reason, the car had been rendered in a shocking pink instead of the standard midnight black. A heated conversation followed, and everyone had to wait until a security guard appeared to escort the artist and his pink painting from the premises.
When we finally got to West's table, my son engaged his hero in a lively chat about the various actors who had guest-starred as villains on the old series, most of whom he had seen in movies and other TV shows. West told us he always felt privileged to have worked with some of Hollywood's most accomplished actors. The filmographies of Burgess Meredith (The Penguin) and Cesar Romero (The Joker) alone attest to the calibre of actor the Batman series attracted.
As a connoisseur and collector of silent films (admittedly a hobby that attracts little interest these days), I was most impressed by the little-known fact that Neil Hamilton (Commissioner Gordon) had been a leading man in several dramas by the godfather of pioneer filmmakers, D.W. Griffith. When I mentioned this, West chuckled. "And the old ham never let us forget it," he said. "Whenever our director made a tough decision, Neil would pipe up, 'That's not the way Mr. Griffith would have done it!'"
Now, as West's career has soared again, this time playing himself in an animated role as the insane mayor of Quahog in the cartoon series Family Guy, he doesn't have to pay the bills by selling his own autograph at car shows and county fairs. But no matter what he does, he will always be remembered first and foremost as the TV Batman, whose comic take on the concept still looms large over Gotham City. We are fortunate to have a very creative and entertaining series of newer films that can shock, thrill, and even horrify us — but West's Batman will always be there to remind us that this is all pure escapist fantasy and should never be taken seriously.