Batman: Mask of the Phantasm

Batman: Mask of the Phantasm is now heralded as the first film in the DC Animated Universe (since everything must have a label for marketing purposes.) The project was started as a direct-to-video idea and clearly drew directly from the angle on the mythos laid down by Batman: The Animated Series, not least because most of the regulars of the crew on BTAS (Bruce Timm, Paul Dini, et al) were the leaders on Mask, too. But when the series became a hit, both commercially and critically, Warner decided that they could really make a splash by releasing it in the theater. It was a big gamble and it didn't really pay off, since the audience for BTAS was dedicated, but film was a very different (ahem) universe to television back in the day and Mask failed to make its money back until it was later released on home video, as originally intended. What turning it into a production intended for the (literal) big screen also meant was that it had a target date and one sooner than most animated features work with. A typical two-year production process was reduced to eight months. That meant a lot fewer notes and input from the studio which, in the end, probably made it a better story, since Timm and Co. had much more control over what turns it would take.

Of course, they also kinda had it mapped out for them, since Mask, um, borrows from Mike W. Barr's Batman: Year Two extensively; right down to the appearance of the primary villain (The Reaper in Barr's story; The Phantasm in the film.) There was initially some pushback from the studio, but Barr pointed out the extraordinary similarities of both plotline and visuals and they eventually conceded the creative license that had been taken. Like Steve Engelhart, Barr received an initial payment. Unlike Steve, that was followed by royalties, since those were easier to identify in the case of a film release, as opposed to a single episode of a series (again, different formats, different function.) And, right from the outset, you can see the difference in production value from the TV series, as well. The opening sequence that takes us through the skyscrapers of Gotham City was entirely computer-generated, a very rare thing at that time which had exploded into the public mindset six months earlier with the release of Jurassic Park. But even in the regular course of the animation, it's immediately obvious that more frames are in use and more time and attention was poured into the artwork. To the enormous credit of primary screenwriter Alan Burnett, he avoided the typical origin story nonsense and simply used those elements of Year Two that drive the young Bruce Wayne into making some crucial decisions about just how he would carry out this personal (caped) crusade. Burnett was latter joined by Paul Dini, Martin Pasko, and Michael Reaves on script duties and there's some debate about whose decision it was to include the Batman's primary nemesis, the Clown Prince of Crime, not only in the plot of the film, but also as a way to show his deeper connection with his opposite number as young Bruce is just getting started. Burnett initially didn't want to include any of the regular rogues' gallery, precisely to avoid weakening the story with a marketing angle and including the Joker is a very obvious sop to regular audiences but weaving that story into the not-quite-an-origin plot also brings them closer together and heightens that deeper understanding between both characters and audience. It also gave Mark Hamill the chance to do the performance of a lifetime, unhindered by TV's "children's programming" censors. It's without question his best appearance in the role and that's saying quite a bit.

Speaking of that lack of censorship, you didn't even need the sharper edge to the Ace of Knaves to realize that this story was created with a mature audience in mind. Not only was both the violence and the effects of that violence (an often overlooked aspect to much of American media) more prominent, with the lasting wounds, visible blood spatter, and the Joker losing a tooth at one point, but there's also the even greater taboo of American sensors: implicit sex! Bruce Wayne and Andrea Beaumont (a very capable Dana Delany) are shown kissing for lengthy periods and, at one point, retire to Bruce's bedchamber only to later emerge with him wearing only pajama bottoms and her wearing only the shirt he had on when they went there. That, of course, lends itself to the presentation of more complex characters (People have sex!) and, thus, a more complex story. There was a limit, though, as although the best use of the Jokervenom in the BTAS sphere was present, as we see Councilman Arthur Reeves laughing hysterically and in obvious agony, but the script stops short of the end of most encounters with that substance in the comics (aka death.) There are also some deeper emotional angles explored, as we watch Bruce struggle not only with losing the love of his life, but also with the implications of holding on to her and abandoning the mission of vengeance he swore on the lives of his parents. There's a great reference to that when Alfred speaks of how "vengeance blackens the soul", which is what he feels happened to Andrea and what he feared would happen to Bruce, who instead tempered that rage with the concept of justice, even if it restrained him from doing what he'd really like to.

That's not to say that everything was positive from a writing angle. In Batman: Year Two, Barr didn't have to explain how The Reaper acquired the technology he uses. It's just comics and things are sometimes like that. But not only did Andrea, who declared her desire for vengeance based on the mob ruining her family and leading to her father's death, show up with a fancy gauntlet weapon while ostensibly "broke", but also the ability to dissolve into self-generated mist and reappear elsewhere. That's a superpower whether it comes from fancy tech or a radioactive spider. There's no origin story for that stuff, which is good because that breaks the narrative and forces exposition, but it's also something of a plot hole when the driving force for much of the plot is that personal motivation that has everything to do with money (that her father owed and that the mob extracted.) On a smaller level, I fail to see what the rationale was for the Joker rigging the entire park to explode in the final action sequence. Granted, asking for a "rationale" from that character is usually a pointless endeavor, but this just seemed to be kind of a ham-handed deus ex machina to add threat to a situation that otherwise wouldn't have had as much. The counterpoint to adding elements is also reducing them. Much was made in act 1 about The Batman being suspected of killing off the mob. That whole angle blew away in the breeze, despite all of the revelatory moments being very personal ones between Bruce and Andrea. In the TV series, there would at least have been a brief mention of this resolution in a final scene, however treacly. But those are pretty minor flaws for what is, in the end, a solid story and among the better DC films that I've seen, although that bar is not set particularly high. The entire production was done with a great sense of style and that's exemplified no better than in The Batman's final swing from a building ledge, cloak billowing us into darkness and the end credits.