Season’s greetings from a bat, a cat, and a penguin.
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
We all know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all that noise, right? There are tons of Christmas movies from neo-classics like Elf to old time favorites like A Miracle on 34th St to Hallmark’s 1000 new films each year to that Hot Frosty movie on Netflix that’s getting all the buzz. We have all seen these and we all have our favorites and least favorites. And, each year there are hundreds of film bros who tell you that Die Hard is their favorite Christmas movie, too. This is a valid selection, for sure… at least, in our eyes… as Christma is in the eye of the beholder. So, this year, in the spirit of John McClane, we present some other films that are secretly Christmas films. – Justin Harlan
The Pick: Batman Returns(1992)
Our “actually a Christmas movie” month concludes with one of the best examples this sub-genre of film has to offer, 1992’s Batman Returns. The movie that scared little kids (with the exception of your’s truly, who ate up every minute of it) was a summertime hit when first released, but quickly took its place between Edward Scissorhands and The Nightmare Before Christmas as the centerpiece of director Tim Burton’s ode to the holidays. With a memorable Christmas tree lighting in the Gotham City center and the sexiest use of mistletoe ever committed to film, Batman Returns is loaded with enough dark comedy and gothic trappings to make the Christmas season a mix of the festive and macabre. – Frank Calvillo
Talking about Batman Returns always winds up feeling extremely personal, as the word “favorite” never fails to get thrown around multiple times when it comes up. It’s my favorite Tim Burton film (featuring my favorite sequence from his films) and my favorite Batman film, as well as featuring my favorite performance from one of my all-time favorite actresses. See, that’s a lot of favorites, but it can’t be helped. This particular chapter in the cinematic saga of the Caped Crusader ticks all the boxes for me and I will never stop wishing we’d had some additional Burton entries in the canon.
The balance between the heightened comic origins of Batman and the gritty, harsh reality of live-action Gotham is struck perfectly by Burton. Even the most outlandish antics are still dripping with menace, and the true villain is an all-too-real tycoon who knows the rules don’t apply to him (played with sinister understatement by Christopher Walken). Given its Christmas season setting, Gotham City is transformed into a frozen nightmare, with the metal hellscape of the zoo where the Penguin’s lair resides being a pinnacle of production design. The snowy darkness gives Burton his own personal playground, where shadows tell their own story. The effect of Selina Kyle’s glasses casting an ominous cat-like mask on her face as she’s about to be transformed into her feline alter ego is remarkable.
Donning his mask for a second time is Michael Keaton. I enjoy Keaton’s performance more and more with every rewatch. His choices always keep him firmly Bruce Wayne. To him, Batman is simply Bruce Wayne with a mask on, a way of hiding his identity, but not an entirely different person. It’s what makes his connection to Selina Kyle land so well in their final moments together. Danny DeVito relishes every second as the grotesque Penguin, the role that takes this film into the truly macabre. Like my compliment to Burton above, DeVito grounds the Penguin’s most cartoonish actions in a grim reality, which makes him all the more fiendish. His over-the-top flirtations with Catwoman are a delight.
This brings me to the true reason for the season: the demonically divine Michelle Pfeiffer as Selina Kyle/Catwoman. To solely focus on Pfeiffer’s iconic Catwoman is to do a disservice to her performance, as her introduction as the skittish secretary is just as incredible, with her nervous tics as she serves the businessmen their coffee and her hysterically calling herself a “stupid corndog” afterward. Which brings me to the favorite scene I mentioned earlier: Selina’s transformation into Catwoman. Her interaction with Walken’s Schreck that kicks the whole thing off is brilliant, as you see Selina realizing all too late that being the best secretary is going to get her killed; after she’s shoved from the window, the marriage between Burton’s gruesome creativity and Pfeiffer’s fearless performance ignites the screen. Cats essentially lick her back to life, she returns dazed and confused to her childish apartment, and the descent into hell commences. Smashing everything in her path, Pfeiffer is exhilarating as she emerges as the newest vigilante in Gotham, feeling “so much yummier.” If you have not watched the clip of her doing her own bullwhip stunts and knocking the heads off the mannequins in one take, run to YouTube and watch it. You’ll thank me!
While not It’s a Wonderful Life, Batman Returns earns its place as a Christmastime viewing necessity. Pfeiffer’s performance alone is a gift; that it happens to be featured in such a perfect package of a film is a holiday miracle. “How about a kiss, Santy Claus?”
Batman Returns traumatized me as a child. Tim Burton’s most frightening imagery operates within a gothic carnival dream-logic, a perfect trap for a developing frontal lobe to latch onto. Among the most terrifying films I’ve ever seen, it’s easily the most haunting one starring Batman. Decapitated mannequins, attempted infanticide, a taser to the face, a fatal Christmas tree-lighting ceremony, and the Caped Crusader casually murdering someone—this is all before we even discuss one of cinema’s most horrific creations: Oswald Cobblepot, the sewer-dweller turned Gotham mayoral candidate. Played with greasy, feral intensity by Danny DeVito, Cobblepot’s master plan—a coordinated extermination of Gotham’s firstborn sons as biblical vengeance for his own abandonment—fueled countless childhood nightmares of a penguin with a rocket launcher lowering a younger version of me (also a firstborn) into a sewer grave.
Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) was a visual masterpiece and an extraordinary commercial success. It perfectly captured the comic book sensibilities of Frank Miller’s grim Gotham, blending them with the grayscale of 1930s noir and the angular towers of 1920s German Expressionism. The result was as transportive as Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner. But with Batman Returns, Burton discarded the noir influence and fidelity to the comics, embracing pure German Expressionism to craft a borderline subversive blockbuster. Oscillating between the ridiculous and the sublime, it’s perhaps the purest expression of Burton’s artistic vision—a precursor to directors like Ang Lee, Sam Raimi, Christopher Nolan, Ryan Coogler, and James Gunn, who adapted beloved characters with deeply personal, stylistic interpretations.
Batman Returns is far from perfect. It’s overly long and occasionally too convoluted. But who cares, coherence has a short shelf life. The climax—featuring a battalion of penguins armed with rocket launchers—is as unruly as it is unforgettable, a surreal spectacle leagues beyond the formulaic third acts of most Marvel films.
But what Batman Returns has that the first film lacked is Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman. Pfeiffer delivers a brilliant, sexually charged performance, infusing the film with heat and danger that pushes its PG-13 rating to the brink. “You’re always confusing your pistols with your privates,” she taunts a pair of hapless mall cops, dripping menace and innuendo. Her arc—charting a journey of misogynist abuse, murderous betrayal, and resurrection—evokes the feminist rage of rape-revenge thrillers like Ms. 45, filtered through Burton’s surrealist lens. For all the visual splendor, the standout sequence is Catwoman’s transformation: wrecking her drab apartment, cramming plushies down the garbage disposal, drinking milk straight from the carton, and fetishistically sewing herself into her vinyl catsuit. It’s cathartic, terrifying, and utterly unforgettable.
The film also functions as a wickedly funny Cassandra, forecasting the dark clouds looming over America. Christopher Walken’s Max Shreck—a sleazy, dead-eyed industrialist—is all too recognizable, while DeVito’s grotesque, oddly charismatic Penguin manipulates public sentiment with spectacle and lies. The Penguin’s downfall—his contempt for his base revealed via incriminating audiotape—feels eerily prescient. It’s impossible not to think of modern political figures who have risen on outsider bravado and populism, only to expose their disdain for their own followers. I often wish DeVito’s real-world counterpart would meet a similar fate, rejected by his supporters and raging before slinking into obscurity. Walken and DeVito’s performances serve as savage reminders that real-world villains don’t need costumes.
Oh, right—Michael Keaton is in this movie, too. It’s telling how long it takes to mention the titular character. Keaton remains a fantastic Batman, carrying a bemused detachment that fits the chaos surrounding him. This restraint keeps the tone balanced and approachable, particularly when the villains steal the spotlight. His chemistry with Pfeiffer is electric, their scenes simmering with tension, particularly during the masked ballroom dance—a poignant mix of romance and melancholy.
For my money, Batman Returns represents the artistic apex of the Batman franchise. Its grotesque beauty, unsettling performances, and operatic exploration of power and identity transcend the superhero genre. It’s not just a Batman movie—it’s Tim Burton at his boldest, crafting a cinematic yuletide nightmare that lingers long after the credits roll.
The Burton Batman films are widely beloved and cherished. While certain aspects haven’t aged phenomenally, they are largely still considered among the best superhero screen adaptations – at least pre-MCU. And, for this Batman megafan – complete with a large comic style Batman tattoo – I hold these films in extremely high esteem.
While my childhood preference was easily the OG… the clown prince of crime, the origin story, the awkward dining room scene, all of it! But, the extra dark part 2 has surpassed the original as I’ve grown up. There’s a richness and complexity above the original, in both characters and story. The Burton quirks are more pronounced, as well. And Danny DeVito chews on the scenery as much as he chews on fish (and… people).
I genuinely love this movie and I love revisiting it. In the past several years, I’ve returned to it almost annually and it still hits perfectly every time.
A perfect wrap up to the December to Remember event here at Cinapse, so I must thank Michelle for starring in this film, thus leading Frank to champion it as one of our selections.
Sure, Batman Returns is a Christmas movie. But it’s also a weird, stylish, sexed-up superhero tale that has only gotten more beloved, and more prescient, as time has crept on and given it plenty of space from the film that came before it, not to mention the sequels that came after.
Just listen to the anger Selina Kyle speaks to Bruce Wayne regarding the billionaire Max Schreck, who murdered her with his own hands: “Don’t give me a ‘killing Max won’t solve anything’ speech because it will. Aren’t you tired of this sanctimonious robber baron always coming out on top when he should be six feet under?”
Could there be a more “of the moment” character motivation as we reevaluate this film here in 2024 in the wake of the murder of a healthcare CEO at the hands of an angry crusader, or as we witness the wealthiest man in the world buy his way into political power? Or as we see a billionaire convicted criminal ascend once again to the highest office in the land? I didn’t expect Catwoman to represent the voice of the downtrodden looking to claw back some safety and assurance of a better future, but here we are. To be clear I’m not advocating for violence personally, but rather noting the relevance of Catwoman’s rage here in 2024.
While I’ve always enjoyed Returns, it’s never quite held a candle to the ‘89 original for me. That said, it does only get better upon each rewatch, and this go-round was no different. In fact, while I know the return of Michael Keaton to the cowl didn’t go so hot with The Flash, I’d very much advocate for a legasequel re-teaming a hot post-Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Tim Burton with Michael Keaton and Michelle Pfeiffer to cap their trilogy with a late in life tale of Bruce and Selina that ignores Batman Forever and Batman & Robin. A fan can dream, and in an era where Batman remains king and has proven multiple times that he can sustain multiple, seemingly incongruous franchises with tons of messy overlap (or lack thereof), why not wrap up a trilogy that the world has always wanted and never gotten?!
Biggest surprise coming into the Two Cents is that, apparently, I’m in the minority of having this in my yearly Christmas rotation. I mean, to be fair, all the Christmas-y stuff is pretty much in the first 10 minutes or so, but it always had that vibe to me.
One of those films that ends up being shaggier than you remember with each viewing, but is still able to both capture the gothic charm of the first one, while also amplifying the straight up weirdo elements that seem to come out when Burton gets a blank check film; namely, how incredibly horny this is, while also being intensely repulsive at times.
First, the horny; Gone is the subdued, conservative performance of Kim Basinger in the first, and in comes Michelle Pfeiffer, slinking around the film like a world-class femme fatale as Selina, then, as Catwoman, stalking the night in stitched together skin tight leather, both sultry and dangerous in her approach to every man in the film. Burton has dropped any pretense of “hero or villain” with Catwoman, and has just made his perfect woman on screen; incredibly sexy and threatening.
Then, the repulsive; I don’t mean to be hyperbolic here, but DeVito might be the most disgusting villain ever put to screen. A combination of grotesque prosthetics, which turn DeVito into something closer to a circus sideshow than a comic book villain, paired with DeVito’s 100% commitment to the bit create a sickening beast of a character; something dredged from the sewers that shouldn’t be breathing, let alone eating raw fish in front of you. DeVito’s penguin is like a car crash; something you feel the need to turn away from when you see it, but can’t stop the urge to look back at in macabre fascination. Kinda shocked that a producer didn’t walk on set, take one look at DeVito, and demand something less “birth defect” for their $100 million dollar childrens movie. But, nobody ever said “no”, so we have one of the greatest movie villain performances of all time because of it.
Won’t get into how the plot kinda just meanders, and definitely sags in the 2nd act, because this is just one of those films that works on “vibes”, and the specific vibe here is: Have a happy, horny, gothic Christmas!
Another Christmas, another revisiting of Batman Returns. The placement of this movie in the lineup works perfectly since it comes on the heels of the annual December screening Alamo Drafthouse puts on of this growing Christmas classic. As screenings of Elf and Christmas Vacation play down the hall, those who prefer a decidedly offbeat Christmas tale once again flock to Tim Burton’s Gotham.
It’s hard to ignore year after year just how much Michael Keaton’s Batman feels like a supporting player in his own movie, it’s only because he’s forced to share the screen with two such memorable costars. Danny DeVito’s Penguin steals almost every scene he’s in with his grotesque appearance and endless supply of one-liners. The actor sinks his teeth into the outrageousness of the character, but also manages to pay homage to Oswald Cobblepot’s tragic backstory, culminating in an end scene that’s genuinely moving.
But if there’s one figure most remember when they think of Batman Returns, it’s Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman. Famously labeled by Burton as his favorite performance of any he directed, Pfeiffer has a ball bringing the dark side of Selina Kyle to life. Her transformation from an invisible secretary/assistant to a woman embracing her true feline nature is a joy to behold in every classic moment from the destruction of her apartment to the uttering of the iconic “meow.” Too often written off as a villain, Batman Returns is the best example of Catwoman’s true anti-hero nature. She’s not out for power or domination the way Penguin is. What she wants is simply to revel in her actual self after years of being overlooked by society.
Batman Returns strangely plays more violent today than it did in 1992 (although those complaints were plentiful back then) while the script’s various sexual innuendos feel just as racy. Still, Batman Returns remains what Burton intended it to be: a playful dark fantasy tale thats draped in shades of German expressionism and tongue-in-cheek humor. Touches like Jan Hooks’ amusing cameo and the Siouxsie and the Banshees “Face to Face” needle drop (perfectly timed to Pfeiffer’s incredible entrance) are certainly of the time, but there’s a universal quality to the movie that can be found in the overall production design (so much about it feels eerily timeless) and in the trio of leads. While it features three of the most iconic characters ever to come out of the comic book world, Batman Returns actually plays as a sympathetic tribute to those destined to exist on the margins of society; those who have been shunned, ignored, or forced to conceal themselves because they never really belonged. Nowhere is that feeling more prevalent and palpable than at Christmastime in Gotham City.
In an effort to combat the January blues (not to mention other devastating events taking place that month), the Two Cents crew here at Cinapse have decided to dive into the world of classic screwball comedies. The likes of Carole Lombard, Ernst Lubitsch, Barbara Stanwyck, Jack Benny, and Elaine May are all on deck to chase away those winter blues with a collection of movies that range from the romantic, to the scandalous. Spend the month with us and some side-splitting laughs from the masters who made the genre the riotous (and slightly subversive) staple that it remains to this day.
In this world, the future of humanity comes in the form of a refugee woman of color and her baby girl, who carries the hope of future generations. The film’s racist, xenophobic future dystopia (informed by our own racist, xenophobic present) is about to get wiped off the existential chalkboard.
It’s practically the stuff of resistance these days for a film’s hero to learn wisdom from children about the purity and beauty of honor, and play, and radical acceptance despite winning or losing.
