Leaving “Batman Begins” in the dust, “The Dark Knight” is a movie so utterly comfortable with the idea of a man fighting crime in the guise of a bat that the film’s drama is never overshadowed by the self-consciousness costumed superhero thing. Without having to worry anymore about Bruce Wayne’s essential pathology and his rationale for donning a costume, co-writers Chris and Jonathan Nolan are free to examine the consequences and challenges, both for Wayne and other key players in Gotham, that comes with Batman’s crusade. Thus, we get a Batman distilled from his richest characterizations in the comics; Batman as a formidable detective, Batman as a highly inventive but non-lethal combatant, Batman as the Joker’s symbiotic opposite, Batman as a mere man trying to make a difference while stuck in a vicious moral quagmire. It’s this last bit — the doubt — that fuels the film’s vital theme: How do moral people cope with the moral chaos inflicted by criminals who abide by no rules?

First Guns, Then Came Bombs

The complex, ambiguous answer spans a gamut of characters beyond Bruce Wayne, giving the story a meaningful psychological depth. There’s the tough idealism of Lt. Gordon, Gary Oldman’s passionately played policeman whose qualities as family man and upholder of justice are severely tested. Alongside him is Harvey Dent, a man whose idealistic crusade is so bold it carries with it the image of Icarus flying too close to the sun. The script asks a lot of Aaron Eckhart with a character whose immense sympathy and tragedy illustrates, far better than what George Lucas attempted with Anakin Skywalker’s turn to the dark side, how good intentions can build hell’s infrastructure. Eckhart plays it in an effectively understated and, I suspect, underrated performance. And in the role of Rachel Dawes, Bruce Wayne’s childhood friend and love interest introduced in “Batman Begins,” Maggie Gyllenhaal delivers such a simmering performance we can be thankful she replaced Katie Holmes. With the character’s crucial role in the film – the love interest that is more than it appears – it’s impossible to imagine Holmes delivering the much-needed nuance Gyllenhaal provides. Rounding out the cast are the impeccable moral stalwarts of the story, Lucius Fox and Alfred played with all the dignity Freeman and Caine have at their command.

Batman, Gordon, Dent, Dawes, Fox and Alfred; the forces of good in a city recovering from its past mob infestation only to find that when the knife fight is over, in come the guns. And when the guns run out of ammo, the bombs let loose. Heath Ledger makes a brilliant phenomenon out of his Joker; bizarre, twitchy, grotesque, darkly comic, terrifying. Where Nicholson – whose performance remains an intact landmark – emphasized a gleeful Joker’s psychopathic insanity, Ledger zeroes in on the Joker as a potent terrorist symbol. Batman is pitted against a foe who is more than a mere criminal menace; he’s a philosophical threat rooted in a bleak view of human nature.

A Praiseworthy Script

The Nolan brothers’ script – outstanding in its Shakepearean scope – renders the clash with the epic yet gritty fervour of a Michael Mann crime drama. (“Heat,” apparently, was an inspiration for the film.) Tension builds and builds until reaching a fever-pitch, keeps going until it seems unbearable, then goes on some more. How much punishment can Gotham take? What begins as a success in the struggle against crime becomes part of the Joker’s escalating bid to hand Batman a soul-deadening ideological defeat. “The night is darkest before dawn,” says Harvey Dent. With good reason: The night gets very, very dark in an unremitting study of crime. People die — lots of people. Countless more are threatened. A city’s faith in itself is bloodied. One could only imagine what would happen if the Joker hooked up with Ra’s Al Ghul.

But it would be a mistake to assume that the dawn never comes in “The Dark Knight,” even if the Nolans wisely forego venturing into the sunrise. Forget the expectations that come with superhero movies; “The Dark Knight” doesn’t compromise its noir vision in either its development or ending by computing the usual equation. Instead, the Nolans put forth a smartly constructed script with layered themes and unpredictable developments. They are adept at misdirection; “The Dark Knight” is never directly about what it seems to be about. The Joker’s reign of terror is cover for the tragedy of Harvey Dent, Gotham’s White Knight. Dent’s melted wings underscore Batman’s quest for justice. Batman’s crusade highlights why, self-effacement notwithstanding, he is ultimately a heroic figure however complex and founded in tragedy. As a whole, the film calls into question what happens when good people do nothing.

Not quite up to par with Nolan’s storytelling vision, however, is his vision of Gotham as a city. Where he amalgamated various cities into a forgettable whole in “Batman Begins,” here he doesn’t even bother with rendering Gotham as anything more than a barely-concealed Chicago. When recognized for what it is, it’s a distraction. (Look! There’s the river! Look! There’s the El!) Were it not for the considerable strength of its characters, plot and actors, Gotham’s lack of personality – in the name of Nolan’s much-vaunted “realism” – would translate into a lack of atmosphere. Compounding the problem is how Nolan’s no-frills direction also yields the occasional strange choice of shot. Case in point: When presenting a character hanging upside down, Nolan rotates the camera to keep said character’s face right-side up. In pandering to potential audience vertigo, if that’s what he’s doing, he misses out on the artful. Then again, “The Dark Knight” follows its predecessor in deliberately dispensing with art in favour of pared-down reality.

“The Dark Knight” is a masterwork of storytelling, then; yet its success also brings to mind what made Tim Burton’s vision so uniquely compelling. The sinister fantasia and grand gothic opera of Burton’s “Batman” and superior “Batman Returns” offered ferocious performances and delicious psychopathology in a delirious setting. Gotham, in all its odd architectural splendour, went beyond serving as a mere locale; it was a loaded metaphor in and of itself. Similarly marked with trans-medium greatness is the dark and beatiful animated film “Mask of the Phantasm,” directed by Eric Randomski and Bruce Timm, whose richly textured murder-mystery and character drama rank right up there, at the top. However tempting it is to proclaim “The Dark Knight” as the best superhero film ever, Nolan’s approach is so singularly different from Burton’s and Randomski/Timm’s that the proclamation is ultimately neither justified nor very useful.

All that remains is to ask what’s next? Naturally, films in Hollywood trilogies come in threes, so it’s safe to assume that the Batman version of “The Empire Strikes Back” will bring about the culmination of Batman’s heroic journey in a third chapter. Perhaps we’ll see Catwoman – the path has certainly been cleared, even if there’s no direct or indirect hint of Batman’s famous feline. But regardless of who populates the concluding film, the bar has been set very high.