Superhero movies come out every few months now, but back in 1989? "Batman" was an event.
A milestone. Keep watching to relive that special summer, or live it for the first time.
On hearing that a Batman film was on its way, fans of the Dark Knight did not have their hopes up.
For one, the campy '60s Batman series was still firmly established in the pop culture canon
even as more gritty interpretations were making their way to the comic book pages.
Unfortunately — proving that nerd rage over superhero castings pre-dates social media — the
news that Beetlejuice himself, Michael Keaton, had been cast as Batman didn't help matters.
To be fair, the news of Keaton's casting stunned everyone,
not just comic book fans. Even Batman executive producer Michael Uslan claims to have initially
thought the casting news was a joke and trades like Variety openly mocked the choice.
Fans started letter-writing campaigns to change the studio's mind, including petitions.
"A little disappointing. Because I guess if you've grown up watching the comics
and reading the comics and watching the TV show it's a lot different than I expected."
Considering how many fans will still tell you Keaton is their favorite Batman,
this kind of nerd rage may seem inconceivable. But before you judge,
think about how the general public looked at Michael Keaton in the '80s. At the time,
all of Keaton's most commercially successful films — like "Beetlejuice" and "Mr. Mom" – were
comedies. So to understand how Batman fans felt hearing Michael Keaton was playing Batman,
just imagine if an actor best known for his sitcom work was cast in a superhero movie.
The hype surrounding the release of 1989's Batman is the stuff of
legend. All you need for proof is the very existence of so many online retrospectives
not necessarily about the film, but specifically the phenomenon — often
referred to as "Batmania" at the time — created by Warner Bros' media machine.
Forbes' Scott Mendelson writes about being "consciously gripped in Bat-fever"
before the release of Batman. For ComicsAlliance, Patrick A. Reed recalls the, quote, "candy-filled
Keaton heads in supermarket checkout aisles" and the "Batmobile toys in Happy Meals," before
concluding that, quote, "the entire world had gone Batty." The Washington Post remembers the hype
transforming the film into a "preordained event," and as a result yielding huge financial returns.
It worked: Batman raked in $43 million in its opening weekend,
breaking numerous ticket sales records, including breaking the record for ticket
sales not only on opening weekend, but for its second weekend too.
One of the simplest and most effective marketing tools used to publicize Batman
was the black-and-gold Bat emblem that was seemingly in every shop in 1989.
Whether you were at the supermarket buying groceries, in a department store buying clothes,
or a fast food joint getting lunch, the Batman logo was everywhere.
Part of the genius of Batman's marketing onslaught was realizing how instantly iconic that bat logo
already was. It was not at all uncommon, for example, to be met with the movie posters which
didn't even include the name "Batman," but simply the black-and-gold bat logo and the release date,
June 23rd. Paul Levitz, DC Comics' executive vice president and publisher in 1989,
joked that the Bat logo shirts were so successful that it caused a shortage of black cotton.
The notion of using a superhero's logo similarly in marketing has since become
practically mandatory, but in 1989 it was a novel and effective use of iconic imagery.
Released the same month as Batman, the late Prince's hit single "Batdance" was
as inescapable as any other Bat-related hype that summer. At turns a chaotic dance song or a slow,
funky groove, "Batdance" is liberally peppered with samples from the film,
including arguably the Joker's most surprising exclamation,
"This town needs an enema!"
The single got a lot of negative reviews from critics, but it still hit the top of the Billboard
charts in August 1989. And the video, like the song, is striking, wild, and kind of incoherent.
Prince appears as himself in kind of a Batcave-y music studio,
and as a character known as Gemini who appears to be half-Batman and half-Joker.
Along with stoking the already raging fire of Bat hype,
"Batdance" was a huge win for Prince. The video won a Soul Train award and helped
make Prince's "Batman" soundtrack his first #1 album since 1985's "Around the World in a Day."
The notion that Batman is a darker hero shouldn't feel like a revelation,
right? In the 21st century, if a new Batman project is announced,
you can expect a gravelly-voiced vigilante who makes himself a friend to shadows. He broods,
he mourns, and he finds gargoyles to perch on wherever he goes.
It may surprise younger fans to know, however, that before Tim Burton's Batman,
the Dark Knight's legacy was dominated by the camp of the '60s Batman series.
Sure, the fans of the source material knew Gotham's greatest champion had wider variety
in his stories than simply the over-the-top parodies found in the television show. But
outside the comic book shop, most audiences heard the name "Batman" and thought of Adam
West and Burt Ward climbing up walls or their ridiculous fistfights with
the comic book sound effects like "POW" and "BIFF" superimposed over the melee.
Curing pop culture of this association was one of the goals of lifelong Batman fan Michael Uslan
in his decade-long crusade to get Batman made. In the "Shadows of the Bat" documentary, Uslan says,
"For about 20 years, whenever anyone mentioned the word 'Batman' [...] 'pow,' 'zap,' and 'wham' were
always attached to the name. I wanted to detach it and get back to the heart of the character."
Considering the hero's more contemporary adaptations,
it's clear 1989's "Batman" succeeded in forcing the hero away from his days dancing the Batusi.
Just as "Batman" forced audiences to deal with a Dark Knight who was
far more interested in vengeance than he was puns,
Jack Nicholson's portrayal of the Joker made the world take the cackling maniac seriously.
While he may seem cartoonish compared to grittier 21st century portrayals of the Joker,
Nicholson had a take on the character that was a steep departure from what most audiences expected.
Sure, by 1989 Alan Moore and Brian Bolland's "Batman: The Killing Joke" was making waves
at the comic book shop. But the live-action Joker most people knew was played by Cesar Romero in the
1960s Batman series. Not only did Romero famously refuse to even shave his mustache for the role,
but we are in no danger of being contradicted when we point out that the hero of 1989's Batman
kills more people in that film than Romero's Joker does in the entire '60s series.
There's no better proof that Nicholson is largely responsible for the more complex directions
Joker has taken in the more contemporary times than the complaints of the guy who
played him for two years. When the Associated Press asked for his reaction to the 1989 film,
Cesar Romero called it, quote, "dreary." Romero lamented,
"Nicholson, who is such a wonderful actor and who has done such good work, is just so violent."
While there will probably always be naysayers,
the stories of comic book superheroes slogged a long road toward any kind of
legitimacy — and 1989's Batman was one of the biggest steps down that road.
In the "Shadows of the Bat" documentary, Michael Uslan gives an example of how
superhero comics were viewed pre-Batman that still would sound familiar to any fan of the genre.
While attending Indiana University in the '70s, Uslan took advantage of
a program that allowed students to pitch courses that they would teach themselves.
Uslan says when he applied to teach a course about comic book heroes, the college dean told him comic
books were "cheap entertainment" and "junk" not worthy of academic study. According to Uslan,
he responded by illustrating how the origin story of Superman mirrored
that of the Biblical figure Moses, and as a result his course was immediately approved.
"Batman's" success not only helped legitimize superhero movies, but made them more attractive
to actors and directors. Speaking about this to the Washington Post, Andrew Farago,
author and curator for San Francisco's Cartoon Art Museum, listed visionary
directors who would later attach themselves to superhero franchises, aptly wondering
"Who could have imagined a world with Kenneth Branagh directing Thor?"
Along with their many Easter eggs, contemporary superhero movies and TV shows are known for
teasing fans by introducing characters who — should the adaptation of the source
material follow closely enough — could become superheroes or villains in future stories.
For example, 2008's "Iron Man" hinted at James Rhodes becoming the armored hero War Machine,
but fans had to wait one more movie for it.
"Next time, baby."
Batman gave us a very early example of this kind of tease by casting Billy Dee Williams
as hero District Attorney Harvey Dent. Any DC Comics fan in the theater knew that Dent was
destined to become the coin-tossing criminal Two-Face. With this character's appearance,
the movie created a palpable sense among fans that there was more to come, and did it without
pandering or shouting the reference from the rooftops. And while the part would eventually
be recast with Tommy Lee Jones, the franchise did end up making good on its promise of adding
Two-Face to Batman's rogues gallery in "Batman Forever." Williams, meanwhile, eventually got
to play the role of Two-Face decades later in the Lego Batman movie, of all places.
"Batman" also created that delicious sense that there was more on the way through its
many absences. It was impossible not to ask who would play Robin, who would play Riddler,
who would play Penguin when he eventually showed up. Fans were casting the sequels
before the original was out of theaters - and it was in theaters a long time.
Check out one of our newest videos right here! Plus,
even more Looper videos about your favorite movies are coming soon.
Subscribe to our YouTube channel and hit the bell so you don't miss a single one.