Of all the attempts to capture the character’s greatness, none has done it better than one animated version. Thirty years ago this week, Batman: Mask of the Phantasm showed ...
Of all the attempts to capture the character’s greatness, none has done it better than one animated version. Thirty years ago this week, Batman: Mask of the Phantasm showed why.
O ur popular culture is full of Batman. We can’t seem to get enough of the Caped Crusader, a comic-book character created in 1939 who has grappling-hooked out of his original medium and into TV shows, blockbuster movies (played by three — or five, depending on how you count — different actors since 2012), video games, car commercials, and more.
These different representations emphasize distinct qualities of the hero, the alter ego of billionaire Bruce Wayne, driven to life as a justice-seeking costumed vigilante after the murder of his parents by a petty criminal. There have been varying interpretations over the years: grim darkness (Matt Reeves’s The Batman), aspirations to realism and thematic transcendence (Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy), gothic surreality (Tim Burton’s Batman and Batman Returns) . . . and, at times, silliness (Adam West’s TV show, and Joel Schumacher’s Batman & Robin). Batman, it seems, contains multitudes.
Amid them, one version of the character stands out: that created by Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski for Batman: The Animated Series. After its first season, a feature-length installment, Mask of the Phantasm, debuted in theaters, 30 years ago this week. Mask continue to show why their Batman, Timm and Radomski’s, stands cowl, mask, and ears above the rest.
Much of the movie’s excellence stems from elements already evident in the TV series. The show transcended not just a stilted Super Friends aesthetic but even the contemporary live-action efforts that inspired it. Subtle touches and bold creative choices helped. Starting animation on black paper rather than white (as was then typical) helped set the tone, as did adopting a singular, out-of-time style that mixed Gothic and Art Deco.
A top-notch voice cast brought a theatrical seriousness to the most important roles. As Batman, Kevin Conroy saw a bit of Hamlet in a figure whose mission in life was a kind of retributive dialogue with his murdered parents. He also recognized Batman as the “real” identity and Bruce Wayne as the façade. And as the Joker, Mark Hamill (ultimately picked over Tim Curry, who also auditioned) brought some Amadeus energy — and, of course, that laugh — into his flamboyant psychopathy. His Clown Prince of Crime was credible as both a mischievous prankster and a devious, murdering mastermind. Other voice actors were similarly memorable: think of Arleen Sorkin as Harley Quinn, Joker’s right-hand madwoman, who was created for the show and so popular that she was introduced into the comics; and, among many notable guest performances, Adam West (as the Gray Ghost) and Michael Ansara (as a highly sympathetic Mr. Freeze).
When the show’s Batmobile was firing on all cylinders, it achieved a remarkable storytelling maturity. Mask of the Phantasm is a perfect example. Cutting deftly between the past and the present, it tells two interconnected stories: a young romance between Bruce Wayne and Andrea Beaumont (Dana Delany), as well as the early days of Batman; and a mature Batman on the hunt for another vigilante on a revenge-killing spree against the city’s mobsters, for which Batman himself is being blamed . . . just as Beaumont comes back into his life. From this story emerges thoughtful meditations on love, grief, loss, justice, and vengeance. The last of these “blackens the soul,” says Wayne butler Alfred Pennyworth (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a consistent source of both wisdom and wit in the series and in this movie.
It’s a story that, in theory, could be told in live action. Indeed, Robert Pattinson, Bruce Wayne/Batman in Reeves’s foray, claimed to have been inspired by the character’s portrayal in Mask of the Phantasm. But the movie belongs in this medium; to imagine it otherwise is to acknowledge that something would be lost. Mask of the Phantasm takes full advantage of the possibilities of animation: It escapes the stultifying limitations of physicality and inoculates Batman and his universe from silliness, while also accentuating the most pronounced features of each. Striking instances of this include a flashback with a young, hopeful Bruce and Andrea in an EPCOT-style “city of the future” display, gleaming and chrome, contrasted with its grimy, dilapidated present; and a shot in which Batman hovers over a chasm in his cave while Alfred describes how every night he “walks on the edge” of an abyss. These and other examples of visual storytelling explain why this narrative simply had to be told via animation.
Mask of the Phantasm is hardly lacking in more-customary spectacle. Its action scenes measure up to the best of what the series had to offer, and even give the live-action installments a run for their Bat credit cards. Yes, that may be in part because animation allows for greater suspension of disbelief. But this is still a movie in which Batman struggles and bleeds. The recurring story item of Batman vs. the police has never been done better.
There are a few quibbles one could have with Mask of the Phantasm: whether the Joker really needed to be in it, how the Phantasm’s “powers” work, etc. But quibbles they would remain. It stands out as an excellent encapsulation of what has caused many critics to laud Batman: The Animated Series as one of the greatest animated TV shows ever; and of what has inspired, among others, Hillsdale College professor and National Review contributor Bradley J. Birzer to single it out as the best adaptation of Batman. When a character is capable of so many interpretations and has such enduring appeal, it must be because he stands for something transcendent: the desire for justice, the hope of fighting back against the darkness of our world and in our souls. Which makes it all the more impressive that, of all the attempts to capture the character’s greatness, none has done it better than a cartoon.