Initially high-grossing but critically slammed, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (“BvS”) certainly did not live up to the lofty expectations that Warner Bros and DC Entertainment had pinned on it. In an undisguised (and ill-advised) attempt to play catch-up with the Disney-backed Marvel Studios, the Man of Steel sequel was charged with the impossible task of laying the foundations for the nascent DC Extended Universe (“DCEU”) in a movie that, by its very nature, couldn’t be anything but climactic. Warner Bros wanted an instant answer to The Avengers; instead, what they got was described as “bat-shit crazy” - and those were the people being kind.
Yet Zack Snyder’s blockbuster - at least when considered in isolation and, crucially, in its elongated “ultimate edition” form - still finds itself amongst my favourite comic-book movies. Whilst its timing and ambition speak to spectacular errors of judgement on an executive level, the film itself combines a thoughtful and challenging character-driven story with a number of exceedingly well-executed set pieces truly worthy of all the hype. The script from Chris Terrio (Justice League, Star Wars: Episode IX) and David S Goyer (The Dark Knight trilogy) draws from some of the most celebrated and revered titles in the vast DC library (particularly The Death of Superman, Tower of Babel and The Dark Knight Returns), but presents them in a way that feels entirely grounded. This is a world that, even after the extra-terrestrial incursion of Man of Steel, feels excruciatingly true to life. Indeed, to its credit, BvS is as much a gripping political drama as it is “two dolls being smashed into each other”. The brewing climate of anger and fear is terrifyingly plausible, and BvS does a terrific job in fleshing this out through well-drawn characters like Holly Hunter’s Senator Finch and Scoot McNairy’s Wallace Keefe, as well as, of course, Batman.
In most of his many iterations, the Dark Night has been a vigilante rather than a hero. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive, of course, but in his heart Batman has dedicated his life to warring on criminals - any perceived heroism is secondary to that. In BvS, though, he allows his experience and cynicism to extend the scope of his increasingly violent remit beyond vigilantism in Gotham. No longer content with branding the villains that he torments, he looks to wage a pre-emptive war against a potential threat greater than any mankind has ever faced before: the Superman.
Ben Affleck is absolutely superb as the ageing and grizzled Dark Knight - his interpretation is certainly the closest that we’ve ever come to the Batman of Frank Miller’s seminal Dark Knight Returns, at least in live action. As much as I love Christian Bale’s version, to me that represents the definitive cinematic take on the young Caped Crusader; a culmination of years spent revelling in Year One, The Long Hallowe’en and the like. Affleck’s Batman, whilst visibly a little younger than The Dark Knight Returns’, has nailed the other end of the timeline. Weary and weathered, and having already lost at least one Robin (and not necessarily the one you’d think, if the director’s intentions still carry any weight) in his crusade, this Batman is very much the hulking mass of disillusionment that Miller so thrillingly took and re-instilled with purpose. BvS sends him on a thematically similar journey, albeit one that’s subverted - perhaps even inverted - by the movie’s central moral quandary.
The irony is that The Dark Knight Returns’ Superman is, superficially at least, everything that BvS wants him to be - he’s the last of the superheroes, a government enforcer on a presidential leash who’s tasked with ending the terror of Dark Knight come again. In BvS, though, it’s Superman’s who’s the subject of public scrutiny and Batman who takes it upon himself to protect his planet from carnage of the like depicted in Man of Steel. Miller’s questions still burn just as fiercely, though, and it is in how it deals with them that BvS triumphs.
I didn’t like Man of Steel at the time of its release, and I’m still not all that keen on it today, but my issues with it were borne more of tone and structure than they were the eponymous Man of Steel himself. My only real complaint in that regard was that Henry Cavill wasn’t Smallville’s Tom Welling - after a decade of anticipation, there was only one man I wanted to see doing flights in tights. But despite not having ten seasons’ back story propping him up and having surrendered his top billing to the Bat, BvS still gives Cavill some wonderful material to sink his teeth into. His scenes with Amy Adams’ Lois are particularly lovely, and he really shows his steel in his scenes with Affleck; their first meeting at Luthor’s is goosebumps-good. Best of all though are the crushing moments when Cavill’s face betrays that it isn’t kryptonite that’s his real Archilles heel, but his love for his Lois and his mother. Cavill’s rendition might not be anything close to the definitive take on the legendary pop-culture staple, but his stoic turn in this movie is almost on a par with Affleck’s.
One surprising facet of the film is its portrayal of Lex Luthor, which is hard to measure against any of his recent antecedents in print or on screen. The character’s background and ambition to defend the world from alien aggressors no matter the cost might seem familiar, but Jesse Eisenberg’s performance is typified by a frightening eccentricity that’s light years from Michael Rosenbaum’s cool resolve in Smallville. Lex’s rambling digression at his LexCorp gala highlight the character’s fragile grip on sanity - he’s so intelligent, so obsessed, so fanatical that he can’t even keep his mask from slipping when addressing his guests. It’s a fresh and disquieting rendition of a done-to-death villain; one that’s almost as memorable as Ben Affleck’s Batman - or Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman.
As the gateway into the coalescing DCEU, BvS - perhaps more aptly abbreviated to “Dawn of Justice” here - is also responsible for the introduction of Diana Prince / Wonder Woman as well as other future Justice League members, all of whom make their live-action theatrical debuts. Of course, Gadot’s Wonder Woman has met with universal acclaim, stealing almost all of the little praise that this movie garnered before conquering the world in Patty Jenkins’ mould-breaking Wonder Woman the following year. Her introduction in Dawn of Justice is executed flawlessly, turning mystery to impact without taking anything away from the movie’s two titular antagonists (though she does get by far the coolest theme). In fact, Diana shines a light on their respective virtues and ultimately proves to be the glue that binds them. It’s particularly gratifying to see her help showcase a side of the World’s Greatest Detective seldom highlighted on the silver screen - the very skills that earned him that nickname.
Unfortunately, the fruits of Batman’s detection lead to some of the film’s most painful sequences – he sits for about ten minutes just watching Lex Luthor’s meta-human files. At best, these serve as an incongruous appetiser for Justice League, but to most they only emphasise DC’s desperation to quickly establish their DCEU. Particularly in the theatrical cut, which omits a lot of critical plot and character development to make room for sequences like these, their inclusion is a pace-killing, drama-sapping and - in the Flash’s case - incredibly confusing side-step that Dawn of Justice could ill-afford. In bizarre meta-fictional meta-human mockery, they even send Batman into a deep, nightmare-ridden sleep.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe has succeeded because it spent half a dozen movies establishing its principal Avengers individually - their eventual assembly was hard-earned and all the more rewarding for it. Compare BvS against Captain America: Civil War, both its box office and thematic rival, and note the difference. The Avengers’ implosion in that movie is devastating because the twelve preceding movies made the audience care about them. Even built on the backs of two icons who need no introduction, BvS could not ever have hoped to match that on the DCEU’s difficult second album, and it would have been a much better and cleaner product had it not tried. As it stands, BvS is an underrated powerhouse of a movie with a nuanced, complex moral tale at its heart - just one that’s best enjoyed in isolation.
The set also includes the theatrical cut of the movie and bonus material on a standard 1080p Blu-ray. As the ultimate edition is now widely regarded as the definitive version, I’d rather have that cut in 4K than the theatrical, though both cuts in 4K wouldn’t have been too much to ask for the RRP.
I should add that the quality of the ultimate edition is demo-worthy - this is not a “fake” 2K upscale like the Kelvin Timeline Star Trek movies, but real 4K. Even if, like me, you zoom into 16:9 to watch it, thus softening the image, the visuals remain breathtaking and the pulsating soundscape is every bit their match.
