The Wake

The best lines in the Dark Knight are debatable. Among the heap to choose from, there is “why so serious,” “Then we’ll see how loyal a hungry dog really is,” “whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you . . . stranger,” all spoken in that haunting, sardonic smoker’s groan. Heath Ledger’s Joker has
succeeded in being unforgettable, managing to make Jack Nicholson look boring and silly, and a new twist on a familiar character. The best moment is undoubtedly near the finale, when the Joker burns a pile of hard-earned blood money.

As the summer’s best, the film hovers near the brink of grossing a billion dollars in theater ticket sales alone. It feels necessary to examine it in the pre-DVD moment. Upon reading the screenplay, one learns that the film’s antihero earns the same amount of cash from his illicit dealings that the movie stands to gross. Remember the part? Jumping from that mountain of money, sliding downward,
sending stacks of bills spilling outwards?

How would you feel standing beside that pyramid, some thirty feet high, watching someone douse it in gasoline? Fill up a satchel and there go your student loans. That post-finals trip to Amsterdam, “to
see all the old buildings.” Yeah.

But as the man says, “it’s not about money. . .”

All right, so it’s been a couple months. Why can’t I stop thinking about that flaming pile of cash?

Maybe it’s because of that interesting coincidence of how it’s the same sum the film’s financial backers stand to reap; their foresight has served them well. So the question is, what the fuck are they going to do with all that money? You can see them now, chewing a moist, illegally imported cigar, nursing a crystal tumbler with some costly brown liquid.

Eh.

Instead, why don’t they find an abandoned warehouse by the Hudson and start the stacking . . .DVDs, posters, videogames, the investors aren’t worrying about paying their gas bill for a while.

Why, you might ask? Because even a bat-shit crazy villain, a “terrorist,” even he has a point. It’s weird how nuts we’ve been about Ledger’s performance lately. When we weren’t talking about McCain’s dozens of houses, we were complimenting the departed actor, but did we ever stop to consider his point?

Everything burns.

Is it possible to take a message from what is essentially a summertime blockbuster with lots of cool explosions?

I say: why not?

Picture ten of those piles, that’s what we spend in Iraq every month. In that case, burning it might be more effective. Speaking of that, did we stop to examine our usage of the word “terrorist” because of this movie? As Americans, we tend to forget that one culture’s super-villain is another’s hero. This might sound cliché, but how many times have you heard Che Guevara called that same, unilateral, uncreative sobriquet? That man was a doctor and during his time he gave hope to millions of the impoverished. During an epochof absurd corruption and due governmental shame, a story too common for places south of the Rio Grande, el Che was the light at the end of their dismal tunnel.
Sound familiar?

Reminiscent of 2005’s “V for Vendetta,” another all-too topical film, “The Dark Knight” also possesses a crazed, homicidal lunatic. Yet the character reads so cool, so awesome and comical, that the audience ends up making an effort to remember that their boy is the antagonist. Embodying Bob Dylan’s spirit of having nothing meaning having nothing to lose, the Joker just laughs when Batman hits him, saying he has nothing; nothing to threaten him with, nowhere to put all his strength.

So what does it all mean? Apart from the saddness one undoubtedly feels knowing no sequel could ever match seeing Bale hurl Ledger from the building, hearing the mad-scientist laughter descend until the zip cord catches him, what else can we take from the new Batman? Obviously the Joker is a fragmented character and only a fraction of what he says is reputable. Yes, the man kills indiscriminately. But what a cool, much needed message for our generation: Fuck money and think twice before you support a candidate with a hard-on to firebomb. Chances are, there’s someone
on the other end with a similar name for us and when our karma returns, they might not give us that coin toss.

So to you Carlson School types, tipping 10% and clawing your ways to the top in some downtown office with floor-to-ceiling windows - what will you do once you’re atop that mountain of money? I’d
imagine even the coldest men might feel alone up there.

“It’s not about money. . .” Whatever “it” is, for you. You can take something from the Joker. It’s psychotic, weird and terrible, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can dismiss its social relevance.

If I could light a match, stand beside that clunky green pyramid, smile as the flames crawled up its flaking edges and truly not care; not because of having a similar pile stashed somewhere else, but because I knew it just didn’t matter. Well, I’m not sure if there’s a word for whatever that is, but I would imagine it would feel pretty special.