(Originally written sometime in the summer of 2012…)
I needed to write this out somewhere, to get it out of my brain…
The only way I can begin to make sense of The Dark Knight Rises is as a massive Freudian, baby boomer patriarchal retirement fantasy (spoilers follow, I guess):
1. The miserable, Hobbesian dystopia that my city (or world) has become is definitely not my fault.
2. In fact, it’s the fault of violent blue collar people who just don’t understand how awesome I am, and don’t appreciate how much I’ve done for them.
3. It’s up to me to save them somehow, with a combination of kickass technology and self-sacrifice. But they probably still won’t understand or appreciate what I’ve done for them.
4. The few people who really care about me will miss me. My Greatest Generation father-figure will shed copious tears, and my Millenial Generation son-figure will vow to carry on my legacy.
5. I won’t have to actually clean up the mess, that’s someone else’s problem.
6. Then I finally get the retirement / afterlife I deserve – to sit at a sunny sidewalk cafe in Paris with Anne Hathaway.