This Batman is not upbeat or charming, he’s tortured and angry. He calls himself Vengeance and he spends his time obsessively hunting bad guys and delivering menacing beatings. His vengefulness inadvertently inspires Riddler, another resentful orphan, to assemble a group of social discontents and stage a violent attack at a political event.
The key moment in the film occurs when one of Riddler’s minions cryptically introduces himself, “I’m Vengeance.” The film asks: If vengeance justifies violence, what makes Batman any better than Riddler?
Hit with the question, Batman recognizes he hasn’t been the symbol Gotham needs. Renewal requires destruction and rebuilding, but vengeance only destroys. Batman as a person had lost the moral foundation that makes Batman as an icon so heroic. To inspire Gotham to be better than Riddler, Batman had to represent a virtuous balance of retribution and redemption.
The Batman is about political resentment and the allure of political violence. In a polarized society, people give up conversation and resort to dominating their rivals. Consumed by anger, they lose the ability to distinguish just vengeance from irrational violence. They crave payback at the expense of the very people they supposedly want to save.
The film juxtaposes our awe of Batman as a character with our explanations for why “they” deserve our vengeance and then directly points out the contradiction: We love Batman precisely because he would never act this prejudicially.
The Batman at the end of the movie feels so much more like Batman than the one at the beginning because he’s supportive. Gotham’s true renewal begins not with vengeance for the past, but powerful hope for the future.