He carries the burden and responsibility of no other super hero: He is fully human.
No super powers. No space family. No radioactive accidents.
He saw his parents murdered in the street and he had a traumatic childhood interaction with a swarm of bats (I wish I could get his Essay on Childhood). He has unlimited financial resources and terrific intelligence. Bruce Wayne’s transformation into Batman is a personal choice. He is a super hero like no other — at his core, he’s one of us, and that means that we get a little freaky when we fear some storyteller or director might “get it wrong” when it comes to interpreting the Dark Knight.
Affleck will be fine. Keaton was fine, Clooney maybe wasn’t so fine, but Bale is very good and on and on and so forth. Someone out there thinks Clooney was the best Batman ever. Someone thinks that because Clooney showed him or her something in the character that they’d never seen before, something they needed to see and that they admire.
We need Batman to be right because we need to be assured that we are what we hope we are. The abnormal rage over Affleck-as-Batman points to our profound disappointment in the actor’s squandered potential after Good Will Hunting. Yes, he’s made up for it, and yes, apparently we’re still mad at him about it. Affleck pricks that place where we have to think about making dumb choices and appearing foolish. And we don’t want any of that mojo on us, er, I mean on Batman. Because, you know, Batman is us at our highest potential to overcome and fight and defeat evil. You don’t just hand that off as a plum to the hunk du jour without incurring some questions.
Some say they can see Affleck as Bruce Wayne but not as Batman, to which my friend Jennifer replied, “If you can imagine Ben as Bruce Wayne but not Batman, that only lends credibility to the choice. Because nobody suspects Bruce Wayne of being Batman – it’s too far fetched to consider.”
That’s something to consider.