The material was perfect for Burton, a director who enjoys making films about people whose physical disorders and/or complex psychological states prevent them from living a mainstream lifestyle.

The film shows how the laconic Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton) came to be the defender of a retro-futuristic city decorated in purples and blacks. As a child he witnessed the murder of his parents by a thug named Jack Napier (Jack Nicholson), which had such an understandably dramatic and longlasting effect on him that, after reaching adulthood, he vowed to devote himself and the family fortune to a lifetime of crime-fighting. The battleground is Gotham City, an urban nightmare designed for the film by Anton Furst in the tradition of Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1926) and Ridley Scott's Blade Runner (1982). Wayne's first act as Batman was to exact retribution from his parents' killer, which he acieved by dropping Napier into a vat of toxic chemicals. Napier, however, survived the assault and reinvented himself as the Joker. Over time, it becomes clear that Batman and Joker are two sides of the same coin, each responsible for the other's condition.

Much of the effect of Batman comes from the atmospheric score by Danny Elfman. The film marked the first time Elfman had worked on a big-budget adventure picture, and he chose not to write in the tradition of classic superhero scores such as Erich Wolfgang Korngold's The Adventure of Robin Hood (1938) or John Williams' Superman ­ The Movie (1978). While Elfman combines Herrmanesque gothicisms with the post-Star Wars energy of John Williams, the overall result is a unique creation that evokes both the darkness and heroism of the central character.

Both Burton and Elfman ­ two artists who have always been in synch with each other ­ view the Batman universe as a fusion of gothic heroism and film noir. Elevating the caped crusader to Wagnerian proportions, Elfman composed a dark and brooding main theme that is first presented as a march heard over the main titles. Early in the score, Elfman's music hints at the emotional impenetrability of the Batman persona. In 'Flowers,' however, the theme is stripped of its martial origins and assumes the form of a contemplative ballad. Indeed, Batman is more concerned with the execution of his mission than the pursuit of personal happiness. This applies even to his love life. When Wayne becomes involved with gorgeous photographer Vicki Vale (Kim Basinger), Elfman makes certain not to overstate the romance. In essence, the 'Love Theme' is a quasi-romantic variation of the main theme. Having little time for personal encounters in his chosen profession, Wayne informs Vicki, "My Life is really... complex."

At the opposite end of the good/evil spectrum is the Joker. Unlike Batman, the Joker is not a tortured soul consumed by vengeance ­ rather he is, at heart, a prankster with a knack for destruction. Reveling in a child's love ­ and sometimes fear ­ of clowns, Elfman provides the Joker with a waltz that one might hear at a circus or a carnival. A pastiche arrangement of which is heard when the Joker and Vicki Vale 'Waltz to the Death' at the top of a cathedral belltower. Elfman colors their ascent 'Up the Cathedral' with variations on the harmonic foundations of the main theme, completing the effect with a gothic organ and broad chord sequences in the brass choir. Batman arrives at the crumbling edifice in pursuit of Vale and Napier. For 'The Final Confrontation' between the adversaries, Elfman employs his carnival material, Hermannesque notes, and a brief quotation from Stephen Foster's 'Beautiful Dreamer' (heard earlier in the score in connection with Napier/Joker). Batman keeps a vigil at the end, offering a Batsignal to the city in case he should be needed again. While the 'Finale' celebrates Batman's victory, Elfman's score also implies that the peace in Gotham will not be permanent.