One of the things I most appreciate about the superhero aesthetic is its ability to take any other genre’s elements and turn them up to eleven. When it comes to the romance genre, one of the oldest adages is “opposites attract.” But what kind of twisted romance happens when you dress that up in Dracula drag and throw a murder clown into the mix?
Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, that’s what.
Oh, you’ve never heard of this Batman movie? Well, that’s too bad because it’s the finest outing the Caped Crusader has ever had on the big screen. Released in 1993 thanks to the success of Batman the Animated Series (BTAS), it uses that version of Batman as well as several of the supporting cast from the show to tell a tale of murder, revenge, and twice lost love.
If you haven’t seen it, it recently received a Blu-ray release. Go watch it now and then come back to this. Trust me, this essay will keep and here be spoilers.
One of my favorite concepts from superhero fiction is the idea of the “opposite number villain.” Other genres certainly use this idea, but I’m not sure it’s put to better effect anywhere outside superhero stories. The basic idea is that this type of villain is just like our hero but for one, glaring, fundamental difference.
Superman is everything that is good and compassionate about us, so Lex Luthor is everything that’s venal and vain. Captain America is the protector of the weak and puncher of Nazis, Red Skull is an exploiter of the weak and chief among Nazis. For complex heroes, you can even create multiple opposite number villains who all shine a spotlight on a different aspect of the hero. Lex and Bizarro are both cracked mirror images of Superman, but the ways in which they reflect the Man of Steel could not be more different. The one thing you can almost always be sure of is that the hero and villain recognize the similarity, and familiarity often leads to the greatest of contempt.
The Cinematropolis Editor-in-chief, Caleb Masters, and I have discussed on An Animated Discussion, our podcast dedicated to BTAS, most superheroes’ best-remembered villains are their opposite numbers and nobody has more of them than Batman. The Joker’s chaos to his order, Two Face’s law of averages to his law of compassion, Mister Freeze’s vengeance to his justice. And while the Joker appears in Phantasm, he’s the basic version of himself possible and comes with an incomplete tease to his origin. But the titular Phantasm, aka Andrea Beaumont, is an astoundingly perfect opposite number villain for Batman considering she’d never existed before this film and has only been seen one other time since.
That singularity would be enough to make Beaumont a fascinating addition to Batman’s rogue’s gallery, but she manages to be unique in a variety of other ways. First, while most opposite numbers plans center on the hero, the Phantasm’s plot doesn’t have anything to do with Batman, he’s merely an obstacle. Second, and unbeknownst to everyone until quite late in the film, the Phantasm nearly destroyed Batman before he ever began. Lastly, and perhaps most shockingly, Batman and the Phantasm don’t have the typical hate for one another you find in the opposite number relationship. Instead, they deeply love one another with a passion as deep as it is tragic.
In the present day storyline, Batman is confronted with the mystery of the Phantasm, a new vigilante murdering gangsters. Though it takes awhile for anyone to recognize the pattern, these killings are not random. The hunted mobsters have close, albeit old, ties. To complicate matters, because of the new vigilante’s aesthetic and a bit of wrong place at the wrong time, Batman is blamed for the murders to the point that the police are hunting him.
Things aren’t easy for Bruce Wayne either. His old flame, Andrea Beaumont, has returned to Gotham on old family business. Most of this internal strife plays out in flashbacks where we see a younger Bruce ready to finally fight his war on crime but left unsure of exactly what method he should employ. While he ponders his options, he has a chance meeting with Andrea and the two fall quickly and deeply in love.
As the shadow of the Bat looms ever larger over Bruce, he is torn apart trying to reconcile a life of happiness with Andrea and a life of crime fighting. In an incredibly powerful scene, Bruce sobs over his parents’ grave, begging them to release him from his vow. “I didn’t expect to be happy,” he says. “Please tell me it’s okay.” Andrea appears behind him saying, “Maybe they already have. Maybe they sent me.”
But Andrea’s father’s shady dealings with the mob leave the Beaumonts in great danger. Under cover of darkness, they run from Gotham never to return. Andrea returns her engagement ring via courier with a farewell note that explains none of the truth. Bruce is heartbroken but also freed to return to his destiny.
In the present, Batman draws closer to solving the mystery behind the mask of the Phantasm while he and Andrea find themselves growing closer all over again. That is until it becomes clear that the Phantasm is Andrea using a new identity to take revenge on the criminals that stole her father from her. It comes down to a face-off between two people who had once completed one another and thought, for a moment, they could do so again. It’s heartbreak versus happiness, the future versus the past, vengeance versus justice, and with the Joker caught in the middle.
For Andrea, Bruce represents a happier time from before her father’s murder and all sense left her life. For Bruce, Andrea represents a happier though still conflicted time, before Batman but still well after he’d lost his parents. On the surface, it looks as though their losses and decisions on how to deal with them should bring them closer together. But in actuality, the differences in their motivation are too deep to cross. Andrea can’t give her heart to Bruce because she’s already given it to vengeance. Bruce is ready to give his heart to the Andrea he remembers, but his commitment to justice won’t allow him to love the Phantasm she’s become.
In the end, it’s a study in how opposites attract isn’t a guide to love as much as a recipe for disaster. The love that made the Batman briefly happy is lost twice over and the lovers are estranged from one another again, this time irrevocably. Both Bruce and Andrea have seen what lies at the core of the other, and the pit of despair at Andrea’s center is a place Bruce won’t allow himself to go.
The film ends with an Andrea cursed by her choices into utter loneliness, fully aware of what she’s lost and what can never be regained. In contrast, though, we’re left with a Batman who is far from alone. And though he may have lost the love of his life, there is still love in his life. The love of a father figure in Alfred, the love of sons in his Robins, and the love of justice and compassion that keeps a man who dresses like a creature of the night from tipping over into darkness.
