(8/25/09)
Two-Face isn’t so much a single story contained in two parts, as it is two stories bound together by one dilemma. It is the story of Harvey Dent’s ruination and the story of his failed chance at redemption. In the time it takes to develop, it deals with friendship, tragedy, justice, and psychological disorder. We start with a psychologically vulnerable man and we end with monster.
The story, so heavily influenced by classical Hollywood cinema as opposed to the fast-paced heavily edited films of today, takes its time to develop. From the introduction that depicts Harvey Dent in an abstract space running from a shadowed figure, the slow looming Two-Face theme resonating in the background, the dark atmosphere of the episode is apparent. Without much explanation at all, Harvey’s psychological predicament becomes fully noticeable and the tone established by the nightmare reasserts itself at every crucial plot point. Following that first scene, we observe Harvey’s quest to fight corruption in the justice system and topple Rupert Thorne, the mob boss who underhandedly evades the law. That shadowed figure we saw in Harvey’s dream, however, emerges as a fragment of Harvey’s behavior, which emerges at the most inopportune times.
The drama is heightened by the fact that Harvey is a good-natured person with noble hopes, a fiancée who loves him, a friend who just so happens to be the series’ protagonist. This is not the most nuanced way to convey goodness and likeability, but its simplicity works well in concealing the various layers of dark complexity that reside beneath his kindly exterior.
The climax, in a few words, shows Harvey confronting Thorne, getting half his face burned off, and being consumed by his alternate personality. Here we can study the visual motifs that pervade the episode and add proper emphasis on essential sequences. Note the color palette that walks a line between gray and sepia tone for most the episode, but that explodes in a monochromatic burst of red when Harvey’s anger unleashes. Space becomes enclosed, non-concrete, and difficult to properly define, and every emergence of Two-Face carries with it a blurring of the lines between objective reality and subjective experience. The reds show up in greater doses, in Candace’s suit and in the roses and carpet of the hospital ward, to the point that Harvey’s alternate persona becomes less an abstract phenomena and more a concrete reality.
Part one ends with Two-Face escaping from the hospital, now free of the Harvey Dent personality. So far we have witnessed a flawless depiction of a psychological disorder, its effects on its subject, and its association with that mythical theme of dual human nature. Part two continues along the same lines but presents a different story altogether, Bruce’s personal reaction to the tragedy and his attempt to redeem the old Harvey any way necessary. And just as well, Grace, Harvey’s fiancée, is the means by which the old Harvey almost resurfaces before Rupert Thorne sends everything crashing down in a tragic spiral.
The Harvey we see in part two lacks any sense of direction or independence. He has become consumed by his disorder and his decisions are ruled by chance, seeing the world in black and white, a bold manifestation of the confinement that accompanies any mental illness. As Grace tries to redeem him, Thorne tries to urge him deeper and deeper into the cell of his disorder. But he cannot be redeemed, and there is no true closure for his character. Batman defeats him by concealing his double-headed quarter, removing the screw that keeps his unstable mind intact.
Two-Face, finally, is flavored by all manner of symbolism. Harvey’s knocking aside the statue of Janus so that it breaks into several pieces on the ground is obviously symbolic of his eventual rejection of the law he used to confide in. In part two, the gun that Harvey picks up in order to shoot Thorne and therefore reject redemption lies in the shadowed part of the room. The quarter represents Two-Face’s dualistic obsession in addition to his two personas. There is even verbal symbolism present in the episode: Thorne alludes to the dark negatives of bright photographs as representative of the idea that the more pure men appear to be the greater the darkness they hold internally, while Grace is obviously the embodiment of redemptive grace, the very thing that might save Harvey.
It speaks to the writers’ skill that they are able to throw a man conflicted into a web of corruption and deterioration but also allow him a chance at hope and redemption, giving every character proper motive and every scene a heightened resonance. It plays out like a film noir serial with an added psychological emphasis.
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