Explaining Incongruities -- The Dark Knight Rises

Mahlknecht points out one advantage to the novelization: "The medium of the novel enables the novelizer to eliminate possible illogicalities or plot holes encountered in the script (Mahlknecht 17)." He goes on to explain that because of the visual nature of the film (or screenplay), the actors are unable to explicitly explain certain aspects of the plot without either running for hours on end or because of its depiction of real life; characters rarely justify in words things they already know in their mind. Another way this can be beneficial is to explain the plot holes, as Mahlknecht points out, that can leave viewers of the film confused and could cause some problems with plot logistics. He describes several cases in the film Terminator: Salvation where the characters fail to explain how they perform certain actions or where they obtained necessary resources like gasoline. The novelizer provides background information that the characters are aware of, yet are unable to relate to the audience without actually addressing the audience. The Dark Knight Rises is riddled with these types of incongruities but the the novel fails to patch these up for the reader as nicely despite opportunities to do so. Again, the novelization parrots the film, undermining its legitimacy as a piece of original or adapted literature.

“Get the barriers up!” Allen shouted. “No more in and out on this street!”

Wedge-shaped metal barricades, installed after the Joker’s reign of terror, rose up at the mouth of the street. The barricades were intended to stop any truck bombs from crashing into the stock exchange. SWAT teams fanned out around the building’s front entrance. A police sniper peered through a thermal scope, watching the door. Four large heat signatures bloomed, too large to be people.

      “I’ve got something!” the sniper called out.

A ferocious roar came from inside the stock exchange. The front door blew open, causing the nearest SWAT troopers to duck from the blast, as four high-speed motorcycles leapt from inside the building, jumping the front steps to touch down on the pavement in front of Allen and his men.

Terrified hostages could be seen strapped to the rear of the bikes, their silk ties blowing in the wind. Revving their engines, the bikes zoomed straight for the raised barricades—which designed to stop vehicles speeding toward the stock exchange, proved to be highly effective ramps for bikes heading in the opposite direction.

The bikes vaulted over the heads of the surrounding police officers before speeding away into the night. Flustered cops scrambled into their cars to give chase, even as the failed barriers retracted back into the pavement.

Allen swore loudly.

Where the author could have taken the liberty of explaining how four motorcycles got inside the stock exchange, the audience (and the reader) are left scratching their heads, wondering how Bane and his men either got the motorcycles through security in the first place or why they didn't take a speedy exit out a back entrance where they could have the motorcycles waiting.  

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One of the key plot elements is Bruce Wayne's rise from depression and physical listlessness to his prior top physique (or almost) of the Batman days. For the first forty-five minutes of the movie and 118 pages of the novelization, Bruce hobbles around on a bad knee, unable even to stand up when Selina Kyle kicks his cane away from him. Somehow, though, he obtains an "experimental carbon-fiber brace" which fixes his knee in a matter of seconds. There is no explanation of where the brace came from, and the explanation of how the brace repairs lost or atrophied muscle is sketchy at best.

The experimental carbon-fiber brace arrived at Wayne Manor the very next morning. Bruce tried it out in the cave, away from the prying eyes of everyone except Alfred and the bats roosting overhead. He had gotten only a few hours of sleep since the masquerade, but wasn’t about to take time out for a nap. He had slept enough these last eight years.

He clamped the brace onto his right leg and pressed a blinking button on its side. The pivoted orthotic toned up at once, tightening around the joint. A thin layer of padding cushioned the brace. Bruce stood up and worked the knee, attempting deep bends and stretches. It took some effort, but the brace moved with him smoothly, without chafing or riding up and down his leg.

So far so good, he thought.

Alfred put down a thermos of hot coffee.

“You’ve got the wrong leg, sir.”

Bruce shook his head.

“You start with the good limb,” he explained, “so the brace learns your optimum muscle patterns.” He sat down on a slate cube and swapped the brace to his bad left knee. He rose cautiously, putting his weight on it, and grunted in satisfaction as the reinforced leg appeared to support him. He bent slowly, then rose again, more confidently this time. He threw a kick at the empty air.

A rare smile lifted his lips. He was liking this.

“Now we tighten it up.”

He pressed harder on the button, clicking it again. The brace contracted against his leg, the unyielding carbon fibers digging into his flesh. Grimacing, he gritted his teeth against the increased pressure.

Alfred looked on with concern.

“Is it terribly painful, sir?”

“You’re welcome to try it, Alfred.”

“Happy watching, thank you, sir.”

Bruce let out a howl as the brace clicked home. He took a moment to get used to the discomfort before rising to his feet again. Despite the pain, the leg felt more solid than it had in years. Than it had since the night Batman fell.

“Not bad,” he said.

A stack of bricks waited a few feet away. Bruce spun and delivered a furious roundhouse kick to the bricks, which went flying across the cave. Overhead, startled bats screeched in alarm. They flapped wildly among the stalactites.

“Not bad at all.”

   

The extra description given in the text of the novelization is largely unhelpful in this case. Are the carbon fibers replacing lost muscle? Repairing it? After eight years of disuse, a good brace is all it takes to be able to kick down brick walls again. Again, as with the motorcycles, the novelizer might have attempted to legitimize the quick recovery by explaining that, although undoubtedly advanced technology, Bruce must use the brace continually over a period of weeks. Whether owing to disapproval on the screenwriters or the novelizer unable to see the need for further explanation, the lack of detail in this quick scene passes by viewers quickly but will leave readers wondering exactly what they just read.

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The most glaring incongruity of the story comes in the last forty minutes of the film and ninety pages of the novelization. Defeated, Bruce Wayne/Batman was sent to a prison "in a more ancient part of the world," as Alfred informs Bruce earlier, physically broken, financially depleted, and morally defeated, complete with a protruding vertebrae. However, the audience sees his recovery and escape from the hellish pit. Emerging, he sees "a huge, forgotten stone fortress, its imposing walls and towers showing the ravages of time, loom[ing] over the pit. Rocky hills beckoned in the distance. An arid desert stretched for miles in every direction." Wherever this place is, it is certainly far from Gotham, probably far from the United States itself. The last indication of how Bruce is going to return to his beloved city is the last line of the chapter: "He shouldered his pack and started walking."
After a quick death-sentencing scene, and an exchange between Gordon and Foley, Selina is back on the screen (page) defending an apple-bearing boy from would-be food thieves:

“Never steal anything from someone you can’t outrun, kid,” she advised him. That was something she’d learned a long time ago.

He stared longingly at the apple.

“Now you’re gonna take it, he said, resentment in his voice.

It was a tempting prize, she had to admit. Fresh fruit was had to come by in Gotham these days. She lifted it to her mouth and took a single perfect bit.

“Just tax,” she explained.

Licking her lips, she lobbed the rest of the apple back to the kid, who wasted no time in absconding with it, just in case she changed her mind.

A thank-you would have been nice, she thought, but she really couldn’t blame the little guy for getting away while the getting was good. She knew what it was like to be hungry and on your own.

“Pretty generous for a thief.”

It was a voice she had never expected to hear again. Spinning around, she found Bruce Wayne standing on the sidewalk behind her. He was dressed like a common laborer, with a scruffy beard and work clothes, but there was no mistaking the former prince of Gotham. His face was lean and weathered, but, much to her surprise, he was standing straight and tall—despite what Bane had done to his back.

The sound of that awful crack had haunted her dreams for months now.

“You came back,” she said. “I thought they’d killed you.”

“Not yet,” he said.

She got her guard up.

“If you’re expecting an apology—” But he shook his head, cutting her off.

“It wouldn’t suit you,” he said. “I just need your help.”

This is another opportunity for the novelizer to add some information for the reader that can't be shown or told to the viewer about how on earth Bruce Wayne managed to return from a faraway land with no funds (his bank account having been hacked by Bane and the mercenaries) and gaining access to an island city that has been quarantined under threat of atomic destruction. Perhaps Bruce Wayne had a tunnel built from the opposite side of the bay.