Get your handkerchiefs ready; sometimes humanity doesn’t suck. For a single day in 2013, the city of San Francisco shut down almost entirely to allow one leukemia-stricken five-year-old to play Batman on its streets. Yes, for a day San Francisco became Gotham just to help out the Make-A-Wish foundation. This is San Francisco, mind you. Not freaking Paducah, Kentucky. San-Fran-Cis-Co, a city every man, woman and child over the age of ten across the globe should be able to recognize. And for a day, it was Miles Scott’s treat. As a Bay Area resident, I couldn’t be prouder; this is what life is about. I don’t know that the world has the energy to give every dying kid exactly what they want, but a child who has to go through chemo before he can talk? If he wants to play Batman for a day, the only proper response is, “how can I help?”
Sure, I’m going up against the powerful “screw dying kids” lobby, but this is something I really believe in. Hence, on November 15, 2013, adorable, miniscule Miles Scott got to be Batkid all over San Francisco while crowds, city officials, Mayor Ed Lee, restaurant owners, tourists, policemen and random denizens stopped, watched and cheered in volume … and then some filmmakers capitalized with a half-assed tribute video; which is the source of this review.
As a documentary, Batkid Begins is more afterthought than actual film. Almost every interview takes place days beyond the events. The film would have worked much better in real time, or at least documenting the hype from inception. The first half of the film details the preparation. It’s impressive. It begins with a simple Make-A-Wish from a farming family living near the Oregon border, and groooooooows. The simple reason for the blossom being that everybody sees the same thing: this is the coolest wish ever, no? This kid didn’t just want to play Batman, he wanted to BE Batman. I wanted that, too, once … or, you know, four Halloweens in a row. :blush: My costume didn’t fit quite as well. It was little more than a half mask with eye slits and plastic tunic that tied up the sides. Gotta say, I am at this very moment jealous of a five-year-old dying of leukemia. There’s something so wrong and right about that at the same time.
I will not spoil the depth of the celebration here, but merely point out that during the lunch hour (about halfway through the city-wide show), poor Miles decided he’d had enough. He was tired. The morning was awesome, but very taxing. And it’s sad 
knowing how much trouble thousands of people had gone to (not to mention the fact that the Penguin is going to get away with kidnapping Lou Seal), but when a kid with leukemia says, “I’m done,” you have to listen. Sigh. Ok, everybody, let’s take the Batmobile and go home.
I’m quite the Two-Face on this film – from a critic’s point-of-view, the picture is weak. This is one of those films that is far more uplifting than good. It’s a puff piece spliced together with the minimum of skill. The camera work is shoddy; the interviews are love letters; the recollection of the day is coherent if unremarkable; and, not unlike This Is It, Batkid Begins feels like a celebration of opportunism rather than a genuine contribution to art. HOWEVER, this story is as moving as any in recent memory and until Hollywood mangles it, this is the best retelling to date. I dare anyone with a heart not to well up from time to time at the celebration of love presented. For one day, citizens everywhere put aside pettiness and cynicism and honored the dream of a five-year-old boy. This is beauty, pure and simple.
So the lesson is clear: Dream big, always! Cuz why waste a Disneyland wish when you just might see an entire major city become your own Disneyland? And f*** that Riddler, man.
A Make-A-Wish that will flip your lid
“Crime” rampant among Ess Eff’s grid
The crowd all a squeal
Does he think it’s real?
Nananana Nananana Batkid!
Rated PG, 87 Minutes
D: Dana Nachman
W: Kurt Kuenne, Dana Nachman
Genre: Sometimes humanity doesn’t suck
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The family of Miles Scott
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: What? Do you hate dying kids? What kind of monster are you?
