When you get right down to it, Gotham and Metropolis are the same place -- a setting for superheroes with an unsettling resemblance to New York City on a really bad day. Gotham is a nickname for NYC, first applied to the future Metropolis at the beginning of the Nineteenth Century by Washington Irving (Of Sleepy Hollow and the "Headless Horseman" fame). It wasn't meant as a flattering appellation -- it means "Goat Town" (not GOAT town) -- but caught on nonetheless. After decades of hypergrowth, the five boroughs were merged into a great big Metropolis at the end of the century.
I recently watched Zack Snyders treatment of Batman and Superman, where Gotham plays Newark to NYC's Metropolis. The two movies -- Batman V. Superman (Ultimate Edition) and Zack Snyder's Justice League -- are available on Max and are quite long. They took about a week to watch, although I did take some breaks for sleep and such.
I thought bringing the two cities together worked about as well as bringing Batman and Superman together -- by which I mean not well. Batman is a regular man (an especially good one) who battles regular human criminals (the especially bad ones -- who may have been goosed with this or that toxic juice). Toss him at high velocity against reinforced concrete and he's done, no matter how good his armor is. In the fight scenes with Superman, that happened quite a lot, though the Supe' fought with a kryptonite handicap. In the end, they became friends and took on a big -- I don't know what the hell it was, but it was big -- something or other. Wonder Woman shows up to help. "I thought she was with you," was the best line in the movie.
Not to ruin it (I don't think it will), but Superman dies at the end of the first movie and comes back to life halfway through the second. I thought it was another bad choice. It's ridiculously hard to kill the guy and when it happens it should mean something. Of course, I knew it couldn't last since he was going to be in the second movie.
Originally, Gotham was a metropolis in its own right, with its High Society, uber-wealthy, and widespread corruption. It got downgraded into a depressed, hollowed-out, post-industrial has been. Its character changed, and so did Batman, who became less of a detective and more of a Gatling gun.
The Justice League was so long that towards the end I began rooting for the Vile Henchman and his Flying Monkey minions (an homage, I presume, to a much better film, The Wizard of Oz). Quite simply, I wanted planet Earth to be put out of its misery -- and the rest of the multiverse with it (talk about high stakes). Then there is the small matter of the epilogue. A couple of minutes to round things up wouldn't do. Instead, we launched into another bizarre movie, and a very confusing one -- except it turned out to be a bad dream, a Batman bad dream.
By this time I zoned out and the credits began to roll, backed by a soft piano instead of a mighty orchestra. I reached to turn it off but stopped. I wondered: Is that Hallelujah? I hadn't heard the Leonard Cohen song in a few decades and the piano piece was more of an improv. But a few minutes into it the Lady sang: