I really expected to relate more to the protagonist of the documentary film, Batman and Me. Darren Maxwell aka “Dags,” is a formerly obsessive-compulsive Australian toy collector.
He is, by his own admission, an original Star Wars geek, but this film concentrates on his enormous Batman collection that began with the first Michael Keaton movie in 1989 and lasted only through 1997.
No questions asked, during that time period, this man bought everything Batman, even if the cost came out of his grocery budget that month. The whole first part of the picture is basically Dags telling the camera about how he came to buy this or that, or that, or this, or…
Over and over, he expresses the importance of never opening anything, even Batman edibles from decades ago.
One thing I have never understood is that “mint in box” mentality and this guy is ridiculously focused on that mind-set.
My wife has some Star Trek figures that are mint in box, but me?
I open things and enjoy them. That’s what they’re for.
Darren seems like a nice fella. He talks fast and he smiles a lot. He seems now to recognize that he may have overdone it when he was actively collecting. That’s always a hard lesson for any collector. Been there, done that. Darren seems proud of the Batman room in his house but also a bit embarrassed about it now. He calls himself an authority on Star Wars but says, “Batman I really know nothing at all. Outside of the movies, I’m lost.”
Darren, and the film, emphasize that he had created a “secret identity” of his own as Dags, the ultimate Batman collector. Again, on that score, as “Booksteve,” I can sort of relate. There have been times I resented my online persona as “he” became much more well-known and popular than the “real” me. Similarly, Dags also became a bit of an albatross to Darren.
The filmmaker/narrator calls the sterile Batman room “a snapshot of a toy shop shelf.” Darren himself at the end, seems content to leave the room as is, untouched, itself “mint in box” if you will, and get on with his life now as a non-collector. “It’s just a place.”
At the climax, the filmmaker involves himself directly in Darren’s story and Darren speculates that the documentary itself has forever cemented his miniscule place in pop history as a Batman collector. Then the camera metaphorically pulls back for a few minutes in an attempt to place Darren’s story in the larger world of today’s pop culture and widening collector mentality.
Much of the documentary is just like you’re spending the afternoon at someone’s house and they’re showing off their stuff. It’s interesting, but you aren’t allowed to touch it and they have no real emotional attachment to it.
The Darren vs. Dags speculation seemed like it could be interesting but really went nowhere. We’re told over and over that he doesn’t really know or like Batman.
He’s a Star Wars guy, through and through. Kind of takes the sheen off a movie called Batman and Me, y’know?
So, your afternoon visit is pleasant enough, I guess, and it’s with some nice, friendly people, and it really is neat to see all the vintage bat-stuff. But I’m afraid it doesn’t really seem to amount to much of anything in the long run.
* * * * *
Produced by Andrew Martyn, Michael Wayne
Written by Andrew Martyn, Michael Wayne, Rebecca Richardson
Directed by Michael Wayne
Featuring Darren Maxwell, Peter Sims, Lynne Brack
For more details, visit BatmanAndMe.com
