Posts tagged ‘Batman’

Hey, you’ve really got to hand it to DC and Warner Bros. In the same year that they’ve been knocked from pillar to post for releasing the distinctly average Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice, they’ve now managed to pull out all the stops and have provided us with a superhero film – or rather a boringvillain film – that is by far the most joyless and clumsily-assembled I’ve seen since last year’s mishandled Fantastic Four reboot. Way to go, DC! That’s close to half a billion spent on two of the poorest blockbuster films of 2016, both of which have failed to assertively establish a credible, cohesive series to rival Marvel’s ongoing blur of colourful spandex and quippery. And no, YouTube clips of characters like Aquaman and sudden, brief appearances by The Flash are not acceptable enough in terms of world-building.

David Ayer’s Suicide Squad – a riff on The Dirty Dozen that’s loosely adapted from the comic series of the same name – opens with a raft of interminable exposition, which slowly introduces us to the main characters in the most simplistic (and patronising) way possible. Viola Davis plays the high-ranking army official who wants to put a squad of bad guys together, ostensibly so that they can be sent in to tackle any ‘meta-human’ threats in the future (especially as Superman’s currently … uh … unavailable). She sits in a restaurant going through a dossier, but we see more of her later, and to Davis’ credit she somehow manages to walk away from this film with her reputation enhanced. In terms of the villains, first up is Will Smith’s Deadshot, a hitman who can shoot accurately. Imagine! In fact, for some bizarre reason, the character is introduced twice: once during a kind of brief origin story, and then once more in a flashback to a back alley showdown with Ben Affleck’s Batman, which establishes the fact that Deadshot’s a little conflicted because he has a daughter (god forbid Smith should ever play an out-and-out bastard, thereby tarnishing his carefully-honed image). Some barely-relevant and jokey text appears on screen alongside him, which is indicative of the infamous late decision to add humour to the film, and seems completely at odds with the style of the rest of the piece. Other characters get the same treatment, including Margot Robbie’s crazy Harley Quinn. Initially a psychiatrist before becoming the tortured moll-like plaything of The Joker (Jared Leto, more later), she too is captured by The Batfleck during an unnecessarily misogynistic scene in which she is punched in the face, given a lusty bit of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation after nearly drowning, and then subsequently half-strangled by her captor (much of which is filmed from Batman’s perspective). Worse is to come: the Harley Quinn costume design is certainly striking in this film, but Ayer resorts to filming Robbie like he’s got a daily ass-shot quota to fill, and perves over her backside while forcing the actress to acrobatically wrap her legs around the heads of people she fights. She tries gamely to make the character’s personality the focus, but she’s fighting against a director and a studio that are only truly interested in her body; eventually you realise that the decision to set much of the film in the rain was taken so that Robbie’s nipples can be seen through her soaked t-shirt. It’s insulting, and degrading, though undoubtedly the decision to turn her into a teenage boy’s wet dream will have substantially increased ticket sales. Yay.


Will Smith and Margot Robbie in Suicide Squad.

Others – less important characters, evidently, or rather characters played by actors who do not enjoy the status and associated contractual stipulations of a Will Smith – are quickly and haphazardly introduced. Jai Courtney’s Captain Boomerang is a stereotype of an Australian man, who constantly drinks beer and (fucking hell) throws a boomerang. Jay Hernandez is El Diablo, a stereotypical Latino gangbanger who can create fire; no information is provided as to how he got this power, but at one point he turns into a flaming demon, so there’s that. Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje plays Killer Croc, a man with reptilian features whose special ability appears to be zipping up a hoodie before undoing the zip again. Yes, really. Joel Kinnaman is Rick Flag, a sort of human charisma vortex who is placed in charge of the team. There are others: a man who looks a bit like Steven Seagal can climb buildings very well; a Japanese woman has a sword that captures the souls of its victims, or something. Some of these are tossed into the story in such a rushed, lazy fashion it’s hard to care a jot about anything that happens to them.


Jared Leto as The Joker

So this is the core squad, who are subsequently sent to Midway City to tackle Cara Delevingne’s Enchantress, a powerful sorceress (in another skimpy outfit) who wants to bring about the end of days. She wreaks havoc while carefully establishing one of those swirling, lightning-y portals that seem to have become shorthand in superhero films for ‘we have no ideas left, but look at THIS anyway’. (Enchantress’s special power: attempting to do an impression of mime artist Marcel Marceau despite having lost all control of her limbs.) She also has a brother, and between them they manage to create an army of once-human drones, who have heads that look like blackberries. Blackberries! Much fighting ensues, all of it taking place at night in the rain, none of it inventively choreographed or containing any fresh ideas, all of it punctuated by awkward exchanges between the Suicide Squad members. Fuck me it’s dreary, and remains so even when Leto’s Joker shows up. (Oh yeah, The Joker: Leto is all forced, unconvincing insanity and gangsta bling, and he’s only in this film briefly and intermittently, which is a huge relief.)

Suicide Squad is riddled with poor writing, bad editing, lazy, half-baked ideas, terrible acting and an unintentional mixed tone that suggests not just moviemaking by committee but moviemaking by a committee that couldn’t find a singular, cohesive vision if it was locked in a meeting room for a decade. The film is supposed to be funny; it isn’t funny. The film is supposed to be edgy, and dark; it isn’t, unless you take the word darkness literally. The film is supposed to be subversive; it isn’t. I presume it’s supposed to be fun, too; yet this was the least fun I’ve had in the cinema in a long, long time. It’s a drag, a bore, a turd that thuds into your day. It takes your money before laughing in your face. It insults the intelligence of cinemagoers. The only real point of interest surrounding the film is that one day we’ll find out where it all went wrong, and blame for the debacle can be correctly apportioned.

It could be Ayer, I suppose, but then he has managed to get good performances from a range of actors in the past, so I’m not sure why direction appears to be completely beyond him here. A glimpse at his career shows that he has a preference for stories about men and their relationships during duty, but there’s no sign of any understanding of male bonding here, and his decision to dress two of the three fairly prominent female characters in skimpy outfits is quite telling. Yet given that Zack Snyder has set DC’s recent bleak tone with a brace of disappointing, overly-serious films, Ayer had a rather unenviable task; he had to follow the earlier director’s shitty, downbeat style, and yet he has clearly also been tasked with making a film that is lighter, and funnier, and a kind of DC equivalent to Marvel’s popular hit Guardians Of The Galaxy. How on earth could he be expected to do that?

I could go on. Just contemplate the use of music here, for example: there’s little thought behind most of it, and some of the soundtrack choices are completely irrelevent, included simply because they offer a slight juxtaposition with the action. There’s no thread to the music at all. And just to reiterate: the decision to throw in a few recognisable characters – as well as Batman and The Joker we also get a brief glimpse of Ezra Miller’s The Flash – smacks of desperation by Warner Bros and DC too, a shortcut to remind us that this is supposed to be taking place within a wider world (and that there’s a Justice League movie on the way, too); I’m just surprised that they didn’t think to shoehorn Wonder Woman in there somewhere, given her current popularity.

All told this is a film in which so much has been thrown together in the hope that some of it will work, and at a cost of $175 million to boot. Sadly, very little does actually work. Never mind: I expect you – like me – have paid to see it now anyway. These studios really do have a lot of us over a barrel; people who watch superhero movies in their droves won’t stop doing so now, for fear of missing out on something important, even though the stories will never ever end. Suicide Squad is just further confirmation that any old shit can turn a massive profit if it’s marketed correctly.

Directed by: David Ayer.
Written by: David Ayer.
Starring: Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Joel Kinnaman, Viola Davis, Jai Courtney, Jared Leto, Cara Delevingne, Jay Hernandez, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Karen Fukuhara.
Cinematography: Roman Vasyanov.
Editing: John Gilroy.
Steven Price / Various.
Running Time:

[Note: There has been so much written about this film – which is every bit as cumbersome and bloated as its title – that I can hardly muster the will to add more noise to the cacophony, which has been about as enjoyable to sift through during the past week as the Phone Book. But I will nonetheless, purely for the simple fact that I may one day wish to go back and read about my own thoughts on Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice (herewith referred to as ‘BvS‘) at the time of release. Here goes.]

BvS opens with the big battle from the end of 2013’s Man Of Steel, and we glimpse Henry Cavill’s Superman fighting Michael Shannon’s antagonist General Zod in the skies above Metropolis; the continuity is a nice touch, and it also introduces the audience to Ben Affleck’s take on Bruce Wayne/Batman, here on the ground sans-Batsuit and trying to save employees unlucky enough to be working in one of the many buildings destroyed by the men of Krypton. (Ever the capitalist pigdog, Wayne drives past dozens of similar buildings that are presumably full of innocent people who need saving in order to get to those on his payroll.) Zack Snyder, the earlier film’s director, is back in the chair for this blockbuster, and I like the fact that he addresses one of the overwhelming criticisms of Man Of Steel, which concerned its lack of empathy with the countless people presumably killed or injured amid all the Zod/Superman carnage. Indeed the issue of that human collateral damage subsequently becomes the driving force for Wayne’s mistrust of Superman, which is echoed more generally by the rest of society, and which in turn paves the way for the good guy versus good guy battle that the title promises.

In this film Superman is a figure who divides public opinion: those who have loved ones saved by the hero treat him like a deity, and he arrogantly bathes in their adoration, while a monument has already been constructed in his honour in Metropolis. Others are skeptical, protesting at said monument and outside the US Capitol, with some wishing to develop the means to control him, including Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor (a performance that I actually found slightly entertaining and colourful, where all else is dark, grave and intentionally serious). Wayne and Luthor’s developing interests in Superman occur in tandem, though the screenplay by Chris Terrio and David Goyer gets slightly bogged down with details while juggling their particular motivations with all the political wrangling. Superman, meanwhile, doesn’t quite know what to make of it all, and still seems to be a work in development, battling a crisis of confidence. On the other side of the ‘versus’ Affleck’s Batman is a tired, grizzled brawler wrestling with his own demons, and his alter-ego Bruce Wayne is a man of few words. Affleck had the tougher job here – new to the franchise, and with Christian Bale’s recent performances as Batman still fresh in the memory of lots of fans – and he does quite well, all told, with his physical presence emphasised by director and cinematographer Larry Fong, which draws attention away from his limitations as an actor. I’ve certainly seen worse Batmen.


Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman in BvS:DoJ

It takes an age to get to the promised face-off between the two, with plenty of silly dream sequences and tonally-surprising material interrupting along the way (Superman apparently has no problem killing (Arabic) people, for example, while Batman’s brand of rough justice really does become a brand). Meanwhile all the usual peripheral figures from the old comic books and the previous films drop in and out of the story at irregular intervals: Lois Lane, Perry White, Martha Kent and Alfred Pennyworth are all present and correct and played by big stars whose talents are largely being wasted. When the Batman and Superman fight finally takes place it’s a bit of a let-down, all told, and – considering the long build-up – it’s over with quite quickly; lots of unimaginative smashy-smashy, plenty of by-the-numbers paggery-paggery, and a little bit of seen-it-all-before ouchy-ouchy, before the pair bury the hatchet at a surprising speed. This they do in order to engage in another fight, and their enemy for the final showdown is the Luthor-created Doomsday, an orc-like figure who sends out massive shockwaves and who is capable of destroying entire neighbourhoods in seconds (the script’s insistence on pointing out to the audience that these areas are currently deserted, to head-off those earlier criticisms, is laughable). Of course Snyder is into more comfortable territory by this point, and the battle is every bit as long, loud and noisy as you’d expect. Anyone who has seen Man Of Steel will know what’s coming, though it does feature the notable addition of Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, who has set many pulses a-racing already and will continue to do so in her own spin-off film, slated for 2017.

Even with my limited comic book knowledge I can see that Snyder and his writers have picked certain well-known titles as influences, in terms of the story, the script, the tone, the costumes and the production design of BvS: Mike Carlin’s Death Of Superman series is perhaps the most obvious, while Frank Miller’s famously-murky graphic novel The Dark Knight Returns is also a touchstone; there are hints to A Death In The Family and, presumably, many others. I actually feel a little more generosity toward the director now than I did a couple of years back, as he has at least successfully drawn on this rich history in order to establish a template for this new DC franchise, even if you do happen to dislike the joyless direction he’s moved it in and the reliance on long, skull-buggering set pieces, as I do myself. The DC films do at least feel distinct from those offered up by Marvel, which are generally lighter and frothier in comparison (Snyder, if anything, is a director who seems to have a deep-rooted mistrust for jokes). My sympathy for the director also increased in the wake of the terrible reviews for BvS that stacked up last week; yes it’s long, messy, loud, way too bleak and riddled with plot holes (how exactly does Lois Lane know to find the spear she has thrown away?), but it’s not that bad. (Lest we forget that this recent film is still stinking out the superhero stable.) I don’t disagree with the general thrust of those poor notices, though; the script is wonky and suffers from overcomplication, you exit feeling like you’ve been bashed over the head for 150 minutes, and the relentless dourness sucks most of the enjoyment out of the process. The superhero films I like contain at least a small degree of fascination with the powers wielded by their subjects, particularly when it comes to Superman, but there’s none of that here. There’s nothing in BvS that thrills in the same way as seeing Christopher Reeve’s Clark Kent/Superman catching a mugger’s bullet for the first time, or saving Lois Lane as she falls from a skyscraper (though BvS does have its own equivalent of the latter), and it’s those moments of wonder that you miss. Snyder peppers his film with impenetrable dream sequences, references to comic book plots and characters that most viewers will miss or not understand, dreary post-9-11 symbolism, glimpses of actors and heroes who will feature in forthcoming Justice League movies and more building destruction than Fred Dibnah managed in a lifetime, but crucially he has failed yet again to add any real magic to proceedings. Only Hans Zimmer’s side of the shared score manages to do so, and only when it sporadically and briefly incorporates the main theme from Man Of Steel.

Directed by: Zack Snyder.
Written by: Chris Terrio, David S. Goyer.
Starring: Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Jesse Eisenberg, Amy Adams, Gal Gadot, Jeremy Irons, Laurence Fishbourne, Diane Lane, Holly Hunter, Scoot McNairy.
Cinematography: Larry Fong.
Editing: David Brenner.
Hans Zimmer, Junkie XL.
Running Time:
151 minutes.


Dark, portentous, poker-faced, ultra-earnest and square-jawed. That’s Bruce Wayne’s alter ego Batman (Christian Bale) for you, and that’s also Christopher Nolan’s trilogy of films in a nutshell, of which The Dark Knight Rises is the third and final part. No-one can accuse the director of not treating his subject matter seriously, or for failing to get to the root of the character.

Picking up eight years after the events depicted in The Dark Knight, Batman (or rather “The Batman” as he is unfailingly referred to here, which serves to create some distance from previous non-Nolan big and small screen incarnations) is retired, having nobly taken the fall for the crimes of former DA Harvey Dent. As a result of Dent’s posthumous lionization as a crusader for justice and peace, the draconian Dent Act means that Gotham’s officials have a tighter control over crime than ever before, though Police Commissioner Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman, who has been consistently excellent in these films) is conflicted, and contemplates telling the truth about Dent’s crimes, in order to exonerate the superhero. Meanwhile Bruce Wayne – so public and extravagant as the millionaire playboy in Batman Begins – is a recluse, mourning the death of Rachel Dawes, his love interest from the previous two films.

Hobbling around his mansion with the aid of a stick, Wayne cuts a tragic, depressed figure. He is easily bested when he catches cat burglar* Selina Kyle (Catwoman, though never named as such, played by Anne Hathaway, the only actor allowed to bring a sense of fun to proceedings) in the process of stealing both a set of pearls and a set of Bruce’s fingerprints from Wayne Manor, and when he dons the Batsuit once again to fight a new threat, the muscular, muzzled terrorist Bane (Tom Hardy), he is soundly and viciously beaten.

Bane robs the Gotham Stock Exchange, using Wayne’s fingerprints to bankrupt the businessman. The disgruntled suits at Wayne Enterprises – having plotted against Bruce in the first place – express their displeasure at this turn of events and a lack of confidence in the recluse; Wayne responds by promoting board member Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard) to CEO.

While the late Heath Ledger’s Joker was a cerebral opponent in The Dark Knight, Bane is all about the muscle (despite this initial move), and his one-on-one fights with Batman are full of thudding socks to the jaw, elbow slams, roundhouse kicks and powerful headbutts. The scrapping is heavy, and ploddingly old school, and although a comic-style “Kapow!” would be well out of place here, I occasionally wondered whether a nod to the lighter Batmen of old would be welcome.

Bane is an ex-disciple of the chief protagonist from Batman Begins, Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson, making a cameo re-appearance here), and he has amassed an underground army of devoted mercenaries who are all prepared to die for his cause. After he defeats Batman, he drops the battered bat into the same prison he himself once escaped from, somewhere in Asia. As a dedicated supervillain, Bane doesn’t just stop there, and holds the city to ransom by blowing up all the bridges, trapping the police force underground and keeping the army at bay by threatening the detonation of a nuclear bomb (though sadly Nolan decided against using a giant black ball with a fizzing fuse and the word “BOMB” painted on it in bright white capital letters). Bane frees Gotham’s many prisoners, reveals the truth about Harvey Dent and presides over the anarchy that follows.

Gordon, along with Detective John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, ably getting into the serious spirit of things by deploying a furrowed brow at all times) form a kind of resistance, and wait for Batman to escape and return from his captivity; this takes an age, and the point that Batman is really at his lowest ebb is laboured (the film feels well-paced, but ever-so-slightly bloated as a result of this extended sequence). Will he escape and return to Gotham before Bane can blow the entire city to smithereens? Of course he will, although I’m none the wiser as to how he manages to get back to Gotham from the other side of the world without a passport or a penny to his name.

Going back to the point about Bane v Batman being solely about the brawn, the same can’t be said of Nolan’s world more generally. The director has engaged convincingly with the ins-and-outs of Gotham’s high society across his three films, and the political, judicial and commercial aspects of the city – always so crucial to the stories of this particular comic book character –take up a lot of the running time here. The Dark Knight Rises is far more than simply a succession of set pieces and fights, enjoyable as they are. That said, on occasion the boardroom wrangling is a little tedious, and I found my attention drifting during two scenes set at fundraising balls. It’s not a Batman film without at least ten minutes of tuxedo-heavy fundraising, purists will tell you.

Still, despite his acceptance of the importance of City Hall, you get the impression that the director – like us – gets those warm, gooey feelings from the rest of the film: the action-packed scenes of the caped crusader crime-fighting, the shots of the city at night, and the free licence to include as much sleek, futuristic military-style hardware as he wants. The Batmobile is long gone, but in its place is a Batcycle with tyres so wide they make the Michelin Man look like Kate Moss and a frankly ludicrous Batcopter, which has seemingly been built entirely out of testosterone and a succession of mid-life crises.

As Batman possesses no superpowers of his own – as well as, presumably, an incredibly small penis – he needs all this extra garbage to compensate / take on his enemies in battle. (It’s interesting to note the similarities between Bruce Wayne / Batman and Tony Stark / Iron Man here; these two DC / Marvel staples have been far and away the most popular standalone superhero franchises of recent years, yet both characters essentially rely on technology and wealth for their power, rather than special, otherworldly abilities. Perhaps their current popularity is a damning indictment of our times; kids don’t want the ability to use x-ray vision any more, or something as useless as tingling spidey-sense: they want massive guns and big bank balances instead. Personally I’m a bit tired of the rich, bored capatiilst pig alter-egos now, though.) Nolan handles the meat-and-two-veg scenes of flying and fighting and blowing up bridges well, although the regularity with which he cuts away from characters at the point they are killed becomes frustrating after a while. Show me death! Close-up death!

While Hardy’s cold, ruthless Bane is no Joker, he’s still a memorable character, and the actor is a commanding presence here despite the fact his expressions are limited by a face mask. The Joel Schumacher era, with the dismal villainous turns of Jim Carrey, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Uma Thurman, has been soundly laid to rest: Nolan’s villains have all been worthy opponents of Bale’s phlegmy, stern Bat.

Ah yes…the voices. Clearly unsatisfied with the fact that Bale’s Batman has consistently spoken with a gravelly rasp that serves only to satisfy fans wondering what the actor sounds like when straining out a biggun’ on the toilet, Nolan introduces a counter-voice in Bane’s ridiculous impersonation of Sir-Ian-McKellen-playing-Darth-Vader-while-gargling-in-the-shower. Focus groups and early test screenings for The Dark Knight Rises criticised the character’s diction, complaining that he was difficult to understand. It was cleared up somewhat in post-production, but does not sit comfortably with the volume of other characters or the background noise, yet although it still grates throughout it’s weird enough to help make the character more threatening, and as a result more memorable.

Nolan rams home the strength and depth of the Batworld he has created by bringing back characters from previous films, even though some of them – though not all – feel a little shoe-horned into the script. While Michael Caine’s Alfred gets most of the film’s emotional moments, the re-appearances of Cillian Murphy (Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka The Scarecrow, last seen in Batman Begins), Liam Neeson and Morgan Freeman’s Lucius Fox seem a little gratuitous, though the intention is to help to tie this film to Batman Begins.

The director’s version of Gotham has always felt a little toned down compared to those we have seen before; he seems less interested in making it distinct from our own New York City than previous directors, and it’s certainly not as vivid or striking as Tim Burton’s creation. You could certainly argue, though, that Nolan has still managed to fabricate his own original, dark, unforgiving city through his characters, as opposed to using constant rain and gothic skyscrapers; it’s a more subtle way of achieving a necessarily gloomy setting, and a confident creation that closely resembles the claustrophobic LA of Inception.

The new characters are, by and large, welcome additions; although Gordon-Levitt’s heroic Blake occasionally feels superfluous, he is not without motivation and at least has some depth. He also serves to highlight the jaded, tired natures of both Jim Gordon and Batman, both of whom seem spent after a life spent fighting crime. Hathaway’s role is clearly the most fun, and she gets the best lines – the film’s only nods to time-honoured and quick-witted superhero verbal jousting are delivered via Catwoman. Cotillard is fine, but ultimately has little to do until the final fifteen minutes of the film.

Bale is again relentlessly intense in his dual role. Clearly one of the best actors of his generation, his has been an impressive run as Batman, but I’m glad it’s over now and look forward to seeing him in a greater variety of roles in the coming years, as opposed to one recurring performance (granted he tossed out that amazing performance in The Fighter in the midst of all these Bat-shenanigans). Though surrounded by good (and great) actors, it’s a shame there’s no Joker here for him to play off. Not that I would advocate bizarre plot devices that bring characters back from the dead, and I appreciate it would have been impossible for anyone to follow Heath Ledger’s turn as the grand, insane panto villain, but a Batman film without the Joker always feels a little lacking.

Overall, this is a fitting end to a very, very good and very, very serious superhero reboot, one that outperforms Sam Raimi’s enjoyable, lighter Spider Man blockbusters in terms of the strength of style and vision applied from movie to movie. Nolan has repeatedly employed people he can trust to carry out excellent and consistent work: not just the cast (as well as those that appear in all three Batman films it’s worth pointing out that Marion Cotillard, Michael Caine, Tom Hardy, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Cillian Murphy were all in Inception) but also the crew, for example his ever-present Director of Photography Wally Pfister, and the excellent costume designer Lindy Hemming. This has ensured a continuity throughout the series that has only been blotted once, an enforced change made as a result of Katie Holmes’s decision to retire temporarily from acting.

Nolan has made three very good films instead of Raimi’s two, though, and his impact on the genre is currently being felt across Hollywood: lesser directors (*cough* Zack Snyder *splutter*) have mistakenly adopted the same serious, dark tone with scant regard for the fact they are making movies about entirely different characters.

There is no tongue in cheek in Nolan’s Batman trilogy, and some may long for even a glimpse of humour, but for me The Dark Knight Rises is a fitting end to a well-crafted trilogy. It feels weighty, but not pretentious, and doesn’t neglect its raison d’etre: to provide plenty of thrills and spills. Christopher Nolan has raised the bar by which other superhero films must now be judged; that he made even better work during the same period, with The Prestige and Inception, is quite impressive.

The Basics:

Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Written by: Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan
Starring: Christian Bale, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Morgan Freeman
Certificate: 12A
Running Time: 165 Minutes
Year: 2012