Tim Burton’s ‘Batman’ Had To Overcome Crazy On-Set Drama

Only Tim Burton could take a trust-fund baby with abandonment issues and a cackling clown and spin it into gold in Summer 1989. We are, of course, talking about Batman. Never mind that Gotham City is made out of plywood and the Batmobile was cobbled together from two junked Chevy Impalas welded together in a British scrapyard. That’s the power of movies. Its massive budget and marketing extravaganza also hid a lot of sordid secrets and scheming. The production history of Batman and Batman Returns is more melodramatic than any CW teen drama, complete with forbidden romances, secret cliques, bullies, geeks, rich kids, and the awkward goth kid hiding in the bathroom from girls.

Much of what we know comes courtesy of insiders, leaking all the embarrassing gossip Warner Bros. covered up. We understand why. Before a single day of shooting, everyone involved seemed to sense the Batman reboot would either wind up a colossal hit or a dismal, career-derailing flop, as had befallen the Superman actor Christopher Reeve. Keep in mind, in 1989, the last major superhero flick was 1987’s Superman IV, a film so awful it nearly killed off the genre and DC Comics’ film ambitions with it. This is a production where nothing could go wrong, and it didn’t bring out the best in people.

“Wait ‘Til They Get a Load of Me”

Jack Nicholas as Joker in 1989 Batman

Warner Bros.

With the Batman role locked up, there remained one more essential bit of casting to sort out. From the beginning, it was evident that Jack Nicholson was the ideal selection. The casting was a high-stakes affair that could make or break the film, and the studio played all its cards accordingly. In an interview with Take2MarkTV, an irritated Robin Williams said he was used as “bait” in Warner Bros.’ ruse to scare Nicholson into inking a contract.

With a deal finally brokered, WB offered the then-two-time-Oscar-winner Nicholson a huge sum, with the bonus stipulation that he could fly back from the set in England to see his favorite NBA team back home in LA, per Far Out. Oh, and he got top-billing, reminding everyone whose movie set this was. His financial consultant wisely opted for the deal that yielded a cut of the merchandising. As Nicholson predicted, the film became a cultural event. For every kid who had a Joker action figure, Batmobile bed, or VHS tape in the ’90s, your parents’ hard-earned paychecks subsidized the Venetian marble wet bar on Jack’s yacht.

Batman’s Lurid Love Triangle

The Joker was a cinch compared to the rest of the hires; Burton and the casting director were lambasted for having the nerve to select a gangly comedian for the lead role. Sean Young, of Blade Runner fame, is the real victim of the Burton-Batman saga. Originally cast in the Vicki Vale role that ultimately went to Kim Basinger, Young’s emotions got the best of her. In auditions, she showed her displeasure at her lines being cut, shooting daggers at the producers, director, and cast. Batman supporting actor Robert Wuhl goes so far as to suggest that the studio producers were relieved when their actress was injured after being thrown from a horse, knocking her out of the movie weeks before she was slated to report to set in England. Young loved the Batman vibe and desperately wanted to be part of the next installment, feeling it was owed to her, casting director Marion Dougherty recalled in her memoir:

“No one quite understood why Sean Young, who’d already had the chance to be in one of Tim’s Batman movies, was so set on getting the part of Catwoman. She actually dressed up in a Catwoman suit and came to the studio in an attempt to track down Tim. He was horrified as I was at the notion and hid in his bathroom until she was asked to leave the studio by security.”

Young was out, again. Michelle Pfeiffer was the back-up, taking over after Annette Bening resigned from the role due to her pregnancy, the revolving door of Batman leading ladies twirling on. The intensity on screen between Keaton and Pfeiffer is real, the unrequited lovers reliving their doomed romance in front of millions of strangers. In 1988, Pfeiffer had been floated for the role of Vicki Vale before Young. But due to their past relationship, Keaton lobbied the producers to ax her from the film to avoid pissing off his wife. “Keaton was firmly, and underline firmly, against that casting of Pfeiffer, and he and [Batman producer Jon] Peters got into it,” Wuhl let slip to The Hollywood Reporter in 2019. Batman was such a critical priority that the set became a wood chipper for egos and working/personal relationships.

The King of Pop vs. “The Artist”

Singer Prince didn’t play nicely with his musical collaborators. Lured in by the purple wardrobe, he eagerly signed on. Comic-book fan Michael Jackson asked to record love ballads, while Prince jammed on the high-energy rock songs, but Prince nixed the concept of dueling soundtracks. Due to a rivalry between the two, Jackson got booted, with Prince prevailing due to his prior ties to Warner Bros. Sensing the film needed more classical orchestration, the little-known Danny Elfman was recruited by his buddy Burton, only to discover he’d have to work with control freak Prince.

Elfman offered the studio an ultimatum: he would compose separately with complete artistic control, or he’d walk. “I knew that if I collaborated, he’d be writing tunes, and I’d be orchestrating his tunes, and I’d be essentially a glorified arranger, rather than a composer,” he said to MusicRadar in 2023. For weeks, he waited for the phone to ring, fearing he had stupidly wasted his chance, daring to put himself on the same level as the Oscar-winning Prince, a man who had already starred in and scored his own films. Luckily, for him and audiences, WB relented, allowing Elfman to generate the greatest superhero soundtrack of all time.

Alas, none of this could save the mastermind, Burton. He was forced out, children sobbing in confused terror after witnessing his exquisitely demented Batman Returns. Considering all the soul-crushing chaos behind the scenes, that seems the only appropriate ending to Burton’s term as the creative leader of the Caped Crusader franchise.