Watching “Batman Begins” I am reminded of what struck me first about Chicago in 1998 (never knowing that I was actually end up there for a substantial portion of my life. Also interesting that they chose Chicago instead of NYC for their depiction of Gotham.) It’s the lower level of the city, reserved for truck shipments and serving as a quasi-expressway leading into the Loop. For the longest time, it was a haunted appearing place, since the intersection of Lower Wacker Dr and Lower Michigan Ave had been dismantled, in the process of retrofit. It reminded of the section of Midgar (from Final Fantasy VII) which lay completely underneath the “Plate,” which is the upscale downtown district overlying the slums.

There was something intriguing about those deserted corridors, perpetually lit by the awful neon orange of the sodium lights, seemingly now abandoned. This changed drastically when the reconstruction of Lower Wacker Dr was completed. Now you had a direct route just off of the Eisenhower Expressway that quickly took you to the Magnificent Mile, with very little cross traffic in between. (You will likely recognize Lower Wacker Dr if you watch one of the chase scenes in “Batman Begins.” It is also, apparently, the site of the famous “Blues Brothers” chase sequence which I never got to watch.)

The other part of Wacker Dr. that I find interesting is that final elevation that dead ends right next to the Hilton. It reminds me of the unconstructed superhighways in Midgar, and it seems like Wacker Drive was supposed to connect with Lakeshore Drive, possibly as a full interchange rather than just an intersection. If you were to barrel down Upper Wacker Dr at, say, 100 mph, you would easily launch yourself, only to crash down on top of Lakeshore Drive traffic. Or you might actually end up in Lake Michigan.

The only other city that I can think of that has a multi-tiered downtown area is L.A. Because the modern central business district is built on top of Bunker Hill, there is a bizarre maze of bridges and tunnels, stairs, and funiculars, and it is not always clear where perpendicular streets actually intersect. For example, there is the 4th Street causeway that avoids most of the major north-south streets. Then there is the 2nd Street tunnel that does the same. The Grand Ave. overpass meanwhile avoids many of the major east-west streets. If you watch enough car commercials, you will frequently see downtown L.A. (I think the Grand Ave. overpass and the 4th Street causeway are popular streets to film, although the most interesting are the multifarious bridges that cross the L.A. River.)

Because the streets are so absurdly wide, and because of the King of Spain’s original decree that the city’s grid should be laid out on a 45° angle with respect to the cardinal directions of north, south, east, and west, the streets underneath the shadows of the skyscrapers never get quite as cold and gloomy as do the streets of, say, Manhattan, or the Loop, or of San Francisco. But downtown L.A. is a diurnal city, quickly emptying after rush hour, leaving only the denizens of Skid Row there. While better than the 1990s, there still isn’t that much of a nightlife there, at least not compared to Hollywood just a few miles northwest, and definitely not compared to Chicago’s Mag Mile or to Manhattan. (Although, really, is there that much to do in the Downtown area?)

But I can’t help but wonder, as sprawl becomes more and more difficult to maintain and businesses find it once again more reasonable to return to the central city, as law enforcement becomes balkanized and more and more likely to be taken over by private companies because of economic reality, making it more useful to just patrol the commercial districts, and to let jungle law rule the suburbs, with the movements to revitalize central city districts and making them places not only to work, but to live as well, just how dense can places like Manhattan get? In NYC, will there someday be a part of town that literally never gets sunlight, because there is no sky above?