Acid Baths, Leather Kitties, and Danny DeVito

She's staring at me like I just told her she's my baby's father. Like I told her that I'm a secret canabal and in a moment I plan to eat her. Like I told her I sold my soul to Stephanie Myers.

"YOU DON'T LIKE BATMAN?"

But that's not what I said, as I attempt to explain.
I like Batman fine.

"How could you not like Heath Ledger as THE JOKER?!"

That's not what I meant either.
He was freakin' great.

Its just that I enjoyed Tim Burton's take on Gotham City better than these 2 most recent films.
That's all.
[Nevermind the fact that I fell asleep part way through Begins. From here on out, we'll only be comparing Dark Knight, which, fortunately for the sake of this review, I've seen twice.]

But she's looking at me like I confessed to being the Zodiac Killer. Like I joined a cult recently. Like I'm going to start shopping at Abercrombie.

Its ok though, I've been bracing myself for this reaction. For months I've realized that this is how I feel, but its only been recently that I've finally worked up the desire to say so out loud.
Because who in their right mind doesn't LOVE the Dark Knight, right?

And let's get this straight-I do recognize The Dark Knight as a supierorly made film, closer to the comic [while we're here, lets get another thing out of the way: I have not read any of the comics. Nothing on Batman, at least. Nada. Zip. I am an ignorant fuck, so please excuse me, and all I may happen to know comes from being raised by an army of geeks.], better dialogue, more...realistic. Whatever.

I prefer cheesy whimsical weirdness.
Sooo. Shoot me.



Just look at Michelle's black leather badass self. Danny DeVito so grotesque and disgusting!

This may, in the end, have to do with two things: My childhood, and Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman.

In regards to my childhood, Batman and Batman Returns [and the two after, but they will get their own post eventually...for reasons you will see.] had already been part of my life, soaked into my tiny impressionable mind from the start. Now, I have an immesense appriciation for everything that affected me during childhood, and I often feel like those around me, in my age demographic, seem to constantly disregard anything /older/ then them, heaven forbid, and quite probably anything older than 5 years with that snarky scoff of theirs. So therefore, I feel indebt to these films, or someone must carry infomation on into the next decades. Someone's got to care.

Does this make any sense? Maybe I'm getting off track. No one ever said these reviews were going to be well written.

I also come from the age of Shot Attention spans, or so many middle age types will complain. This may or may not have something do with it all as well.

But anyway, the dark cartoonishness that can be found in EVERY Burton film delights me more than having a plausable superhero film. This is especially true of Returns, in which the Villians steal the show in their black leather and furs. As a right brained person, I find it all incredibly visually stimulating- the snow, the grit, the stylistic whatevers.

As for Bale, and this is an arguement that people who've seen American Psycho can back me up on, finally get my point of view with: I just. Can't. Have him be Batman. American Psycho was the first and only other movie I've seen the dude in, and he did such a brilliant job at portraying that disgusting, disturbed, materialistic madman that trying to side with him as one of the greatest heros of all time is something that I just can't get over. It doesn't sit well. Weirds me out.

Nonetheless, we all agree that Heath Ledger did an incredible last performance. That much is true...

But didn't you want to see the Joker fall, screaming crazily into a vat of acid? Just a little bit? Because I totally did.



But, really, how many of you were routing for the hero in Dark Knight? How many of you couldn't wait until Ledger got back on the screen with his tongue flicks and hair slicks? And that purple jacket! Very classy.

So, I don't know how else to explain it, except that there was just a little something strange and cartoonish about the 1989/1992 films and that's just how I like them. If only now, I could say this and feel accepted...until then, people, really. Don't take it all so seriously.

Next week, Juno Vs. Saved: A death match of teenage pregnancy!