No snark, no spandex pantomime spectacle. Just noir mystery, Pattinson’s sad recluse a detective in a cesspit of corruption. Relentlessly grim, all darkness and despair, not escapist but of our time.
Not fit to lick the boots of Martin Scorsese or Christopher Nolan, though the height of its ambition appears to be its desperation to do so. A movie as pathetically ineffectual as its protagonist.
When I look at my watch during a movie, it’s because I’m checking to see if my guess about where in the runtime we are coincides with what just happened onscreen. This book is what makes that possible.
I guess Gotham City and the universe were fending for themselves that day.
I am not suggesting that we should ban or censor movies full of despair! I’m suggesting that these despairing movies are doing too good a job of reflecting our society, and it’s our society we should be concerned with, not the messengers who deliver this news.
This may be the darkest, the grimmest, the most depressing summer popcorn movie ever. It is not summery. It is not popcorny. The peasants of Gotham are us, we 99 percent huddled in the dark and frantic for a hero we will not find.
Links my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
New York Post critic Kyle Smith cries foul at the fact that Kristen Stewart is so well paid for Twilight, but he seems to miss a key point…
What my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
If it isn’t a failure of faith in our leaders that has made superhero films so popular in recent years, just what is it about this moment that has caused a resurgence in superheroes’ popularity?