Maybe you’re somebody who has no qualms when hundreds of millions of dollars are spent on a movie that amounts to a couple great chase scenes and a rock ‘em, sock ‘em fight with the hero’s girlfriend tied to some time-sensitive death contraption. But I always feel teased. Like I just got back from a date where my interest was exploited for a free meal. The Dark Knight is a diamond in a mound of cubic-zirconia gemstones, two and a half hours of blockbuster at it’s finest, a movie worth the price of a concert ticket.

Please, allow me to clear my head of my immediate reactions: The Dark Knight is the shit! It is so awesome I can not stare into the light of its awesomeness without seeing spots. Better than I hoped–and I was hoping for a lot–there were even points where I sat looking at the screen thinking, “Can Christopher Nolan (writer/director) possibly sustain my amazement any further?” The answer: Yeppers, and with a choke-on-its-way-down ending. I’ll shut off the blathering even though I want to keep going.

Christopher Nolan does what I wanted Jon Favreau to do with Iron Man. Kick ass and kick more ass while always staying a step ahead of me (Heath Ledger as The Joker is as mystifying and sensual as Hannibal Lecter). Then–so I don’t feel he just took my money for a couple great chase scenes–he knocks me in the head. When I walked out of the theater I couldn’t balance out the world. I laid awake in bed rethinking the Iraq war based on something a guy in a bat costume said, and that’s when I knew I’d gotten my money’s worth. …Read more