The Dark Knight reviewed by meatlights

Saw The Dark Knight this afternoon. I would get a lot of shit for this if anyone actually read this blog, but Batman Begins is a better movie which I like the most between the two.

Or should I say, three.

To contain my Batcitement (going to see this film made me actually feel happy–such a rare and alien feeling) I bought the animated Batman movie Gotham Knight and watched it the night before.

Gotham Knight (which could also be called Batman 2.5) features 6 loosely connected stories, some referencing events of Batman Begins. It’s beautifully animated and well-written; any Bat Fan is bound to love at least two of the segments and enjoy the rest.

But back to The Dark Knight. Fanboys are claiming the role of The Joker drove Heath Ledger “insane” or pushed him over the edge….it’s an idiotic urban legend that’s taken on a life of its own and will probably be with us for decades. Ledger was no more made insane by this role than he was turned gay by Brokeback Mountain.

Is Ledger’s Joker Oscar-worthy? It’s a moot question due to the tragedy of the circumstances. I thought it was an excellent performance for a rather limited character. A better question would be “Does anyone give a shit about the Oscars any more?”

Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent was equally good as was Gary Oldman’s James Gordon, and Bale, of course, IS Batman. I’m in the camp that thinks that Maggie Gyllenhal–so hot in her weird way–is an improvement over Katie “Xenu” Holmes.

With hundreds of extras running around, Gotham doesn’t have the dark, claustrophobic feel it did in the first movie and is therefore less of a “character.” That’s a minor gripe. The more serious (“Why…so…SERIOUS?”) problems I had with The Dark Knight were unfortunately recurring: its exceeding length, suspense build-ups that tarry and about halfway through all the characters are “endumbened” as they often are in horror movies, in order to move the story along. Without giving anything away, much of the Joker’s evil plans involve infiltration, but there’s a marked lack of checking and double-checking credentials. “Cop A” climbs into a vehicle with “Cop B” whom he’s never seen before and doesn’t think twice about it. It does get tedious, but as the box office shows, curmudgeons like me aren’t going to stop what may end up being the biggest movie of all time.

Until next summer.

Pot, pancakes, despair

Last night (ah, the horrors that follow those words) I reached for marijuana, just a few hits off a joint cig (stuff called “Ultra II” if that means anything) the first time I’ve touched any plants since Xmas.

Pain was (and is) eating me alive, but since that’s going to happen anyway, why not file a few teeth out of the shark’s mouth?

It worked, sort of.  I took 4 small hits.  The shit worked as promised and I waited another hour before driving.  I went to my friend Egg’s house, where he prepared homemade French bread pizzas with fresh garlic  (complimenting the half a giant candy bar I wolfed down on the way over).

Egg is up on my complaints with women.  I explained the latest delusions I was using to keep my spirits propped up.  Women are founts of life and primordial swamps of misery.  You can’t hate what you love, the rose has to be planted in manure, etc.  Egg knew all this already, his hard-working wife fully provided him CliffsNotes on the subject of female capriciousness by forever going out with fags while not fucking him as much as he would like.

While Egg left to take his drunkard older brother home, I stayed with his two young sons, the 5-year-old and me ending up watching Born on the 4th of July.  I hate Oliver Stone but don’t deny his genius, his movie worlds have their own laws of physics, morality and are beautiful to watch.

Of course, we couldn’t watch long because of the horrific nature of the film and fortunately the kid lost interest.  When Ron Kovic was lying down screaming (which as Tom Cruise as he did a lot) I told the kid “the guy was having a nightmare he was being burned with a giant popsicle”.  Maybe it was the truth.

I went from my computer to Egg’s computer and the internet was just as I’d left it at my place.  The rambunctious kid kept playfully attacking me, trying to jump on my lap.  Normally I hate children but as an honorary uncle I wrestled him a little.  It helped remove some of the despair from the air.  Despite the urchin’s cherubic looks someday he too will be going through the same hell I am now, that all men suffer, gay or straight, rich or poor.  Who knows what her name will be or even if she’s born yet.

It finally got late.  Egg returned, his wife came back from partying with the finooks and he and I went to Wal-mart and ate breakfast at an all-night chain (not ihop).

I’m going to fucking die and I’m sorry it wasn’t last night in my sleep, those pancakes were good.