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A woman of my word: The Dark Knight
You can read the following story safe in the knowledge that it has a happy ending. Fortunately.
About two months ago, as Ryan and I sat in the theater waiting to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, the trailer for The Dark Knight came on and I excitedly asked if he wanted to see it with me (in IMAX, of course). I jokingly asked if 2 months was long enough for him to save his money (he's the consummate pleader of poverty) and we had a date.
As the day loomed closer, suddenly, subtly, Ryan's "I" statements had transformed into "we." John had been invited, which I didn't have a problem with. As much as I can't stand couples who are joined at the hip, I acknowledge that when dealing with couples an unspoken invitation always exists. Fine.
Then I gradually became aware that John was inviting a few friends -- even Ryan wasn't sure exactly how many. John has a lot of friends, evidently. He's like a hip-hop band: He never appears without at least ten people behind him. This really wasn't fine with me. What had started as a fun little night out for Ryan and me was turning into the social event of the year.
Opening weekend. Shows started selling out almost immediately, predictably. We decided to avoid this madness, and instead shoot for the second weekend (I personally would've waited even longer). We bought our tickets online ahead of time, shooting for Monday night, 7 pm. I hoped a weekday night wouldn't be as popular, but I also feared the second weekend would see everyone who went opening weekend flocking to IMAX to experience it again twice as huge.
By Monday morning our show had sold out, and my anxiety skyrocketed. What didn't help was the fact that both Ryan and John took the whole day off from work just to make sure they had time to get there. Which means we COULD have gone at 10:00 in the morning, everything would have been a breeze -- except we already bought our tickets, and of course there was John's entourage that couldn't make it until the evening.
Then Ryan informed me John's nephew was going as well. We both agreed we weren't going to save seats for anyone, that people were responsible for their own, but this didn't do much to relax me. Two hours before the show I was practically hyperventilating with nervousness. And a fair amount of anger towards John for turning such a simple thing into this monstrous logistical nightmare of coordination (even though I refused to participate). I was so miserable I even contemplated walking away from the purchased ticket and no-showing -- which, if you know anything at all about me, is more against my nature than perhaps even murder. Had I not been particularly poor this week, I might have actually gone through with it.
As I sat in rush hour traffic on my way to the theater, Ryan texted me asking me to save seats, they were running late due to picking John's nephew up. Was I supposed to drape my undergarments over the chairs? I refused. I said I'd be in the back row, I'd do my best, but he was really putting me in a difficult position. He agreed and understood and we left it at that.
This was the line that greeted me when I arrived.

My idea to get there at about 5:30 just to be safe suddenly seemed hopelessly naive. The corpulent ticket taker at the bottom of the escalator asked if I knew where I was going. "Ummm, I'm assuming up those stairs into that line?"
"You're smart!" he answered. I moved past him to do just that when he called to me, "Miss! That way." He was pointing at the elevator at what appeared to be the front of the line.
"What? I can jump in front of all these people?" I asked, incredulously.
"Yep," he smirked.
I assumed I got some kind of VIP treatment because I bought my ticket online or something, though I was highly skeptical. I took the escalator up and entered the theater. I was confused because people appeared to be filing out, while others were already in their seats. So what was with that enormous line out front?
I asked the ushers and a woman who appeared to be a manager about it. I said the ticket taker told me to come straight up. "Joe," they said, rolling their eyes. Joe was very wrong -- the seated people were actually STILL seated from the previous showing. The folks on the steps had been there for 3 hours or more. Boy did I feel like an ass. And more than a little mystified as to why "Joe" deemed me so debilitated that I couldn't just climb the stairs like a normal person.
It all turned out just fine in the end. We were allowed to enter the theater at the appointed time and no one else even tried for my choice seat at the top of the theater. Ryan and John et.al. were only a few minutes behind me. They all sat somewhere in the middle, but Ryan came and joined me, which let's remember was the plan all along anyway. John wanted me to join them, but a large part of the appeal of the back row for me is no chance of being stuck in front of a seat kicker. Paying $16 for a 2-1/2-hour movie, I was determined nothing was going to ruin it for me. Not John, not John's friends, and not the stupid lady next to Ryan who couldn't stop fingering her popcorn bag through the entire movie.
Just before the show started, the manager made an announcement asking us to help them out by throwing away our own trash, since the showing following ours was also sold out (10:20, yeesh!) My question is when did it become universally acceptable to be such disgusting pigs that leave our feeding trough remains at our seats? I mean, you pass the trash can on the way out of the theater, people. It's not like you have to cross an obstacle course like that stupid show "Wipeout!" to get to it. Allow me to refer you to my review of WALL-E for the not-so-tongue-in-cheek outcome of the human race if we get much lazier.
Anyway, without further ado, my review of The Dark Knight.
I.....didn't like it as much as I thought I would. I'd blame it on the impossibly insane hype, except that I bought into it completely and was as excited as anyone for the movie. I went into it with no reservations whatsoever, fully prepared for the time of my life.
I'll spare you details of the story itself, that you can read just about anywhere. After getting home and thinking back on it, I tried to pinpoint what was wrong. Because at the time, I FELT like I was enjoying it. But when looking at the movie as a whole, the overall impression I came away with was that it was a narrative mess (I felt mildly vindicated when a Salon.com reviewer used the exact same phrase). Nothing but Batman racing from one calamity to another, always frustratingly one step behind the Joker. I've got nothing at all against a 2-1/2-hour running time; but watching a "climax" approximately every fifteen minutes or so gets very, very wearing after awhile.
The big bank robbery that opens the movie, which I'd already seen in the IMAX trailer, introduced the Joker at level 11 -- and then it seemed like he had very little room to expand from there. Don't get me wrong, Heath's Joker was my favorite part of the movie. Absolutely riveting. Impossible to take your eyes off him. Funny and terrifyingly unpredictable. He lights up the screen like neon. Would I be saying all this if he hadn't died so tragically? Yes. Would the movie be doing nearly as well as it is without this morbid history? Hard to say.
The IMAX was a two-edged sword. I didn't pay any attention to the articles that explained only six scenes were shot in the format, making the rest of the film noticeably cropped. So there was a fair amount of "Wow, that looks....oh, never mind" as it switched back and forth.
The quiet moments were beautiful. When I say "quiet" I don't mean the soft, romantic relationship moments. I mean any scenes that didn't include chases, explosions or shootouts, and the longer the film went on, the more those types of scenes took over. Which perhaps was the point of the film. The Joker is about anarchy, chaos, a complete destruction of the fabric of society and the reduction of the citizens of Gotham to their lowest (and worst) common denominator. So perhaps the escalating violence and relentless action was deliberate, but no less exhausting to watch.
Behind the Joker, I'd have to say the best character was Harvey Dent. I knew he ultimately became a criminal. I was interested to see exactly how, since he starts the movie with such integrity and morality. Unfortunately they don't get to his transformation until extremely late in the game, so he wasn't given nearly enough screen time to develop believably -- another sentiment echoed by the Salon writer. Aaron Eckhart gave it his all, and it showed, but there are only so many frames to work with.
My sister's complaint was that Bale's Batman is too closed off, too inaccessible to evoke any emotion. I agree with this as well. I felt at the end the Joker had to be removed once and for all just so we could remember who the movie was about, he stole the show that completely. Speaking of the end (no spoilers, I swear): I really loved it. Totally unexpected, and if they follow through with a sequel using the premise they set up, that promises to be just as big a must-see.
The best things I read about the movie were in "Entertainment Weekly." Michael Caine said that Superman is how America sees itself. Batman is how the rest of the world sees America (operating outside the law with limitless wealth and questionable morals). The article also drew the obvious parallel to terrorist activity, and the message that President Bush should be careful about challenging terrorists to "bring it on," because they might do just that.
I'm expecting my negative comments to be unpopular. Over at RottenTomatoes.com, any reviewer who dares look cross-eyed at the movie is getting jumped by legions of indignant fanboys, not all with entirely respectful or mature comments. I'm sorry, but I feel what I feel and I can't change that.
I'll be buying the DVD for sure, which is why I didn't insist on waiting out the credits to see what was said about Heath (because I know there had to be something). 3.5 out of 5, could be upped to 4 after a second viewing at home.
~*~
Totally unrelated, today I typed a medical report for Shia Labeouf, seen at Cedars-Sinai after his car accident this weekend. Despite handling many California hospitals, this is the first bona fide celebrity I've had. I knew it had to be THE Shia Labeouf because a.) his birth date matched IMDb, and b.) how many freakin' "Shia Labeoufs" are there? I won't say anything other than that he'll live. Anything more and I could lose my job. You understand. Tery was disappointed there was no mention made of his drinking habits.
About two months ago, as Ryan and I sat in the theater waiting to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, the trailer for The Dark Knight came on and I excitedly asked if he wanted to see it with me (in IMAX, of course). I jokingly asked if 2 months was long enough for him to save his money (he's the consummate pleader of poverty) and we had a date.
As the day loomed closer, suddenly, subtly, Ryan's "I" statements had transformed into "we." John had been invited, which I didn't have a problem with. As much as I can't stand couples who are joined at the hip, I acknowledge that when dealing with couples an unspoken invitation always exists. Fine.
Then I gradually became aware that John was inviting a few friends -- even Ryan wasn't sure exactly how many. John has a lot of friends, evidently. He's like a hip-hop band: He never appears without at least ten people behind him. This really wasn't fine with me. What had started as a fun little night out for Ryan and me was turning into the social event of the year.
Opening weekend. Shows started selling out almost immediately, predictably. We decided to avoid this madness, and instead shoot for the second weekend (I personally would've waited even longer). We bought our tickets online ahead of time, shooting for Monday night, 7 pm. I hoped a weekday night wouldn't be as popular, but I also feared the second weekend would see everyone who went opening weekend flocking to IMAX to experience it again twice as huge.
By Monday morning our show had sold out, and my anxiety skyrocketed. What didn't help was the fact that both Ryan and John took the whole day off from work just to make sure they had time to get there. Which means we COULD have gone at 10:00 in the morning, everything would have been a breeze -- except we already bought our tickets, and of course there was John's entourage that couldn't make it until the evening.
Then Ryan informed me John's nephew was going as well. We both agreed we weren't going to save seats for anyone, that people were responsible for their own, but this didn't do much to relax me. Two hours before the show I was practically hyperventilating with nervousness. And a fair amount of anger towards John for turning such a simple thing into this monstrous logistical nightmare of coordination (even though I refused to participate). I was so miserable I even contemplated walking away from the purchased ticket and no-showing -- which, if you know anything at all about me, is more against my nature than perhaps even murder. Had I not been particularly poor this week, I might have actually gone through with it.
As I sat in rush hour traffic on my way to the theater, Ryan texted me asking me to save seats, they were running late due to picking John's nephew up. Was I supposed to drape my undergarments over the chairs? I refused. I said I'd be in the back row, I'd do my best, but he was really putting me in a difficult position. He agreed and understood and we left it at that.
This was the line that greeted me when I arrived.

My idea to get there at about 5:30 just to be safe suddenly seemed hopelessly naive. The corpulent ticket taker at the bottom of the escalator asked if I knew where I was going. "Ummm, I'm assuming up those stairs into that line?"
"You're smart!" he answered. I moved past him to do just that when he called to me, "Miss! That way." He was pointing at the elevator at what appeared to be the front of the line.
"What? I can jump in front of all these people?" I asked, incredulously.
"Yep," he smirked.
I assumed I got some kind of VIP treatment because I bought my ticket online or something, though I was highly skeptical. I took the escalator up and entered the theater. I was confused because people appeared to be filing out, while others were already in their seats. So what was with that enormous line out front?
I asked the ushers and a woman who appeared to be a manager about it. I said the ticket taker told me to come straight up. "Joe," they said, rolling their eyes. Joe was very wrong -- the seated people were actually STILL seated from the previous showing. The folks on the steps had been there for 3 hours or more. Boy did I feel like an ass. And more than a little mystified as to why "Joe" deemed me so debilitated that I couldn't just climb the stairs like a normal person.
It all turned out just fine in the end. We were allowed to enter the theater at the appointed time and no one else even tried for my choice seat at the top of the theater. Ryan and John et.al. were only a few minutes behind me. They all sat somewhere in the middle, but Ryan came and joined me, which let's remember was the plan all along anyway. John wanted me to join them, but a large part of the appeal of the back row for me is no chance of being stuck in front of a seat kicker. Paying $16 for a 2-1/2-hour movie, I was determined nothing was going to ruin it for me. Not John, not John's friends, and not the stupid lady next to Ryan who couldn't stop fingering her popcorn bag through the entire movie.
Just before the show started, the manager made an announcement asking us to help them out by throwing away our own trash, since the showing following ours was also sold out (10:20, yeesh!) My question is when did it become universally acceptable to be such disgusting pigs that leave our feeding trough remains at our seats? I mean, you pass the trash can on the way out of the theater, people. It's not like you have to cross an obstacle course like that stupid show "Wipeout!" to get to it. Allow me to refer you to my review of WALL-E for the not-so-tongue-in-cheek outcome of the human race if we get much lazier.
Anyway, without further ado, my review of The Dark Knight.
I.....didn't like it as much as I thought I would. I'd blame it on the impossibly insane hype, except that I bought into it completely and was as excited as anyone for the movie. I went into it with no reservations whatsoever, fully prepared for the time of my life.
I'll spare you details of the story itself, that you can read just about anywhere. After getting home and thinking back on it, I tried to pinpoint what was wrong. Because at the time, I FELT like I was enjoying it. But when looking at the movie as a whole, the overall impression I came away with was that it was a narrative mess (I felt mildly vindicated when a Salon.com reviewer used the exact same phrase). Nothing but Batman racing from one calamity to another, always frustratingly one step behind the Joker. I've got nothing at all against a 2-1/2-hour running time; but watching a "climax" approximately every fifteen minutes or so gets very, very wearing after awhile.
The big bank robbery that opens the movie, which I'd already seen in the IMAX trailer, introduced the Joker at level 11 -- and then it seemed like he had very little room to expand from there. Don't get me wrong, Heath's Joker was my favorite part of the movie. Absolutely riveting. Impossible to take your eyes off him. Funny and terrifyingly unpredictable. He lights up the screen like neon. Would I be saying all this if he hadn't died so tragically? Yes. Would the movie be doing nearly as well as it is without this morbid history? Hard to say.
The IMAX was a two-edged sword. I didn't pay any attention to the articles that explained only six scenes were shot in the format, making the rest of the film noticeably cropped. So there was a fair amount of "Wow, that looks....oh, never mind" as it switched back and forth.
The quiet moments were beautiful. When I say "quiet" I don't mean the soft, romantic relationship moments. I mean any scenes that didn't include chases, explosions or shootouts, and the longer the film went on, the more those types of scenes took over. Which perhaps was the point of the film. The Joker is about anarchy, chaos, a complete destruction of the fabric of society and the reduction of the citizens of Gotham to their lowest (and worst) common denominator. So perhaps the escalating violence and relentless action was deliberate, but no less exhausting to watch.
Behind the Joker, I'd have to say the best character was Harvey Dent. I knew he ultimately became a criminal. I was interested to see exactly how, since he starts the movie with such integrity and morality. Unfortunately they don't get to his transformation until extremely late in the game, so he wasn't given nearly enough screen time to develop believably -- another sentiment echoed by the Salon writer. Aaron Eckhart gave it his all, and it showed, but there are only so many frames to work with.
My sister's complaint was that Bale's Batman is too closed off, too inaccessible to evoke any emotion. I agree with this as well. I felt at the end the Joker had to be removed once and for all just so we could remember who the movie was about, he stole the show that completely. Speaking of the end (no spoilers, I swear): I really loved it. Totally unexpected, and if they follow through with a sequel using the premise they set up, that promises to be just as big a must-see.
The best things I read about the movie were in "Entertainment Weekly." Michael Caine said that Superman is how America sees itself. Batman is how the rest of the world sees America (operating outside the law with limitless wealth and questionable morals). The article also drew the obvious parallel to terrorist activity, and the message that President Bush should be careful about challenging terrorists to "bring it on," because they might do just that.
I'm expecting my negative comments to be unpopular. Over at RottenTomatoes.com, any reviewer who dares look cross-eyed at the movie is getting jumped by legions of indignant fanboys, not all with entirely respectful or mature comments. I'm sorry, but I feel what I feel and I can't change that.
I'll be buying the DVD for sure, which is why I didn't insist on waiting out the credits to see what was said about Heath (because I know there had to be something). 3.5 out of 5, could be upped to 4 after a second viewing at home.
~*~
Totally unrelated, today I typed a medical report for Shia Labeouf, seen at Cedars-Sinai after his car accident this weekend. Despite handling many California hospitals, this is the first bona fide celebrity I've had. I knew it had to be THE Shia Labeouf because a.) his birth date matched IMDb, and b.) how many freakin' "Shia Labeoufs" are there? I won't say anything other than that he'll live. Anything more and I could lose my job. You understand. Tery was disappointed there was no mention made of his drinking habits.
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I'm definitely prepared to give it another chance. Maybe not in the theater so much. I think a lot of the action scenes were too dark to really see what was going on. I'm hoping the DVD will be easier to watch. And I can't wait to watch jokerjokerjokerjoker at my leisure : )
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Ooh, I can't wait for the DVD. I'll buy it on blue-ray so I can break into my friend's house and watch it on his huge HD TV.
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If, as
I'm sure the movie will be much better at home when we can skip scenes to our heart's content. Plus there's bound to be some killer extras RE the Joker. I've already seen about a dozen "making the movie" specials.
I wonder if your stories would be as interesting if you weren't so adorably neurotic.
No mention at all was made of Shia Labeouf's drinking habits? Are you telling me (or, you know, NOT TELLING ME) that alcohol wasn't at all involved in that crash? Note that I know nothing about this accident and am too lazy to sort back 500 entries in ONTD.
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I think that might help, and you've hit the nail on the head. How on earth is the audience supposed to gauge how hepped up to be if we can't tell how close we are to the ending?
I immediately watched all the specials I had Tivo'ed for the movie. Most were your typical red carpet movie star pandering affairs (bleah), but one network (A&E, I think?) had one called "The Psychology of Batman" or something like that which was actually really interesting. I hope they stick that one on the DVD.
I'm glad you find it adorable. I'm not particularly proud of the fact that every time I leave the house there has to be all this anxiety involved. I'm pretty sure this is how people who are found eaten by their cats get started.
All I'm telling you is there was no mention in the report of alcohol, which thinking back is kind of strange. Docs don't usually hold back such details when regular people get in DUI accidents. I was actually surprised Shia wasn't admitted under a pseudonym before remembering that medical reports are confidential so (in theory) there would be no need of one.
According to Tery's sources (i.e. the squeeing fangirls she works with), Shia's passengers offered to help him cover up his involvement but he insisted on doing the responsible thing and admitting his mistakes. Awww.
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Would it be more comforting to be the kind of person who is found dead and uneaten next to the corpse of a dog who was too stupid to eat its owner? Trust me, if I wrote out my thoughts every time I went somewhere or talked to someone or, worst of all, made a phone call, you'd realize you're not that bad at all.
According to Tery's sources (i.e. the squeeing fangirls she works with), Shia's passengers offered to help him cover up his involvement but he insisted on doing the responsible thing and admitting his mistakes. Awww.
His decision seems somewhat less noble when you consider how fast this annecdote spread. How long would they actually have been able to cover up his involvement before they ended up spilling the whole story to People?