I do not exist

Andy and I went and saw the latest Batman movie Thursday. I've only seen bits of the first one, and what I saw did not impress me. The second one was seen in the theatre. I thought was remarkably over-hyped, and sadly would have been largely forgettable if not for Heath Ledger's unfortunate death.* I've never warmed to any of the actors in any of the roles - every single one of the major parts, both hero and villain, seemed terribly miss-cast to me.

So, I really wasn't looking forward to either the movie or sitting through 3 hours of wasted time. And I wasn't disappointed- the movie was a waste of my time. Nonsensical and loaded with plot holes (Exactly HOW does punching a compound fracture of a lower vertebrae 'back into place' enable someone to walk again?!) It didn't help that it was so LOUD that speech was distorted. I knew Bane was going to be difficult to understand, but out of the rest the only one I could understand most of the time was Morgan Freeman. It was like listening to a foreign language that I used to know - the cadence and syllables sounded familiar, but I was only occasionally able to pick out and understand the occasional word or phrase.

One high point of the film- I was completely surprised to see Burn Gorman in a role! And he did it well. It was nice.



















*(Ok, so one bit I remember from the second film was the Joker was constantly telling a new story about how he received the scars on his face.

When I self-mutilated (a word that doesn't even begin to capture the damage I was doing to myself) I used to make up stories to tell people whenever he asked me what had happened to my arms- I was in a car wreck; I worked with wild cats; I cleared a lot of brush; etc. Anything but the truth.

About a month ago it occurred to me while I was in the shower - what if the Joker was doing the same thing? What if, all along, he was the one who scarred his own face?)