I am highlighting this essay (which contains spoilers), originally published in May 2012, for the Anniversary Archive series. Comments, sharing, bookmarks, and recommendations are welcome on the original piece, also linked after the intro.
In case you missed it, yesterday's entry was a review of "The Long Goodbye". Also last night I posted my latest round-up of #WatchlistScreenCaps.
Four years ago, when this blog was in its infancy, I offered no less than four pieces touching on The Dark Knight. I was fascinated by the cultural phenomenon it represented, so rare these days. (I don't think even Avatar transcended the cinematic ghetto to the same extent; probably no other film since Titanic has, unless you discount the subsequent disappointment and include The Phantom Menace for its anticipatory buildup.) But I was also compelled by the film itself, which proved a sort of golden exception to my 00s blockbuster aversion. Aesthetically, The Dark Knight shared many of the flaws that turn me off from contemporary popcorn movies (which often seem to be either ashamed of the taste of popcorn or overly enamored of synthetic CGI butter). It took itself and its themes rather seriously; it preferred a muddy, gritty look to visual clarity and beauty; it seemed determined to make a comic-book world "realistic." Yet, in spite of these potential drawbacks, I was fascinated by the tragic, tightly divergent world it drew, as well as by the iconic performance of Heath Ledger as Joker. Even though I did not care for Batman Begins, I was converted to the Nolan Dark Knight camp, and eagerly awaited the next entry in the series. And here it is, cloaked in death like the first movie (following, rather than spurring the hype this time) - and thus assured of notoriety, however undesired by its creators.