darkness

I just got back from The Dark Knight not a half hour ago, a movie I had read reviews about, heard great things about, and looked at skyrocketing box office revenues about for the entire summer and fall. I just hadn't seen it yet.

Now that I have, I can finally add my two cents to the billions of dollars worth of commentary about this movie. I should be asleep right now, but I am awake for two reasons. First, because writing is cathartic for me and I'm so freaked out by all the violence and scary clowns in that movie that I doubt I could sleep anyway. Second, I can't wait another minute to tell you how I feel about the darkness that emanated from that film.

Did you notice, those of you who saw the movie long before I did, how dim things seemed to be in Gotham City? The police station was poorly lit and dirty, the majority of things happened at night or when the sun was going down. In fact, the only times there was actually decent light was when Bruce and Alfred were hanging out at the mansion with its huge open windows? I'll bet filming was a nightmare.

And speaking of nightmares, how much violence and death is appropriate for one two-and-a-half hour film? Don't we have enough problems in the world without another movie about terrorism and corruption?

Don't get me wrong. I like depressing movies. Just ask my friends. Somewhere in Time, Gone With the Wind, Roman Holiday — they're all pretty heartbreaking, and yet I watch them quite frequently. My problem with The Dark Knight is there is absolutely no hope, even when the bad guy is dead. I suppose that's reality, but if reality is that bleak, I prefer make-believe any day.

It's probably a good thing I didn't see this movie right after my boyfriend broke up with me and broke my heart, even though we had tickets for it. That would have been a walk in the park.