"The Dark Knight" review . . . sorta.
I dunno, maybe I'm just getting old, but I came away from tonight's bargain-theater showing of "The Dark Knight" in a really freaking disturbed frame of mind . . .
. . . Oh, not disturbed by the movie as such -- though it was a brilliant piece of dark storytelling. The violence and destruction are fully justified in relation to the story being told, and a certain shock value is necessary to make the various moral points have their visceral strength. FWIW, I can't recommend the movie enough. In fact, I can't wait to rent it and see it again, if only for the fact that the bargain theater's sound system was so crappy and blurry that lots of dialogue fell by the wayside (especially that which was backed by big, dramatic music) -- and it was *good* dialogue, so I want to hear all of it. *Sighs, has a moment of silence for Heath Ledger, and the loss of brilliant talent to unhappy mischance*
No, the thing that disturbed me had to do with the audience. Most were college students, no surprise, and I was heartened to see that the audience was at least 50% female. But sitting next to me was a family. Dad in his forties, two late-teen daughters (or teen daughter and teen friend, that wasn't exactly clear) . . . and little sister, who was eight if she was a day.
I mean, wtF, people! Didn't they bother to look at the rating? Hello, PG-13? Did they check out any parental guidance material, such as this page provided by IMDB? Let me quote: "It's quite a dark film not recommended for children under eleven maybe even twelve depending on their vulnerability."
Although that probably wouldn't have mattered. Even when it became abundantly clear what kind of movie it was going to be (not exactly Adam West time), it didn't seem to bother anyone at all . . . least of all little sister. She sat there the whole time, one empty seat away from me, sucking noisily and happily on a large lollipop (cliche as it might be, she really was doing that), and thus constantly reminding me that a small child was sitting there watching what I was watching.
She did have to leave to make a bathroom run towards the end (and mercifully, IMO, missed a really quite unpleasant sequence) . . . saying a polite "excuse me" and "thank you" as she squeezed past me in either direction, like a very well-brought up little girl.
At the end of the movie, she seemed happy and chipper. As the family stood to put on their coats, older sis (or older sis's friend) patted the little girl on her head and said, "Wasn't that a fun movie?"
I was such a squicked-out, freaked-out mess, especially after overhearing that, I had a hard time getting my sweater back on the right way 'round before I bolted.
I don't know, maybe I'm just getting too fucking old. I mean, I've always been against censorship, and I think little kids shouldn't be overprotected intellectually, nor should they be given an inappropriately happy view of how the Universe works. I'm very grateful at how open my parents were about such stuff. For example, I got to see "Blade Runner" when it came out in the theater at age eleven (or 12, I don't remember exactly where it fell in relation to my birthday). My mom took me to see it. It was . . . pretty damn intense at that age, but I also liked it, and wasn't scarred (that I can tell, anyway). But eleven/twelve is really quite a long ways away from eight years old, and I'd peg "The Dark Knight" as by far the more violent of the two films.
What the hell has happened to the concept of "age-appropriate"? Our culture screams about "protecting our children," and yet more and more children are exposed to worse and worse stuff, often with the collaboration of their parents (not to mention the US's bizarre perception that death and violence are somehow "clean" and family-friendly).
I've said many times that I don't want to be a parent, so maybe I don't have any cause to talk . . . but am I wrong to be bothered by what I saw tonight?
Am I just turning into some hopeless fuddy-duddy? Getting too squeamish as 40 years of age starts knocking at the door? Or what?
Shit, I don't know. What I do know is that I blew the rest of my $10 (the movie was $6) on some booze, which I am drinking now, and I will continue to drink while I test out Christmas cookie recipes and try to regain some equilibrium.
Dame Ruth, logging out for now. And really, "The Dark Knight" is a kickass movie, and it's totally not the moviemakers' fault that parents think it's a Disney flick.
. . . Oh, not disturbed by the movie as such -- though it was a brilliant piece of dark storytelling. The violence and destruction are fully justified in relation to the story being told, and a certain shock value is necessary to make the various moral points have their visceral strength. FWIW, I can't recommend the movie enough. In fact, I can't wait to rent it and see it again, if only for the fact that the bargain theater's sound system was so crappy and blurry that lots of dialogue fell by the wayside (especially that which was backed by big, dramatic music) -- and it was *good* dialogue, so I want to hear all of it. *Sighs, has a moment of silence for Heath Ledger, and the loss of brilliant talent to unhappy mischance*
No, the thing that disturbed me had to do with the audience. Most were college students, no surprise, and I was heartened to see that the audience was at least 50% female. But sitting next to me was a family. Dad in his forties, two late-teen daughters (or teen daughter and teen friend, that wasn't exactly clear) . . . and little sister, who was eight if she was a day.
I mean, wtF, people! Didn't they bother to look at the rating? Hello, PG-13? Did they check out any parental guidance material, such as this page provided by IMDB? Let me quote: "It's quite a dark film not recommended for children under eleven maybe even twelve depending on their vulnerability."
Although that probably wouldn't have mattered. Even when it became abundantly clear what kind of movie it was going to be (not exactly Adam West time), it didn't seem to bother anyone at all . . . least of all little sister. She sat there the whole time, one empty seat away from me, sucking noisily and happily on a large lollipop (cliche as it might be, she really was doing that), and thus constantly reminding me that a small child was sitting there watching what I was watching.
She did have to leave to make a bathroom run towards the end (and mercifully, IMO, missed a really quite unpleasant sequence) . . . saying a polite "excuse me" and "thank you" as she squeezed past me in either direction, like a very well-brought up little girl.
At the end of the movie, she seemed happy and chipper. As the family stood to put on their coats, older sis (or older sis's friend) patted the little girl on her head and said, "Wasn't that a fun movie?"
I was such a squicked-out, freaked-out mess, especially after overhearing that, I had a hard time getting my sweater back on the right way 'round before I bolted.
I don't know, maybe I'm just getting too fucking old. I mean, I've always been against censorship, and I think little kids shouldn't be overprotected intellectually, nor should they be given an inappropriately happy view of how the Universe works. I'm very grateful at how open my parents were about such stuff. For example, I got to see "Blade Runner" when it came out in the theater at age eleven (or 12, I don't remember exactly where it fell in relation to my birthday). My mom took me to see it. It was . . . pretty damn intense at that age, but I also liked it, and wasn't scarred (that I can tell, anyway). But eleven/twelve is really quite a long ways away from eight years old, and I'd peg "The Dark Knight" as by far the more violent of the two films.
What the hell has happened to the concept of "age-appropriate"? Our culture screams about "protecting our children," and yet more and more children are exposed to worse and worse stuff, often with the collaboration of their parents (not to mention the US's bizarre perception that death and violence are somehow "clean" and family-friendly).
I've said many times that I don't want to be a parent, so maybe I don't have any cause to talk . . . but am I wrong to be bothered by what I saw tonight?
Am I just turning into some hopeless fuddy-duddy? Getting too squeamish as 40 years of age starts knocking at the door? Or what?
Shit, I don't know. What I do know is that I blew the rest of my $10 (the movie was $6) on some booze, which I am drinking now, and I will continue to drink while I test out Christmas cookie recipes and try to regain some equilibrium.
Dame Ruth, logging out for now. And really, "The Dark Knight" is a kickass movie, and it's totally not the moviemakers' fault that parents think it's a Disney flick.