Ant-Man (2015)

Marvel’s other big 15 summer flick “The Avengers: Age of Ultron” was so dense with heroes and villains, watching it near required a flow chart even for a die-hard geek such as myself. So Marvel goes literally small with “Ant-Man,” the latest hero to hit the screen. 

Paul Rudd is Scott Lang, a Robin Hood ex-con recruited to take on the heroic identity of Ant-Man –- a hero who can shrink to the size of an ant, retain incredible strength, and control insects –- by a genius inventor/scientist (Michael Douglas) who once wore the suit. 

Aged out, Douglas’ Hank Pym (the same character also is The Beast in the X-Men films) needs Rudd’s Lang to steal vital tech from a greedy CEO (Corey Stoll) up to no good. That’s it. Not a city is destroyed. Just a building. And a house. 

And I’m thankful for that. The epic destruction climaxes can get tiring. And, thankfully, tongues are in cheek for much of the running time.A climatic fight involves a Thomas the Tank Engine being thrown about. From the eyes of a child, it’s a tiny toy falling off a track. To our hero, it’s a devastating near-death encounter. That scene kicks. 

Now the magnifying glass. Director Peyton Red infamously picked up the lead reins from geek-favorite Edgar Wright (“Shaun of the Dead”) after the latter quit, squashed by Marvel Corp. meddling. 

The cracks show. That Thomas daft bit is pure Wright. But when the main story stops hard to intro an Avengers sidebar, the movie flops. Anthony Mackie’s Falcon appears, Chris Evans’ Captain America gets name dropped. The whole plot of “Avengers 2” is discussed in a conversation so awkward Douglas squirms. He has no idea what he is mouthing off. 

Look, I dig Marvel, I love Marvel, and it wants a tie-in universe seamless and pure, and I want what Marvel wants. Just like the comic books where stories such as “Secret Wars” crossed a dozen or so titles. I get it. 

But, left alone and given free will, Wright’s movie may have been the biggest blast of Marvel fresh air since “Guardians of the Galaxy.” Wild daft fun; us not knowing what the hell might happen, or who might say what. That movie felt like a daring gamble.

This is flat boring, not a bet. Not a single surprise moment, Thomas engine aside. When hero Ant-Man can’t stop talking about how much he loves his little princess girl, who the hell is the bad guy going to go after? This is a screenplay beaten into submission. By committee. 

It doesn’t help that Stoll’s villain, who becomes the menacing Yellow Jacket, with the similar powers to Ant-Man, never once registers. He’s psycho from minute one, a barking madman who hardly seems capable of running a treadmill, much less a massive company. And how ever did he become a super villain? Where did he train? How? 

Enough bitching, what does work here is Rudd’s solid performance. He’s likable. He’s funny. But he looks like he can handle himself in a fight. Douglas is spry as well. He throws a punch. It looks good. 

Also –- and I hate to go happy on special effects when story suffers so -- but the shots of Ant-Man tiny against backgrounds that are macrophotography blown out is crazy fun. That Thomas train, or Ant-Man using a Lifesaver to save his life. (And young Michael Douglas is epic!) Reed and his VFX team knock it out of the ballpark. 

Kudos to the computer geeks and camera crews. But no matter how good the art was in the thousands of comic books I collected and read, the stories kept bringing back. And this story has nothing to sell. B-

Birdman (2014)

When we first see Michael Keaton as a has-been Hollywood actor at the opening of tar-black fable “Birdman,” he is floating in midair as the intimidating voice of his once big-screen superhero alter ego -– see the title -– talks aloud inside his own head. That’s the start of this wondrously warped story. Yes, Keaton, who played comic book hero Batman, plays an actor who played comic book hero Birdman. Meta comedy is promised and delivered. Plot: Keaton’s Riggan Thomas is determined to reset his relevance by staging a Broadway play. The impossible task consumes Riggan: His lead actor is a prickish actor played by infamously prickish actor Edward Norton, and Riggan’s daughter (Emma Stone) teeters on drug relapse. Stone, of course, plays Spider-Man’s girlfriend. Spider-Man appears as a mocking taunt. Brilliant. Questions pop: Mainly, Will Riggan escape Birdman? Director Alejandro G. Inarritu serves a must-rewatch film about a man more scared of obscurity than death and a damning of the Marvel Movie Universe ruling cinemas and then flames his own film as Marvel-like action plays out. More than the art-house deep-thoughts comedy, this strange film is pure wicked fun to watch unspool. A

Thor: The Dark World (2013)

Marvel superhero flick “Thor: The Dark World” picks up where 2012’s “Avengers” left off: New York in ruin and villain/god/jealous brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) facing prison, with hero/god/older brother/ GQ heartthrob Thor (Chris Hensworth) brooding like never before. And of all his powers, Thor broods best. But brooding does not a comic book yarn make, and so arrive the Dark Elves, alien villains set on snuffing the light on all life. Back on Earth, Thor gal pal/scientist Jane (Natalie Portman) finds some red E.T.-floating goo that the Dark Elves need to do their Rule the Universe thing. She gets infected. Of course. The Dark Elves want her ass. Thor gets angry. Set action and play. Cue post-credits hint to next Marvel film. Nothing is wrong with “Dark World.” Yet nothing hits. The Dark Elves are murky dull. It’s all clockwork down to the “shock” ender that means “Thor 3.” Wait. Can I have “Loki: Ruler of All” instead? Hiddleston’s twisted sicko is infinitely more fascinating than Hemsworth as Thor. No offense to Mr. Hemsworth, so good in “Rush.” But Marvel would do well to tip the truth: Loki is the best thing going in its massive franchise. Put him center, please. B-

The Wolverine (2013)

Does a bear shit in the woods? What about a Wolverine? 

In the opening minutes of “The Wolverine” -- the latest cinematic chapter of the X-Men mutant superhero saga -- we see the former, but thankfully never the latter as our fast-healing, metal-clawed, highly disgruntled hero Logan (Hugh Jackman) has taken to living in a remote Canadian cave to escape humanity. (OK, it’s a piss, not a shit, but damn the details. And if you don’t know who Wolverine is, just stop reading. I can’t help you.) This miserable life follows the unfortunate events of the unfortunate “X-Men: Last Stand” that left power-crazed Jean Grey dead by Wolverine’s claws. 

He killed her to save himself and the world, because that always happens in comic books. Yet, her ghost (Famke Janssen, also returning) appears in Wolverine’s dreams, her dressed in lingerie and in his bed as never happens in comic books. But this is the movie, and she’s not the only specter haunting Logan, whose only friend is now that bear. (Let the snickering begin.) Wolverine’s long past a century old, his genetically-mutated-at-birth healing powers keeping him eternally alive and at middle age. He has seen so much horror, death, and pain, his every moment is clouded by anger, ghosts and lost voices. 

Among the dark memories: His saving of a young Japanese prison guard as Nagasaki is obliterated by an American atomic bomb on 9 August 1945. That scene opens the film. The guard has since grown to become an old, dying billionaire owner of a tech company and he has plans for Logan: Mainly taking that eternal healing power for himself, allowing the Wolverine to finally die, and rest in longed for peace. And Logan indeed see his powers seeped away courtesy a villainous mutant known as the Viper (Svetlana Khodchenkova), a literal snake-like woman who excretes maddening and deadly poison. 

A now vulnerable Logan soon finds himself inside a ticking bomb Japanese samurai/gangster drama that touches government powers and includes the old guy’s 20-something granddaughter, Mariko (Tao Okamoto), who is the target of assassins, family jealousies, and dull acting. 

A wounded, bleeding, off-his-game Logan and the woman go on the run and on the train, to Nagasaki and beyond, all leading to a climax atop a high-tech castle that recalls at once samurai classic drama “Ran” and also – head desk slam -- every other freakin’ superhero movie made, most especially a metal man/monster right out of a certain Robert Downey Jr,. franchise starter. (Mimicry is, what, flattering?)

Comic book geeks such as myself -- weaned in the 1980s and on the high-mark of Wolverine’s Japanese origin stories, with him taking on black-clad ninjas in a snowy mountain village, no noise but the slicing of bodies and clanging of sword on claws in the cold snow -– have long looked forward to the story of Logan told on film. To the saga of Wolverine, it’s as important as Krypton to Superman. 

The 2009 “Origins” Wolverine prequel was a bust on every level, as we were robbed of this story that fired our imagination and made us feel like we were watching a forbidden film of grisly violence. So, this sequel provides a double-edged sword as we do –- finally! -– get to see that very story told. 

But –- head desk slam part two -– the showdown is dispatched in such a quick a flash, I felt gutted. Director James Mangold and his writers (Scott Frank and Mark Bomback, plus an uncredited script doctor Christopher McQuarrie, and Lord knows who else) already were pushing the PG-13 line with blood. Was this too far? Whatever the case, it disappoints. 

Yes, I’m on a fan boy nitpick. Screw my geeky expectations, right? OK. 

The film’s a mess in myriad ways leading to these final battles, from the listless romance between Logan and Mariko -- half the age of Jackman, and likely a tenth of Logan’s age, to the absolutely blank spot of villainy. We are served betrayals that fizzle, a big reveal that could only shock a comatose child, and as the main threat -– Viper, the snake woman with layers of skin –- a vapid actress unqualified to sneer candy from the grip of a baby. The film dies, I kid not, when Khodchenkova opens her mouth. (Language issue?) But she is not all to blame. It’s not just miscasting, the character of Viper has no motive, no purpose, she’s just there. She’s an afterthought in tight, ridiculously revealing outfits.

Maybe that’s enough for some filmmakers. (Mangold put Cameron Diaz through the clothes trials in “Knight and Day,” for sure.)

As Logan faces down enemies we don’t fear, fights for loves we don’t care about, and sees his powers restored -– naturally -– before any true pain hits, the razor sharp potential of this film is made soup spoon dull. I could not do better. But I expected better. Darren Aronofsky –- he made “Black Swan” and “Requiem for a Dream” –- was slated to direct this, and I marvel inside my own head at the film he could have made, talking Logan to the darkest reaches of a mind we see only hinted here. And putting buckets of blood on that snow. 

(The man cited family as a reason to not do the flick. Me, I think he wanted an “R” film, the studio tossed him aside. Such a rating would poison the box office. Bullshit logic. The movie opened soft anyway.) 

“Wolverine” is not terrible. Jackman is amazing, not just his bulked-out size, but the energy he brings to Logan. “X-Men” back in 2000 made the guy star, but he has stayed loyal to this character. Name another actor who has that dedication? If the film had his energy, it would be epic. But it’s only minor. Another scratch added to the list of disposable comic book movies that clog screens, not fill imaginations.

Stay for the end credits, a small teaser to the next “X-Men” film as two older gentlemen from the franchise take a defibrillator to this flick. Zap! The “ehh” audience I sat with got a jolt. I did. You will. Funny how I turn on myself, I’m growing tired of the genre, but bring on the next one, please. 

A question and from the first scene: How does Wolverine get taken prisoner in war to begin with, to set up this story? No answer there. B-

Iron Man 3 (2013)

SPOILERS ABOUND because I cannot do the out-of-left-field “Iron Man 3” justice without spilling its secrets like the myriad flying, not-quite-controllable bits of Iron Man armor that plague our hero Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) in this first-post-“Avengers” Marvel film. Nor can I stick to my 200-word count. (I really, really, truly tried.)

Upfront: Director/cowriter Shane Black steers this sequel to a sequel toward the “Lethal Weapon” thrillers that made him famous as a writer. Genius move. He finds every excuse to get Stark out of the tin suit and load him with MacGyver-like weapons, running alongside Don Cheadle as military man Jim Rhodes, to attack the villain’s glitzy Miami chateau and then go after a cargo pier at the finale. The ghosts of Riggs and Murtaugh hover close, as does Black’s directorial debut “Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang,” which starred Downey post-rehab/ prison/near-career-death. 

We only think mastermind terrorist named Mandarin (Ben Kingsely), one of Marvel’s most infamously racist creations, is the villain. Trusting the marketing and trailers. In truth, the dude’s a two-bit actor downed by drugs, working for a sun-tanned rich guy (Guy Pearce) who Tony once did wrong. 

The characters are metas, off-screen and on, Kingley’s loser the What if Downey?, while Pearce’s evil CEO is the What If Tony Stark? If neither had not “become” Iron Man. The stunt also takes the character down a peg, what can Marvel do? Complain their anti-Chinese boogeyman 1-D stick figure was not played accurate? 

The movie -– like the clap-trap maze of cranes at that finale -– is a Rube Goldberg machine of asides and homages, including 1980s “child sidekick” flicks, peppered with kick-ass action and a full tear-down of the franchise. Indeed this ends with Downey throwing the ball at Marvel and saying, “You’re move.” Cast iron balls he has. 

The plot is a wiry mess, and Pearce’s scientist lacks motive and focus. Never mind Rebecca Hall as another scientist with a quarter personality, and less screen time. These are moot complaints for all eyes are on Downey. He is Iron Man. Lest we, or Marvel, ever forget. B+

Fantastic Four (2005)

“Fantastic Four” is a sucker punch to the face and heart of every true four-color-ink-for-blood comic book geek who knew growing up that the exploits of Mr. Fantastic, Invisible Woman, Human Torch, and the Thing, was the coolest monthly read: A blood-and-marriage family of super-powered heroes with screw-loose hang-ups and arch-enemies. At least the plot follows the book. Five astronaut-types are blasted with cosmic rays while on a science mission, each person spouting outsize powers close fit to their personality: The ability to contort one’s body into any shape, invisibility, control of fire, and a moving, raging man of stone. The fifth wheel is the billionaire boss Victor Von Doom, destined to go evil with a name like that, except he turns into a metallic maniac, not a giant shitting asshole. Here’s a movie with 50 years of comic history as resource and director Tim Story (“Taxi”) kills it from the start. Bland, listless, with no sense of wonder, horror, or the fantastic. The cast is dull with Ioan Gruffudd as Mr. Fantastic and Julian McMahon as Dr. Doom. Questions linger: Would I notice had they switched roles midway through? Not likely. C-

Chronicle (2012)

Faux found-footage films are dead dull thanks to the “Paranormal Activity” quadrilogy. The low-budget “Chronicle” seeks to break the rut, and for the most-part, excels smashingly. Much is smashed in this 90-minute thriller after three high school boys stumble upon a cavern and quite foolishly (as teen boys are prone to do) touch a glowing, pulsing … something. Meteor? We don’t know, but the object gives the trio telekinetic powers. In sci-fi lore, newly powered teens must fight crime. Not here. They turn merry pranksters and play football 13,000 feet up. Then one of three -- bullied, beaten, and angry Andrew (Dane DeHaan of “Lawless”) -- goes mad and his rampage in downtown Seattle is so thrillingly of-the-moment TV news “real,” the sight is horrifying and exhilarating, thanks to director Josh Trank. But the teenage oh-so-exact shot “footage” and the constant meta-raised-eyebrows from the other characters halts the momentum, and I think, get on with the story. Stop the gimmick. That said, Track’s thriller near blows the superhero genre out of the water with a fraction of an “Amazing Spider-Man” budget. B+

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011)

Director Guy Ritchie’s 2009 “Sherlock Holmes,” with Yank actor Robert Downey Jr. playing the Brit detective, was an entertaining farce that tripped too far into the superhero arena. The Ritchie-directed sequel “Game of Shadows” gallops full force into silly Hollywood cliches with “top this” action pieces minced into slow-mo chunks of film that may irritate even the most Ritalin-deprived viewer. A third-act chase through a forest sticks out as the sorest thumb, smashed by Ritchie’s antic edits. Ditch the deerstalker hat and get this Sherlock a cape as Holmes’ pipe, careful contemplations, and witty word play are for the most part dumped in lieu of a 007-worthy plot involving arch-nemesis Moriarty (a ho-hum Jared Harris) as the instigator of a 1890s European war that plays out too broadly and with inane clues (to the winery!) that reek weak. Worse, great actress Noomi Rapace (the Swedish “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” and “Prometheus”) is stuck glaring in silence as Downey along with Jude Law as Watson ham up literature’s oldest bro-mance, making this outing shrivel under the shadow of greater Holmes adaptations, including the stellar BBC modern-day-set mind-fuck “Sherlock.” C

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

A lifelong obsessive acolyte of Spider-Man, even I know the world has no need for another origin tale of Marvel’s web-slinger, 11 years after Sam Raimi’s “Spider-Man” hit theaters and five years since “Spider-Man 3” spun box office platinum but pleased no one. Yet, here crawls “The Amazing Spider-Man,” with director Mark Webb (“500 Days of Summer”) and star Andrew Garfield (“Social Network”) giving us the same story beat for beat. High school nerd-slash-orphan. Sci-fi spider bite. Responsibility lecture. Uncle Ben shot. A scientist/mentor mishap, and a super villain born. Big fight. Cue “SEQUEL!” green flag. Oh, green. Rather than the Green Goblin, we have the monstrous green Lizard, played by Rhys Ifans as a human and ugly CGI as a “garh!” freak. Garfield clearly loves the character in and out of the Spidey duds. Yet, the writers make Peter a literal “Footloose” skater boy, and short-shift Spider-Man’s many powers, trying to make the story … grittier? Realistic? Eh. Even with a new cast and better special effects than in 2002, this Marvel fan is unAmazed. I love seeing Spider-Man in a movie, but this franchise needed to swing forward, not backward. B-

The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

“The Dark Knight Rises” is the third and clear final installment of Christopher Nolan’s definitive, genre-defining trilogy of Batman films. It is pure topsy-turvy genius Nolan, an epic urban-war film and rule-bending comic book movie that wraps around and fits like snug fingers into “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” so exactly, it feels as if we have just witnessed the ultimate story arc of a super hero’s life, unlike ever before. No fat. No lose ends. Near perfect. The balance, themes, visuals, and characters expertly played. 

In the first film, a doomed father asks his son, “Why do we learn to fall down?” And the boy, now the Batman, is still answering that question, that we are even still pondering that question is worthy of story-writing accolades. Nolan and his co-writer brother Jonathan have again raised the bar, not just on the super hero film genre, but the entire idea of the summer movie tent pole. I’m looking at you, every Michael Bay film ever made, or even the stellar, popcorn fun (but, in hindsight, flat as a flapjack) “Avengers.” 

Case in point, name another summer flick that tips its hat and quotes from “A Tale of Two Cities.” This does, liberally. Average film fan: Clueless. Nolan: All the happier devil.

The amazing kicker of this finale: Nolan’s best hat-trick of the ultra-dark film franchise, a “Prestige,” if you will, is to introduce a new hero rising from tragedy, pain, and lost trust in leadership. Not evil mass death of the Joker, nor the vigilante violence that haunted Bruce Wayne as Batman. But honest, cautious goodness. Let the fan fiction begin. The final image, before Nolan’s trademark “black screen” sign off, is a literal “Dark Knight Rises.” I saw it coming, months back, sort of. But Nolan defies the script I wrote in my head.

If you have not seen this film, then stop, SPOLIERS abound. And, really, 10 days?

“Rises” opens eight years after the events that closed out “Dark Knight,” with Harvey “Two-Face” Dent (Aaron Eckhart) killed after a deadly rampage that also almost killed the son of Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman). Batman (Christian Bale) remains hated and hunted, taking the millstone of Dent’s sins onto himself. Tones of Christ, anyone?

The Dark Knight’s thinking: Give Gotham (New York, naturally) the hero he thinks it “deserves,” whatever that means, the Boy Scout White Knight that Dent was before he crossed paths with the Joker. As for the Clown Prince, he receives no mention here, with Heath Ledger’s death already hanging over the franchise like a heavy fog. Nolan didn’t want to bring up more scar tissue, so to speak. In the end, it is a smart move.

Back to this drama: Gotham is enjoying an unprecedented drop in crime thanks to a hardcore, no appeal law for criminals handed down in the name of Dent, and the Batman remains vanished. Bruce Wayne also is in hiding, rumored to be crazy or disfigured, similar to Howard Hughes -– an in-joke as Nolan once tried to make a biopic of Hughes before Martin Scorsese beat him to the punch. (Anyone still want to see that movie? I do.)

This is just the start of “Dark Knight,” and we have much to go. A hulking, massive brute of a terrorist named Bane (Tom Hardy) is living in the underground of Gotham’s water system, planning an all-out war on the city, with a purpose that strikes close to Occupy Wall Street: Take down the rich establishment, share it all, and destroy the infrastructure. 

(Yes, the film cuts deep into the left, but know that the city’s corrupt law-and-order-at-all-costs tactics, and blatant lying about peace and stripping of Civil Rights mirrors the right-wing’s mantra, including the great lie that this nation was founded on some Christian value. Never generations of racism or the murder of countless Native Americans.) 

Yet, Bane has more in plan, fully indifferent to politics. It all goes back to the first film. Nolan has followed Peter Jackson with his  “LOTR”  Trilogy, and Lucas with his own trilogy. You know the name. It is all that rock solid. (Let me say it here, this film meets our impossible expectations of the trilogy's closing, not excel, but meets. That alone is worthy of endless praise.) Consider the opposite: “The Matrix” trilogy. 

I digress. Mr. Wayne, still heartbroken over the death of Rachel Dawes, injured more in mind than body, is flummoxed by a new woman. She is Selina Kyle (Ann Hathaway), a jewel thief who breaks into Wayne’s personal safe when the manor is full of guests. She discombobulates the man, leaving him first flat on his face, then as the film progress, unable to finish sentences and struck silent. (The film is immensely dark, but also quite funny.) Kyle intrigues Wayne, and is the catalyst to bring him, both of him, out into the light. Indeed, Wayne dons the Batman suit again, but only for short chunks of time. 

This trilogy always has been about Bruce Wayne –- the rich playboy -- as the disguise, after all. The rubber suit, by now, is irrelevant. A tool. The suit, though, must come out because after a stunning set of scenes -- the film is 2 hours 45 minutes, but flies by -- has Bain and his henchmen leading a hands-on assault on Wall Street, and later ups the ante with a full-on attack of the city, centered on a football stadium, but spanning outward to include bridges and various infrastructure. Batman, sure as hell, is needed again.

The finale takes place on the streets and air of Gotham, and again has echoes of “Begins” and “Dark Knight” in certain punches, crashes, and other beats of action cinema. It’s a pulverizing film that had me thinking of 1970s Cold War paranoia films, “The Siege,” or a classic Tom Clancy novel, more than anything found in the libraries of D.C. Comics, and also of 9/11, and terrorism in our day and time. Nolan is going big here, not looking back.

Again, Nolan takes Batman out of the film for well more than half its running time. I’ll hold off on why. If you have seen it, you know why, if you have read the comic books, you know why. It’s a daring step that would make the folks behind “Avengers” or “Iron Man” quake: A superhero with an MIA superhero. Here, it perfectly fits in with what we were told in “Begins,” this is all Bruce, Batman can be anyone, the man behind the mask is irrelevant. The move also takes Batman down several pegs, a fallen boy in an old well.

Back to Gotham where a lone, hotheaded policeman (Joseph Gordon-Levitt of the Nolan-directed “Inception,” which also had Hardy in it) becomes not just the right-hand-man of a sidelined Gordon, but a stand-in for the Dark Knight. Nolan shifts his film to this man, John Blake, also an orphan, as if it were an Olympic relay race. He is the man, the Dark Knight, who Rises in the end, wary of violence, iron-strong structures and also anarchy, and we presume will take on the mask. That his story plays out much like a police thriller (as did “Dark Knight”) is another way Nolan defies expectations. Gordon-Levitt rocks the role.

As with “Prometheus,” the other surprisingly great, against-the-grain summer film, there are errors along the way, mostly the Wall Street attack and its immediate aftermath, which seems to go from day to dusk to darkest night in far too short a frame period, and a questionable gap in how long the Batman remains sidelined, is it the full three months, or five? I’m still uncertain at this point. All are forgiven, easily. One more crack follows.

What is certain: This film, is a huge, bloody marvel (I know, D.C.), but it does not have the drive of Ledger’s Joker sending electric shocks out into the audience. How could it ever have equaled? Ledger’s performance remains legendary, and could never be topped. The scarily muscular Hardy –- a great actor, catch him in “Bronson” -– is playing such a different sort of evil menace, that comparisons are unfair, and irrelevant. (Had Ledger lived, had the Joker returned, would the story be repetitive? Would Bane be here?) 

Bane wears a “Mad Max”-type gas mask that obscures most of his face, and the effect is purposefully off-putting, almost fully repugnant. So we must watch his eyes, blazing with anger and power, and study his body language, how when he lays his hand gently on a man’s shoulder and brings him –- powerful as he is –- down in a second, by sheer intimidation. 

Hardy's chosen voice will remain controversial forever, tones of Darth Vader, mixed with that of an early James Bond villain, many words inaudible. It’s all crazily over-the-top theatrical, but as Liam Neeson’s Ra’s al Ghul taught Wayne in the first installment, that’s how you intimidate. Nolan is playing by the rules off screen that he lays out on screen. (Amazing how many people miss that. And, yes, Neeson appears here, but not how I expected. ) 

The film has a legion of detractors, those who hate how Nolan has mangled and morphed the Batman history and legend, to his own will, and his (undeniable) epic arc, but, again, as with “Inception,” people cannot stop talking about this movie. That’s power, for Nolan, as Ra’s al Ghul would indicate. (And that is art, too.)  

Let’s not forget just how good Bale is here, how permanently hurt and old he appears. As in the first film, Nolan and company are not afraid to show a hero making mistakes and truly getting in over his head. Case in point, despite his mantra to “fight harder,” look at the shock on Bale as Batman’s face, when he first fights Bane. It’s one for the books. Not a heroic rebel yell, but a look of sheer, absolute, “Oh, shit,” fear. Somehow fans hate that. Why? It is real.

Now, that penultimate scene, with Alfred in the Italian café, looking up, to see his life’s hope. I wish it were the very final image, not the Rising scene, and I wish Nolan didn’t show what Alfred sees, instead leaving us hanging and spinning like Cobb’s top. Cain staring out from the screen. Cut to black. Seeing those faces confirmed, it kills the drama before it. At the last moment, an over-reach that drives me mad. Debate onward...

I already have burned through too many words here, and I still have yet addressed the women of this trilogy, and the way Hathaway as “Catwoman” (the name is never mentioned, thank the film gods) turns not just Batman’s brain upside down. Nor have I touched on Wally Pfister’s endlessly fascinating cinematography, never better than the scenes where Batman fights Bain in the low, dark sewers. Hans Zimmer’s score thunders as if he were scoring a deadly serious take on “Clash of Titans,” or another story of gods at war. Every technical mark is just struck dead-on target, besting all before it. (O.K., wait, nothing beats Ledger’s  tractor trailer crash in downtown Chicago.)

“Rises” has that much going on. That many plates. Nolan barely drops a fork. I’m writing this and thinking of a third trip back to the Batcave. To discover more that I missed, re-watch the finale. That’s what movies are all about, are they not? If only that one tiny scene had been cut short, leaving us wide open, rising, in mystery, shock, wonder, and in applause. That's what I wanted. It is the sole reason -- OK< no, I still hate that time jump Wall Street attach to pieces, bad move all around -- this doesn't get a solid “A” score. A-

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012)

It all leads up to this, “The Avengers.” Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, assembled in one massive movie, based on the must-read comic book that tied together the vast Marvel Universe like the quickest game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, month after month for decades. And still going strong, print-wise. Cinema-wise, after “Iron Man” 1 and 2, two “Hulk” movies (one in 2003 now disowned, the other in 2008 grudgingly accepted), “Thor” and “Captain America,” we now have the comic book movie of the year. 

Sorry, “Dark Knight Rises.” (For now.)

The Avengers is an unlikely team of super heroes: Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk, Hawkeye and Black Widow, joined by SHIELD Agent Nick Fury in one massive film. (Classic B-side comic book characters such as Ant-Man and Wasp must wait for a sequel I guess.) The plot follows the book’s lead: The team fights intergalactic threats, a power-mad super villain, and/or more likely each other or another Marvel hero, Iron Man vs. Thor, Wolverine vs. Hulk, or everyone vs. Hulk. Those later fights were more exciting than any run-of-the-mill story of hero against villain, on the page. Who to root for? 

Does the “Avengers” movie live up to the years of hype? Never could. I dreamed about this movie all the childhood, and it’s a work of pop-art summer flick beauty for a boy who got himself happily lost inside three-color panels and myriad crossover cliffhangers for much of his childhood. It contains the single greatest ripped-from-a-comic-book-scene ever on film: The Hulk smashes a villain around as if he were a sock monkey, and drops a one-liner as he walks off, satisfied with his big, green, angry self. Cheer!

But that comes at the end, and I need to start at the beginning: We open in space – evil mumbling abound about the destruction of Earth, by a freakish, hooded alien of some sort. Loki – the villainous brother of Thor, both the hero and the namesake 2011 film, played by Tom Hiddleston – is to lead the charge. He zaps to Earth through a portal that opens at the headquarters of the super-secret spy group SHIELD, the latter tinkering with a glowing blue Cosmic Cube thingy that promises unlimited energy. (Confused? You have not watched the earlier films. Go back to start.) Loki wreaks havoc, taking prisoners and under-mining the Mo-Fo that is Fury (Samuel L. Jackson). 

The first 20 minutes is all SHIELD, an odd introduction, but director/ screenwriter Joss Whedon (TV’s “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “Firefly”) is easing us into this massive universe, bringing in his team one member at a time. We hop from America to Germany then to a massive floating aircraft carrier (straight out of the comic books) and then to New York City for a 40-odd minute battle finale, complete with massive creatures reminiscent of the sandworms in “Dune,” floating above the skyline. 

So, yes, it’s a Michael Bay “Transformers” finale with smashed buildings and fleeing extras, but Whedon whets our appetites (mine anyway) with long shots of the heroes, standing in a circle, backs to each other, ready to fight, and every hero -– even the relatively unexplored Hawkeye and Black Widow – gets a shining moment. Captain America, in the middle of the battle, takes charge of the team as the only man with real-war experience. Iron Man blasts his way through canyons of skyscrapers. 

Then there’s that beaut scene with Hulk and sock monkey Loki. It’s everything you want in a comic book, outlandish action with wit as Loki lays hyper-ventilating and thinks, “What am I doing?” It’s a stellar Whedon moment, and one of many surprises, including the strong touches of humor (Harry Dean Stanton as a security guard) and sad (a major character dies, but he’s not that major). 

The real Whedon coup, though, is fitting all these heroes and actors into one film and making it work – Chris Evans as Captain, Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man, Chris Hemsworth as Thor, Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow, Jeremy Renner as Hawkeye, and Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner/Hulk. Major names mixed in with minor names, and of course Downey rules the roost with his Tony Stark strut and outsize ego, but Ruffalo uses nerdy charm to win scene after scene. When minor-league Evans -- he can’t compete with Oscar nominees -– steps up to the plate to take over the team, we’re cheering for the actor as much as we are the character. 

I never thought a live-action film of the Avengers could be pulled off, but Whedon has done it. It’s not perfect -- that plot is weak, in case you didn't notice, Loki’s lizard baddies are faceless and void of personality, but Downey’s Stark can drop a shawarma reference out of the blue, and make it sing. Comic book love. If “Dark Knight Rises” threatens to lean too far to tragic importance, “Avengers” is bright, bold fun, with the inner-fights of heroes, and their coming together against a world threat a reminder of the best of all humanity. So, in the sequel, Vision please! Confused? Go back to the comic books. And as Stan Lee always said, “Exclsior!” A-

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

In what may be the most spectacular use of CGI since Gollum shat on Frodo’s life in “The Lord of the Rings,” the director, Joe Johnston, and producers, Marvel Comics, of “Captain America: The First Avenger” have gone back in time, found footage of my high school/early college self, and transported the images of my 90-pound bony white ass to modern day. The corker: They painted on the face of actor Chris Evans on my head. (I was goofy looking. Evans is not.) Amazing.

This imagery – all kidding aside, how did they do that!?! – makes up the first bit of the best comic book movie adaptation this side of “The Dark Knight” or “Iron Man.” Based on Marvel’s first hero, “Captain America” is the story of a weakling made into a warrior who takes down a power-mad off-shoot of the Nazis, called Hyrda, during World War II. He becomes a national icon. Great concept. Always was.

The movie is shot to look true to 1940s period, is fun as heck, and proudly, but not boastfully, patriotic. Cherry on top: Evans is every bit the superhero (he played the Human Torch in “Fantastic Four” before this) that Ryan Reynolds failed to be in “Green Lantern.” There’s no wink, but it’s loose enough not to be mistaken for the lead in, say, “The Lives of Others.” Pure comic book glory.

I went in mixed, blood full of a lifelong comic book fan’s demands, and yet cynical that a film in 2011 could pull off the comic’s silly costume and flag-waving, “Stars and Stripes Forever” patriotism. I also did not see how they would pull off the Red Skull, the madman Nazi scientist in need of a dermatologist. The comic books have seen their share of tumult during several decades (as has the nation itself) even going as far as killing off Cap several years back. A bad 1990s film exists, as does a 1970s TV short series of movies. Crap. But here he is, in big screen glory. Cap. The Red Skull makeup looks more rubber dog toy than bone, but ... I got past it. Mostly.

Oh, yes, the plot: Young Brooklyn nerd Steve Rogers (Evans) is a Tinker Toy thin kid who wants to serve and fight Hitler in 1942 America. It’s his duty, he says, why wouldn’t he? (How utterly cool is that?) But he gets 4F’d as soon as he takes off his shirt and smiles, like an overeager puppy. Then, as happens in all comic books, he gets drafted to be part of a super-secret U.S. experiment to become a super soldier. Super. With a few hypodermic shots of blue goo liquid, enclosure in a sarcophagus–looking contraption that shoots off blasts of light and yellow sparkles, Rogers is remade unto an Olympian god -- tall, and stacked with ripped muscles and a square jaw. That’s how the real Evans looks like. Hereafter, all the footage of High School Me is cast aside.

Long plot short: The newly dubbed Captain America must fight the Red Skull, who is every bit evil as Rogers is good. Skull, real name Schmidt (Hugo Weaving), thinks Hitler is too cautious, slow. He wants to move the war up a notch or eight. Cue the sci-fi gadgets and secret bases, and Igor-like lab assistant. I know the comics by heart, so I wasn’t surprised by any plot point, although wildly thrilled that comic book sidekick Bucky Barnes has been moved up from Robin rip-off to Rogers’ bigger friend. He’s played by Sebastian Stan, going full Errol Flynn. Brilliant move.

Also on hand: Marvel Comic’s Howling Commandos. And this is the only major grind I have with the film: It’s World War II, and this unit is a group of various races and backgrounds, an English man, a Japanese man, and an African-American. Oh, it plays well now, it feels good and shows the best wishes of America as a melting pot nation, but for the period – it’s an outright lie. The American military during World War II was segregated, with racism rampant from on top all the way down. (Click here for a fantastic “New York Times” column on the matter.) Japanese men and women were incarcerated in camps across the nation. Fact. I know, some folks will say there was no racism then, such accusations are an evil liberal lie. They also say our Founding Fathers ended slavery. These lies are deliberate, as Orwell taught us, he who controls the past, controls the future. The Tea Party is not about patriotism, but absolute control. Fact.

Now I digress again. See, the great idea of Captain America – his 1940s inception, the comic books and this movie – is what’s best about America: We are not sickly wrong, but we will always find our way and do the right thing, whatever the cost. We want to and long to be Captain America, not fragile Steve Rogers.

Joe Johnston, the director, made the similar “Rocketeer” when I was in high school, and the lone hero against Nazis plot abides, as is it does in the brilliant “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” where Indiana Jones first cracked a whip. No, “Captain America’ isn’t that good. Few films are. Rather, this super hero epic conjures up 1960s flicks such as “The Dirty Dozen” or “Where Eagles Dare,“ where the complicated plot dies at the third act, and the “attack the fort” boy’s war dream takes over.

Bonus points for the brains to show Cap clocking Hitler, the perfect moment of comic book history. Perfect movie? Perfect comic book come to life? Yes. I am biased to like this, and admit it, having owned a vertically enhanced Captain America action figure when I was a child. The action figure -- NOT a doll, OK, it was doll. I digress. Again. Whatever. May every film Marvel makes be this good; red, white and blue and clocking evil in the chin. B+

Supergirl (1984)

Red cape and blue tights. A newcomer actor as the hero. A veteran pro as the villain. A godlike actor as the father figure. “Supergirl” – the 1984 attempt to give girls the fantasy series that thrilled boys such as myself with the “Superman” films – breaks little new ground, and it’s terribly cheesy. But it’s a lark, full of unintended laughs. That’s the somewhat positive side. The negative? Precious little of the plot makes sense, the special effects seem cheap even for 1984, and there’s no heart or bravado. “Supergirl” opens in inner-space, a universe inside the Earth that serves as a distant cousin world to Krypton. You know the one, Superman’s home planet. The story: Teenage Kara (Helen Slater) leaves her world for Chicago in an egg ship to find a missing power ball thingy and has to battle a megalomaniac evil woman (Faye Dunaway, the veteran pro) bent on world rule. Whew. Peter O’Toole is the father figure. The real hero is Dunaway (“Network”), who chews scenery and drops one-liners like she could take over Earth. C+

Super 8 and X-Men: First Class (2011)

“Super 8” and “X-Men: First Class” are not two films I would toss together on any given day, but they are sealed in my mind as a weird double feature separated by a week or so. They are sold as Summer 2011 Box Office Hits, but instead happily riff and thrive off film genres that no longer get the respect they deserve, even if they fall short of beloved and timeless classics.

“Super 8” is a throwback to the five-star films of my youth, “The Goonies” and “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial,” fathered by two masters-of-cinema dads, one older and one younger, producer Steven Spielberg and writer/director J.J. Abrams. With a pedigree such as that, it should be the Film of the Year. Yet, it’s not. Maybe I’m too far removed from my 11-year-old self, the year I saw and desperately wanted nothing more than to be a “Goonie.” (Hang out and kiss older girls? Fight villains and plunder pirate treasure!?! Yes and yes, please.)

The plot follows a group of young teens (led by Joel Courtney as a boy grieving over his dead mother) as they get sucked up in a spectacular alien conspiracy in their small Ohio steel town after they witness a spectacular train crash. The title comes from the movie they are making -- a zombie flick -- on old 8 mm film, this being the late 1970s. I remember doing that. In full Spielberg vein, the children are the heroes, and the adults must grow up.

“Super 8” also mixes in heavy doses of government madness as in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” and it's a wild joy for a while. The teens play to each other, not the audience. The in-jokes of 1979 are so damn accurate and funny. But, damn it all, when the big bad alien is fully revealed, the film goes soft and flaky, and breaks its back reaching for sentimental pathos. All tension and fun evaporates. Also, the creature looks so …eye-rolling obvious CGI. Hey, guys, why not go for old-school puppetry and in-camera tricks? Speaking of cameras, Abrahams’ OCD love for lens flare kills the finale as faces are near blurred by blue light pops. It’s never a good sign when, during an emotional finale, one sits there thinking, “What the hell lens did they use?” But that’s nitpicking. I'll shut up.

Yes, “X-Men: First Class” is a prequel to the 10-year-old film franchise and yet another superhero movie in this, The Summer of Super Hero Movies. But that’s surface. Directed by Matthew Vaughn, “X:FC” is actually an old-school 1960s spy flick born of John Le Carre novels, James Bond films and “Fail Safe” paranoid drama, spiced with an old revenge thriller plot. We get CIA agents, war room grand-standing, fantastic hideouts for the villains (a submarine!), secret bases in plain sight for the good guys, strip clubs and old Nazis in hiding.

Much of the film takes place in 1962, the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, when the world almost nuked itself into radioactive dust. As with “Inglourious Basterds” or a James Ellroy novel, “X:FC ” takes this history and bends it. The gist: What if the whole United States/Soviet Union stand-off was the wicked master plan of a martini-sipping megalomaniac ex-Nazi Mutant (Kevin Bacon) grooving on the wish that nuclear fallout will bring him to power. Naturally, it is Charles Xavier, a peaceful Mutant (he is a telekinetic) who must keep the party from going nuclear. James McAvoy plays the young Xavier, before the wheelchair and baldness.

There’s also the rogue man out for bloody redemption who drives the whole plot forward. This is Erik Lensherr (sic), aka Magneto, an ex-Jew out to slay the Nazis who killed his family. Bacon’s character being target No. 1. Lensherr is far more interesting than Xavier, basically taking the place of Wolverine – violence-prone outsider – in the 2000 film “X-Men.” I’m assuming you know what I’m talking about, all this name dropping and Mutant talk. Apologies if you don’t. Magneto is played by Michael Fassbender who by law must become the next James Bond. (Ian McKellan played elder Magneto in the previous films.)

It’s a daring canvas, asking movie-goers to know real history. Despite how dark and dirty Vaughn stretches – he provides a gruesome death that will forever change the way you look at pocket change – I felt he wanted to go further. Darker than “The Dark Knight,” with more meaning. Too many kills cut away, sloppily, before they end. I actually could have done without the First Class in “First Class,” as the variety of young Mutants (with Jennifer Lawrence as Mystique) on display don’t hold water against McAvoy and Fassbender. There’s more nitpicking, from an “X-Men” comic book nerd’s perspective, but hey … how many summer flicks feature JFK and men in turtlenecks?

Both films: B

Green Lantern (2011)

It’s not easy being green. Not for superheroes. Marvel unleashed two ehh “Hulk” movies during the past decade. This past January’s “Green Hornet” big screen adaptation? Ten minutes in, I was done. Now comes DC’s “Green Lantern,” the galactic human cop with a magic ring. It has heroics, action, distressed damsel, kooky villain and the glowing alien costume. Top notch CGI for the most part. But the movie evaporates, the smirk plastered on its face fading to a yawn.

Ryan Reynolds is the smirking face, Hal Jordan, the reckless careless daredevil fighter jet pilot who is the first human to be “chosen” to join the Green Lantern Corp, a Homeland Security for the universe, made up aliens big and tiny in skintight outfits. Everyone ia straight, I gather. The magic ring allows the Lanterns to make real anything in their mind – giant fist, airplane, sword … you get the idea. Why Hal? Because he is special inside. Aww. And he has daddy issues. Or that’s what I gather. Hey, ring, why not Chuck Norris?

The Green Lantern’s enemies are two: One a gigantic massive cloudy Smoke-Monster-from-“Lost” floaty thing with the head of a shrunken E.T. that devours planets. (A cousin to Marvel’s Galactus?) The second is Hector Hammond (Peter Sarsgaard), a geeky college professor-scientist infected by Smoke Monster, and turns “evil.” I use quote marks, because Hammond is more a tortured sad sack Son of Elephant Man lashing out under an opium-high fit. His problem? I gather he has never kissed a girl. He also has daddy issues. Sarsgaard starts off in nerd makeup, and soon disappears behind latex as Hammond gets crazier and uglier.

Neither of these antagonists holds enough ballast to carry the film, and sure as heck Reynolds never provides the steely nerve of a true hero ala Christopher Reeve. Or even the guy who played Spider-Man. There’s no drama or force of pulsating danger, or anything close to the (temporary) death of Lois Lane in “Superman” that smoked my brain as a child. The climax is rushed and sloppily edited. It’s as if director Martin Campbell (who made “Casino Royale”) didn’t believe in the material. Or was it the studio that doubted?

Supporting players Mark Strong as Green Lantern Corp leader Sinestro, along with Geoffrey Love as an alien man-fish, and Michael Duncan Clarke as a bulging trainer, are just terrific. As his name indicates, Sinestro has a nasty future in Green Lantern’s life. He is the anchor, the gravitas this film series needs. I loved his every scene. Hammond? Needed counseling. The script could have used some doctoring, too. C+

Sky High (2005)

Kurt Russell is one of film’s most under-used comics. In “Sky High,” he plays an uptight superhero living in suburban America – husband, father and real estate agent. His wife (Kelly Preston) also is a super hero, but the kid (Michael Angarano)? Late bloomer. The film focuses on the son as he starts 9th grade, goes girl crazy and tries to get his Superman on. This is pure Disney, but also a sly satire on every 1980s teen flick ever made and all those serious comic book movies. Russell is just a hoot, wearing his costume around the house, generally acting like a serious fool. The plot is silly, but great kid fun, and Linda Carter – TV’s “Wonder Woman” – passes gags around with Steve Carell, Bruce Campbell and Dave Foley. The comic book panel cinematography works here like a charm, an abysmal effort in most other capes and makeup efforts. B+

The Green Hornet (2011)

“The Green Hornet” neither flies or stings. This new riff on the masked vigilante and his karate-kicking sidekick has all the buzz of an anvil. Our hero is Britt Reid, a rich brat who must grow up after his newspaper magnate father dies. (Reid is played by Seth Rogen, the blubbery comic god of stoned frat boys and their little brothers.) The first stab at Hornet heroics begins as a prank but ends in a real effort to save a life. Soon Reid and Kato (Jay Chou) are driving a bad-ass car and battling a hyper-sensitive mobster (Christoph Waltz). What could go wrong? Everything. Rogen co-wrote the movie and his contribution is to make Reid a drunken sexist a-hole, a “hero” impossible to root for, irredeemable and non-refundable. This effort at satire is a soul-killing misfire. Michel Gondry (“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”) directs with listless energy, as if he has an open snickering contempt for his own audience. The grinding action is over-blown, while the squirm-inducing dull comedy gives only an occasional laugh, such as bad guys being flattened by heavy objects. The 3-D version must be an eyesore. D

Iron Man 2 (2010)

“Iron Man 2” is not as good as the 2008 installment that made one of my favorite childhood superheroes -- a second-tier Marvel character -- a household name across America and put Robert Downey Jr. back on top of the “A” list. Let’s face it, sequels always toss in innumerable side characters to expand the plot, rarely cover new ground and, generally, feel like an after party. This falls into the same traps: The combination of Mickey Rourke as psycho-villain Whiplash and Sam Rockwell as evil industrialist Justin Hammer are potent, but not nearly as grounded or menacing as Jeff Bridges’ lone bad guy in film one. Bridges rules. Also, the story is ... smoke.

Here’s the gist: Self-appointed superhero Tony Stark (Downey) as Iron Man has pushed the world toward peace, he’s adored in America and overseas, has women falling at his feet, and … has an out-of-control ego bigger than the BP oil catastrophe in the Gulf of Mexico. He’s also drinking heavily, and watching his power-battery chest apparatus poison his blood. Oh, and the happy American military government? It wants the suit. Helmet to boots.

Then there’s Russian baddie Ivan Vanko/Whiplash, who nurses a long-held family drudge against Stark, plus Hammer, a snarky, nerdy Stark-wannabe who covets being the Pentagon’s pet supplier. Also on deck: federal agent Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson); the femme fatale named Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson); best pal Jim Rhodes (Don Cheadle, taking over for Terrance Howard) who becomes the second Iron Man; love interest Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow); and less-than-subtle hints to fellow superheroes Captain America and Thor. This is one packed house. Frat party style.

Despite thinking I want that damn name chart from "Shutter Island," to track all this, not much actually happens. This is a film of scenes, rather than plot or story. Thankfully there’s plenty of action, including a knock-out fight scene between our Iron Men, Black Widow wiping out a small army of tough guys, and then a closing battle in the old World Science Fair Park. That final fight stops just short of CGI overload. But only by inches. It doesn’t hit the high-note of the first film’s showdown. Is it the replacement of Howard by Cheadle? The lack of Bridges’ presence? I don’t know.

What pushes “Iron Man 2” into silver (not gold) territory is the dialogue. The patter and off-the-cuff remarks are so pure, they seem made up on the spot. Take this line from Rockwell describing a terrible self-built bomb: “If it were any smarter, it'd write a book. A book that would make 'Ulysses' look like it was written in crayon ... It's completely elegant, it's bafflingly beautiful, and it's capable of reducing the population of any standing structure to zero. I call it 'The Ex-Wife.'" If it’s too clever, then fine, I’ll take it.

Yes, the armor nor the story isn’t as strong this second visit, but I’m game for “Iron Man 3.” And "The Avengers"? Ohh, man. Can't wait. Hey, I'm a herd. I have standards. But I am a nerd. B

Kick Ass (2010)

"Kick Ass" is a superhero flick like no other: Horrifically violent, vulgar, and a self-aware smart ass romp that rips a hole into the underside of whiner Spider-Man’s long johns.

This is no kiddie flick, not by a long shot because the youngsters on screen are beaten, stabbed, shot and pulverized in a dizzying spell of nastiness. Any moral person should flee from this film. I dug it.

Aaron Johnson plays Dave Lizewski, a comic book-collecting high school loser who fancies himself a wall-crawling, bullet stopping hero of the night. But here’s the crazy catch -- Dave is dumb enough to actually go out into the night and play superhero. Five seconds into his first criminal bust, Dave is beaten, stabbed and run over.

The Kick Ass of the title is Dave’s moniker, but as one man quips, it out to be Ass Kick. That man is an ex-cop (a grounded Nicolas Cage in a rare great performance) who’s way unstable, haunts the NYC night as a murderous Batman-knockoff and is schooling his young grade-school daughter (Chloe Moretz) to be his Robin. A way-scary Robin with a Marine's mouth.

This is a zany fantasy that regularly dives into high comedy before jumping feet first into hardcore Tarantino-inspired action. It takes the whole comic book genre down a few notches, but loves the film type all the same. B+

Favorites: Superhero movies

The Best
1. The Incredibles (2004)
2. The Dark Knight (2008)
4. Superman (1978)
5. Flash Gordon (1980)
6. Iron Man (2008)
7. Spider-Man 2 (2004)
8. Hellboy (2004)
9. Batman Begins (2005)
10. X2: X-Men United (2003)

The worst
1. Batman & Robin (1998)
And in no order, and not all inclusive: Batman and Robin (1995), Catwoman (2004), Daredevil (2003), Ghost Rider (2007), The Punisher (1989), Spawn (1998), Zoom (2006), Superman III (1983), and Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987).