Yesterday, I finally had the opportunity to see Batman Begins, Warner Bros. attempt to relaunch the Batman film franchise after the garish excesses of the Burton and Schumacher flicks of the ’80s/’90s. While it was by no means the best superhero movie I’ve seen (Spider-Man 2), it was by far the best live-action Batman outing. (Yes, even better than Adam West!)

I am grateful that someone at Warner Bros. finally realized that it was possible to make a superhero movie without stunt casting or a music video director at the helm. For years, I’ve read announcements of proposed Batman/Superman projects with dread, as it was clear that Warner’s execs had no clue how to treat their prize properties. For once, Batman was grounded in reality and, most importantly, given respect.

The film spent a lot of time–perhaps a bit too much, as Batman doesn’t appear for the first hour–setting up the psychological and logical underpinnings of the character, and explaining how Bruce Wayne’s dual personalities complement each other. The script recognizes that Batman is a character grounded in fear, and makes that the central theme, going so far as to include the Scarecrow as its secondary villain.

At last, Batman is the terrifying creature of the night who preys on “superstitious and cowardly” criminals. Some of the confrontations between Batman and various henchthugs play out in classic horror-movie tradition, with unwitting victims creeping around in the dark and being picked off one by one.

The acting was generally good. Christian Bale was unremarkable, but solid, as Bruce Wayne, and certainly looked the part. As the future Commissioner Gordon, Gary Oldman underplayed a role for once in his life. Michael Caine was terrific, as always. Katie Holmes was…miscast, though that’s in part because she still looks like a high school student.

Happily, the production design was reined-in from the days of neon skylines and rubber nipples. Gotham was portrayed as a believable city, with the only nod to comic-bookishness being the triple-decked elevated trains, and at least those served a couple of plot functions. The new Batsuit was excellent, and while I was initially hesitant about the tank-like Batmobile, once it was put through its paces I was hooked.

If the movie has a flaw, I think that it may have been a bit too realistic and serious. Aside from the Batmobile chase, there are few moments of fun. Also missing are the Grand Guignol aspects of Batman’s rogues’ gallery. While I think Tim Burton’s freakshow approach was ludicrously overdone, a lurid touch wouldn’t have been unwelcome. The Scarecrow had his moments, though his creepiest scenes were those without his trademark mask. Ra’s Al Ghul looked decidedly less devilish than he does in the comics, and without his daughter Talia and his Lazarus Pit-fueled immortality, he’s really just a dude in a suit.

I can understand why Batman Begins made “only” $73 million in its first five-day weekend. It’s got a slow build for a modern, wanna-be blockbuster, and lacks the humor and toy-like elements of the previous films. It’s not all that kid-friendly, though my 10-year-old nephew apparently loved it. That said, it was a refreshing change-of-pace from the usual summer fare, and a promise of better movie days to come for DC Comics’ superheroes.

Dave Movies

Over the course of the new series of Doctor Who–which, by the way, has just been renewed not only for next year, but for a third season–a sinister pattern has been emerging. The mysterious phrase “Bad Wolf” keeps popping up in all sorts of times and places. Sometimes it’s been part of the dialogue, other times it’s just been there in the background. Once it was even spraypainted on the outside of the TARDIS!

Last week, things came to a head in an episode entitled–wait for it–”Bad Wolf.” Aboard the orbiting Gamestation satellite in the Earth year 200,000 (give or take a century), the Doctor realizes that his travels have been manipulated. By whom, and for what purpose is yet to be revealed, but the episode ends with a stunning revelation and the promise of an all-out attack on the human race by a half-million (CENSORED)!

With only a couple of days until the final episode of the season premieres in England, anticipation of the revelation of the Bad Wolf is running high in fandom circles. I’m by no means immune; here’s how my thoughts were running last night.

I was lying awake in bed, trying to piece together clues, and I kept coming back to another unusual word: “Buffalo.” In the episode World War Three, “Buffalo” is an all-purpose password used by the Doctor to access various Earth military servers. At the time, I thought it was just a lousy plot device–a simple password (not even a number in it!) that could open everything. But what if “Buffalo” had another meaning?

“Buffalo” shares the following letters with “Bad Wolf”: B, A, O, L, F. That leaves D and W. Hmm…WHO has the initials DW? Hmmm…

Then I thought a bit more. What if I removed the same letters from “Buffalo?” I realized that I was left with F…U.

At that point, I realized that either someone was playing an immensely clever practical joke, or that I really needed some sleep.

Dave Doctor Who

Last night saw the premiere of a new, so-called reality series entitled Beauty and the Geek. I’d heard good things about it, and as a card-carrying nerd, I was compelled to watch. The reviewers were right: my wife and I were thoroughly entertained.

Geek is produced by Ashton Kutcher, but thankfully he remains off-camera. Furthermore, the end product is much sweeter than the show for which he’s better known, Punk’d.

It’s yet another competition/elimination with a big-dollar prize, but the premise is unusual: each team is composed of one gorgeous woman and one male nerd. They coach each other to participate in challenges involving mental and social skills. (And if you can’t guess who’s coaching whom on what, you’re not the intended audience.)

Obviously, there’s some stereotyping going on here. They managed to field some remarkably dopey women. (During a history lesson, a nerd remarks that D-Day occurred in 1942, to which his partner replies, “No, that’s when Columbus sailed the ocean blue.”) And while a couple of the geeks could pass for normal–in fact, one beauty is immediately infatuated with a geek–there’s also Richard, the prototype moderl for mouth-breathers. He’s reminiscent of Warren P. Cheswick, the uber-dork played by Justin Long on the late, lamented dramedy Ed. Both characters literally make me cringe, but that’s probably because they hit too close to home.

One of my complaints about reality dating shows is that they typically feature hot, studly men competing for the favors of a supermodel (or vice versa). I can’t see the point; surely any of them could exit a bar with someone equally gorgeous. I always thought that if one was to turn a beautiful person into a prize, the contestants should be people for whom such a prize would be normally unobtainable.

Beauty and the Geek is not a dating show, but it does put these poor, gawky men into close proximity with lingerie models, beer spokesmodels, and “aspiring fashion experts.” There’s some wish-fulfillment going on here.

It puts its contestants into awkward situations, but it does spread the shame around. In the premiere, the women competed in a 5th-grade level general knowledge test, while the men had a dance contest. Both occurred in front of an audience.

Still, unlike a lot of reality shows, it doesn’t seem to be about humiliation as much as demonstrating that everyone has insecurities, and that anyone could use a bit of coaching. Beauties and geeks alike quickly find that their counterparts have hidden qualities.

That said, it’s still uproariously funny when they screw up. The aforementioned history-deprived gal is later quizzed, “Who was President during the Civil War?” She squeaks, “Hoover?” When told that it was Abraham Lincoln, her disappointed reply is, “Ohhhh…D-Day.”

Beauty and the Geek repeats tonight at 9:00 pm (8:00 pm Central) on the WB.

Dave TV

Haven’t taken the opportunity to post in more than a week, so I wanted to make a few updates.

Dad got out of the hospital last Wednesday, sooner than expected. I’ve been calling just about every day, and it sounds like he’s doing okay, though he complains of a bit of dizziness and weakness. However, between his depression and hypochondria (both conditions with which I’m all too familiar myself), it’s difficult to tell whether anything’s really wrong.

Tonight begins our mini-pledge drive on WILL-TV, and it coincides with the beginnings of my budgeting for fiscal year ’06. I’m going to do whatever I can to preserve all of the shows people expect to see on WILL, but things will be very tight next year.

Saw Revenge of the Sith a third time over the long holiday weekend, this time at one of the local multiplexes. This particular showing was not, as advertised, in one of the “stadium seating” auditoriums, but rather in one of the crappy, tiny rooms. Ah, well, at least the picture itself is still good. I noticed a few things that I hadn’t previously, such as Obi-Wan pocketing Anakin’s lightsaber after defeating him on Mustafar. (Gives new meaning to his line in Episode IV: “Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough.”)

I’ve been making myself bilious trying to collect the Star Wars toys offered in the current Burger King promotion. There are 31 in all, and thanks to the lack of coordination between individual restaurants, it’s been very difficult to find the ones I want. Mind you, I’m not trying to be a completist, but I do want all of the pull-back vehicles and the plushes. I like BK’s Chicken Whopper, but three times in four days? Blargh!

This week I began using Firefox as my primary web browser. I’d been hearing good things about it, especially about its ability to block pop-ups and harmful applications. So far, I’m largely impressed, and I particularly like the keyword search feature. (If there’s a search one performs frequently, one can link it to a keyword and type it directly into the URL window; for example, I can type “imdb Rosalind Russell” to search the Internet Movie Database for Ms. Russell without first visiting that web site. Neat!)

Tonight, after my pledge drive shift, I’m going to get back to building/painting Tyranids for Warhammer 40K. A week from Friday, I’m getting together for another long weekend of wargaming with my friends, and I want my bugs to be ready!

The most recent episode of the new Doctor Who is (I’m told) tremendously good. Written by Stephen Moffat, who created the British TV comedy Coupling and the affectionate Doctor Who spoof “The Curse of Fatal Death,” “The Doctor Dances” is the conclusion of a two-part tale of London during the Blitz, in which people are mysteriously being transformed into zombieish creatures with gas masks permanently affixed to their faces. The episode is scary, funny, sad, touching, sassy and joyful.

It’s also a comedy about sex, as the Doctor squares off against the lusty Captain Jack (a time-traveller himself, and something of a romanticized version of the Doctor) for the attention of his lovely companion Rose. It explores the question of the Doctor’s sexual nature, long a taboo topic amongst fans despite the fact that his very first travelling companion was his own granddaughter! (You oughta read the elaborate continuity “fixes” dreamed up by fans to explain why Susan couldn’t possibly be kin, despite the complete unambiguity of their on-screen relationship.) “The Doctor Dances” turns out to be a triple entendre: the Doctor dances both literally and metaphorically, and furthermore, as “dance” is used as a euphemism for sex throughout, the title itself appears to be an unequivocal statement to the fanboys. As the Doctor says, “You just assume I don’t…dance.”

Dave General