The Dark Knight Rises: And So It Begins...

It’s 12:14 A.M. on July 20, 2012.  About twenty minutes ago, I was playing Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 with my brother (for a night-devouring three hours straight).  But with that done, I can focus on more important matters.  See, by this time twenty-four hours from now, I’ll have seen The Dark Knight Rises -- in IMAX, of course -- and laid this black-clad beast to rest. 

It’s the biggest movie of the year…well, one of the biggest, considering The Avengers.  It’s a movie that’s been anticipated by countless comic fans, film fans, and generally anyone who just likes living.  It’s set to vaporize box office records and cast them into the wind.  The time is ripe for Christopher Nolan, Batman, and everyone involved with this trilogy to step onto the stage -- the final proving ground -- and lay waste to all our hopes and dreams, and substitute them with dreams of the cowl-shrouded crimefighter.

And I for one am glad.  Because now -- or eventually, at least -- we can all shut the hell up about Batman.

"Now where did I leave my keys...?"

The Avengers (Starring Robin Sparkles)

I popped out of my room this past Tuesday morning to tell my mom that I was going with my brother to see a movie.  “Oh?” she asked, stepping into the laundry room.  “What movie?”

“The Avengers,” I answered.  Just saying it made me want to smile.

She turned to look at me.  “The Avengers?” she asked, almost teasingly so.  “Don’t you want to see that movie Think like a Man?  Why don’t you go see that instead?”

Now, let me be perfectly frank here.  I hold my parents in extremely high esteem; I never went through those “rebellious teenage years” because my parents were unduly good to me.  My mom took good care of me and my brother (the former being a broccoli-haired nutcase, and the latter being a slacker making a nine in Algebra II).  My dad worked long, hard hours at his job -- even if it meant going on extended trips -- just so we could have a stable, comfortable household.   I’d sooner rob a bank than speak ill of them.

And yet, when my mom suggested that I go see a movie besides The Avengers, I almost laughed in her face.

I knew instinctively that The Avengers wasn’t a movie.  It was to be an event -- from its May 4^th release until its inevitable bowing out of theaters, it was a holiday.  A celebration that brought together movie goers, comic fans, nerds, critics both armchair and professional, and people just plain hungry for a good story.  I swore to myself that I wouldn’t miss it.  Just as I didn’t want to get locked out of the loop by passing on The Hunger Games, so too did I want nothing more than to be a part of the superhero festival.

But there’s a key difference between The Hunger Games and The Avengers.  Namely, in that The Avengers surpassed even my earlier definition.  It has surpassed being just a mere event.

The Avengers is The Avengers -- a production that, with its merits alone, has created a fantastic niche for itself.  It is pure enjoyment personified.

AND IT EVEN HAS ROBIN SPARKLES.