…to put into perspective just how massive the new (and utterly, mindnumbingly fantastic) Batman movie is, ponder this: In it’s 13th weekend, Iron Man has made $314,925,955. Impressive, right? In it’s second weekend, The Dark Knight has raked in $313,781,677.
I loved both, so it’s like Sophie’s Choice picking a favorite, but which did you prefer?
Ugh. I can’t decide either. The Dark Knight is such a perfect film I almost want it to die. Its beauty makes the rest of the world too ugly to bear.
I loved it. I thought it was amazing. There some were moments where I felt it was to long, but by the end I wish it could go on forever. Ledger was amazing, but so were Eckart and Oldman. Christine Bale won’t get a lot of credit for it, but he was great to.
By the end of the movie, it was taking all my will power not to full-out sob. Ask Shannon— I was a mess. There was a tremendous amount of respect given to the source material and the morality play depicted was easily the strongest I’ve seen in a superhero film. I was touched, moved by that respect. I’ll never need validation for being a comic book fan, but movies like The Dark Knight certainly help demonstrate why I care for them so much.
Absolutely fantastic. We are planning on seeing it again next weekend in an IMAX theatre.
If you want to read, go to a comic shop or book store and grab the following:
Some “ha-ha’s” from Ron Burgundy. My favorite line?
“Gah. Milk was a bad choice.”
Ron Burgundy: Boy, that escalated quickly… I mean, that really got out of hand fast.
Champ Kind: It jumped up a notch.
Ron Burgundy: It did, didn’t it?
Brick Tamland: Yeah, I stabbed a man in the heart.
Ron Burgundy: I saw that. Brick killed a guy. Did you throw a trident?
Brick Tamland: Yeah, there were horses, and a man on fire, and I killed a guy with a trident.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You should find yourself a safehouse or a relative close by. Lay low for a while, because you’re probably wanted for murder.
From IMDB: Volunteering to drive his girl friend’s son home for Thanksgiving to Chicago from his boarding school in Georgia, little does Dutch expect the picaresque adventures in store for him. When a blunt, down-to-earth construction worker takes to the road with an insufferable twelve-year-old snob (desperately insecure under the surface) who doesn’t approve of him in the least, quite a bit must happen before they can reach their destination as friends— or, for that matter, get home at all.
Doyle: “I could have frozen to death, you asshole!”
Dutch: “I don’t think you would have frozen. Not solid, anyway, it’s not quite cold enough for that. Here’s the deal, Dobsie— I don’t screw around. You piss me off, I react. I’m not your daddy, I’m not your friend, I’m not your uncle. I’m a working-class nobody, and I don’t take crap from kiddies.”