CHRISTIAN BALE stars as Batman in Warner Bros. Pictures' action adventure "Batman Begins." Rachel Dawes: What chance does Gotham have, when the good people do nothing? I begin with this quote because it's the most poorly-delivered line in "Batman Begins." Films of this genre seem to be predisposed toward stilted dialogue... and yet, only Katie Holmes' acting appears unnatural here. It's not because I disliked the film. On the contrary, I think this is one of the best superhero movies ever made. Of course, this is perhaps because it isn't a superhero film at all. However, I've decided to get that quote out of the way because Holmes is, honestly, the only complaint I have about this film—a minor one, at that. The most unusual thing about Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) is that he is the horrendously rich heir of an industrialist magnate... stranger still that his industrialist magnate father actually has a heart. Oddly, we find Thomas Wayne believable, thanks to a grounded performance by Linus Roache. Usually, fathers in movies tend to be caricatures who don't interact as much as they assert, who don't understand as much as they alienate. However, Thomas Wayne is a model that serves a purpose here. Set against an increasingly-corrupt Gotham, he is a model—part real, part ideal. We would like to believe that all career-occupied fathers are as thoughtful and caring. As many know the history, Bruce Wayne's parents are killed by a street thug named Joe Chill. This event, which young Bruce witnesses, is connected in a clever way to another traumatic experience—the sum of both anodizes his character into the kind of person who would be inspired to take on the alter ego of the winged vigilante we all know. In this particular incarnation, Bale delivers Batman in much the same way that Connery delivered Bond—charismatic, yet brutally cold when necessary and, ultimately, interested in getting down to business with his enemies. When M. Night Shyamalan's "Unbreakable" was released in 2000, my initial reaction was that it was, in an unconventional way, the best superhero film ever made. Of superhero films, I tend to gravitate toward what the devotees of comic books refer to as the "origin story." Shyamalan has been criticized for his long, brooding takes. However, I feel that he was reaching for a degree of understanding and detail of the characters that would make the audience relate. Perhaps he miscalculated on the attention span of the average audience. On the other hand, I loved the pacing, action and character of "Spider-Man 2." There is a dialogue that occurs between Dr. Otto Octavius (Alfred Molina), his wife Rosalie (Donna Murphy) and Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire), which seems superfluous for such a movie. Yet, I think it establishes a depth to these characters so you actually care about what happens to them later in the film. However, I always felt there was the tiniest fraction of realism missing from its character portrayals. Peter Parker doesn't convince me he's a college student in New York. And this, I think, is where "Batman Begins" succeeds. Perhaps its the calibre of actors, or the calibre of David Goyer's writing and Chris Nolan's direction, and maybe the darker tone of the characters (referencing Frank Miller's "Batman: Year One" and several other selections from the graphic novels more than Bob Kane's original)... perhaps it's all of these things. Before I saw the movie, I tried to rewind mentally back before the Batmans of the past. I wasn't sure how the caped crusader would manifest this time around. I had hoped, perhaps, they would tap into the more primal characteristics—more bat, less man. Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson) is a crime lord whose primary expertise seems to be intimidation. Bruce Wayne confronts him because he believes Falcone is responsible for producing criminals like Chill. Falcone points out he owns almost every cop and politician in the city. It becomes clear, also, that those he owns are reluctant to serve true justice, even if so inclined. The threat Falcone poses is greater, though, because of forces moving in the background with motives unbeknownst to him. Wayne learns something from Falcone—he's not going to get closer to understanding the nature of evil in Gotham, where he is as recognizable a brand name as Donald Trump (or his hair) is to us. So, he travels to the other side of the world and learns the ways, means and ends of crime. To think like a thief is to know their weaknesses. While in prison for theft, Wayne encounters Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson), a member of the League of Shadows. Ducard understands Wayne's desire to combat evil, and tasks him to focus his energies on causes more significant than petty thievery. After being dumped out of prison, literally, Wayne follows Ducard's challenge and seeks out the League. This brings him to their fortress, embedded in the face of a craggy mountain top, where he becomes Ducard's student. Ducard trains him in the League's philosophy and hybrid martial arts. With the stern approach of a drill sergeant, Ducard forces him to confront his fears. This helps explain why he becomes Batman, in more ways than one. We can see the various styles of martial arts, and the various philosophies, from Buddha to Sun-Tzu, coming together to form the essence of what later inspires the mythos and identity of Batman. Bruce Wayne learns that Ra's Al Ghul is the mastermind behind the League. He also learns that their idea of justice is somewhat more arbitrary than his own. When faced with his final demonstration of devotion, to kill a stranger whom they allege has committed a crime, he hesitates. He parts ways with the League, but it's clear that his knowledge and insights into their ways have given a mature finish to the ideology with which he began his journey. I'm pressing myself to skip over some of the details thereafter because seeing how the origin story of Batman unfolds is what constitutes half the fun of this movie. The other half is, of course, seeing Batman do what he does... which is to say he is less of a protagonist than, perhaps, a force of nature. In a style reminiscent of Desmond Llewelyn's character Q in most of the James Bond films (until his death in 1999), we are introduced to gadget-expert Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman). Fox was formerly at the top of the food chain, but like Falcone, he has been relegated to the catacombs. This is, however, fortunate for Wayne, because Fox is that sort of guy who understands what Bruce is up to, but also understands it's best not to know. So Fox humors him. In a way that only Morgan Freeman can deliver, the character is intellectual, an expert in all things mechanical and technical, but remains somewhat detached from his own intelligence. Geniuses are rarely aware of themselves... they spend more time thinking of other things than how much they know. Fox's assistance goes rather undetected as a result. I love an early scene in which Bruce Wayne sneaks into Jim Gordon's (Gary Oldman) office to obtain information about Falcone and recruit his help because, from a childhood memory, Gordon is the only honest cop he knows. Gordon: You're just one man. Wayne: Now we're two. Gordon: We? For a person who's just been held up by a guy with a stapler and a ski-mask, Gordon takes it pretty well. The muted persona works well here. In a town overrun with criminals, I would suppose he's seen stranger things happen. Later, Batman shows up at Gordon's residence. He just... well... shows up. No fanfare, no theatrics. Gordon is unfazed by the reality that there's a guy in an armored suit with a cape hanging out on his stoop, waiting to have a conversation with him. They discuss events unfolding with a somewhat nebulous plan constructed by a large criminal enterprise involving, of course, toxic chemicals... but I digress. What I love about this scene is the attenuated statement: Gordon is just the kind of experienced detective who's seen just enough weirdness to easily handle working with Batman. The visuals in this movie range from exciting and hilarious, as when Bruce Wayne pulls up to a restaurant with two women... in a two-seat Lamborghini roadster, to the genuinely creepy and frightening. One of the more intimidating visuals is the Batmobile. While I'm aware that toy replicas are being marketed to children, it doesn't seem as though this Batmobile was designed exclusively to be a toy. It has a very functional, and quite intimidating, appearance to it. Don't ask me how it spans shingled rooftops without crashing through them... but when I'm watching a movie about a billionaire who feels the urge to scare his enemies by dressing up in a batsuit, I find I'm willing to suspend some disbelief here and there. I like how they explain some of Batman's armor. Even though I'm sure some of the science is anywhere between fuzzy and just plain wrong, I still like seeing how things are supposed to work in that world. When Bruce Wayne and Alfred (Michael Caine) cobble together the Bat-suit from assorted vendors around the world, it provides at least some clarification, entertainingly so, in answering that ages-old question: Where does Batman get his tights made? Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Caine) is portrayed not as a distant, and merely amusing and eloquent, hired hand... but as someone who has been in their employ long enough to gain intimate understanding of the importance of preserving the Wayne ideology in Gotham. Of course, only someone who closely embraces such ideals could be entrusted by the Waynes with the care of their only child. Any previous characterizations of Alfred have not been approached with such gravitas. You actually care about the bond between Bruce and Alfred. So you're wondering, "Can we talk about the baddies?" Oh yes, indeed. Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy) is a bizarre sort of psychiatrist. He has an unhealthy fascination with people's phobias, and he provokes them in a way that startles, confuses and maybe even terrifies the audience as well as his subjects. I'm not revealing any secrets by telling you that his alter ego is the twisted, sadistic Scarecrow. More to the point, I'm not telling you what it is about Scarecrow that is so demented and disturbing. Suffice it to say, like Falcone, Scarecrow is just another pawn in a larger scheme... but as all villains get their 15 seconds, give or take a few, Scarecrow's screen time here is well invested as, I hope, one who may return from time to time. It is, perhaps, a gross understatement to say that there's something deeply Freudian about two men who obfuscate their sexual ambiguity behind the masks of more overtly sexual characters. However, Batman Begins does not follow the same disappointing turn as Burton's, and especially Schumacher's, into an atmosphere so entirely cartoony that it lacks ironic juxtapositions to behold. Credit is due to the visual effects department that evoked, in a particular scene, such demonic a vision that I began to think I'd need some therapy afterward. It becomes evident that the Wachowski Brothers, creators of the Matrix trilogy, were only trifling with gothic fantasy. Yes, a note to parents: Just like it was a bad idea bring four year olds to Jurassic Park, it's probably a bad idea to bring your toddlers to this one. I could talk about the action sequences, the cinematography, or the various subplots... However, I think other critics have all discussed these subjects thoroughly. I think Batman, as a character, presents a unique opportunity for comic book hero adaptations to film. Most other origin stories emphasize the mechanics of how the person obtains their superpowers... a spider bite, falling into a vat of some radioactive chemical... and there's always an elaborate setup leading to this. Then, there is of course the big showdown with the first character, so that the protagonist establishes himself. Here, Nolan and Goyer have thoughtfully modeled Batman's introduction like that of a spectre... Slowly, his presence emerges. We learn not about who he is and what he does, but, more importantly, why he is and how he becomes. He moves through the shadows, and rushes in and out of frame before his adversaries, or the audience, can sufficiently react. Some consider the tight angles sloppy cinematography, but I think it elevates the sense of disorientation that one would feel some guy in a bat-suit came out of nowhere, beat you up, and disappeared just as quickly. Your eyes have seen the beginning, middle and end of this movie, but your mind is still catching up... replaying the images and characters long after you walk out of the theater. When I was a child, I would come out of such movies longing for more, and imagining myself as the hero. I'd pretend I was Superman, or Indiana Jones. Now, at 30, for the first time since my childhood, I've seen a film that both engages my adult sensibilities of wanting to see more character and a better story in this genre, and rekindles my childhood excitement... Walking out of the theater, a part of me wants to live a day in the life of Batman. It's not the suit, or the gadgets, or the money that Bruce Wayne has that makes me envy him... It's that here's a man who has put more of his resources, energy and time into doing more good than many others in his position. Is there a nobler character to which one can aspire?