Superman and Jesus: Separated at Birth or Just In the Family?

I'm sitting at the CC's on Perkins in Baton Rouge. It's Friday, and I've taken the day off from my grueling summer class. I'm here to relax, read a stack of books and comics at Barnes and Noble, visit the local Toys R Us, and...write a blog entry.
I've been meaning to sit down and write this entry for a while, but it's the same old story: the hierarchy of priorities. Ramblings isn't too high on the list, so it doesn't get that much attention.

Before I begin, let me say this: I've received some complaints of late. My stuff is too long to read. I get that. I'm going to fix that. So please keep reading. Please respond when you read, even if it's "good job" or "I'm printing this out to use as emergency toilet paper." Whatever. Just give me some feedback. I received some from one person who said they delete my emails because they just don't see my blog as fitting into their hierarchy of priorities. That's fine and all, but please, at least read before you decide it's not worthy of your time.

Superman and Jesus. This has been in the news of late, especially with Superman Returns. There's a guy who wrote a book all about how Jesus is in fact supposed to be an allegory for Jesus. After all, this cat says, Superman was sent by his father to Earth to save people who can't save themselves. And Superman did in fact die and rise from the dead. So...Superman=Jesus.

Here's the problem: Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, the two Chicago kids who came up with Superman, were Jewish. Jew.ish. Not Christian. They admitted in interview after interview that Superman was influenced by only one religious figure: Moses.

Let's see how that works. Moses was sent away as a baby to save his life. As was Superman. Moses took a trip down a river in a basket. Superman took a trip down an intergalactic "stream," if you will, in the "basket" of his spaceship. Both arrived as infants to the welcoming, caring arms of foster parents.

So Superman isn't a Christ allegory. I'm sorry to this kid who spent a lot of time writing a book the main conceit of which is false. I'm sorry for Bryan Singer, who put a lot of time and effort into drawing parallels between Superman and Jesus in his movie. Same goes to Richard Donner, director of the Chris Reeve movies.

It's not that I'm against the idea of finding Christ-like qualities in Superman. Far from it. I am against this mentality that some Christians have today: nothing has merit unless it looks like our own beliefs. That's fine if it's your personal opinion, but to write an entire book around a falsehood to push an agenda is just annoying. It's actually insulting, really. And I'm not saying Singer or Donner were pushing a Christian agenda, as I don't think either of them are practicing Christians. But folks like this Steve Skelton are another matter entirely...

I think our Jewish brothers and sisters should be getting the attention because of this Superman movie, not Christians. We get enough attention as it is. Why haven't there been any news items anywhere about this? Instead, everyone's going on about how gay Superman seems and how much like Jesus Superman is. I find this disturbing as well. Superman has some gay appeal, and he's like Jesus? It boggles the mind.

I think it's beautiful that these two young men decided to create a hero patterned after someone I'm sure was a hero to them, a person of great religious significance. And remember, Moses is also important to Christians. We're all in the family, so to speak. I'm not writing this to preach or to judge, just to give you some food for thought. Just to give you something interesting (I hope) to consider. If not, well, at least you can tell those people who keep asking you how much you read that you read something today. Enjoy the waning days of the summer. Chris

A rose, by another name...

Lately, I've been wondering if my blog needs a new name.

I do like "Ramblings." Seems fitting, considering that's what I do. But it's not all that indicative of content or purpose.

So...if you could suggest a name, fearless reader, what would you offer?

I've been thinking of "Primary Colors," just because of my love of comics and the fact that I write so much about them here.

The primary colors of red, blue, and yellow are of course the colors of Superman and are used in just about every superhero costume in all of comicdom.

But I don't know. I need some help.

I'm going to ask that folks either suggest names in the comment box of this entry, or email your suggestions to me at krakadoom@yahoo.com.

I'll select the best from whatever suggestions I get and we'll go into the voting stage.

If I don't get enough suggestions or votes, I'll just make the decision myself.

Meauxses

Independence Day Intimations...

Hey kids.

It's Monday of the nice, long, 4th of July weekend. Lots of people are off from work. Thankfully, UL declared today a holiday as well, so this blogger doesn't have to sit in a two-hour class after making a muddy trek across campus.

There's going to be a lot of grilling going on tomorrow. I'd like to toss out a little recipe for beer and brats and see if it sticks. Here goes:

Brats (I prefer Johnsonville)
Two beers (good choices here for flavor: Killian's Red, Bass Ale, Red Stripe)
Two tablespoons/half of a stick of butter
Cajun Power "Uncle Easy's Tio Bueno Chipotle Sauce"
Optional: one onion, chopped

Use a large pot or, even better, a Dutch oven if you have one. Defrost the brats if necessary, then place in the pot. Pour in the beers, then drop in the butter and the onion. Give the mixture a couple of squirts of the Uncle Easy. For those precise folk out there who don't like to "eyeball it," (that's for you, Ali my love!), use about a teaspoon of the chipotle sauce.

Bring the mixture to a boil. Let it remain boiling for about a minute, then bring the heat down to medium. Let the brats simmer for about ten minutes or so.

Remove from heat and place the brats in a container. Next, pour the beer mixture in the container with the brats. Let cool, then cover.

When your coals are ready to go, grill the brats for about four minutes on each side. Serve on a hot dog bun with sauerkraut and/or honey mustard. For a pretty good honey mustard, get the generic "Great Value" honey mustard from Wal-Mart, then add lemon juice, a tablespoon or so of honey, salt, and the Uncle Easy's chipotle sauce used above. Stir and you're in business.

Enjoy Independence Day with your families, and be sure to weigh in on the issue mentioned in the post above this one!

Meauxses

Another reason I dig Bryan Singer...

Singer's a great director, that much most folks agree on.

In Superman Returns, though, he gave the fans so many little "shout-outs," as the kids say today.

This is one of my absolute favorites. I read about it before hand, but there wasn't anything like seeing it. When this brief scene came on, I think I was the only one grinning like a Cheshire cat.

It's a direct homage to the comic that launched Superman, superheroes, and the comic book industry in a single bound: Action Comics #1.

Here's the cover to that issue:



And the shot from Superman Returns:



Mayhaps this means little to the average person, who's not a Superman and comic book fan.

But this means a great deal to those of us who are.

Meauxses

And now for our feature presentation...

So like I was saying, Superman Returns isn't perfect.

So why drop almost seven bucks on this flick?

Go see Superman’s return to the big screen if you want to see a movie that’s innocent, a movie that has spirit, and a movie that has heart. Go see it if you want to see a movie about a hero who is bigger than life while remaining human. Superman endures because he wants to help people with his abilities, when he could more easily be a god in a cape and live just for himself. One of my all-time favorite Superman moments comes from the original Superman: The Movie. Superman is slowly but surely drowning, because Lex Luthor has put some kryptonite around his neck and tossed him in a pool of water. One of Lex’s associates, Ms. Tessmacher, is watching, wondering what to do: save Superman or let him die? Superman sees her and pleads: “Please, Ms Tessmacher! Please help me save all those people!” He doesn’t say “Please, Ms. Tessmacher! Please save me!” His foremost concern is the safety of other people. That moment, played perfectly by Christopher Reeve, still gives me chills when I think about.

Superman’s the guy we wish we could be more often. Not because we could get around the five o’clock bottlenecking at Ambassador and Verot by zipping up, up, and away from our cars and the traffic. Or because we could use X-ray vision to find that ever-elusive, high-paying lotto scratch card. We wish we could be like Superman because he always does the right thing and he’s willing to lay down his life to achieve that goal. We all wish we could do that, but we don’t.

Superman works as a myth because he taps into the mythic elements of the hero that have been with us since humanity began. We want to be better than we are, whether that’s by being super physically or emotionally or super emotionally or mentally.

This is the heart of Superman Returns. It’s about a man who puts what he really wants, love and a connection to someone in life because he feels different and alone (and is, since he’s the last living member of his entire race) behind the needs of people he doesn’t always know or who perhaps don’t appreciate his efforts. Obviously, there are some striking Christian metaphors in the story of Superman. This film alludes to those, but only because it deals with the character of Superman, who has always wanted to love and be loved for something other than what makes him super.

I won’t waste time talking about the well-written story of Superman Returns. To do so might require giving away plot details that you need to see revealed during the course of the story. I will sum up the movie in this way: Superman, the same Superman from the first two Superman films with Christopher Reeve, returns from Earth after leaving for five years. When he returns, all he wants to do is find out where he belongs in a world now darker and more serious, which has also done just fine without him. He also wants to find out where he stands with the love of his life, Lois Lane. However, he has to deal with some developments in Lois’s life and the machinations of Lex Luthor.

That’s the story in a nutshell. I refuse to give anything away. I’d rather instead talk about the performances. Brandon Routh, a relative unknown, is the new Superman. I mean this in more ways than one. He personifies the three elements of the Superman character: 1-Clark Kent, who was born and raised in Smallville, Kansas, where he learned what it meant to be human, 2-Kal-El, the Last Son of Krypton, the man who has more power than anyone else on Earth but who is alone and isolated as the last survivor of a dead world, and 3-Superman, the public amalgamation of the other two characters, who fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way.

Routh not only had to contend with following in Christopher Reeve’s footsteps, but also, with playing a character with so many difference nuances in characterization. He excels at this, though his Clark doesn’t seem to get enough time to shine. Like I said, this isn’t a perfect movie. All in all, you’ll quickly accept that this guy is Superman. And while there are those movie reviewers and folks I know who have said that Routh doesn't have much to do or say, and that he doesn't act, I have to say that I think there's a misunderstanding of what this performance should have been. What Routh does in this film, to the great direction of Singer is nuance his performance. He's not giving us the Superman of Superman: The Movie, who just got to Metropolis and is loving what he does. He's not giving us the more seasoned Superman of Superman II who had to choose between being Superman and having the love he always wanted, while also facing the only other people who survived his planet's destruction (who, I might add, would rather kill Superman than tell him about the world he wishes he'd known.)

Routh is giving us a Superman whose high hopes of finding someone like him were dashed on a journey to a place that was once home, but which almost killed him. (I can't really say more without giving something away...). Routh's Superman is out of place and out of time. He's not changed in the five years since he departed, but the world he returns to has changed a great deal. It's gone on without him, in fact. So Routh's Superman is emotionally damaged from the journey the film's title tells us he's returning from. And then he finds that the world that once embraced him has moved on, especially the one person he's most concerned about: Lois. She's got a family of her own now, and Kal-El has no one. No one just like him, at least.

In my opinion, this is where Routh shines. Sure, he's not a Julliard-trained actor like Chris Reeve, but I think he does a great job showing us the tri-faceted aspect of Superman's personality. That's by no means an easy task. I also think it bears keeping in mind that this is Routh's first big film. He'd previously only done television. I think his talent is only going to grow in his next projects, and he's going to be a different Superman in the next film. The only complaint I have about Routh is that I wish he had more screen time as Clark Kent and Kal-El. This movie really focuses only on Superman. Yet the beauty of the character is that he's not just an alien raised like a human whose day job is being a superhero. Nor is he a complete alien, with no human ties, who just looks human. He's all of these things and more. That's where the depth of the character comes in. I think there needed to be more Clark and Ma Kent time, and more Clark and Lois time. But Singer had a big movie with a lot of characters and story to deal with. So my complaint is just a minor quibble.

Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. Holy crap, Spacey doesn’t disappoint. If you remember, Gene Hackman hammed it up as Luthor in the original films. The problem there was, Luthor was never a campy villain. The beauty of the Luthor character is that he’s the perfect opposite number of Superman, which is why he’s become Superman’s archenemy. Where Superman is an alien being with virtually unlimited physical and mental ability, Luthor is a human being with virtually unlimited mental ability. Luthor is a super-genius, with an off-the-charts intellect and will. And while Superman uses his great abilities to serve all of mankind, Luthor uses his to serve himself. Yet we get the feeling that Luthor, like every great villain, was only a few steps away from being a hero himself. You see, a great villain is a tragic villain. He could have become a hero, but there was some force or influence that ultimately convinced him to take the wrong path. We get hints of that in the original Superman movies and in Superman Returns. There’s some dialogue that establishes that maybe, just maybe, if Luthor’s father had been a better man and a better father to his son, Lex might have become a great force for good. This mirrors Superman, who we know from the original films and the story of Superman Returns is the good man he is because his father was a good man, who made the ultimate sacrifice to save his son and who left a model of goodness to be emulated and inspired by.

Spacey makes Luthor a colorful villain, but he’s never campy. Spacey’s Luthor is the comic Luthor. He’s got a veneer of normalcy and madness, but underneath there’s a geyser of brilliance-fueled malice and evil waiting to explode. Spacey’s Luthor spent five years in prison because of Superman, and his thirst for revenge, coupled with his formidable intellect, creates a very disturbing and deadly foe for The Man of Steel. There are scenes between Luthor and Superman that will greatly disturb you. Luthor and his ex-con thugs do things to Superman that are hard to watch. Brutal, violent, cold things. And Lex’s ultimate scheme is sheer brilliance. I can’t talk about it without giving it away, but it makes perfect sense, and it’s never been done in the comics or in any other versions of the character. I’ll just say this: if you were a super-villain looking to build a hideout that would keep you safe from your superhero arch-foe, you’d do what Luthor does. Trust me.

And now, Kate Bosworth. Man, this is where I have to honestly admit I was disappointed. Bosworth is a tremendous talent. If you doubt me, rent "Beyond the Sea," in which she co-stars with Spacey. She's got great range and depth for an actress her age. But in Superman Returns, she's playing Lois Lane. Now, Lois is in her early thirties in the Reeve films and in the comics. As those of us who are thirty know, a lot of growth happens between Bosworth's age of twenty-three and Lois Lane's age of thirty something. And while women are statistically more mature than men and Bosworth is an actress, she just doesn't completely convince me that A) she's thirty-two or thirty-three and B) she's a mom. I don't buy it, and this hurts the film, as Lois's relationship with Superman is the core of the story. Bosworth does pull it off at certain times, but I guess I just wanted to see an older actress in the role. To be honest, my dream Lois would have been X-Men's Rebecca Romijn. She's thirty-four years old, she's a knockout, and she's got that fire and charisma that Lois Lane should have. Maybe Bosworth will back out of her contract for future films and Singer will give his old X-Men pal Rebecca a call? One can only hope. If you're curious how Romijn would look as a brunette, recall the scene in X-Men: The Last Stand when she reverts to human form. She's got the black hair and blue eyes. That's Lois. And in those eyes is that fire, that "I'll kick you square where it hurts" look that Lois has always had. This is why Teri Hatcher remains, in my opinion, the best Lois Lane yet. Though she sometimes made Lois a little too tough and unlikable, Hatcher tapped into the heart of the character.

Finally, I want to comment on the special effects and the music. The effects were astounding. I told you about the amazing opening credits in my last entry, so now on to everything else. Superman Returns finally gives us the Superman who can do all those things we expect Superman should be able to do. I readily admit, however, that there was a lot more that could have been done. But I wanted to cheer every time Superman was, well, super. From the moment he performs his first super-save towards the beginning of the film, I was in heaven. Routh, like Reeve before him, works with the SFX to make you believe he's really flying. Additionally, all of Superman's powers get a little bit of screen time. And then there's Superman's struggle to stop Luthor's scheme, which I mentioned earlier is brilliant. This is just amazing stuff. I won't go into any more detail. You need to see it untainted by spoilers. And be on the lookout for an "eye-catching" scene involving Superman and some bank robbers packing heavy firepower. It's one of the coolest things I've seen in any movie.

As for the score by John Ottman, well...it's beautiful. Unlike a lot of modern film scores, it never once overpowers the film. A good score is what some filmmakers and composers call "wallpaper" in a film, i.e., you're vaguely aware it's there but without it, things just wouldn't be the same. Ottman brilliantly uses my all-time favorite John Williams pieces from Superman The Movie to great effect. The Superman theme lets you know that Superman's about to come on the screen or that he's about to do perform a super-feat, and Ottman places the theme and others from Williams's original score in just the right places. When I heard the theme over the opening credits, I just wanted to cheer. The original films wouldn't have been the same without the score, and Superman Returns wouldn't be the same without Ottman's work.

Alright, that's my review. Superman Returns has great performances, a well-written and executed story, special effects that serve the story rather than replace it, and above all, heart and soul. Spirit. And a good spirit at that. This story and this movie is about a good man trying to do good despite his own wants and needs and the efforts of evil men to destroy him. It's got everything I imagine a person would want in a summer film. It's not perfect, as I said before. By no means. And there is a certain plot element that I'm still very much on the fence about. Honestly, I hate it. Right now, as of this first movie, I hate it. I just don't think it's a good idea. It's a bad idea based on another bad idea from one of the previous Superman films. As such, I think it weakens this film. I won't go further, as I'd be giving away too much. You be the judge, and then let me know what you think in the comments box. Gotta fly, Meauxses

Please turn off cell phones, be quiet, and remember to visit our concessions at any time...

Welcome to a review of Superman Returns in two-parts...

I left everyone on a bit of a cliffhanger in my last entry. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. But if my description of the opening credit sequence piqued your interest, then I've done my job.

So let's come to brass tacks here. Is Superman Returns good? For the casual Superman or superhero fan, the action movie fan, the dedicated moviegoer, the person who barely knows anything about The Man of Steel other than his costume and that he's also Clark Kent?

Yes. Superman Returns succeeds for anyone walking into the theater. It even succeeds for the die-hard, lifelong comic readers like myself. It also succeeds for the folks like me will always have Christopher Reeve's portrayal of Superman seared in their childhood memories. Chris Reeve was our Superman, just as George Reaves was for the kids of the 50s and 60s.

I firmly believe Brandon Routh is the Superman of this generation. The kids today who see Superman Returns will fall in love with the character because of Brandon Routh's Superman. Decades from now, when another filmmaker is setting about to make a new Superman movie and is hunting for a new Superman, today's kids will be like we were: "Huh. Good luck finding anyone who like our Superman.“ But they’ll finish that statement with “Good luck replacing Brandon Routh."

My love for the character goes beyond any one portrayal in the film medium. After all, I'm used to a myriad of different artistic renderings of Superman in the comics I've read for over twenty years. So I didn't hold anything against Brandon Routh.

Brandon Routh is Clark Kent. Brandon Routh is Superman.

And folks, Superman has indeed returned.

A lot of movie reviewers today go to great lengths to entertain. I’m not sure that should be the goal of a review. The biggies (in more ways than one) like Ebert do what they can to make you know that they know more than you ever will about movies and that, as a result of this fact, you can’t help but listen to them and do what they say. Think what they say. Believe what they say. Or write, depending on the medium. All in all, they have an agenda: this is how you should feel about a movie you HAVEN’T SEEN.

And there’s the problem. You haven’t seen the movie yet. I read Ebert’s review after seeing Superman Returns. Never before did I read such a biting, bitter, abysmal, and truly pathetic vomiting of vitriol against one film. This man apparently has a vendetta against this movie. Ebert long ago lost this film fan’s respect. He proves this when at one point in his review, he lays out this gem: “It would have been fun to give Superman Returns a bright, sassy child, like one of the Spy Kids, and make him a part of the plot.” Ebert’s referring here to a child in the film whose presence is extremely important to the plot, despite a performance wisely nuanced by director Bryan Singer. Ebert just doesn’t get it. This is a guy who thinks the Garfield films and the Spy Kids live-action cartoons are high-caliber cinema. He long ago lost his voice and his heart, and should retire to the Bahamas on the loads of money we all know he’s sitting on.

One of my closest friends, Roy Petitfils, whose name you either know by now or will become familiar with in a few months based on who he is and the work he’s doing, told me with way too glibly last night over drinks that “The reviews are terrible. They don’t like this new movie.” Like Ebert, my good friend Roy sounded happy that reviewers don’t like Superman Returns. I retorted that I’d read and heard otherwise in other reviews. Roy just wouldn’t buy it. The popular movie review site Rotten Tomatoes, which collates reviews from various media into one collective popularity percentage, seems to indicate otherwise. The site uses its “Tomatometer” to give you a consensus of a lot of different reviews from newspapers, magazines, television news programs, etc. Currently, Superman Returns has a 75 % rating. That’s based on 136 “fresh” ratings (meaning good) and 46 “rotten” ratings (meaning bad). You can see all of this for yourself here.

The fine folks at Box Office Mojo tell us that Superman Return’s current domestic box office take as of yesterday is $48,823,000. It’s worldwide take is $51,042,000. This is a pretty good take after three to four days of release (I’m counting the Tuesday “geek previews.”) So these numbers indicate that this movie is being well-received by moviegoers and movie reviewers alike. You can see these numbers yourself and more here.

So here’s the deal. My review is my review. I’d be lying if I said I don’t care if you hate this movie. That’s because I love the genre and the character,and I want other people to love it too. But my review doesn’t have the same agenda as most other reviews. I’m not here to sound as self-amused as I can or show you how much I know about movies or comic books or obscure German Expressionist art. I just want to inform you by answering the question we all ask when confronted with a slew of expensive movies and dwindling cash: Is this movie worth my time and money?

Here’s the answer outright: yes. If you like action, adventure, and a well-told and quite romantic story, then yes. If you see a movie a week, a month, or a year (not that hard to imagine for those of us with full-time jobs and children), then you should see Superman Returns.

Now, this isn’t a perfect movie. It has its flaws, as any movie does. All of my favorite movies remain so because they have flaws that you can forgive because everything else works. The same goes for Superman Returns, which gets added to my list of favorite films. I liken it to a love relationship with anyone: if you’re not willing to love them in spite of their imperfections, then you’re not willing to love. Granted, liking a movie isn’t like loving a person. Those of you who know me well out there might not believe that I think that, but I do. But the point is, don’t go see this movie to see a perfect movie. ‘Cause just like that perfect love, it doesn’t exist.

On to Part Two...

Origins of A Comic Nut and Running The Geek Gauntlet

I don't know where to start.

I guess the beginning's as good a place as any. Alright. I've been a comic book fan all my life. Literally. I remember being maybe three and having a Superman and Spider-Man themed birthday party at the Abbeville McDonald's. I remember getting a twenty-inch Superman action figure for either that birthday or one during those early years. Giant figure. Cloth cape. Big ol' glow-in-dark boulder of kryptonite. Easily one of the best toys I've ever owned and one I wish I still had. My brother, who's seven years older than me, was a big comic book reader himself. He read a lot of comics, mostly Marvel and DC, and of the two, mostly DC. DC for those who've always wondered stands for "Detective Comics," one of the company's early publications that dealt with crime and detective fiction. Detective Comics became famous when it was the setting for the first appearance of the character who held court in movie theaters last summer: The Batman.

Sorry about that. But I can't help it. My brother Jarrod kept his comics in these little shelves on the headboard of his bed. The shelves had little sliding doors, and he'd carefully lock them away from his little brother, who would very likely damage them. Seeing the way my eight-month old daughter taunts and then viciously murders her mother's magazines when left on the floor, I completely understand. Of course, the thing was, locking those comics away only made them more appealing. My mom knew I wanted to read them, so when my brother was at school or away, she'd let me look at them only if I was careful with them. This is one of those wonderful things that moms do. They find a way to make everybody happy. Jarrod never knew I looked at those comics, and I was able to do so and fall deeply and madly in love with that strange, wonderful world.

My brother eventually grew out of comics. I never did. As the years progressed, comics turned me into a voracious reader. I'd read stacks of books every summer and stacks of comics. My mother's mother, who I was close to as a child, gave me an allowance, but also gave me extra money for comics. I think she realized, along with my mother, father, and uncle, that this was not a bad hobby for me to get into. It wasn't dangerous or very expensive (at the time), and it was actually making me a better reader. I also taught myself how to draw by studying those early comics, which was also a plus to my family.

By the time I was finishing middle school, I had hundreds of comics. I'm not exaggerating. Hundreds. I'd spend between twenty to forty dollars a week on comics. Back then, comics were still between seventy-five cents and a dollar. Not three bucks a pop like they are today. So do the math. By the time I graduated from high school, I had over two thousand comics and had read most of the main titles put out by "The Big Two," Marvel and DC, as well as comics like "Spawn" and "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," produced by other, smaller companies.

By this point, I was already deeply in love with three characters: Superman, The Batman, and Spider-Man. They are my "holy trinity" of characters to this day. Those favorites right after them are Captain America, Green Lantern, The Flash, Wolverine, Iron Man, and Thor. Honorable mention goes to Ghost Rider, The Fantastic Four, and Wolverine's pals in The X-Men. So when Tim Burton's Batman was released in 1989, I was beyond excited. I had a Batman t-shirt. I had read some movie tie-in comics. I knew more about The Batman than most eighth graders knew about sports and discovering the other sex. I waited in a line of about thirty people at the small Lafitte Cinema in Abbeville. I asked my mom to drop me off for the first feature that hot Friday afternoon. I didn't want anyone with me, because I knew I was going to be in another world. I knew I couldn't be fair to anyone who came with me, not because I wouldn't want to talk to them, but because I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk at all.

Batman was, at the time, amazing. It catapulted me into that comic buying pattern I mentioned earlier. And from then on, I went to every big comic book movie release on my own. Star Wars films also get this treatment. They're events, and the first time I see them, I like to see them alone. My wife knows this, and is thankfully more than happy to let me do my thing. And I've been doing it since 1989. This is hard to explain to folks and to their credit, hard to understand. I can only liken my fervor and passion to that of the sports fan, specifically, LSU sports fans. My best friend, John Listi, is an LSU nut. Last night, I was talking with my friends about how much of a nut I am about all of this stuff and how it's hard for people to get that. And he said, "well, it's like being an LSU fan." And I thought, "Finally, thank God, I have a way to explain this, something to compare it to." Thanks, brother!

So on to Superman Returns. I've been waiting for this one for a long time, as I mentioned in a previous entry. I purchased a ticket about a week in advance via phone. NOTE: Do not do this!!! Instead, go to the box office and buy the damn ticket yourself. I'll explain why later.

I leave home around 8:45 PM and head to The Grand. I arrive only to find that I'm not the geekiest geek in Acadiana. There's already a bloody line waiting to get into the theater! I stand in that line, dressed in navy shorts and a red button down shirt. I give my ticket to the ticket guy and he informs me, "Uh, Screen 14, that's on the other side, sir." My heart falls again. "The other side?" How can this be? This is why you don't order via phone. You can't tell ahead of time where they've put you. Auditorium 14 is no bigger than an auditorium at a small-town theater and smells bad. I sit there for a minute and then say, "No, I don't think I'm going to watch this movie in this theater.

Now, I'd already sat down and removed my red shirt, revealing my Superman Returns S-shield t-shirt. The \S/ is made with hi-density ink, so it's got a raised texture. I ordered the shirt specifically to wear to the first showing. So I walk out of the theater, red shirt hanging on my arm, looking for a manager who can fix this problem. I find one and he graciously informs me that I can switch to Screen One. Ah, Screen One. Where I saw Spider-Man 2, Batman Begins, and Episode III. A girl who works at the theater spies me and says, "Hey, that shirt could double as your cape." Slightly embarrased, I explain that I wore the extra shirt to save my seat in case I have to getup. And that's the truth. I always bring something to mark a seat with. But I did wear a red shirt so as to keep a Superman color theme going. And dammit if I wasn't found out.

As always with The Grand, it was too damned warm inside. I don't understand this and in my opinion, there's just no excuse for it. None. If somehow this gets to the folks at The Grand (who are, by the way, extremely accommodating and very nice), please listen: I understand how you make your money. I know it's not box office. I know concessions sales keep the lights on. I get it. But if you're going to ask me to support you by buying a decent sized popcorn and beverage at over eight bucks total, I think you need to provide me with an ice-cold auditorium. I could forgive this if we were talking about Colorado. But this is Lafayette. And the last five or six times I've gone to your theater, I've been uncomfortable because of heat. Everything else is great.

Alright, so I'm sitting there in that not-so-cool auditorium. I've got a Superman t-shirt on, as do at least a dozen other people. I figured that there'd be more of "my kind" at this "geek preview," but I was surprised by a lot of different types of people. Young and old couples. Teenagers. Some younger kids. And a lot of people my age, who I imagine are drawn to this movie not because of Superman, but because of Christopher Reeve as Superman. Makes sense. Anyway, I'm seated in what was not "the perfect seat," which if you're curious, is the seat on the very top row directly beneath the projection booth. This seat gets the perfect moniker because you're above anyone who might be noisy in any way, and because it affords you a view of the screen that no other seat can. Sadly, I didn't get this seat because I underestimated those nerdier than even me, and because I got a ticket to that smaller auditorium I mentioned.

Anyway, I'm seated and begin the long wait for the movie to begin. As I'm watching a highly-agitating commercial for Coke for the nineteenth time, I hear "Hey Superman!" I ignore this for a few reasons. One, for all I know, there's someone here dressed in a Superman costume. Stranger things have happened. For another, there are a bunch of folks wearing Superman t-shirts, like myself. And finally, I can't believe an adult would be so immature as to shout "Hey Superman!" to get another adult's attention. I wait a moment for the offensive person to move away or die, and then turn to look. It's a guy wearing a shirt three sizes too short, with a head too small to contain a brain of any significance.

He's looking at me, and I give him the look I gave Auditorium 14. He says, "anybody sittin' there?" in a dull sort of way. He's referring to the seats next to me. Glorious. I look at him without responding for a minute and then mumble "No." My personal Lex Luthor for the night enters the row with his girlfriend (destined to become a saint, I'm convinced) and another couple. I start controlled breathing, so as to calm down. By this point, I've lost the high ground of the perfect seat to people who I heard explaining via a way too-loud cell phone conversation that they "decided to come see the Superman movie on a whim." A whim. These people just don't get it. The theater feels like a freakin' greenhouse, and now I've got this guy and his pals sitting next to me.

A half hour later, it's time for the movie to start. Or more accurately, for the trailers to start. Members of The Grand's staff come in and ask for everyone to gesture to any open seats they have, as this showing has sold out. Sold. Out. I'm thrilled, because it means people still care about Superman. I realize then that I'm not going to let my worries about not having the perfect seat or anything else bother me. People are talking and are loud, there's shouting from one row to another, there's loud eating and cell phone beeps, bleeps, and claps.

The trailers begin. The new Spider-Man 3 teaser comes on. Everyone watches with excitement, though not in silence. I begin to worry a little: will they be like this during Superman Returns? Then the weird and not a little disturbing announcement comes up about being quiet in theater, not smoking, and begging us to buy concessions. You know the one, where you fly through a theater that's apparently in the 25th century, where zero g's are part of the concession experience, as popcorn and candy fly around you like tiny, edible satellites? That's the one.

Then the DTS logo comes up, followed by the WB's production logo and the Legendary Pictures production logo.

A brief bit of text comes up, explaining Superman's origin from the last two films and seventy-six years of continuity.

And then, folks, my God...the magic begins.

The auditorium is no longer hot. Everyone has fallen silent. It's like church. Not church when you first get there and everybody's shifting gears from what they were doing at home before getting to church, but during the homily or sermon church, when everyone's almost asleep. Except here, everyone is excited. Waiting. Anticipating.

The most exciting, most thrilling, most ingenious opening credit sequence I've ever seen bursts into life, accompanied by one of film history's most exhilirating and bold musical themes, John William's original Superman theme from the Christopher Reeve films.

And I'm no longer in that auditorium. I'm no longer in The Grand theater. I'm no longer in Lafayette, or on planet Earth.

I'm in the far reaches of space, following the path baby Kal-El's ship took from dead Krypton to living Earth.

More to come in my review...

Update on Superman Returns Review and The Daily Advertiser

I know I promised a review of Superman Returns a few days ago. As you all know, life sometimes has a way of getting in the way of, well, living. Of doing doing the things that you enjoy about living. One of those things was going see Superman Returns and sharing my thoughts about it with you. I will have a review up tomorrow no later than ten A.M.

A few days ago, I contacted a friend of mine, Trevis Badeaux, who writes for The Daily Advertiser. Trevis knew of my love of Star Wars and interviewed me when Revenge of the Sith was released. I contacted him about Superman Returns, letting him know that if he was going to be doing a story, I could offer some help.

Little did I know that I would be the story. I made the front page of yesterday's edition, though there was no picture of me because it didn't occur to me to offer to send one over. At any rate, the article is well-done and was a pleasant surprise. I really didn't think I'd warrant more than a paragraph, but the article quotes not only my comments from the interview, but also comments made in my last blog entry about Superman Returns and the original Christopher Reeve Superman films. I want to take this time to thank Alexandria Burris for making Christopher Meaux--and "Ramblings"-- news on the front page of that great metropolitan newspaper, The Daily Advertiser.

To any of you who are reading "Ramblings" for the first time as a result of that article, forgive me for not being prepared. I was caught unawares by this article, which I didn't expect would make it into the paper into the weekend. I was knee-deep in the final hours of a three-day study and work marathon for my final portfolio and exam in a class at UL when my wife and two friends let me know that I had indeed made the front page. So I didn't get a chance to post anything here about the article until now. Anyway, welcome to "Ramblings" and please keep checking back.

Tomorrow, as promised, I'll have that review. Though in true Meauxses fashion, I can't just give you the review. Part I of my piece on Superman Returns will be on the experiences leading up to, while, and watching the film. I'll also explain a movie-watching tradition I've long kept going. Part II will be my review of the film, which will involve a spoiler-free version as well as a version for those who have seen the movie and want to hear some more in-depth thoughts about some of the slightly shocking moments of Superman Returns.

Folks, I've been pumped for this film for months, and I felt a real charge when I went see it both Tuesday night and last night. In fact, I'm writing this at 12:48 A.M., having just returned from my second viewing of the movie. If you haven't seen it yet, take this nerd's word for it and go out and watch it.

Meauxses

It's been a long road, getting from there to here...

People in our generation, regardless of what they like or don't like, what they consider cool or not-so-cool, remembers the original Superman films. Most people will say they remember events that are actually from the first two Superman films, Superman The Movie and Superman II. Most of all, people remember Christopher Reeve. He was "our" Superman, and likely always will be. The first film, Superman The Movie, remains the standard by which comic book films are judged. Despite some dated elements, the movie got everything about Superman right. Director Richard Donner cared about the mythos he was "borrowing" briefly to make his adaptation. As a result, Superman The Movie and parts of Superman II, also directed by Richard Donner until the films' producers fired him for political reasons, remain legendary in the memories of fans and non-fans alike.



Here we are, over twenty years later. Nineteen years ago, the last Superman film, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace, was released. As a twelve year-old, I thought that film was pretty good. Time has not been so kind, and now I see that Superman III ("the one with Richard Pryor") and Superman IV are pretty uninspired films, created only to cash in on the first real comic film blockbuster, Superman The Movie. For nineteen years, we fans of The Man of Steel have waited for a new movie. For twenty-six years, since Superman II debuted, we've waited for a Superman film to be released that would return to the glory we know the character possesses.

In the decades since those early films, Hollywood has had many false starts. I won't get into all of them. Of particular note is the film "Superman Lives," which was the brainchild of Batman director Tim Burton. His take on Superman was all set to star ever-balding Nicholas Cage as Clark Kent and Superman(!!!), and was rumored to star Jim Carrey as the super-powered villain, Brainiac. Superman was going to die in this film, only to be resurrected so as to don an all-black costume. According to reports, the studio didn't want Superman to wear his classic costume (it was seen as "too bright") and didn't want him to fly. Think about that: they didn't want Superman to fly. Superman. That's like keeping James Bond away from martinis and barely-clothed women. Or having Darth Vader wearing a sun dress and straw hat instead of his dark armor and mask.

Thankfully, that film was never produced, for various reasons. New versions of the film were considered, with "Charlie's Angels" director McG set to direct. J.J. Abrams, creator of the smash TV series "Alias" and "Lost," wrote a script in which Superman's home planet of Krypton never exploded and Lex Luthor was a Kryptonian himself. Terrible. Then finally, director Bryan Singer, responsible for the only two truly great X-Men films, decided to leave Fox and the X-Men franchise to make Superman.

And here we are. Superman Returns. A "vague" sequel to Superman and Superman II, the only two truly great Superman films. Do you see the irony? Singer leaves one superhero franchise after making two great films to help another superhero franchise that only ever had two great films. It's a beautiful thing.


As my friends and family know, I've been a comic fan all my life. I grew up with those original Superman films, starring Christopher Reeve. Our generation felt a great deal of sorrow when we saw what happened to our Superman. We just didn't think it possible. And when he died, it almost seemed Superman died with him. But as Chris Reeve said in interviews a few years before his death, he was just a temporary custodian of a contemporary myth that was bigger than him. He saw that one day, there'd be another person to wear the S and the cape. Sadly, he didn't live to see that day.

But that day has come. The modern mythology that Superman has become over the last seventy-six years has continued every month in the comics where it began, but the film saga continues.

In just a few days, I'll be seeing this movie, which I've waited for much of my life. The return of the Man of Steel, The Metropolis Marvel, The Last Son of Krypton.


Superman.

Tomorrow, I will have a spoiler-free write up of the film for those of you who might be reluctant to watch it or who want an opinion from someone who knows more about Superman and comic books than most people know about putting on their pants. I might be a little biased in my opinion, but I think the fact of my intense love of the character will enable me to be objective. You be the judge. Until tomorrow, I gotta fly. --The Meaux of Steel

The Saga Is Complete: Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith on DVD

Well, here we are. At the end of a journey that has lasted almost thirty years.

The end of the Star Wars saga. Oh sure, the film's release last May was the "official" end. But today, November 1st 2005, marks the end in a different way. The story ended with the film's theatrical release, but as a Star Wars fan and collector, today the film saga ends more permanently with the release of Episode III on DVD. Sure, there will be the big "Ultimate Edition" boxset with all the DVDs and extra stuff, but that's a few years away. Today marks the completion of the saga. It's done. You can have the whole shebang to yourself.

Yeah, I know. Ner-dee. But hey, at least I'm not this excited about the latest derivation of crack. It's all about perspective, people.

Here's some pics celebrating the release of the last Star Wars film on DVD.

My Star Wars DVD collection before today. Notice the bareness of that space between the two trilogies...it begs "Please, complete me, complete meeee!" Or maybe not. I don't know.



Here I am at home having just purchased my copy of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I kissed my wife and daughter, said hello to my mother-in-law, and then went to the DVD shelf, baby!! Woohoo!



Here I am making room between Episodes I and II and Episodes IV-VI for Episode III. The empty gap between the trilogies was more eager than even I was. Yep.



Ah, The Moment of Moments. The addition of Episode III in its rightful place in the Star Wars saga. Sweet Mother of Yoda, this is it!!!



The first image of the saga now complete. Now finished. Holy.Crap. Here we go.



And now, the ultimate pic of the entire Star Wars Saga on DVD. Here it is, all of the cover artwork coming together thematically to paint the picture of the greatest saga ever committed to film:



Well, there it is. The End. Or is it? Time will tell...

Our family's Hurricane Preparedness Plan (A First Draft)

Meaux Family Hurricane Preparedness Plan
Drafted on Saturday, September 24th, 2005, in the wake of Hurricane Rita

The following is a first draft of what will be a fluid preparedness plan for our family. I'm sharing it with family and friends to hopefully get them thinking about how to adequately prepare for an approaching hurricane. The sharing of information such as this will go a long way to helping all of us be ready in the face of life-threatening, possibly catastrophic damage.

I know the color-coded stuff is a little nerdy, but the point is to have memorable stages of our plan as a convenient means of reference. And as those who know will attest, I love saying and writing this kind of dramatic, summer-blockbuster the world's in jeopardy kind of stuff. Like I said: nerdy. I admit it.

Condition Blue

Condition Blue (Blue Alert) is set when a strong tropical storm or hurricane enters the Gulf of Mexico. Blue Alert simply means that we are watching this storm very carefully. If the forecast track is favorable for the Texas-Louisiana-Mississippi coasts, and intensification is assured, we will move to the next condition.

Condition Yellow

Condition Yellow (Yellow Alert) is set when a tropical storm or hurricane is guaranteed (as much as such things can ever be guaranteed) to make landfall somewhere along the Texas, Louisiana, or Mississippi coastline. Yellow means that we will begin to look at options for evacuation, i.e., checking hotel availability outside of the threatened area and/or calling friends or family who live outside of the threatened area. If we find an available room or home to move to, we will make arrangements as necessary. This would include making temporary reservations at a hotel or letting friends or relatives know when we'd like to arrive at their homes.

Note: I should mention that I learned while staying in BR during Rita that advance hotel reservations may not be honored in times of extreme crisis. This apparently happened often during Katrina and Rita. We will try and determine if the hotel we're considering as a refuge will allow us to pay in full when making the reservation, thus guaranteeing our room. I'm not sure if this is even possible, though I imagine this would not be a big factor unless we have another back-to-back situation as we saw with Katrina and Rita, or as I like to call the whole big mess, "KatRita."

When Condition Yellow is set, emergency supplies and actions will be purchased and taken. This involves fueling our vehicles, boarding up our home, letting our employers know that we are considering evacuating, and purchasing items needed for an extended stay somewhere outside the cone of uncertainty. This includes getting making certain needed medications are filled and securing important documents and valuables to be taken with us during evacuation.

Condition Red

Condition Red (Red Alert) is set when our area is in the forecast's "cone of uncertainty." This means that forecasters are assuring us that a better than 50% chance exists that the storm will make landfall in the Louisiana area, either directly south of us or to the north or west. For our family, we have agreed that we will move to Condition Blue with a hurricane of a Category 1 or higher. While this may not be known at the time of setting Condition Blue, we will watch carefully for the possibility of intensification before making landfall.

I should note here that a big factor involved in going to Condition Red will be where our area is in relation to the storm's forecasted track. If we're to the east, as we were with Rita, we will leave even in the event of a Cat 1 storm. If we're to the west of the storm, we will then take its intensity into consideration before deciding to leave.

When Condition Red is set, we will try to leave our homes somewhere between 36 to 48 hours prior to the storm's landfall. This will hopefully put us at least a day ahead of other evacuees, thus allowing us to avoid traffic pile-ups and other possibly dangerous situations, as were seen with Houston's evacuation during Hurricane Rita.

Condition Orange

Condition Orange (Orange Alert) is set when we receive the first indications that the storm is fully out of our area. As I write these plans, there are still some outer tropical bands resulting from Hurricane Rita. We had a harrowing drive from Baton Rouge in wind gusts of up to sixty miles an hour. The possibility of tornadic development was high, though we thankfully did not face any such conditions.

Condition Orange means that we will begin considering when to begin our journey homeward from our safe haven. This will include letting our hotel know when we are leaving (we expect to make reservations for at least two days during Yellow Alert) and consulting the Louisiana State Police and other official information sources for details of the conditions along the way home. The Louisiana State Police hotline was invaluable to us as when we decided to both evacuate early Friday morning and return home late Saturday afternoon during Hurricane Rita. The officers and staff we talked to were friendly and knowledgeable and ready to assist us with traffic conditions and weather updates. Via cellphone, they can be reached at *LSP (*577).

Condition Green

Condition Green is set when we have decided, based on weather information and traffic updates, to return home.

Post script: Ali and I did not enjoy the psychological strain of worrying about the sounds attendant to intense and severe weather. We decided early Friday morning to depart for Baton Rouge, and though we did lose power where we stayed and not at our home in Youngsville, we were able to mentally unwind Friday, allowing for sleep and rest before the strain of the landfalling storm. It is for these reasons that we have agreed to vacate our home, as we would rather err on the side of caution and spend a few hundred bucks than remain and "hope for the best." This will be especially important when our daughter Ava is here.

Reflections on Rita

Well, here we are yet again. At the end of yet another major hurricane in Louisiana.

I have to say, I've had it. I'm done. Really. No more.

Here's a brief history. The first hurricane I remember was Danny, back in the 80's. I was a kid. I was freakin' terrified. I'd long been terrified of severe weather. My dad dragged us all to a horse show in Texas one year, and I remember to this day waking up from a nap in the back seat to a terrifying sight: night-black skies in the middle of the day.

We were driving through an area during an outbreak of tornadic activity. We didn't see any tornadoes, but I was forever scarred by incident. As the years went by, anytime an ominous cloud appeared, I was scared spitless.

Then came Hurricane Andrew. Need I say more? We were all affected by this storm, and even today still feel its effects. My father, who is against any form of evacuation, decided that we weren't going anywhere. I wasn't old enough to do anything about his decision, so I was stuck. We boarded up the windows and then waited. My father pontificated about the storm. His non-meterological background made it hard to be comforted. I still remember getting home from school earlier that day and laying on the floor in our living room. I looked up at the ceiling tile and thought "This is it. I'm going to die. This is the end." This was reinforced by a talk I had on the phone just after returning home with a friend from school. Margaret was not really one to ever show her fear of anything. Yet I could hear in her voice that she was worried about this hurricane. She finally admitted she was scared. That, I figured, might as well have been a death warrant, signed by a wet and windy finger from the Gulf. We sat in the dark and tried not to wonder what was richoting off our roof and the facade of the house. We survived, but were forever changed.

I remember driving home after having dinner with my friend Roy and his cousin Howard. I'd been accepted as a seminarian for the Diocese of Lafayette only weeks before. We were meeting to talk about seminary, since Roy had gone in a year before I did.

The weather was not a concern, as I was enjoying spending time with my friends. As we finished dinner at Duffy's Diner in New Iberia, the skies darkened, and I realized I needed to go. I bolted out of "The Berry" and was confronted with twisting, roiling clouds. I started praying and hit 80 just before making it to Delcambre. Thankfully, I avoided the severe weather that would break out later on in isolated areas.

Next came Tropical Storm Alison. Not a big deal for me at the time. Just a lot of rain. I ordered a pizza (the comfort food I eat even when I don't need comfort) and settled in for a few days of rain. It was great.

Then Lili came a'knockin. She was quite the bitch. I had been dating Ali, who would become my wife a little over a year later, and she decided she wasn't staying in Lafayette. "Great," I remember thinking, "I'm not staying either. Let's go to Mississippi, or northern Louisiana. You. Me. Anyone who wants to join us. No storm. Fun."

Ali had already made up her mind that she wanted to go and be with her family in Crowley. "Crowley," I remember thinking. "That's still in Louisiana, right?" Ali freed my up from any feelings of committment, telling me it was alright if I wanted to evacuate.

I was in love, so what was I going to do? After writing a brief will (yeah, I know, I wrote a will) and going to Confession, Ali and I taped up her windows and we were off to The Rice Capital of the World. Yay. Rice. At least we'll have something to eat if we don't die first.

Lili was hell in more ways than one. It did startling damage to Abbeville, Crowley, Duson, Rayne, Lafayette, and other places. At Ali's brother-in-law's, we sat and waited. I tried to be strong, but my mental vision becomes very focused in situations where a wind-tossed tree might rapidly and noisily stop this nice little thing I do called breathing.

The wind scraped its nails against the boards on the windows and the exterior of the house. We'd lost power the night before, beginning the greatest asset to comfort known: exceptional heat and humidity. I love smelling like a cheap gas station burrito, how about everyone else?

We watched the next day as a tree began to show signs of being uprooted. An hour or so later, it was, and it came crashing into my brother-and-law's house. "Chris, we're going outside to look around. Wanna come?" Uh, sure. I'm not doing anything else today but staying alive. Let's roll. Jeremy didn't really come out and ask me to go out there with him and Ali's uncle John, but I almost felt obliged. It's in the non-verbal agreement you make when you take up shelter during severe weather in someone else's house. "The undersigned will agree to subject themselves to clearly foolish and damned illogical activity, i.e., going out in sustained winds of thirty mph while also weathering 60 mph gusts. The undersigned should remember to bring a raincoat and a black suit for the nigh-inevitable burial later on."

At any rate, Lili didn't harm us too much, but the psychological strain of hearing winds droning like the damned in Hell and crashes that make your skin crawl has never left me.

Which brings us to three days ago. Southern Louisiana is in something called a "cone of uncertainty." These now infamous words kind of nipped at the confidence we had knowing that Katrina wouldn't really affect us. But worse than Rita's uncertain path was the fact that we would be on her east side. Everyone knows that's not where you want to be in a hurricane. Just look at what used to be the Mississippi coastline, to say nothing of the areas east of New Orleans.

My wife and I couldn't agree on what to do. I'd made up my mind during Lili that we'd not stay through such a storm ever again. But Katrina's wrath had assured that we'd not find room in the inn. So we were decided: we'd stay in the Lafayette area, taking refuge at the house of our friends Charles and Mandy Jaubert.

I took an anxiety pill at ten o'clock Thursday night, after removing and securing anything in our yard that might be a potential projectile. I slept like a log left over from Lili. But Ali tossed and turned and awoke every three hours. At 0515 Friday morning, she pokes me in that gentle way she has when waking me up and says, "I want to go to Baton Rouge."

I responded with "Okay," and that was it. Two hours later we made a surprisingly pleasant trek east, to stay with friends of Ali. We arrived and after eating breakfast and a nearby McDonald's, took a nice nap and watched the coverage of Rita.

Over all, our stay in Baton Rouge wasn't bad. But we lost power around 11: 30 PM last night, and had a sticky and frightful night of wondering if embedded tornadoes were going to toss tree limbs (or road signs or bicycles) through the windows or into the windshield of our car. I left my glasses at home, so after taking out my contacts, almost hardened by being worn too late, I went through Rita's landfall during nightfall almost blind. It's not something I recommend.

This morning we ventured out for coffee and breakfast. Our spirits high because the sun was out and it seemed that the worst was over. Then the skies darkened at 11 or so, and the winds came. We went back to our friends' home and waited. We awoke from naps an hour or so later to find the wind almost calm and roads dry. We decided to make the westward journey to home.

In Lobdell, the winds came again, this time with teeth fully bared. We watched as a lightpole at a fast food restaurant almost fell and collided with the children's playground out front. Ten minutes later, we drove slowly through forty mph gusts as a convoy of Army National Guardsmen headed towards ravaged Vermilion Parish. A Lafayette meterologist warned of approaching bands carrying with them embedded tornadic potential.

We prayed a Rosary and drove carefully but quickly across the Atchafalaya Basin. The wind swatted at us like someone does at a fly they only half care about killing. I was tempted to look at the twisting tendrils of cloud to the south of us, where I was sure I'd see the snaking form of a funnel cloud, ready to toss us off the basin bridge to certain death.

But we made it through, by the grace of God. We're home now, surprised to learn that neither we nor our neighbors ever lost power. We could have stayed, but the psychological strain would have been worse than it was in Baton Rouge.

And that's the whole point of all of this. I'm done, as I said at the beginning. No more. I've written some hurricane prepardness plans for our family. They're probably a little nerdy, as I used some color-coded "conditions" and "alerts" to gauge our levels of preparedness. But Ali and I are at least agreed that next time, if we're in that infamous cone, we're going to "err on the side of more," as Fr. Hampton "Padre" Davis used to tell me when I was his sacristan in college.

We might be wasting a few hundred bucks to stay in a hotel and get away. The next hurricane (and oh yeah buddy, there WILL be another one) might not even threaten us in any way. But we'll have peace of mind. And I find that I'd rather have that than a night of terrors, fraught with uncertainty and anxiety.

For a breakdown of our Meaux Family Hurricane Preparedness Plans, click here.

Chris

Beyond the Final Frontier: The Death of James Doohan, Star Trek's "Scotty"

James Doohan, known around the world for the last forty years as "Montgomery Scott, a.k.a. "Scotty," passed away Wednesday, July 20th, at the age of eighty-five. For various reasons, I haven't been able to write an entry about Mr. Doohan's passing until now.

As my family and friends know, I have been a dedicated and maybe even rabid Star Trek fan since I was a wee lad, as Scotty might say. As I mention in my entry about the cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise and the end of the Trek franchise on television, I gained a love and appreciation of Star Trek through my brother, who was an avid fan himself back in the day. With Jarrod, I watched reruns of the original Star Trek series (still the best) and, of course, the film series with the original series cast. Star Trek has been a constant in my life for over twenty years. It has been a source of comfort and inspiration, of security and hope. Whether it was The Original Series or the The Next Generation, Star Trek was always there for me.

When I heard the news that James Doohan died, I didn't quite know how to feel. I know this will sound a little creepy for you non-Trek fans out there. But let me put some things in context for you. The Star Trek films featuring the Original Series cast and the Next Generation weekly episodes helped me pull through some difficult times in my life. The particulars of those struggles aren't important, but the fact that this mere "sci-fi show" was a part of how I coped is very critical. I remember shedding tears after viewing the last Star Trek film to feature the Original Series cast, "Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country." It was 1991, and I was fourteen or fifteen. But the characters of Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, Chechov, Uhura, and last but not least, Scotty, had been like an extended family to me. And by extension, so too had the wonderful cast who brought these characters to vibrant life. Of that cast, James Doohan was one of my favorites, both as the person he was and as Scotty.

I've taken my time to write this entry about James Doohan's passing because, quite frankly, I don't know that there are words. I didn't know Mr. Doohan personally, nor was I ever fortunate enough to meet him. But in various interviews I've read and watched over the decades, Mr. Doohan--along with his colleagues--has repeatedly stated that much of the character of Scotty came from the person James Doohan was.

I could list his accomplishments as an actor and as a war hero. I could tell you my favorite scenes featuring Mr. Doohan's "Scotty," as well as my favorite lines. Instead, I thought I'd share with a transcription of a brief interview with Mr. Doohan from the Star Trek documentary, "Trekkies." I watched this film for the first time last week after Mr. Doohan passed on. There are a few snippets of interviews with Mr. Doohan, but the one below is representative to me of who this man was as a human being and as an actor. And in the role he is best known for, good ol' Scotty, miracle-worker and engineer extraordinaire.

I got a fan letter from a young lady. It was a suicide note. So I called her, and I said "Hey, this is Jimmy Doohan. Scotty, of Star Trek. I'm doing a convention in Indianapolis. I want to see you there." I saw her, boy I'm telling you, I couldn't believe what I saw. It was definitely suicide. Somebody had to help her, somehow. And obviously, she wasn't going to the right people. Anyhow, I said to her, "I'm doing a convention two weeks from now, in St. Louis. And two weeks after...she also came to New York. She was obviously able to afford to come to these places. And this went on for two or three years. Maybe eighteen times. And all I did was talk positive things to her. And then all of a sudden, nothing. I didn't hear anything. I had no idea what was happening, because I never really saved her address. Eight years later, I get a letter saying, "I do want to thank you so much for what you did for me. Because I just got my Master's Degree in Electronic Engineering." You know, to me, that's the best thing I've ever done in my life. And it brings tears to my eyes every time I even talk about the story."

I don't have much to add to that. Every interview and message board response I've read about Mr. Doohan matches up with this story. A good man has been lost. May God bless Mr. Doohan and his family in this time of mourning. Christopher Meaux

James Doohan as "Scotty" in the final Star Trek feature film to feature the entire Original Series cast, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. Photo courtesty of http://www.trekpulse.com Click on the picture to see a larger version.




Tribute art created by Mr. Geoff "Ptrope" Edwards, moderator of the Trek Art forum of the Trek BBS. Geoff is one of the ridiculously talented guys over in the Trek Art forum who create some of the most beautiful computer-rendered sci-fi art you'll ever see. Head on over to http://www.trekbbs.com/threads/postlist.php?Cat=&Board=UBB20 to glimpse some truly othewordly work. Art used by permission, Geoff Edwards, 2005. Click the picture for a larger version.

For Whom the Bell Tolls: The Death of Comic Book Artist Jim Aparo

This quote, well-known to most, comes from John Donne's Meditation 17, part of his Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions: "No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee..."

Yesterday, myself and countless other comic book fans across the globe were diminished by the death of Jim Aparo, who was an artist in the truest sense of the word. Jim Aparo, was born in 1932, and had a long and illustrious career in comic books. While it's true that Jim Aparo's name wasn't that well-known outside of comic book professional and fan circles, Jim Aparo's art is instantly recognizable to just about anyone who ever had a Batman lunch box or Underoo's. Chances are, if you ever saw any '80s Batman art on a sticker, a coloring book, a pair of Underoo's, a cereal box, or any other place, including a comic, it was an Aparo.

Mr. Aparo died yesterday at the age of seventy-two after complications resulting from a recent illness. He is survived by his wife Julie, his 3 children, his 4 Grandchildren and two step-grandchildren. Jim Aparo was a mostly self-taught artist. Throughout this entry, I'll be posting some of Mr. Aparo's best work. You'll be astounded to see that such art was produced by a man with very little formal art training. I am amazed particularly because I, like Jim, taught myself how to draw by reading and poring over comic books, though my art is nowhere near Jim's and is for my enjoyment alone.

Before I get into what Jim Aparo means to me, I'd like to share with you all something I found on a message board yesterday. A gentleman commenting on Mr. Aparo's death recalled that he had met the artist at a comic book signing right after the much-publicized "Death in the Family" storyline, which saw the death of Batman's sidekick, Robin. The storyline was the first true comic book stunt, and DC Comics allowed the readership to call in via a toll-free number to decide the fate of The Boy Wonder. Jim Aparo was the artists responsible for the pencil work on the storyline. The gentlemen I mentioned earlier was asked by Mr. Aparo what his vote had been for Robin, life or death. The man answered honestly that he'd voted for Robin to die. He and Mr. Aparo began to argue as the signing went on. Jim Aparo's opinion was that no one should ever wish the death of a person, especially if they hate that person. The man having his comics signed replied that the Robin character was snotty and annoying, but Mr. Aparo was adamant that wishing death on anyone was wrong.

I share this story to offer you a glimpse of the man who I have known all my life if only through his artwork. I began my love affair with comic books before I could read. I'd sneak into my brother's room and, with the deftness of The Batman himself, quietly slide open the cabinet where my brother kept his comics. I'd make sure no one was around, and then I'd sit and look at them. Later, I began to read them. As I grew older, I had to have my own, and thus began a love of the medium that endures to this day.

It's widely recognized in comic book circles that the three most beloved and well-known characters of all time are Superman, The Batman, and Spider-Man. I have long been a fan of all three of these characters, but The Batman has a special place in my heart. I own at least three hundred Batman comic books, not counting collections and one-shot stories. Of those three hundred issues, the majority are illustrated by Jim Aparo. Last night, still pensive about his death, I took out some of those old comics and was reminded of the joy that came with my youthful love of comics. A significant aspect of my love for comics is wrapped up in my love of comic, or as we prefer to call it in the genre, "sequential art." It's not just random drawings slapped together behind still more random drawings. It's sequential art because it tells a story in a way that no other medium can, not film, television, or books.

Jim Aparo was, at least for my generation, one of the "Big Two" Batman artists. There was Jim Aparo and there was Norm Breyfogle. Both are considered untouchable in my opinion. But Jim Aparo's work has a special place in my heart because his rendition of The Batman was the first I ever saw. Jim worked on Batman and on a team book called Batman and The Outsiders, which my brother was a big fan of. That's probably where I came to first appreciate Jim's work. That said, there was an issue of Batman the cover of which has remain seared in my mind's eye, so beautifully and powerfully was it rendered. For decades, I've wondered just what that issue was, as it belonged to my brother but has eluded me all these years. I've searched on the Web and in various other places and have found nothing. Until yesterday. While compiling cover art for a memorial thread for Jim Aparo that I started at a message board I frequent, I came across the image below.
When I laid eyes on it, I had to blink a few times to make sure I was really seeing what I was seeing. It really was that long-lost and unknown Batman comic, which had remained in my memory for most of my life. But the real kicker was that it was drawn by Jim Aparo.



This cover is one of the many reasons why I--we--are diminished by the death of Jim Aparo. I mean, just look at that cover! Go ahead, I'll give you another second to drink it in! It's simple and doesn't have that much intricate detail or action, but what's there is more expertly-crafted than the majority of the cover art you see on today's minimalist comic book covers. The action is clearly identifiable: The Batman is plunging to almost certain doom from the zeppelin above. There were a good number of ways this scene could have been portrayed, but it takes an artist like Jim Aparo to go at it from this angle and with this much power and drama.

That is what's so legendary, so brilliant about Jim's work. He's a talented draftsman and artist, yes, but he had a style that was unmatched by his peers. There aren't many artists in sequential art today whose work is instantly recognizable from afar. Nor is there anyone today who is as good a storyteller as Jim Aparo was. He could convey a range of emotions in a face make you wonder if he didn't spend all of his time looking at faces, getting a feel for how people looked and didn't look when they felt their feelings. Any honest artist will tell you that the face is the hardest part of the human body to draw. To be able to not only draw it well, but also, to infuse it with life and expression, is a rare and wonderful gift. Jim Aparo had that, and more.

Last night, I dug through my closet in the computer room my wife and I share at our home. I pulled out a box of old Batman comics and for an hour or so, marveled anew at the work of Jim Aparo. The smell that comic books once had, which came from the newsprint pages and the ink, wafted up to me and intoxicated me. But not nearly as much as the work of Jim Aparo, still vibrant, alive, and powerful after all these years. The truth is, there are other, far more important reasons why Jim Aparo was loved and appreciated. His family and friends are the receivers and guardians of those truths. But I'd like to think that, as an artist, Jim put some of that importance, the importance of life, into his work. I doubt any artist achieves success without putting themselves in their work. As you sample some of what I consider the best of Jim's cover art below, I think you can see how successful he was at his craft and in his life. Remember Jim Aparo and his family today in your thoughts and prayers.


Some of my favorite Jim Aparo art...

The Batman and Catwoman have both seen better days...

One of the iconic "hero no more" type covers often used on comic books. It takes a true artist like Aparo to make this kind of cover really work.

That's right, that's Jim Aparo on the cover! From a time when comics were a little more laid back than they are today...

Interior art from Batman: A Death in the Family, which saw the death of Robin The Boy Wonder at the hands of The Batman's archfoe, The Joker.

Cover art for the collected Death in the Family. Some of the most compelling and emotional art ever seen in comics history.

The Batman's back is broken by Bane, the first Batman villain to use brains and brawn to finally take out The Dark Knight. If only for a time...


Jim Aparo's first work on The Spectre, another DC character he put his stamp on...

The cover to The Brave and the Bold Art of Jim Aparo, which will be available in October and can be pre-ordered on Amazon.com.

Batman Begins Audio Review Part II

Batman Begins Audio Review Part I

Batman Begins: A Review

Good afternoon and welcome to the first audio edition of Ramblings. Because I don't have a lot of time to record this entry, I'll keep my review of Batman Begins short and sweet, both in the audio and written version.

To access the audio review, click the icon above this entry, dated June 16th, 2005. Otherwise, read on!

I could talk for hours about this new beginning for the Batman film franchise, but much of what I'd talk about would be lost on those of you who aren't comic book fans. So this review is for you casual viewers, who like Batman well enough but have never touched or maybe even seen a Batman comic book.

I'm not a believer in spoiling films or books or stories of any kind, so feel safe to keep listening or reading. The only thing you need to know about the plot of Batman Begins is that it is the first live-action Batman film to actually make the characters of Bruce Wayne and The Batman the core focus of the narrative. This movie delivers exactly what it proclaims in its title: Batman Begins. We watch the tragic story of Bruce Wayne unfold, as he travels along a dark and brutal road to become The Batman, dark scourge of the unjust.

I'll say only two more things about this story and the tone of the film. The narrative and the look, feel, and tone of Batman Begins is serious and grounded in reality. Not a stylized or slightly-different reality that we might see around us if we just squint a little, but a dark, gritty, and yet vibrant world that is indeed ours. Gotham City in Batman Begins is in fact Chicago, with some digital enhancements. The Batman's outfit, gear, mode of operation, and even the Batmobile are all grounded solidly in believably authentic contexts. I won't spoil how and why that is, but let me just say that at no point did I ever scratch my head and say, "Now really, there's no way that could exist."

Finally, the story of Batman Begins is fascinating and engrossing. I honestly can't say that about any of the other Bat-films, which were entertaining in a farcical or fantastic sort of way. Screenwriter David Goyer and director Christopher Nolan have woven a story about living, breathing people, who we not only understand but care about. During one of the early scenes of the film, detailing the tragedy that befalls Bruce Wayne's parents, I found myself tearing up a bit at the plight of young Bruce. The story of this film is that well-written and human. This is not a movie about over-the-top or gaudy villains and their meaningless histrionics. Batman Begins is about Bruce Wayne's emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual journey to becoming The Batman. You will feel for him and for those close to him and even for those who are at odds with him.

Even though this film is centered on the story of Bruce Wayne and The Batman, there remains room for a brilliant and talented supporting cast. Liam Neeson brings wonderful life to Ducard, Bruce Wayne's mentor. Michael Caine finally plays an Alfred Pennyworth who has more to say and do than just ask obvious questions of the hero and fetch tea and sandwiches. Morgan Freeman shines as Wayne Enterprises employee Lucius Fox, who is instrumental in the birth of The Dark Knight.

For me, though, the real magic of Batman Begins was in Christian Bale's performance as Bruce Wayne and The Batman. For the first time on screen, Bruce Wayne is a complex and intriguing character. Bale brilliantly nuances the two Bruce Waynes, one the bored and laxadaisacal playboy fop, the other, the brilliant and driven young man in search of a means to fight injustice. As The Batman, Bale explodes with energy and might. His Batman voice is a harsh whisper at some times, while at other times it bursts into an angry and vicious growl. This change in tone is essential for this portrayal of The Batman, who we only get small glimpses of in action. The Batman is more a feral and stalking creature than superhero, filmed and played like the monster in the first “Alien” film. This is how The Batman was first conceived way back in the late 40’s, a terrifying and brutal creature of the night. Additionally, Batman is called “The Batman,” as I refer to him here, which is in fact the full name of the character. Adding the article before “Batman” provides a mystique and dangerous edge to the character, and I’m glad that the filmmakers made certain that our hero is called “The Batman” throughout the film.

The action in Batman Begins is exciting but not overly showy or pretentious. This movie is about characters and their struggles and triumphs, not ill-conceived set pieces that ultimately fall flat and reek of too much CGI fakeness and bombast. That said, know that you action lovers out there will be very satisfied with the intelligent and explosive action, which is well-paced throughout.

My only problems with the film will be slight to those of you who are not avid readers of The Batman’s comic book adventures. One of the elements often overlooked about the character is that he has a keen intellect to match his superb physical prowess. The Batman was, from day one, intended to succeed Sherlock Holmes as The World’s Greatest Detective. In my opinion, we should’ve seen Bruce Wayne learning the ways of detection alongside martial arts combat, and The Batman should’ve had to show the mettle of his brilliant mind in unraveling the wrongdoing of his enemies. The other problem I had was a minor one, concerning the weapon of the villain towards the end of the film. I felt that such a device was out of place in an otherwise realistic and gritty film, and feel it could’ve been replaced with the other predicament which befalls the good people of Gotham and their gallant protector. These are small complaints, however, and in no way detract from this film.

To sum up, I can’t recommend Batman Begins enough. There weren’t enough people in attendance at the showing I went to, but I think the early hour and the day contributed to the small numbers. So please, get out there this weekend and enjoy Batman Begins. The final moments of the film lay the foundation for a follow-up or two in a sequence ripped from one of the greatest Batman stories ever told. Let’s make sure we get to see that fantastic sequel in a few years. Thanks for listening and reading, Christopher Meaux, Ramblings


The Batman, finally portrayed on film as a terrifying creature of the night, shakes down corrupt cop Flass in an intense scene from Batman Begins.


The Master of Fear, The Scarecrow, one of the foes set to oppose The Dark Knight and destroy Gotham City in Batman Begins.

Why You Should Watch Yet Another Batman Movie

The Batman, or has he's more commonly known, just "Batman." The Dark Knight Detective. The Caped Crusader. Beloved since the Spring of 1939. Yeah, that's right. He's been around for almost seventy years. In countless incarnations through the decades, we've all come to know something about this enduring character. Billionaire Bruce Wayne, who watches, powerless, as a two-bit thug guns down his parents in cold blood, uses the dark fury, rage, and brokenness within himself to fuel a personal crusade that leads him across the world to discover a means of fighting the very evil that took his parents. At that journey's end is the discovery of a means to fight injustice and the birth of The Batman.

Thus, it's the journey from orphaned and devastated boy to Dark Knight that makes the newest Batman film worth seeing. By now, you've seen or heard something of this new film, entitled Batman Begins. And indeed, he does begin. This film, which many are labeling the "fifth" Batman movie, has absolutely NOTHING to do with the previous films, except, of course, The Batman and those familiar parts of his world that make their way into any incarnation of the character.

Thus, this is not a prequel, as the latest Star Wars films. It is a bona fide "reboot," as we say in the genre. It's a restart of the Batman film mythos. And as such, I believe it will succeed as no other Batman film--or superhero film, for that matter--has before. Batman Begins, unlike its predecessors, is grounded in reality as much as possible. I'm sure you all remember the previous Batman films. The old series, which is now quite dated and hard to re-watch, began with 1989's Batman, starring Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson. The movie really should have been called "Joker," because Nicholson's ego demanded that The Joker outshine the guy they happened to name the film after. Though Batman '89 was, at the time of its release and for a time after, considered by most fans to be a good Batman movie, it was still never seen as a great Batman movie. The three sequels that followed sucked what goodness the first film had (and it wasn't that much) and destroyed the franchise. Batman Returns was dark for the sake of being dark and yet again made Batman a supporting cast member in his own world. Batman Forever was a little better, but yet again, even new Batman Val Kilmer couldn't make the character interesting enough to take center stage. Jack Nicholson II, a.k.a., Jim Carrey, stole the show in Forever with his over-the-top and now cringe-worthy performance as The Riddler.

Of course, the greatest insult to the legacy of The Batman was 1997's Batman and Robin. Folks, I've been a comic book reader all my life, and for almost all of that time, The Batman has been one of if not my favorite character. I never thought I'd walk out of a Batman movie. But in the middle of Batman and Robin, I had to. It was tough love. Had I realized the horror awaiting me, I'd have never even contributed to this travesty's box office with my cash. From George Clooney's bobble-head Batman, replete with Bat-credit card and Bat-ice skates, to Arnold Schwarzenneger's horrible one-liners and Alicia Silverstone's extremely annoying Batgirl, this film is worse than the contents of a pumped stomach after a visit to a Chinese buffet. If anyone tells you this film isn't that bad, they're quite right. It's unbelievably, almost impossibly, worse. We comic book and comic book movie fans continue to this day to refer to really bad comic-to-screen adaptations as "yet another Batman and Robin." Highly overrated Halle Berry's Catwoman is a more recent version of Batman and Robin, a comic book movie that says, "ah, screw the comic book. We just want to use the name".

Seriously, folks, it's because of Batman and Robin that we've gone almost a decade without a new Batman film. And that's just not right, because we're talking about The Batman here. He's extremely cool. Anyone of us could be a Batman or Batwoman. That's the allure of the character. Any of us could fall prey to great tragedy and decide to mold ourselves into something and someone new in the aftermath of loss. So, there's absolutely no reason why the Batman film franchise had to the way of Batman and Robin. Thankfully, tomorrow marks the release of Batman Begins. But why should you really care? Even if you aren't a Bat-purist like myself, you have to be alive and somewhat intelligent to be reading this. Thus, you had to be aware of the horror unfolding before you in "Batman and Robin." After watching that, you probably decided "Hey, I'm not a comic geek, so I don't really care about Batman beyond watching a movie anyway. And this movie stunk. So I don't care about Batman anymore."

I honestly don't blame you. But let me assure you, as a man who spends hours a day reading reports of the production and development of genre and comic book films, Batman Begins is worth your precious time and hard-earned coin. Let me just toss out some of the cast to you. Liam Neeson. Morgan Freeman. Gary Oldman. Three of the greatest dramatic actors of the last twenty years. And they're in a Batman movie. And they play it as straight as "Rob Roy," Se7en," and "Immortal Beloved," respectively. Add to that Ken Watanabe, (pronounced "wah-TAH-nah-be"), who many of you remember from his breakout role as Katsumoto from "The Last Samurai," who plays Ra's Al Ghul, one of the truly great if not popularly-known Batman comic villains, and Michael Caine as loyal butler and surrogate father Alfred Pennyworth, and you have an amazingly rich cast for a "comic book movie."

The real star of Batman Begins, however, is Christian Bale. He's been in a few small movies, like "American Psycho," Equilibrium," and "Reign of Fire." He's best known to horror and thriller fans because of "American Psycho." What's best about Bale is that he finally gives us The Batman we've never had. He's young, buff, and is an amazingly talented actor. His performance is critical to this film, which has sought since day one to make The Batman THE main character of the film. Who'd have thunk it, huh? Batman being the star of a movie with "Batman" in the title. But Christopher Nolan, who directed the excellent and ground-breaking "Memento" and the brilliant "Insomnia," starring Al Pacino and Robin Williams, didn't want to make a Batman film unless he could make one that made the audience care more about Batman than any other character. Screenwriter David Goyer, who wrote the popular "Blade" films, wrote the screenplay for Batman Begins and had the same goal in mind. Thus, we get a Batman movie that will give more screen and story time to the development of the Bruce Wayne character, and to the birth of The Batman. And as you'll see when I discuss this more in depth in tomorrow's review, this Batman is rooted in reality. The Bat-suit, gear, and the Batmobile itself don't just appear out of nowhere as mere plot devices. We'll see their origin and purpose, and learn where and how Bruce Wayne found these improbable machines and gadgets and re-tooled them for his crime-fighting purposes.

As mentioned previously, I will be viewing the first showing of Batman Begins here in Lafayette. I'll be writing a spoiler-free review for anyone interested in reading it. Thanks for reading. Meauxses


The new Batmobile, which in Batman Begins is a military vehicle "customized" by Bruce Wayne in his struggle against injustice as The Batman.



My favorite of the slew of Batman Begins posters. Batman Begins re-starts the Batman film franchise and opens tomorrow, June 15th, 2005.