Summer Watchin'

Summer time and the living isn't so easy. There's the end of the world to worry about, either from flesh eating zombies or aliens with attitude. There is also some guy with a bag on his head, fighting some other guy in a rubber tire. But the most terrifying thing out there this summer isn't a creature with tentacles, it's the numbers -- and they are going down.

Call it by its real name, the slump: a monster more horrible, more insidious than all others put together.

When I saw Batman Begins, the theatre was packed with rows of Bat frats, none one of whom looked a day over 18. But while the 18-35s are still considered the target audience by marketers, their numbers are dropping.

Ads up, viewers down

It's been a bad year for big movies, a slump almost as bad as the legendary sag of '85, or so the industry types say. Whether this is the result of the general shoddiness of films, or simply another bump in the cinematic road, is unclear. Batman Begins, spending $100 million in marketing, supposedly the most ever spent on a single film, is supposed to turn it all around. A lot depends on opening grosses.

Despite its better than average pedigree (director Christopher Nolan and star Christian Bale), it's just another comic book super hero blow 'em up, shoot 'em down summer film. Sigh...Tis the season.

Hollywood churns them out, one after another and this Bathead, cut from similar swath of dark and dreary fabric, is supposedly the best the bunch. Bale plays the dark knight as just another American Psycho, a privileged rich boy who has come a little unhinged. Understandably so, having watched his parents get gunned down after a performance of Faust.

Wholesome revenge

First Faust, and now this, says the plaintive mite, while sad tears slip down his freckled cheeks. Poor widdle Bruce Wayne, he has a huge house, billions of dollars, and a butler who loves him, but it simply ain't enough.

What he really wants to do is direct some good old-fashioned revenge at the dirty rat who shot his parents. But before Bruce can kill him, said rat is gunned down by the mob. Bruce is a little put out. It takes some brisk slaps from his girl friend (Katie Holmes) to make Brucie realize just how far he has drifted from the ideals of his beloved dead dad.

So off he runs to the Far East to get a little local colour. He is rescued from a Chinese prison by a mysterious man (Liam Neeson) who promises him a path, albeit one that leads straight up the face of mountain.

'Evil Steve Burgess'

At the very top is the shrine of the League of Shadows, run by someone named Ra's Al Ghul. Although this sounds like the noise you might make if you had a chicken bone stuck in your throat, it's actually a secret society devoted to bringing down corrupt societies. (Perhaps someone ought to see what they were up to around September 11th?)

When Bruce is asked to undergo one final test, a little old thing like chopping someone's head off, he's just not that into it. He flees back to Gotham, which, as usual, is wallowing in its own filth. Oh, Gotham, Gotham, tsk, tsk! So much for urban planning, mass transit, and public housing, they haven't done much to stem the tide of ugly poor people and all the usual problems.

In addition to the mob and police corruption, there is also some hayseed named the Scarecrow causing a ruckus. Despite the name, the Scarecrow doesn't have much scare in him. Played by Irish actor Cillian Murphy, in architecturally cool specs, he looks like an evil Steve Burgess -- if you can imagine that.

Loaded with poo?

Batman Begins isn't a terrible film, it simply isn't that good. Overly long, vaguely goofy in places, and straining for gravity and dignity, it's the dignity part that is hard. You don't get that generally until you're a little bit older. You know the drill: hero, villain, calamity, woman in peril and another sequel already in the works. You can add War of the Worlds and The Fantastic Four to this posse.

There is precious little out there at the moment that would entice anyone over age 14. It certainly isn't Bewitched, or Herbie: Fully Loaded. Loaded with what you may ask, a trunk load of poo, perhaps?

While the industry wrings its hands over declining ticket sales, you have to ask, who are these movies made for? Certainly not adults, and if even teenagers are turning away, who will go to them? Anyone? Hellooo, is there anyone out there?

Even supposedly "good" movies, aren't very good this summer. Example: Heights, the final outing from Merchant Ivory. Don't let the presence of Glenn Close fool you, this film doesn't have anything of interest for anyone over 25.

'Extremely pretty and utterly dull'

The film is an adaptation of a play, and like most of those, there is a lot of chatter about emotions, the young people moan and complain, and the old people roll their eyes. And nothing much happens. The film is packed with heavy hitters -- Isabella Rossellini, Eric Bogosian, George Segal -- none of whom get to do very much.

The action is carried by the young couple at the center of the action -- Elizabeth Banks and James Marsden -- both of whom are extremely pretty and utterly dull. Isabel and Jonathan are getting married, but over the course of 24 hours, everything changes.

There are a few twists and turns, most you will see coming from about a mile off, and others don't make any sense at all. If there is an overriding sense from this movie, it is again, a sense of waste, futility even.

There are different types of waste, the Batman kind, where after the 800th explosion, you may find yourself slipping into some sort of coma, or the more serious kind, where you assemble a cast of extremely talented performers, a prestigious producer or two, and create something with absolutely no emotional resonance.

Prepare yourself for a long summer of nothing to watch. Except for the scenery, there's always that.

Dorothy Woodend reviews films for The Tyee every Friday.