The Dark Knight

I used to go to the newsagents on a Sunday with my Dad. He'd pay the paper bill and get The Express, Times and Mirror and I'd get a comic. 'Don't get a horror comic' would be the words ringing in my ear from Mum as I left the house. By this she'd mean an American Marvel Comic - Batman, Superman, Flash Gordon, Spiderman. She'd seen the dark side.

I never saw it myself until I was older; they were just good fun. Good comics. With a frisson of extra excitement because at least one of my parents thought they were inappropriate. Remember this was the 1960s. The parents of children growing up in the 1960s were either so liberal they were sharing reefers with the kids for breakfast, or tended to think everything fun was probably inappropriate.

I read and re-read my 'horror comics.' I fantasised. I mused on being Superman but who'd want X-ray vision with your gran in the room. Batman was my guy. He had financial backing for sure but his own brains and brawn were all he had. And a mission to avenge his dead parents.

This is a movie review folks. Lots of words have been written about the latest Batman. Many good. They are true. The Dark Night is the movie of the comic books. Everyone has their demons and plays to them. And the late Heath Ledger's Joker is the real deal. Serious fun. Nasty ha ha. The film is long but not over long. The CGI is good but the performances better. Even Michael Caine's Alfred seems bang on - from Alfie to Alfred. Brilliant.

And it's a 12A. With a jump in your seat thump on the window moment, some horribly scarred and injured bodies and a very scary threat of nice and nasty people being cut and deformed every ten minutes or so. I wouldn't take a junior to see it. But I loved it.