Holy picture show, Batman!

So I've had nearly 24 hours to digest "The Dark Knight," the new installment in the Batman franchise, now directed by Christopher Nolan.

Here's what I'd say: Brilliant. Amazing. Unbelievable. Stunning.

Even all that, somehow, seems inadequate.

This is a wonderful film. Mainly thanks to the late Heath Ledger, and his absolutely fantastic portrayal of the Joker. Let me get this out of the way quickly: if Ledger doesn't win an Academy Award, that process has become a bigger joke than the Heisman Trophy.

But, beyond that, "The Dark Knight" transcends the comic book genre, and becomes something quite good, something to savor, something to think about on cold, rainy winter days. It's the best -- by far -- of the "Batman" movies made to date, and I dare say is the best film ever adapted from a comic book.

Here's the thing: Ledger drowns himself so much into this role that you forget all about Heath Ledger. Ditto Christian Bale and Batman/Bruce Wayne. Back in '89, when Batmania swept the nation for the first time since the Adam West heyday of the mid-60s, I couldn't get it out of my head that I was watching Michael Keaton. You don't have that problem here.

In this outing, the Caped Crusader is overshadowed in the hearts of the Gotham faithful by the hot-shot new district attorney, Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). Dent is promising to rid the city of the crooks and hoodlums who are overrunning the joint. Many, in fact, have come to view Batman as a nuisance, a vigilante, more of a hindrance than a help.

Dent has even stolen Batman's girl, Rachel Dawes, played here by a mighty fine Maggie Gyllenhaal, who takes over for the departed Katie Holmes. Lt. Gordon (Gary Oldman) is back, as is the great Michael Caine as Alfred the Butler and the peerless Morgan Freeman as Lucias Fox, the keeper of the Batcave.

And that's about as far as I'm going with plot summary. Ledger's Joker raises hell, has a great time in the process, and we love watching it. I didn't think it was possible to outshine Jack Nicholson, put Ledger makes you forget all about Jack's decent turn as the Clown Prince of Crime in Tim Burton's earlier flick. Eckhart's turn as Two Face won't haunt your dreams, but it's a nice surprise.

I can't say one bad thing about this movie. It doesn't fall apart in the middle or sink at the end, as so many of these things do (think about the last third of "Superman Returns.") It holds your attention despite a lengthy running time. It makes you forget all about what you have to do tomorrow, which, after all, is the point of a summer blockbuster.

Blockbuster this is, but let's not downgrade it by trying to lump the movie in with the usual crap that comes out when school's out. No, "The Dark Knight" is something to remember, something to put on the top shelf of the DVD closet. It's damn fine moviemaking, too. I can't wait for the next one.

That's enough, though, because my pitiful words can't do it justice. Just go see it. And, after that's done, go see it again.

It's that good, folks.

Resurrecting the western (and having fun doing it)

Finally...

Nick and I ducked into the Downtown Grill just after 6 tonight. They'd moved the host table to the right side of the entrance. But we found it.

The server sat us upstairs. Nick could see three TVs. Still, nothing was on, he said.

All I got was the bar, Fox News on one TV and a view of a woman sitting across the way.

I got the better end of the deal.

Nick ordered a Coke and chicken fingers. I asked for a Blonde and a barbecue pizza.

But we weren't here to eat. Not really. We were going to the movies.

Regal Entertainment has built a big, nice, spiffy looking theater right smack dab in the middle of downtown. I didn't see a speck of dust anywhere. Even the bathrooms are top notch. I thought the automatic blow dryers were going to rip my skin right off my hands.

The film was "3:10 to Yuma," James Mangold's brilliant, mighty fine update of Delmer Daves' 1957 western classic. I said "finally" at the beginning of this blog because this -- finally -- is the movie I had convinced myself that Hollywood couldn't make anymore.


Oh, what a picture it is.

"Yuma" is the story of an outlaw, a likable, downright enigmatic outlaw, named Ben Wade. Played to perfection by the venerable Russell Crowe, you love Wade and hate him too -- sometimes all at the same time.

Wade is captured and sent to the town of Contention, where he has an appointment with the 3:10 train to Yuma prison. Dan Evans (Christian Bale) is the poor farmer who signs on (the reason isn't as obvious as you might think) to help bring Wade to justice.

How cheap that synopsis sounds, though, because "3:10 to Yuma" isn't anywhere near a standard western. Oh, no. It throws all those cliches you've grown to know and love (or hate) on their ear. It's peppered with religious symbolism, ambiguous human motivation, drama, quiet reflection and a whole lot of other things.

At its heart, "Yuma" is Dan Evans's story. Evans essentially agrees to transport Wade to get the $200 reward the railroad offers him. His farm is drying up from a drought. A local magnate wants his land for the coming railroad. Evans has a wife, two sons -- one with TB -- and, as he says, is "tired of seeing my boys go hungry."

But, like a lot of foolish things people do, his motivation isn't so crystal clear. Evans sets off for Contention for deeper, darker reasons.

He's limping from one leg, lost in the war. But he's no hero. His oldest son William (Logan Lerman) doesn't respect him. Neither -- maybe -- does his wife Alice (Gretchen Mol).

No, friends, what Evans is really after is redemption, the desire to have his son look at him with pride, the chance, finally, to hold his head up.

It's Crowe, though, who has the real tour de force in this film. His Ben Wade is the most likable villain since, well, Glenn Ford's take on Ben Wade 50 years ago. Oh, he has fun. And, oh, is it indeed a joy to watch him act.

Bale, given a difficult, brooding part to play, is quite good too. So is young Lerman, who should have a long career ahead of him.

I ducked into the Riviera not believing this cast and crew could make me forget about the original "3:10 to Yuma." But guess what, y'all?

They did. Not only that, they've given me hope that both the western, and the thoughtful Hollywood movie, may not be dead after all.

"3:10 to Yuma" is now playing at theaters everywhere. It is rated R for violence, language, adult situations and gore.