Batman and Bacon

After weeks of non-particpation, I was reminded of my deep, abiding love of taverns, so I set out last night to make up for lost time. I suppose I over-indulged. I began the evening with (512) IPA, and switched to Sierra Nevada Pale Ale when I switched bars. There may have also been a bit of Bulleit involved. We will now avoid the temptation to dwell on the fact that I'm too old to start acting my age, because there may be a chronometric conundrum lurking in the sentiment, and I wouldn't want to tempt a headache. This was all on 6th Street, near Neches in downtown Austin. I tried to spread my meager funds around several bars, and stayed too long at the fair. At one point I felt a bit hoppy, so I swiched from Sierra Nevada to Guinness. I recall, also, crushing two cockroaches with the bottom of an empty pint glass at a bar that shall remain nameless. And, at a different bar, I may have eaten an artisanal cupcake with crumbled bacon on top. Okay, I did. It was heavenly, and because it comprised my entire evening meal, I will save the guilt for more egregious transgressions. I'm sure they will come.

I found myself at Casino el Camino ensconced in a conversation with someone I do not know about the differences between Christopher Nolan's two Batman films. Because I love film, and because I spent the best part of the 60s and 70s a full-fledged comic book fanatic (long before it was acceptable) this all seemed very, very important.

I maintained (and still do) that Batman Begins is vastly superior to The Dark Knight, which I consider overrated and extremely messy. A good half-hour too long, there are simply too many storylines, too many villains, and stylistically, too many contradictions. I mean, you can't have Heath Ledger's exquisitely deconstructed Joker 2.0 in the same film with a scar-for-scar recreation of the Bob Kane Two-Face. (Okay, apparently, you can. But I still cry foul.)

I also prefer the look of the city in Batman Begins. More art direction, less Chicago. Nothing wrong with Chicago, I just prefer my Gotham City to be located at the intersection of Art and Deco -- uptown Saturday night in the land of Oz.

Not that any of this matters. I doubt if I expressed myself coherently at the time. I was still pretty hoppy. But I do recall telling the gentleman that he looked like Sam Raimi. Which he did. I just hope that's not an insult.