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Somehow - shockingly - that kind casual malfeasance comes easily to Mr. Nicholson.

And speaking of malfeasance - does anybody remember what The Joker’s big evil plan was? Don’t worry, I won’t spoil it, although if you haven’t seen this movie yet I don’t understand why you’re taking the time to read an article about it. Nonetheless, my point here is that this is a small, personal film between a good guy who throws people from rooftops to their deaths, and a villain who...well...actually does the same thing. Tim Burton’s “Batman” is moderately violent, but not in the way action films are today. This is not the antimatter explosion of guitar licks and bald eagle feathers that is a Michael Bay film. And (thank you God) it’s not the contemptuously morbid deconstruction of your childhood that is the world of Zack Snyder.

The fate of the planet is not at stake, there is no time travel, the Sydney Opera House and the Eiffel Tower do not get destroyed, and at no time does the hero appear shirtless. This is a $45 million opera about a guy dressed as a bat and a guy dressed as a clown, fighting for control of the same city. And, somewhere in the middle of it is Kim Basinger, shrieking like Kate Capshaw the entire time. I suppose I should mention that she appears as Vicki Vale, an intrepid reporter with an annoyingly alliterative appellation who takes an interest in the Batman. Yes, she’s THAT character, the inquisitive female who yearns to get closer to both the hero AND his tormented inner soul.

And yes, this already bland as dry white toast character is played by Kim Basinger.

The most generous thing I can say about her performance is that it is (mercifully) limited to the film’s runtime. Yes - I am saying that the only way it could be worse is if after you finished watching the movie, Kim Basinger herself followed you around for the rest of the week and started screaming every time you tried to talk to her. It took two screenwriters to come up with this character, but in everyone’s defense it was still the '80s. I assume male screenwriters just sat around for hours, wringing their hands and pulling their hair out in clumps, exclaiming things like “I don’t know, what do girls USUALLY say when stuff happens?”

Maybe that’s why they always settled on screaming. I won’t even mention the film’s visual effects, because they’re mostly terrible and I don’t want to sound mean about a movie I really like. Plus, as irony would have it, what was the biggest superhero movie of its day has many charming virtues that have long since gone missing from the genre. Things like simplicity and charm. Or distinction enough to feel like a unique experience - rather than just the latest two hour long, computer generated blur of explosions that we’re apparently going to get ten of every year until time finally comes to a stop and God is the only one still watching.

Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to raise my hand and proclaim myself a victim of superhero fatigue. No - not a victim - a survivor. And I did it by going back to basics and taking in one of the pioneering examples of the form. I’m not saying that Batman is without its flaws, nor am I saying I’d necessarily prefer that kind of film over what we have now. But there’s something to be said for simplicity. There’s something to be said for making an intentional effort to tell a good story, rather than relying on fanservice, special effects or clever stunt casting to trick your audience into enjoying themselves. I’m not sure Tim Burton understood Batman any better than Zack Snyder, but he did a much better job of crafting a simple, fun, engaging superhero adventure that doesn’t quite succeed on EVERY level, but never bites off more than it can chew.

Bigger isn’t always better. I think that’s something we all can learn from.

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