A curious film opportunistically rather than convincingly assembled from a medley of genres. Its title announces that here will be the creation story for its subject, and sure enough, just as Peter Parker was bitten by a spider, young Bruce Wayne is startled by a swarm of bats. Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this. Batman's sidekick Robin doesn't figure in this movie, but if and when we are introduced to him in the inevitable sequel I'm expecting a homage to Hitchcock's The Birds.

Young Bruce's dad is such a nice man that you just know that he is going to meet an untimely end, and he duly does. The grief-stricken Bruce grows up and goes out into the world seeking to understand the criminal mind. Apparently not finding enough examples in America, he ends up on a mountaintop somewhere in the Orient, where he imbibes ancient wisdoms huskily intoned by Liam Neeson in a Charlie Chan moustache. In a blur of rapid editing, Bruce becomes some kind of martial arts master. Later Neeson conveniently doubles as the movie's chief villain, proving that you don't actually have to be Oriental to be inscrutable and duplicitous. We Asians should, I suppose, be grateful for small mercies.

The grown Bruce is played by Christian Bale, whose resemblance to a young George W. Bush is uncanny and disturbing, not least in the furrowed blankness he assumes when trying to look serious. It's a relief when he dons the mask and cape (evidently not heeding Edna's warnings in The Incredibles) and collects his crime-fighting gadgets. The latter are supplied by Morgan Freeman, who in effect plays Q, adding to the growing impression that this movie is basically 007 in drag.

The movie plays itself out in a tumult of smoke, raking lights and shadows. In the manner of this genre, the script is liberally sprinkled with references to personal integrity, filial loyalty, and the nature of evil in society. Some superhero movies successfully weave these themes into their stories, as Bryan Singer's X-Men movies do. But here style is never sculpted into substance, and the villains remain as unmemorable as the heroes.

Katie Holmes is the love interest and supplies the theme of romantic abnegation that the movie shamelessly borrows from the Spiderman franchise. Gary Oldman turns in solid work as the honest cop, this time cunningly disguised as Ned Flanders. Michael Caine, himself once the supreme dispenser of ironic justice, is now content to play the faithful butler. Cillian Murphy, however, is well cast as one of Batman's adversaries, and shows that Elijah Wood has not cornered the market in wimpy fiends.

I expected more from the director of Memento. Not long ago I saw a movie featuring another troubled hero who must straddle the world of ordinary life and the dark underworld of crime, and must in the process face down his own lineup of campy villains. It was called A History of Violence, and it is a much better film.