Well, a great movie if you think that DC comics are great literature. A plot with more holes than swiss cheese, with a level of intelligence and sophistication one might expect of a junior high school student (now exactly why were the Joker's handcuffs removed?). And let's not forget the de rigeur finale in an abandoned building and the laughable pseudoscience of the cell phone triangulation nonsense. Why were most of the "action scenes" filmed at such close distance that there is no sense of the entire scene, just close ups of cartoon characters getting struck, maimed, killed. (Apparently depictions of sadism are now a high art form.) And what a clever ploy to replace wit and intelligence in screenplay with interspersed explosions. After all, the louder the better, right? Please, give us back Michael Keaton. What made filmmakers like Hitchcock great was not their "boom boom" graphic depiction of violence but rather an ability to use film to engender tension and suggest violence by subtlety and anticipation in the minds of the viewer. Judging from the general acclaim to which this film has been received here and elsewhere, apparently today's moviegoers prefer to be literally hit on the head than be fed images and ideas that might grow in the head.