With but one The Batman (Robert Pattinson, his costume overacting) to keep tabs on dozens of criminals, the signal that brands the night sky takes on the dual-function of bat-summoner and criminal-beware alarm. As sure as the sun never shines anywhere in Gotham City — given their accumulated wisdom, the dumdum detectives can’t figure out how to flip on a light switch at a murder scene — all characters, good and bad, speak in the same voice. Even when they yell, they do so in whispers, as though someone other than the audience might be listening. Holy convenience-plotting, Batman! Having just met Selina Kyle (Zoë Kravitz, an icky girl in the DC boy’s club), how does Batman know where she lives and what apartment opposite hers offers a stalker the best view? For that matter, how did Riddler (Paul Dano, picking up the easiest paycheck of his career) anticipate the shootout with Carmine Falcone (John Turturro) unfolding on the street below his apartment window? I could go on, but that appears to have been director and co-writer Matt Reeves’ job. Anyone who is bat shit lazy enough to require three hours to tell this story deserves to have their Guild membership revoked. (2022) — Scott Marks
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