'The Dark Knight' or 'Why I'm Going to Feel Sorry For Bec Next Thursday Night'

Next Thursday sees the release of Christopher Nolan's 'The Dark Knight', possibly my most anticipated movie of the year, which is saying something in a year that has already seen a new Indiana Jones movie (Damn good, bad work with the monkeys though, Spielbergo & Co), 'Iron Man' (awesome) and 'The Incredible Hulk' (mean and green, the way I like it), amongst numerous other films.

By all accounts the movie is amazing in all departments, easily exceeding the original. Indeed, Kevin Smith has already touted it as being as good a sequel as 'Godfather II' was to its prequel on his blog (http://www.myspace.com/therealkevinsmith) and one of my favourite reviewers, Garth Franklin over at Dark Horizons (http://www.darkhorizons.com/reviews/darkknight.php) has gone apeshit mental, suffered a brain explosion and suggested that it's the best movie of the year so far, or possibly of the year full stop.

In short, it appears that this movie has been created to rock my fucking socks off. Although I try not to overly hype movies before I see them these days, for fear of being let down, I am finding it very difficult not to get psychotically worked up about 'The Dark Knight'.

Why is this leading me to feel sorry for my beautiful wife? Well, several reasons:

1. She often sits patiently through my explanations of why this episode of 'Doctor Who' was cool, how well-written 'Battlestar Galactica' is and what's happening in this month's issue of 'Amazing Spider-Man'. She does all this despite having no personal interest whatsoever in these subjects.
   
2. She's coming to the movie next Thursday with a bunch of geeks who are realistically going to be behaving like giddy schoolgirls before, after and during the movie. Not a cool move for anyone with a modicum of self-respect, which she has.
3. She has to sit next to me during the movie and try her best to block out my continual little squeals of delight or, better still, try to pretend like she doesn't know me.
4. I'll probably hold her hand during the movie and, I'm not going to lie, I tend to get pretty sweaty hands when I'm watching a movie I'm engrossed in. Even worse, I sometimes squeeze too tightly when I'm excited.

So to my lovely, immensely patient and very understanding wife, I apologise profusely in advance for the wet and broken hand that you're more than likely going to have next Thursday night. Batman made me do it!