Batman 1989

"I'm of a mind to make some mooky. Phonebook."

                                                         -- The Joker

Tim Burton's Batman opened at the North American box office 32 years ago today. It remains one of the most viviv movie-going experiences I've ever had, or will have. Paradoxically, that day, now over three decades ago, seems like ancient history and also as if it had happened. yesterday.

In those seemingly halcyon days of the late nineteen-eighties, superhero movies were not as commonplace as they are today. Getting something like the 1989 Batman movie was a real treat. It arrived at a time when I was an avid comic book reader. Marvel was my brand of choice, with Thor, Captain America, Spider-Man, and The Avengers as my monthly stalwarts. Batman is a DC comic, yet I was still very much stoked for this modernized version of his silver screen arrival.

In preparation for seeing the movie, I read the novelization. More like devoured it. I finished the novel in about two or three sittings, and my enjoyment of the film wasn't ruined one bit by knowing the overall arc of the storyline. In fact, it helped add to the feeling that this was an event, something to be excited about.

And excited I was on opening weekend. The movie was playing in downtown Champaign, at the Virginia Theatre, one of those old movie palaces that still, thankfully, operates to this day. Back then, it was a first-run movie house, with a massive screen and seating capacity of approximately 1500. It was the perfect place to see Batman on the big screen.

My friend Derrick and I rode our bikes downtown on that hot summer day in 1989. The line to get into the theater stretched around the block, all the way to Terre Haute. There were mostly people our age -- Derrick and I were both 13 at the time. So, there we were, a horde of mostly teenage boys, baking in the fierce sunlight, talking amongst ourselves as we waited for the theatre staff to let us in.

Once inside, I don't remember much until the auditorium lights dimmed and the opening credits began to roll. We probably purchased some concessions, and there were no doubt trailers in advance of the film, but all I remember is the Warner Bros logo appearing on the galaxy-sized screen, followed by the visually swooping credit sequence, accompanied by Danny Elfman's confident score. I felt as though I were actually inside the trenches of the Batman logo. Then there was the opening scene, where Batman confronts a criminal on a rooftop. "Who are you?!" cries the lawbreaker. "I'm Batman," growls our dark knight.

There were so many memorable scenes in that movie: when Vicki Vale and her reporter friend, Knox, meet Bruce Wayne at Wayne Manor, and the stupendously rich host tells Alfred to "give Knox a grant"; the scenes with Jack Palance, smooth as silk as the crime boss (until the Joker dispatches him later on); the Joker's dance of defacement through the Gotham museum; Prince's awesome songs (Arms of Orion being an underrated gem); Elfman's lush score; and the big, deadly parade scene at the end, situated in the canyon-like streets of Gotham City. It was all so much for my 13-year-old mind to wrap itself around.

Of course, not everything went smoothly when it came to Batman that summer. I really wanted the soundtrack, that collection of awesome tracks by Prince. So, one day, I decided the best course of action would be to hop on my bicycle, and trek out to the mall (approximately 3 miles from my house). There was a Camelot Music store there, and I just knew they would have the cassette tape of Prince's Batman soundtrack in stock.

I made it about 2 miles, and was hit by car. My fault. I absent-mindedly rode my bike out into the intersection against the signal, and -- wham! Police and an ambulance showed-up. Thankfully, the ambulance wasn't needed, but I had a few scrapes and bruises, so the nice police officer drove me to the nearest E/R so I could get checked-out. Someone notified my mom, who met me at the hospital She was both worried and angry. Mom asked why I'd been on my bike so far from home. "To get the new Batman soundtrack," I'd responded, sheepishly. She wasn't too pleased.

Later in the year, the movie was released on video cassette, and I was able to convince mom to pre-order it, so there would be a guaranteed copy waiting for me at the Camelot Music store. This time, she drove me out to the mall to pick it up. Watching it at home wasn't the same as the seeing it on the big screen that glorious summer day, but it was still fun.

1989 was a really solid year for movies, with my favorites being The 'Burbs, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and, of course, Batman, I saw the two former films three times each at the movie theater, but the latter only once. Once was all I needed. Nothing could top that magical experience, at the Virginia, with Derrick, and the crowd of enthusiastic peers, eager to see Batman on the big screen. Indeed, very few filmgoing occasions since then have been quite as special.