let’s face it. practically 99.9% of movie buffs who watch The Dark Knight are not particularly crazy about Batman, no matter how smoulderingly suave Christian Bale is. Nor is everyone drooling over the 500-in-one Batmobile, nor his skin-tight Batsuit, nor his Batpowers. the film might as well be re-titled The Joker, cos that’s what i paid eleven bucks for. when i heard that this was Heath Ledger’s swansong, i knew i had to watch it. and my eleven bucks were a great investment.

throughout the movie, i lay reclined with my eyes half-closed, only sitting straight alert and attentive when the Joker, the villian, took the screen. he was the villain’s villain. he was cold, ruthless and funny. i also picked up some make-up tips for Halloween from him. at the end, i was rooting for him to win. standing beside the Joker, Batman’s ridiculous, crotch-gripping suit seemed very worthless. batman may emerged victorious in the script, but in the minds and hearts of all who’ve watched it, batman was left in the cold, whimpering, gripping his black plasticised cock. the Joker was magnificent. He was the true winner.

“you complete me,” Joker tells Batman, sadistically borrowing a sappy line from Jerry Maguire. oh yes, the Joker completes all of us. and heath’s life wouldn’t be fittingly completed if he didn’t at least get an Oscar nomination.

i’ve watched a few of Heath’s films, including Brokeback Mountain, Candy, Casanova, Four Feathers and Ned Kelly. i can tell you that going from golden gay cowboy, to promiscuous womanising hottie to insane psychotic is not easy. now, months after his death, staring at his ghostly face filling the entire screen in the cinema, i knew what Hollywood had lost. a true actor, the last of its kind. here’s to you, heath.

The Joker

 

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