In the wake of the Fan Voted Oscar fiasco, it’s worth asking “what makes a blockbuster art?” It’s not like a big budget extravaganza can’t be artistically groundbreaking – Jaws was as much about political corruption and human survival as it was a giant killer shark. Yet as fun as recent superhero movies and blockbusters might be, there’s nothing artistic about them. They’re the same stories, shot the same way, with nothing to say beyond surface level observations of the world around them and about good and evil. That’s what makes Matt Reeves’ take on The Batman not only unique, but inspiring. It’s not only one of the best superhero movies out there, or the best version of The Dark Knight we’ve seen onscreen. It’s arguably the best action movie we’ve seen since Max Rockatansky drove a war rig through the Australian desert.

On Halloween night, two years after Bruce Wayne (Robert Pattinson) first donned a cowl and called himself The Batman, the mayor of the ever-decrepit Gotham City is brutally murdered. A clue at the crime scene, addressed to The Batman, identifies the killer as The Riddler (Paul Dano), a devious psychopath with a penchant for rhymes, who promises to continue killing major political figures in the city. Yet solving the Riddler’s puzzles only leads the Caped Crusader further down the rabbit hole, into a conspiracy that involves the Gotham City Mafia, its elected officials, almost every police officer in the city – even the Wayne legacy is at stake. It will take everything in Batman’s power to defeat his dangerous opponent – although he won’t have to do it alone, thanks to the one cop he’s able to trust, James Gordon (Jeffrey Wright), and the mysterious roommate of a potential witness, the feline-loving Selina Kyle (Zoë Kravitz).

The Batman is filled with great decision after great decision, starting with Reeve’s choice to portray the film as a rain-soaked film noir. It’s kind of shocking we don’t have more film noirs coming out in this day and age – the genre reflects a world fed up with the corruption that surrounds it. It’s why the post-Great Depression 40s gave us the Golden Era, while the Watergate-obsessed 70s gave us the neo-noir era. We are now living in the wake of two failed presidencies and the corruption of almost every single major institution out there (the banks, the pharmaceutical companies, the police, etc.), and yet a comic book character offers up our first true grappling with this reality.

Reeves shows us a world where everyone, from the police to the bankers to the politicians, is on the take, and the only hope a city stricken with poverty and a drug epidemic can muster is that the masked vigilante will only terrify the villainous, and not the virtuous. It makes for not only a riveting Batman movie, but a more riveting movie overall.

It also helps that Reeves and Pattinson offer up the best cinematic depiction to date (with the exception of only Adam West, untouchable in his perfection). Everything seems on a higher level this time out – Batman’s skills as a detective, the look of the fight sequences (gone are the days of an immobile head and the series of quick-cut fake punches Nolan provided), and beyond. This is because the filmmakers understand the complexity of this character in a way no film totally has before. Oh, sure, Keaton understood the character’s insanity, and Affleck understood his underpinning suicidal tendencies, and Bale captured Batman’s innate goodness. But no film has managed to put all of these traits together in quite this way.

It helps that Pattinson has Dano’s take on The Riddler to play off of – Reeves takes great pleasure in comparing Batman’s violent vigilantism with The Riddler’s vengeful murders. They even use the same spyware when watching/stalking their targets. By drawing this comparison, it forces Batman to do something he hasn’t done in any film to date: grow. This is a film about Batman – not to mention the secluded Bruce Wayne – learning the importance of inspiring change, as opposed to inspiring fear. This is a flawed hero, one who is forced to learn and grow along the way. And it makes for a better superhero story because of it.

Now, The Batman isn’t a perfect feature by any means. In fact, its flaws in its full-stuffed three-hour runtime are plentiful. Some are minor nitpicks, like the fact that, in an effort to make this film more “gritty,” Batman’s first targeted criminals are a bunch of teens playing The Knockout Game – you know, that made up news story from ten years ago designed to scare Boomers. Some are larger gripes that don’t distract from the story, but are too noticeable to ignore, like Pattinson’s attempt to replicate a film noir detective voiceover that sounds more like Harrison Ford’s drunken attempt to sabotage Blade Runner.

And some are rather massive, like the film’s bloated third act that feels so forced, you can almost hear the producers begging Reeves to add more action. It’s clearly not something Reeves and co-screenwriter Peter Craig were passionate about – the writing drastically goes downhill at this point (The Riddler’s early terrifying social media posts quite literally devolve into “Hey guys, like and subscribe” territory), and the premise is convoluted beyond the breaking point. However, even this is not fatal to the film’s premise, as Reeves directs the film’s final act so well, you’re willing to overlook almost any flaw.

In fact, Reeves’ direction is superb throughout the entire film. Every choice made by every department not only makes the story and premise more believable, it also makes it more fun – no matter how dour it tries to convince you it may be. Need proof? Look at the film’s first reveal of The Dark Knight. Ever bit of the sequence is impeccable – Michael Giacchino’s score (a high point throughout the film), William Hoy and Tyler Nelson’s editing, the use of light and shadow, all of it. It’s some of the finest blockbuster filmmaking you’ll ever see.

Unlike Marvel’s overdone, effects-heavy action sequences, or Nolan’s quick-cut, ham-fisted exchanges (combat was always those films’ weak link), Reeves’ action is impeccable, elevated by the increasingly fascinating locales – a rain-soaked subway, inside a gangster rave, the rafters of a megaplex, and beyond. Not only that, the action is used to tell a story – the Catwoman/Batman fight sequences are some of the sexiest material in a comic book film since…well, since Michelle Pfeiffer and Michael Keaton.

And all of this is elevated by cinematographer Greig Fraser (fresh off of Dune, for which he is now certain to win an Academy Award), whose work here is awe-inspiring. Not only is the film filled with gorgeous, scope-capturing shots of a city on the edge and a hilariously Gothic Wayne Manor in the middle of said city, it also finds ways to break new ground in well-trodden territory. Fraser puts us first-person in some of the film’s most jaw-dropping action sequences, often for breathtaking effect. I personally gasped out loud when Batman tries to glide for the first time and the camera puts us right in the action. There’s simply never been a blockbuster on this scale in a long time.

I also want to credit Reeves for his ability to tip his hat to the great films to come before without resorting to gimmicky stolen plots or camera angles. One of the primary issues with 2019’s Oscar-winning Joker was the way it basically just remade The King of Comedy but with a clown at its core. Reeves draws parallels to his favorite film noirs to make us associate with the genre, but still decides to remain an independent, original story in its own right. And because of this, the allusions elevate the film, as opposed to hindering it.

The opening scene, watching The Riddler stalk and murder Mayor Don Mitchell (Rupert Penry-Jones), features allusions to The Conversation and Zodiac. And the climactic Batmobile chase isn’t just the best the classic vehicle has ever looked onscreen – it’s the best car chase since at least The Bourne Supremacy, and easily stands tall with The French Connection and Bullitt. It demonstrates that while Reeves understands and reveres the classics, he’s confident enough to make his own product that emulates them, as opposed to recycling plot points and camera angles. In short, it’s a treat for casual viewers and students of cinema alike.

In terms of the acting, the entire ensemble varies on a scale from good to great. Pattinson is solid, if young in the role of the Caped Crusader. He gets the brooding nature of the character, even if there aren’t many refined layers to the performance just yet. One thing he does bring to the role, which I greatly appreciated, was a bit of stupidity – it’s not that he plays Batman as dumb. It’s just that the classic noir hero constantly undermines his own brilliance with a mix of naïveté and cockiness, especially when it comes to his lust for the femme fatale.

Speaking of, Kravitz is the film’s true beating heart. This was the role she was born to play, dominating each scene with a vengeance as the cynical femme fatale known as Catwoman. Together, the duo have an undeniable chemistry that elevates the film to the point that her absence is noticeable and disappointing.

As for Dano, he doesn’t get a lot of time to ACT, but he makes the most of his scenes – and a few in particular are frighteningly brilliant. Wright seems to be spot on in his casting as James Gordon, world-weary in his position as the only good man in a sea of crooked cops and politicians. I’m not entirely sure that Andy Serkis works as butler Alfred – the film doesn’t really know what to do with him – but he’s having a blast, so good for him. And character actor Peter Saarsgard shows up to elevate a minor role as the Gotham District Attorney.

But if there are two actors I felt truly understood the film’s assignment, perfectly balancing real-world horror with a sense of theatrical panache (think Jack Nicholson in the original 1989 version), it’s John Turturro and especiallyColin Farrell. Turturro plays sleazy mob boss Carmine Falcone like a side character from Goodfellas missed his cue and came barrelling through Dick Tracy to get here – which is to say, I loved it. But it’s Farrell who’s reallycommitted to the project. Not only does he undergo unrecognizable prosthetics to appear as a deformed street tough – he commits everything, from the voice to the movements to the posture, to playing The Penguin as a Tony Soprano knockoff. The only shock with this bold decision is that it works, and works as well as it does.

The Batman is the type of bold Hollywood blockbuster we’ve been missing these last few years. It is not without its flaws. It’s bloated, and dark, and that third act definitely struggles. But here’s the thing: that first two thirds is so awe-inspiring, and that third act is so well directed, that it doesn’t matter. Its flaws are easy to overlook and bold enough to admire. And when a film is that dedicated to giving you never-before-seen action in a story told conservatively five times already, there’s little choice but to applaud. The Batman isn’t just the Batman movie we’ve been waiting for; it’s the Batman movie we deserve.

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The Batman is now playing in theaters; it will be on HBO Max around April 17^th