Chapter 613: Rave Reviews

Los Angeles Theater

The screen went black, and the lights came on.

The theater erupted in applause like a roaring tsunami.

Everyone stood up.

In the front row, the main creative staff of the movie looked excitedly at the equally excited audience in the back—whether they were guests or ordinary viewers, all had the afterglow of having just experienced the film, their faces glowing. They clapped vigorously, their palms red and sore, yet unwilling to stop.

It seemed that no amount of applause could fully express their love and admiration for this movie!

"Oh my God, Martin, what have you done? What did you do? This movie of yours is a masterpiece! Do you know? A masterpiece!!"

Jack Nicholson, sitting behind Martin, pressed his shoulders hard and shook him.

Martin suspected he was deliberately retaliating.

Leonardo, sitting beside him, looked equally thrilled. "Damn, this is the best I've ever seen. The most perfect movie, the most perfect villain, the most perfect superhero movie! My God, the character of the Joker is so, so incredible!"

He couldn't find enough adjectives to describe it. He just felt that if he could play such a role even once, it would be worth it for life!

Jonathan Nolan hugged his brother tightly and roared loudly in his ear: "Look what you've done, you succeeded, you succeeded!"

Alan Horn, trying to maintain his composure, couldn't hold back his joy any longer and laughed heartily.

Avi Arad slapped his old buddy Stan Lee on the shoulder with excitement. "You were right, you were right! He's the perfect choice! It's him, it's him!!"

Stan Lee winced in pain. "Hey, that hurts!"

Will Smith clapped, pondering how to remind Martin not to forget the party—and to invite him.

Everyone was thoroughly excited, appreciating such a great film.

The applause continued, as if it would never stop.

When the main creative team came on stage, the applause became even more fervent. It wasn't until the reporters started their interviews that it began to subside.

One reporter, chosen to ask a question, jumped up with enthusiasm and said, "Congratulations to Director Nolan, congratulations to Martin, congratulations to Ben Affleck, congratulations to Warner Bros., and congratulations to Meyers Pictures. This film is so special, indescribably special! It has completely transcended the superhero genre. The film's profound themes, its exploration of human nature, and its commercial appeal have all been pushed to the extreme!"

"Unparalleled!"

"I would like to ask Director Nolan: How did you find the balance between comic book elements and serious cinema while making this film?"

After the excited reporters shared their praise, one finally asked a thoughtful question, showing their genuine admiration for the film.

Nolan, slightly composed by now, smiled and replied, "It was difficult, but we made it! Thanks to Martin's script, which gave the film its core and foundation. After reading Martin's script, I told myself, 'Forget about the comics and just make a movie.' I actually treated the Batman trilogy as a standalone film, not just a comic adaptation. It's incredible, but we succeeded. The second time!"

Another reporter stood up and asked Martin, "Mr. Meyers, what inspired you to write such a unique superhero script?"

"Maybe it's because it's fun!" Martin joked, then continued seriously, "I've watched a lot of superhero movies before. Some are entertaining, some have exciting fights, and some have great special effects, including Spider-Man, which I played myself. But honestly, I started feeling tired of them. When did superhero movies become so homogenized? So I decided to do something different." Martin then pointed to Alan Horn. "Thank you, Mr. Horn, for accepting my different Batman script. Thank you, Warner, for your support. Thank you, Director Nolan, for bringing my ideas to life in the film. And thanks to all the actors and staff—without them, this dark little bat wouldn't have existed."

Laughter erupted from the audience below.

Alan Horn, president of Warner Bros., grabbed the microphone and joked, "We were mostly afraid of offending Martin. Who doesn't know that whenever he's involved, the movie will definitely be a success, haha!"

He added, "Actually, we struggled, but Martin's past success gave us confidence, so I took a gamble. Fortunately, I won. Martin, you're one lucky guy!"

As the premiere came to a close, various reviews flooded online.

Unlike previous Martin films, which, though widely praised, also faced some criticism, The Dark Knight received nothing but rave reviews.

No negative reviews appeared online.

Both comic book fans and general moviegoers alike were ecstatic.

"A masterpiece, no doubt about it!"

"From the very first second, I was drawn into the plot and couldn't look away..."

"Martin's Joker has completely surpassed Jack Nicholson. This is the first time I've ever liked a villain so much. He's simply magnetic!"

"The action scenes are intense, the performances are superb, the car chases are thrilling, and most importantly, the story and themes are perfect. I was completely captivated."

"Sorry, Director Nolan, sorry, Martin. I thought your first film was great, but I didn't expect the second one to reach this level. Oh, wait—can I say that yet? There's still a third part!"

"The perfect blend of business and art, a great work."

It was just past midnight, and over 30,000 comments had already been posted about The Dark Knight.

The next day arrived.

After a quiet night in the City of Angels, as the sun rose, the noisy buzz of the day began.

Following the online reviews, the print and TV media joined the praise.

The Dark Knight was being hailed as a masterpiece.

At around 8:30 a.m., in a theater in the so-called black ghetto neighborhood of Downtown Eastside, Los Angeles, the theater manager, Donald, was checking preparations before the official opening.

Behind him, a few muscular security guards stood watch.

"Open the door."

After inspecting everything, Donald ordered one of the security guards to unlock the door.

The guard approached the rolling shutter door, as if preparing for a confrontation.

He unlocked and lifted the door, then unlocked and pushed it open again.

As the doors opened, the crowd of mostly African-American patrons outside became visible.

The audience here had a distinct characteristic—rarely would you see pure white or Asian faces.

Bandanas, tattoos, gang gestures, and bulging waistbands hiding what could be weapons gave the crowd a menacing air.

But Donald had grown used to this, having grown up in the area and knowing all the local bosses.

"Damn it, get in line, all of you... Jared, you little bastard, stop pushing... Lucy, watching a movie with a man? You better be careful, or I'll tell your mom... Bobby, you—"

With Donald's commands, the crowd slowly started to fall into line.

People began buying tickets and entering the theater.