Holy crappy franchise!: "Batman"

Let me be to 1,462,891st person to say it: Thank god for TiVo. This easily is the leanest time of the year for big-screen movies; the best option in my town seems to be "Be Cool," and I didn't think "Get Shorty" was all that great. Hell, I might go see some Thai martial arts movie called "Ong-Bak," partly so when people asked what I did this weekend, I can just grunt, "Ong-Bak," and walk away.

Meanwhile, the movie that eventually led to Joel Schumacher becoming a four-letter word was on TCM, and it seemed TiVo-worthy given the rebirth of the "Batman" franchise this summer. I'll admit being pumped for that, if only because I hope a batsuited Christian Bale will turn to someone and ask, "Do you like Huey Lewis?" before chopping them to pieces.

As for the other "Batman," I was 16 when Michael Keaton donned the cape and cowl, and I remember what a weird choice Mr. Mom was. Sixteen years later, it's still an odd fit, and that's only one problem with this movie. Sure, the sets and bat vehicles were cool, especially if you were a kid. (I seem to recall a little bit of marketing with this flick.) It's also hard to resist Jack Nicholson, who looked at the top, went over it, circled back and went over it again.

But anyone who loved Billy Blaze in "Night Shift" doesn't want to see Keaton do understated, and I'm not sure I ever believed he was the tortured soul that our favorite flying rodent needs to be. Still, Keaton is Brando compared with Kim Basinger, who I'm pretty sure is wandering around Hollywood clutching her "L.A. Confidential" Oscar and screaming, "Really, I won this!"