You think you've heard every Batman story?

Keaton's coming back.

An older, weathered Batman, thirty years after his prime...connecting some grand DCEU universe together? Holy (cash) cow, Batman. I would have never even considered this as something remotely possible. Ever. Combine that with news of the Snyder Cut finally seeing the light of day means it's basically raining new Batman content. Hell, and that's not even counting on whatever the heck Matt Reeves and Robert Pattinson have cooked up for us next year.

Clearly, the debate will forever continue, who is the best Batman? It's probably/obviously Keaton, but I'd be willing to listen to arguments for Bale, Affleck, Kilmer, West, Clooney, Pattinson or even...Ninja. 

Wait, what? I must have heard you wrong. Swear you just said Ninja.

No, I'm not talking about that effing streamer guy who just made thirty million dollars yesterday, but instead the badass animated wizardry known as Batman Ninja. Released in 2018 this animated flick is straight up bananas, and while it might not make a lot of sense, neither do a lot of pretty things. And this eighty-five minute flick is an absolute orgy for the eyes.

Turns out, Gorilla Grod had big plans to rid Gotham of its most notorious villains, and building a time-travel device was just the beginning. But before he could safely send the Joker and others to another timeline, monkeyshit goes sideways and everyone ends up in feudal Japan of all places. Seriously.

Batman is just as confused as you are, but no matter, because before you have time to realize how ridiculous this whole premise is, old-school Japanese versions of Joker and Harley Quinn show up and all Hell breaks loose. Eventually, we've got warring mechanized castles shaped like Two-Face and Poison Ivy battling a giant golden monkey made out of an infinite number of smaller monkeys. I've never taken drugs, but I'd be shocked if they made me feel as good as a Voltron-style team of mechanized buildings fighting a two-hundred foot tall Batman made out of equal parts monkey and actual bat.

The train's the world, we the humanity.

Almost six years ago, my son and I met my dad in Seattle, where the mission was to spend some time with my sister, Tatianna. She'd been living in the Emerald City for a couple of years, and we were the first contingent to fly out and see her (um, and oddly enough, the last).

Obviously, I made sure the Mariners were in town, so I could take my son to a baseball game (he was turning five and probably couldn't have cared less), because as important as it is to see family (which in my family, it isn't), it's even more important to see a new baseball stadium. We sat in the second row of the King's Court as the Mariners beat the Braves, 4-2.

But not everything came up Milhouse, no, as across the street from our hotel, the Mediterranean Inn, there was a movie theater like, right there, but apparently, it's not cool to go the movies while you're on vacation? I know, I'm just as shocked as you are.

Had I been able to sneak away to the SIFF Cinema Uptown, I'd have caught Snowpiercer theatrically, and been absolutely floored by how awesome it is, er, would have been. Guys, it was 2014, which at this rate, feels like seventy-five years ago, you know, simpler times. This story of oppression in a blistering wasteland created by vast human ignorance would have felt like peak science fiction. Now? Circling a frozen, lifeless planet with the last two hundred people on the planet?

Sign me up. 

Apparently, there's an American thriller series airing on TNT as we speak, but without sports, the television is dead to me, so let's keep this strictly movie. Strictly...six year-old movie.

The short version of what's going on here, is this: after destroying the planet in an effort to quell climate change, all that's left of humanity endlessly ride a powerful train designed by some reclusive billionaire. The cars are grouped by class, with the hoity-toity folk riding up front, while the lower-class jerks waste away in the muck and the mire of the caboose. And honestly, whatever car you find yourself in, well, it ain't pretty.

It's the best bad idea.

I have to be honest with you, fake shit really ain't cutting it anymore. 

Real life has become more dramatic and compelling than anything Hollywood could ever come up with, and when my kids aren't around, I can't seem to turn off the news. And it's all so unrelentingly terrible, it's like the longest horror movie ever.

And that was when it was just the f--king pandemic.

Prior to the nightly/rightly burning of America, I decided to give The Lovebirds a shot. It's not a stretch to say that the trailer was a bit eye-rolly, but both Rae and Nanjiani are funny and talented enough individually, you'd think Voltron-ing them together would guarantee some laughs. And it totally delivers.

Some laughs.

Leilani and Jibran were that couple, the one that seemingly everyone around them envied. When we really settle in with the titular lovebirds, it appears their relationship has finally  run its course. And just as their personal shit hits the fan, some random dude hits their windshield. The cop in pursuit commandeers their car and runs the dude over multiple times. Shit.

And just like that, instead of clearing their heads after a bad break-up, Leilani and Jibran must clear their names after a grisly murder. I mean, they could just go to the authorities and explain themselves, but...nah. It would be way better to follow a series of dicey-at-best leads with a person who minutes ago you never wanted to speak to again. Yeah, that makes sense.

Some sense.