Disclaimer: This is a risky post; I’m indulging in something I have no gift for: predicting the future. So, Dear Listener, if I prove to be entirely wrong, please forgive me.

So, I’m as much of a Batman fan as the next person – and I love Christopher Nolan (my genial co-host the Maestro was not enthusiastic at all about The Prestige, but I think everything CN has done has just the kind of texture I want in a meaty drama; and, lest we forget, he’s just about the only fim-maker today who is giving Michael Caine work with a purpose other than funding his property empire). So, when The Dark Knight finally emerges in Belfast in the middle of next week I’ll be anticipating something very special indeed. I am, as you Dear Listener, are well aware, a bit of a sentimental bloke, and one of the consequences of this is that I am naive enough to sometimes take other people’s reviews seriously – so the exceptional acclaim for this picture is generating real excitement (even the fact that the film is already at number 4 on the imdb poll has to count for something [sorry Jett]).

BUT

I have picked up a few subtle senses about the movie that raise the question that I think pre-occupies more than any other: what is the place of violence in the world? The oldest document in existence, the Epic of Gilgamesh, include the Enuma Elish, the creation myth of the Babylonian Empire; and enshrines what has been called the ‘myth of redemptive violence’ – the notion that violence can not only stop conflict, and bring order out of chaos, but somehow cleanse the world. There’s a very strong case to be made that all human interactions have this myth embedded within them (or at least the threat of its being put into action). Every action hero – from the ’softer’ hues of Superman and Indiana Jones to the recent darker incarnations of the Hulk and Bruce Wayne – lives by this myth. On rare occasions, something other than meeting force with force is offered as an alternative – such as in the astonishing climax of ‘Spiderman 3′, when the bad guy is forgiven and released by the hero. But the overwhelming superhero narrative is the one in which evil is eradicated through violent force. (Think Popeye minus Olive Oyl plus Bluto plus lust times Spinach equals Bluto brutalised plus Olive Oyl strangely not traumatised minus Popeye ever remembering to eat the Spinach before Bluto tries to kidnap and abuse his wife.)

So, where does this leave us? I expect I will enjoy ‘The Dark Knight’ immensely; I imagine it will be a tremendous drama, with emotional depth. I suspect Heath Ledger’s performance probably is as good as everyone is saying. There may well be some exploration of Bruce Wayne’s inner struggle; but I might hazard a guess that this struggle is limited to whether or not he can ‘have a fulfilling personal life’ while also ’standing up for justice’. And in this, the film may well be worthy of applause – it goes beyond the superficiality of pre-Casino Royale James Bond, who could behave like a psychopath playboy without ever sitting at home and weeping into his Scotch. However, if, as I often say, Ben Okri is right – that the stories we tell ourselves shape our vision of what is possible in life, merely offering the opportunity to franchise out our violence to a man in a black suit keeps us trapped in the polar dichotomy that has been the most dangerous burden of the human race: the notion that the only way to respond to violence is to return it in kind, or to run away. I look in vain for a superhero movie that offers a third way. It might be melodramatic to say that the future of humanity depends on it. But it might also be true.