It took me a while to settle into the rhythms of THE DARK KNIGHT because it wasn’t anything I expected it to be. Even having seen the prologue on the bigscreen once before, I didn’t get what tone Nolan was going to hit with this film, and as the film’s first act played out, I realized just how far he was willing to go, and it left me nervous, off-balance, exactly the way a film featuring the Joker should. For the first time ever, I felt like anything could happen whenever he would shamble onscreen, looking like something that just crawled out of a wet grave. I’ve always felt that when the Joker makes a joke, he should be the only one who laughs while everyone else is busy cowering in fear or throwing up. Well, looks like Chris and Jonah Nolan feel the same way, because this is a vile tornado of suffering that sweeps through Gotham, a destructive force in clown makeup, his facial scars a mere hint of just how twisted he is inside. He’s not a villain like we normally see in these movies, and he’s not even the Joker we normally see in Batman stories. He’s the film’s grand metaphor, given voice by an actor who vanishes into the role, and he’s only one of the many merits of THE DARK KNIGHT.