Blame Batman, the first superhero movie I ever saw — and perhaps not coincidentally, my favorite. (Paired with its sublime sequel Batman Returns.) Or blame Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight, which raised the bar for comic book adaptations — proving they could be artful and commercial at the same time, as well as Oscar contenders. Or blame Bruce Wayne himself, so brooding and tortured and serious, making all those other men in tights look like gravity-defying clowns in comparison.

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