The Dark Knight wasn’t just one of the best comic book movies ever made, it was one of the best films ever created. So there was little doubt in my mind that when I turned on the TV this morning to get an update on what happened in the world while I was sleeping, that there was going to be a segment on Christopher Nolan’s final piece of his trilogy.
The Dark Knight Rises was the lead story.
All fiction has roots in reality. True stories are exaggerated and manipulated until they’re captivating and entertaining. It’s this imitation of real life drama and comedy that allows us to relate to and connect with movies. And the movies that do it perfectly change the way we look at the world.
The problem is that some people really do want to watch the world burn.
With no clear motive, one man in Colorado took a level of anarchy reserved for Hollywood and made it a reality. The twelve people who had their stories come to an end weren’t unnamed extras who met a PG-13 fate so a hero could rise and provide resolution. They were real people. They were mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives who wanted nothing more than to stay up late with each other and be among the first to see a how a great non-fiction story was going to end.
Life isn’t a movie.
But, as someone who has tickets to see The Dark Knight Rises this weekend, I’m going to see the movie differently. I’m going to see real life in it. I’m going to see the citizens of Gotham and think of the people in Colorado. I’m going to see Bane’s henchmen and think about 24-year-old James Holmes and how he was able to do what he did last night.
My heart goes out to the families of the victims and those who are recovering from their injuries. I can only hope that justice is served and the punishment for Holmes is fitting enough to bring a just conclusion to this story.