By Cheryl Eddy

PICTURE IT: June 1989. A nation bows down to Batman, directed by Tim Burton, fresh off Beetlejuice and headed next for Edward Scissorhands. It was possibly mainstream America's biggest shared goth moment, thanks to Burton's stylized take on the Dark Knight; plus, there was that Prince soundtrack – so inescapable, my memories of Batman '89 are largely limited to the contents of the "Batdance" video.

Everyone remembers what happened next. Batman begat Batman Returns, Batman Forever, and 1997's dreaded Batman and Robin, a movie so deadly it pretty much took a boot heel to any residual bat-frenzy at the multiplex. (Somewhere, Adam West wept). Rumors in recent years suggested possible reignition tactics, including Requiem for a Dream director Darren Aronofsky's planned take on Frank Miller's Batman: Year One. Hype also percolated around Batman vs. Superman for a time. Here's what we know for sure: Barring any unforeseen flare-up of the "Superman curse," Superman Returns is poised to spread Kryptonite (and regurgitated Brando footage) among the masses next summer. But fans of the Caped Crusader need wait no longer, as Batman Begins is out today, and it does not disappoint.

First off, there's plenty of talent behind the camera, with Christopher Nolan (Memento) directing from a script he cowrote with avowed comic-book fiend David S. Goyer (Blade, Dark City). Nolan's approach is way less fantasyland than Burton's; his Gotham is seedier, slummier, and populated with villians more creepy than cartoony – and his Batman (Christian Bale, who heads a superb cast) is younger and way more pissed-off. Since the movie is called Batman Begins, the first half is given over to the hero's origin story, which is infused with far less gee-whizzery than anything we saw in Spider-Man. In my book, any movie that starts with an angry guy (Bale, in Bruce Wayne mode) in a Bhutanese jail throwing punches in the chow-line is off to an excellent start – and things only get better once young Master Wayne is spirited away to a Himalayan training camp, where he's taught battle tactics, the importance of theatricality, and sinister-Zen philosophy ("Master your own fears to prey on the fears of others") by the mysterious Ducard (Liam Neeson, working some rather Satanic facial hair).

Ducard and his League of Shadows cohort, Ra's al Ghul (The Last Samurai's Ken Watanabe), have a zero-tolerance approach to crime that Wayne initially supports – understandable, considering his billionaire parents were shot to death by a mugger before his wide, preteen eyes. What's worse, the murderer was let out of jail after precious few years, only to be gunned down for squealin' on Carmine Falcone (Tom Wilkinson), Gotham's top mob boss. But since he's "no executioner," Wayne stops short of joining the League of Shadows. Chaos ensues, and enemies are made, before Wayne hops a jet back to Gotham, determined to clean up his city on his own terms. "People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy," he explains to his faithful butler, Alfred (Michael Caine).

For Wayne, that means dressing up like a bat and striking fear in the heart of every crook in town (and pummeling those he meets face-to-face). Since Batman is a superhero without superpowers, he relies on various accoutrements to help him "fly," vanish into thin air, etc. Freeman earns many of Batman Begins' laughs as wry Wayne Enterprises scientist Lucius Fox, who oversees the company's dusty collection of unused inventions (including the tricked-out car that becomes the Batmobile). And Batman soon puts all of these wonderful toys to use: Besides the Falcone problem, there's also an ominous plot involving psychiatrist Dr. Jonathan Crane (28 Days Later's Cillian Murphy), who himself has an alter ego – let's just say he puts the "scare" in "Scarecrow" (I'd also say it's his freakishly surreal scenes that put the "13" in "PG-13"). Other key characters include comely assistant DA Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes), a childhood friend of Wayne's; Gotham's one good cop, Det. Sgt. Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman); and greedy Wayne Enterprises CEO Richard Earle (Rutger Hauer).

Batman Begins may have little in common with any of the Caped Crusader's previous films, but it does resemble other recent superhero flicks, particularly Spider-Man 2, with its more existential approach to dual-identity crisis. Much to Rachel's disgust, Wayne masquerades as a sloppy, scene-making rich guy, but his greatest struggles are internal – guilt, anger, and fear combine to make him one hell of a troubled soul. His purpose in becoming Batman is ostensibly to fight injustice, but it's also a tool to soothe his own emotional torment. Where Wayne ends and where, literally, Batman begins, is virtually indistinguishable; the way the character is handled here adds appreciable depth to a film that's also rife with the essential coolness Bat-fans require: the Bat Cave and Bat Signal, an array of nifty gadgets, the man in black declaring, "I am Batman!" and the best blatant sequel set-up in ages.

'Batman Begins' opens Wed/15 at Bay Area theaters. See Movie Clock for show times.