Visions of Seoul V

I sit in a darkened multiplex beside two co-workers, surrounded by Saturday afternoon Korean moviegoers. All heads in the theater are craning back (with an occasional aversion of young or sensitive [that would be me] eyes), thrilling to the larger-than-life action unfolding before them. The film (no spoilers forthcoming here, but likely an in-depth debriefing later) on-screen is this summer's darling, the critically lauded blockbuster it seems no one can hate: The Dark Knight.

The action reaches an emotionally resonant crescendo of pathos and mounting action, as the Joker - Batman's foil, embodiment of chaotic, senseless evil - bursts into a large society function, knife flickering unsteadily in his hand as he jabs erratically at cowering bystanders making pretense of bravery. One finally takes a moral (and physical) stand, causing the psychotic figure to whirl around as she interrupts his capricious soliloquizing:

Woman (on-screen, bravely): OK, stop.

Me (without thinking, out loud): Hammertime.