It's
all about the moment of climax, isn't it?
Rub two sticks together.
Slowly, the heat begins to build. Rub them harder, and the kindling begins
to smoke. Rub them faster,and they scrape and bite and bind at each other.
Then there's a spark and a leap and a sudden spurt of flame, and then
everything is warm and gentle and nurturing. Excitement has quickened
the senses; now the burning fire can dull them, pleasurably.
Now, rub two characters
together. It's the same thing. Call it woodlore, story development,
or foreplay. Fun with friction.
It's the climactic
eruption that matters, everyone will tell you. In comics and action cartoons,
it's when the villain has the hero in his clutches, usually after springing
a fantastic trap. A buzzsaw, a giant penny, an atomic warhead: some kind
of fabulous toy to whet the excitement. Then the tension explodes as the
good guy escapes and leaps upon the bad guy, hammering him with blow after
blow after blow. Then the baddie sags, the
conflict discharges, and the story relaxes. Hard, fast, and decisive; if
only all of life were like that, we smile as we swoon with pleasure.
Well, maybe. Foreplay
is just flirting if it goes no place fun. But fun is a relative term ("fun"
compared to what?), and the climax needs slow and careful development
if it is to have maximal effect.
Sexy and sassy, "Almost
Got 'Im" goes to work on its audience with the practiced hands of
a very expensive courtesan. Fanboys live for the big showdown, and "Almost
Got 'Im" has five of them. There is much good, raunchy fun as the
supervillains reminisce over cards about all the times they had Batman
cornered (only to lose him); it's like an orgiastic fuck-for-all, as the
villains try to top each other with stories of the times they almost topped
Batman. It's all incredibly shallow and incredibly cynical, and those
who like to cuddle up with a good character study are apt to swoon more
out of boredom than pleasureuntil the smart little twist in the
third act, when we discover that all those "flashbacks" were
just dirty talk to work you up to the real climax, which has Batman rescuing Catwoman from the Joker's foul embrace. Unless you are fatally
consumed by self-conceit, you can only ruefully grin at the revelation
that you've been licked up one side and down the other, like an all-day
sucker.
This is one of the
few eps that gives itself over entirely to a lot of dirty funa good
test that shows the resiliency of the material and the dextrerity of
its makers. It's a shock, I suppose, to come home and find your wife
in the proverbial "saranwrap and a smile." But only the worst
kind of prude would deny it to us.
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