[8.0/10] There’s a running gag among superhero film fans these days that each new Batman movie forces viewers to relive Bruce Wayne’s parents being killed, that grisly scene reimagined again and again for each new generation. *The Lego Batman Movie*, thankfully, spares us from that (thought it might have been amusing to see the grim tones of Joe Chill rendered in “pew-pew” style). Still, the movie essentially responds to that criticism as it plumbs the depths of the tropes and subtropes and clichés that have sprung up around the Bat-verse, finding a trite but true take on the character in the process.

The film achieves this by showing a Batman who gazes wistfully at photo of him and his parents near crime alley, and implying that he is afraid to have a family for fear that getting close to anyone will result in that sort of loss. It’s heavy stuff, but *Lego Batman* plays it just light enough to keep the proceedings fun, but strong enough to where you cannot help but offer a minor “aww” when he, inevitably, opens those emotional doors and lets people into his life.

That makes *Lego Batman* sound deeper and darker it is. There is nothing particularly groundbreaking about the core story of the film, how a gloomy loner learns to appreciate the value of community and family. But grafting that onto The Batman himself, particularly in a film that is constantly taking the stuffing out of the ever-stoic, uber-capable, eternal icon of all that is broody and badass, lends it an air of fun that never lets up.

It’s also a major part of why the film is so sound at its core. Every major character has a journey. Batman discovers that he’s already a part of a family. Alfred manages to help his surrogate son grow up. Dick Grayson finds a surrogate dad of his own. And Barbara Gordon succeeds in finding a new, more communal way to fight crime, by having Batman work *with* local law enforcement rather than apart from them. Again, none of this is so novel, but it all splits off the main theme, and gives each of the protagonists an animating purpose and distinct point-of-view throughout the proceedings.

But what truly sets *Lego Batman* apart is its the way the films writers clearly both love Batman, but find endless ways to make fun of the caricature of the character that has emerged in the popular culture over last thirty years or so. The just-for-fun confines of the Lego environment gives director Chris McKay (who’s used to this style of reimaginative comedy from his work on *Robot Chicken*) license to turn the Caped Crusader into a silly, over-the-top parody of himself, with plenty of nods to the character’s prior incarnations in tow.

*Lego Batman* is, in fact, a veritable cornucopia of humorous homages, great and small, to the entire history of the character. While the hilarious *Batman: The Brave and The Bold* animated series functioned similarly as a tribute to the wilder and woolier side of the character’s past appearances, it (mostly) played those nods straight, albeit tongue-in-cheek, while McKay’s film a whirling dervish of meta-gags about Batman’s greatest hits, filled to the brim with winks to the audience and blasts from the past. Whether it’s a cavalcade of Z-grade villains or Billy Dee Williams finally getting to play Two-Face or The Joker declaring that his latest caper will be even greater than the “thing with the two boats,” there are frequent shout outs to Batman’s other on-screen outings.

To that end, the film’s finest point is its opening fifteen minutes, which serves as both a nice entree to the world and tone of the film, and also as a nice, standalone gag-fest for not only The Dark Knight himself, but for all superhero flick opening acts. The rapid-fire gags and meta humor are in full swing, and the movie shows of its visual impressiveness as well, finding a nice balance between big action and Lego-fueled weightlessness. The torrent of hero-on-villain combat and comic asides creates an intro to the film that is as visually inventive as it is amusing.

But, as all films must, eventually *Lego Batman*’s initial thrills give way to the real plot. At this point, the film becomes more conventional in the paths its characters take, but the irreverence of it all, particularly the steely black-clad hero himself longing for a human connection in very silly terms, keeps the film enjoyable even when it can’t match the comic punch of that opening salvo. The cross-franchise mayhem, creative animated sequences, and murderer’s row of great actors voicing their Gotham counterparts, help buoy the proceedings even as the movie settles down.

Still, it’s the unconventional, loving-but-joshing take on the main character that wins the day. One of the quick gags early in the film is that the nominally dark, mature Batman loves romantic comedies. What seems like a throwaway gag, powered by the out of character fun of such a revelation, is fleshed out into a fulsome and funny bit of character, when The Joker takes offense to Batman refusing to call him his “greatest enemy.” What ensues is a story of a hero and archvillain told with the contours of the same romcoms, with jilted love (er, hate), a refusal to say three magic words, and the third act reconciliation and affirmation that takes the occasional obsessive subtext between Batman and the Clown Prince of Crime in an amusingly *Jerry MaGuire*-inspired direction.

That’s the gleam of *The Lego Batman Movie*. It’s a film that is not only aware of the storied, sometimes absurd history of its central (mini)figure, but it’s aware of the conversations that have cropped up in and among his endless permutations on screen over the years. It’s ready with a commentary on who Batman is, with all of his exaggerated qualities taken up to eleven, that is both age-appropriate for youngsters come to see a Lego adventure, and clever for the adults watching a riff on the hero they grew up with. And by offering a take on the character that is committed to not taking Batman too seriously, *Lego Batman*, oddly enough, presents one of the best encapsulations of the character and all the wonderful absurdity he’s spawned, that is affectionate, clever, and above all, fun.