Batman kicks ass.

Batman Begins is not only the best adaptation the Dark Knight has had visited upon him, he also literally kicks ass in the film-director Christopher Nolan and screenwriter David Goyer have given us a Batman who manhandles thugs with an almost maniacal glee. All the missteps of the franchise's previous outings-the camp, the Technicolor villains, the horrible performances-have been washed away by the dark and gritty cleansing rain of Batman Begins.

As the title suggests, the film gives us a solid introduction to Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), the man who will become Batman. By now, most audiences know the basic story-his parents gunned down before his eyes by a common criminal, Wayne swears vengeance on crime and, once grown, dons the cape and cowl. Batman Begins is neat because Nolan and Goyer go out of their way to show, in detail, how all this happens-from Bruce's training with Ducard (Liam Neeson) in the snowy mountains of China to how he acquires the Batmobile and that trademark suit.

But Bruce's evolution to Batman is more than just physical. It's a psychological journey as well, one that Nolan uses to give the film its foundation. Bale doesn't even appear in the Batman costume until about an hour into the film, but we don't need to see him in the suit to know that he's transformed himself from a rage and guilt-filled orphan to an obsessed, purpose-driven man. Batman Begins is also the first film in the franchise to address Batman's almost anti-heroic nature. The only thing that separates Batman from the criminals he fights is the fact that Batman won't kill. Judging by some of the punishment he visits upon evildoers, that's not much of a line, but it's there, and it's what makes Batman such a compelling hero.

Once firmly established as the scourge of Gotham City's underworld, Batman faces threats from all sides. There's the psychotic Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), who's testing some nasty, fear-inducing hallucinogens on his patients, as well as a dark conspiracy headed by Ra's al Ghul (Ken Watanabe), the ninja master who, with Ducard, trained Bruce. Even Gotham's police want to get their hands on the Dark Knight.

Bale, drawing from his performance in American Psycho, deftly juggles Bruce Wayne's contrasting inclinations. Both personas-vain, arrogant, clumsy playboy and seething, barely contained force of vengeance-are in constant tension with each other.

Best of all, Bale's iteration of Batman is hardcore. Sure, he punches, kicks and does all sorts of fancy ninja moves, but this Batman growls. He's a scary dude, not averse to physically and psychologically scarring criminals in his quest for justice. During one scene, Batman has a crook strung upside down on his grappling line, dangling over a building. The Dark Knight wants information, but the bad guy doesn't know anything-"I swear to God!" he cries. "Swear to me!" Batman snarls just before sending the thug hurtling nearly to the ground. It's an interrogation technique worthy of other hardboiled pop-culture heroes like Jack Bauer on "24" who do what it takes to get the job done.

The film's only weak spot is Katie Holmes, who, despite being the assistant DA in a town where every judge is on the take, is perennially perky. She's easy on the eyes, to be sure, but her character is inconsequential and is around long enough only to spout some expository nonsense. The rest of the supporting cast-which includes Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine and Gary Oldman-is solid gold. Oldman is perfect as the beleaguered Jim Gordon, the only honest cop in town, and as Alfred, Caine gives the role the right blend of sarcasm and aged English wisdom.

For the last decade, the Batman franchise has been something of a punchline among comic book fans. Even admitting that you liked Tim Burton's two films (Batman and Batman Returns) was enough to draw scoffs of disbelief from other fanboys. But with Batman Begins, fans (and everyone else) finally have a film that, swear to Batman, stays true to the character's gritty pulp roots.