Although this may not be the gritty Batman to end all Batmen, Gotham’s streets resemble the callous Arkham games, the caped crusader is commandingly devastated and driven, and Jeffrey Wright may be the best Gordon yet.

Batman has always lived in a stylistic limbo. On one hand, the caped crusader is wise, fatherly, even comical as Adam West’s navy-blue Bat ‘kapow’s the Joker, white face paint over his 60s moustache. On the other, he is the troubled tycoon vigilante who toes the line between the just detective and a playboy senselessly beating up the mentally unstable, often crossing over to the dark side. Throughout the endless list of iterations, Bruce Wayne always gets a new coat of paint but the story remains the same: Gotham is in danger and the only person who can save the city is the not-so-super hero, gadgets polished and wallets full.

This time round, Batman has only been on the job for two years and is calling himself Vengeance, a wonder to which category this version will fall under. As cliché as the moniker may be, it is an apt description. Devoting all of his time to protecting Gotham’s night-time streets, Bruce Wayne is consumed by all things ugly, fighting fire with fire as he patrols the overcast streets with nothing but fear in tow.

As he dispenses justice, Vengeance is truly terrifying, his footsteps echoing down dark alleyways beckoning the oncoming brutality. Portrayed by Robert Pattinson, the brooding knight is truly larger than life, his presence dominating every scene as cops watch in stunned silence as he examines the crime scene. This may not be the first time the Bat has been shown to be so menacing, yet Pattinson is the perfect fit for this driven but lost hopeful still trying to figure out his own moral code. He is simultaneously the Batman we have grown used to but also something new; this isn’t a man searching for a purpose but a purpose seeking humanity.

As scary as Vengeance may be, Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne is next to non-existent. This young and reclusive version of the billionaire is sullen and melancholic, a mere shadow of his masked alias, a direct result of his fixation with curing Gotham blow by blow. It fits with this close-to-deranged image director Matt Reeves is pushing but ends up shooting itself in the foot once the semi-origin story kicks in.

Thankfully, there are no flashbacks to Bruce losing his parents as a child, a story we have seen enough and can just assume, yet there are some occasional ham-fisted plotlines that intrude on the blissful violence. Crime boss Falcone (John Turturro) is a fantastic character, but most of his appearances are plagued with dreary conversations about Bruce’s past, the effect tripled when followed by another mundane exposition dump with Andy Serkis’ Alfred. The issue isn’t Bruce’s lack of charisma, his secluded nature amplifying his path to vigilantism, but the abrupt shifts serve as angsty blemishes in an otherwise thrilling detective/action combo.

But maybe that is the point. Vengeance’s theme song, Nirvana’s Something in the Way, is chilling as the grunge bass guitar hums danger, yet there is also an oxymoronic comparison in there. Like Cobain, Bruce is an addict, substituting drugs for the Fight Club-esque endorphin rush of painting your body with bruises. When he is grapple-hooking his way across the city, the enigmatic similarity works but once he returns to Wayne Manor, it can often seem that he is a child throwing a stubborn tantrum; a self-titled teenage rebel simply because they know all the words to Smells Like Teen Spirit.

The Bat and the Cat… Zoë Kravitz and Robert Pattinson. Photo: Warner Bros. Pictures

Yet even that analogy falls short of the mark: for Bruce to be a juvenile troublemaker there would need to be a peak, a moment where the anger comes crashing, breaking the billionaire in two. It never comes. Pattinson is always seen to be at the same level of distress, the few moments where his emotions reach new peaks overshadowed by uncharacteristic elements. Selena Kyle (Zoë Kravitz) and Bruce have always flirted relentlessly, yet it sticks out like a sore thumb when their romance is played up just to fit into the modern-day Marvel blueprint.

But not all the deviations from the main battle are bad ones. Selena’s own arc is fleeting and fun; Colin Farrell’s Penguin is bombastic and a transformation so hidden that it is hard to see Farrell beneath the flightless bird façade; and Jeffrey Wright is the kind-hearted Det. Gordon that matches Pattinson’s presence but on the other end of the human-hatred scale. Surprisingly, it is Paul Dano’s Riddler that poses the greatest question: why is he so over the top? Militaristic and psychotic, the Riddler is less of the ego-centric puzzler and closer to a Joker-fide alternative. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting the green bowler hat, but Dano’s rendition isn’t as scary as it wants to be, trading subtlety for a QAnon vlogger.

As faulted as it may be, this isn’t a medley of mistakes. It is a stereotypical superhero flick with an extra adding of menace and a greater focus on its titular character. It is a cross-section of a hero that many love told through an honest lens, bearing its dirty teeth as it explodes with curiosity and ferocity. It is visceral and cruel, and although it may have lasted too long, it would be a great shame to see this popcorn thriller disappear without a sequel.