You may think it difficult to believe, but I had a rare, life-changing experience at the age of five.
It was 1993, and my family and I took a trip to Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia, California. I wasn’t too keen on the roller coasters, they were a bit too dangerous for my small five-year-old frame, and I wasn’t really tall enough to ride most of them at that point anyways. Fortunately for me, they did have something geared toward me. I remember my Dad telling me, “We’re going to watch the Batman Stunt Show!”
I remember being happy hearing that. I had watched the first two movies from Tim Burton previously, and at that point, Batman was “my guy.” I would watch the animated series from Bruce Timm and Paul Dini after school, and I had seen the first movie countless times on videotape.
I guess I didn’t fully realize at the time my Dad told me we were going that a stunt show is a much more real and immersive experience than watching the action on a TV set. And although some of those oft-repeated stunt shows may be only residually exciting, for me as a small child, it was the world of Gotham City come to life. We took our seats near the back of the amphitheater, in the center, where we had a great view overlooking the entire stage. I sat waiting, looking up at my parents, who just smiled at me. Then, the music began.
The action started slowly. A partying crowd, and Vicki Vale exiting a building when the unmistakable cackling of the Joker could be heard. He burst onto the scene, snatched up Vicki Vale, and took off onto a high tower. I was scared. I had seen Vicki on that movie, and she was being held by THE Joker! How did he get into the park, anyways?!
Unfortunately, I can’t remember the exact dialogue from the show. I remember one specific part though, because it changed me. It contributed very much to the person that I am today. Some might call it a fanboy moment, but it was so much more than that for the child I was. It was nothing short of shamanic. The Joker relaying to the assembled audience that he would succeed in his diabolical plan, and mockingly asking the audience, “WHO can possibly STOP me?!”
Then it came. An unmistakable, gravelly voice saying one thing:
“I can.”
The next thirty seconds are some of the most vivid that I have stored in my memory. I saw hundreds of heads in the amphitheater look in my direction, right above my head. I followed their gazes to see a black mass of a man, with the wings of that nocturnal creature spread out, then, to take the words from Frank Miller, “…it’s wings spread wide, then fell, its wings now a fluttering cape wrapped tight about the body of a man.” My hero was here. Standing right above me was Batman.
He dove down on a zipline and before my young eyes, the Dark Knight glided down the entire length of the stage as his foot forcefully met the Joker’s face. If I had reached out at the right time, I could’ve touched his cape. HIS cape. I remember feeling overwhelming joy and relief. “He was here,” I thought. “We were saved.”
The next parts of the show were fast and furious. When it looked like he had been defeated and gone at the hands of the Joker, I was worried. That is, until I saw the actual Batmobile burst through a wall and screech to a halt. The door opened and he had made it! Batman jumped out and defeated the Joker, and saved Vicki Vale. When the show was over, he disappeared, and I was left in utter awe.
Now, as a grown man today, I realize that the guy in that Bat-suit was probably going out for a sweaty smoke break behind the bleachers of the amphitheater afterwards, but that show changed my life rather clearly.
My hero had saved me and my family right in front of me. He did all of the things I saw him do on the TV and in comic books, diving off of buildings, driving his car, and defeating his enemies. That day was the most hopeful and amazing of my entire life, because the illusion was real. I was in that world. And whoever was in that suit and whatever kind of man he actually is, that day, I saw Batman. I shared the same space with the physical embodiment of my greatest hero.
That memory will always have value to me, and that’s what has made my fandom of Batman so strong over the years. It never occurred to me to be afraid after I knew he was there, because he was going to save me.
I hope that other people hold onto these experiences in their own lives, and that we continue to try and create them in the lives of other children. Whatever we can do to give them hope, and to remember a time in their life when they knew everything would be okay.
I look back, and I smile. I don’t know how many other people can say this, who’ve actually believed it, if only for a moment.
I saw my hero, he saved me. It was one of the greatest days of my life.
