Much like Dark Knight, I left the theater with a myriad of emotions. I was certainly thrilled and entertained by what I had seen, but unlike Dark Knight, I did not shed a tear. I got a little glassy eyed at a moment or two, but I was expecting to bawl like a baby. It's safe to say that regardless of how low I attempted to keep my expectations, whatever I wanted to get out of it could not feasibly be met, as the filmmakers goal was not to please me as an individual. They had a story to tell, and it's up to me to decide how I feel about it. After I accepted this and mulled over the few minor qualms I had for an hour or so after the screening, I realized what the issue was: Dark Knight was such a massively tragic film that I feebly expected them to make a film that tried to top it. Don't get me wrong, obviously it has plenty of dire moments of despair, but the tone is far more triumphant and positive than I could have ever envisioned. After realizing this, the emotions I likely should have felt while watching the movie suddenly flooded me. I felt at ease. Nolan's vision of Bruce Wayne and the people of Gotham truly was complete. While it may not have been the most accurate in regard to comic canon, or the direction I might have taken it, there is no denying that it was his vision, front to back. It's a unique odyssey with character names and images that may appear familiar but whom all have a distinct stamp that no other story-teller in any medium has since or likely ever will match. And that's a good thing. This trilogy is it's own entity and deserves to be viewed as such. My gripes for all three films always stemmed from my immediate dissatisfaction with how Nolan chose to take characters so familiar to me and sometimes turn them on their heads. But I should not condemn him for such an act. I should applaud him for succeeding what so many films fail to do anymore and a trait that is so largely missing from story-telling that I sometimes forget that it is a positive attribute: originality.