The new film about the caped avenger has apparently smashed all box-office records in the US and it is expected to rake in mega takings from film-goers this side of the Atlantic too.

It just goes to show there is no sign of interest in the Gotham city hero waning. Just yet.

And that's perfectly understandable.

Mind you, the Batman we see on our screens today is a far cry from the 1960s TV series figure I grew up with.

Adam West in is his slightly ill-fitting, grey stretchy ensemble might not cut the mustard these days compared with the edgier and far sexier reincarnations.

The likes of Val Kilmer, Michael Keaton, George Clooney and, of course, the latest version, Christian Bale, would take some beating.

The stunts have got bigger and better, the backdrops more realistic and the plots darker. The new blockbuster The Dark Knight encompasses all of these elements and as a result is exceeding all of our expectations as Batman devotees.

There is no doubt the modern-day Batman sagas are cinematic triumphs.
For me, though, there's a still a little hint of nostalgia for Mr West and his trusty side-kick, played by Burt Ward.

After all, it was this dashing duo who inspired me to grab a blue blanket from my doll's pram, swathe it around my shoulders as a makeshift cape and leap from one end of my bed to another, imagining I was just about to burst from the Batcave into the Batmobile.

I would have been around six at the time and my slightly younger cousin made a convincing Robin (because I was older, I was able to boss her around and ensure she was never allowed to take on the number one hero's role.)

When Catwoman – aka Lee Meriweather – made her first appearance, I metamorphosised into her and once again my cousin had to be content with being the supporting act. She was a kitten.

Quite why the series struck such a chord with me, I can't say. I only know that when it arrived on to the TV screen, bringing with it such villains as the Penguin (the inimitable Burgess Meredith) and Cesar Romero as the Joker, I was captivated.

The imagination spilled into playground games as well and everyone I knew wanted to be Batman, one of the anti-heroes or at least someone to do with the whole magical world we were all tuning in to see.

Perhaps with the exception of Alfred or Commissioner Gordon. I'm note sure anyone in my class aspired to be either of them.

Now whole new generations of children are enjoying the escapades of the caped crusader and they can buy all kinds of sophisticated toys and games to help them live their fantasy.

I wonder how many resort to the simple props of an old cot blanket and a cardboard mask, though?

Review: The Dark Knight