Ben Affleck: the face that launched a thousand arguments. If you haven’t heard by now…you must be some curmudgeon cave-dweller. The announcement of his casting as the much anticipated (and debatably rash) Dark Knight in the Man of Steel sequel became…well…it certainly became something. It sort of went down as the “Where were you when Kennedy was shot?” of the nerd community. Outrage was palpable. The internet was beleaguered with immediate paranoia of a Schumacher-esque restoration, 2003’s Daredevil shellshock, and all-out phenomenon-level disdain for the recently reformed Oscar-winning actor/director.  Needless to say, people went a little far. If only we got so passionate about things that actually matter. Ex: White House Blocks Petition to Make it Illegal for Ben Affleck to play Batman.

Considering it’s been less than 24 hours since the contemporary day that will live in infamy, isn’t it about time to begin rationalizing? Truth is, ye of little faith, that this is all a bit premature… and perhaps not the Armageddon (see what I did there?) we expect.

The Man without Fear: Daredevil, Daredevil, Daredevil! This is repetitively used to explain why Affleck is unworthy of dawning the cape and cowl. It’s been cited almost universally, the default justification for nay. Marvel’s blind superhero venture to the big-screen was less than savvy or celebrated. There’s just no denying it. It made us ponder if the studio could see at all. Yet really, how valid is this argument? In an ironic way, Daredevil may stoke things toward the brailed light.

“I liked Sum of All Fears. Daredevil I didn’t at all. Some movies should have worked and didn’t. At a certain point, it’s just up to the movie gods. Anyway, this image becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I just said, ‘I don’t want to do it anymore. This is horrible. I don’t want to be in this spotlight, this glare, in this way. It’s tawdry, it’s ugly, it’s oppressive, and it’s inane. So I’m going to try to get away.” – Ben Affleck

Affleck seems to suffer from career PTSD. In short…he’s learned (the hard way) what not to do. Daredevil was plagued with studio intrusion and editing issues that vastly exceeded Affleck’s reach. It’s always easy to point the finger at the poster boy of a film because they’re the most apparent. In actuality, the fault runs to the foundations of those behind the camera. It’s safe to say he knows a thing or two about that.

Déjà Vu: Mr. Mom played one of the most celebrated cinema versions of Batman. Oh how soon we forget the picketing Michael Keaton originally contended with. The initial announcement of his casting in the leading role of the self-titled smash hit was met with instant loathing too. Due to his pre-caped crusader comedy-heavy resume, devotees instantly assumed that Goth God Tim Burton’s incarnation would be akin to a camp-riddled Adam West-ish approach. The concern even ignited pre-internet day petitions to evict him from the cave. And you though Jehovah’s Witnesses were imposing! The parallels between Keaton and Affleck can’t be swept under the rug. It wasn’t until the trailer debut that people saw the intent and tone of the 1989 summer superhero blockbuster was far from their initial assumptions. Let this be a lesson learned.

One of Us: Imagine my surprise when, upon reading graphic novels like Daredevil: Blind Guardian, I noticed Ben Affleck wrote the unexpectedly insightful forward. Granted I know what you’re going to say, Snarky McSarcasm, that Ryan Reynolds wrote the forward to Green Lantern: Secret Origin and that turned out splendid. My point is that he has open and unabashed passion, respect, and familiarity with and for the comic book medium. Also consider his acquaintance with when you recall the mystery drama Hollywoodland, making Affleck the only man to ever officially wear the tights of both DC’s big two, and his pseudo-associations with the comic industry as the lead in Chasing Amy. This all certainly has to count for some ounce of credit, not the least of which being that the creator of AMC’s Comic Book Men (the crème de la crème of superhero aficionados) has unprecedented confidence in his abilities. That speaks volumes.

“If people are like, Jaws? I’m like, ‘Affleck. Affleck plays the shark.’” – Kevin Smith

Rise from the Ashes: Ben Affleck achieved an inspirational comeback worthy of a God damn Hallmark card. Going from Bennifer to Batfleck is one hell of a leap, something we need to recognize. Delivering both The Town and Argo in recent years, granting him both Academy Award nods or victories, really displays the maturity and growth he’s achieved since disasters (which is an insult to disasters) like Gigli. How rational really is judging him entirely upon his past anyway, else-wise Joker was a gay cowboy, Ra’s al Ghul was in a Star Wars catastrophe, Catwoman was narrowly a Disney princess and Bane a generic foe in an uninspired Star Trek. The importance of this is that, like the alcoholic awakened by AA’s new-found sobriety; he himself publically recognizes this transition. Affleck has been reborn. The ultimate irony is that he’s arguably a superior director to Batman vs. Superman’s Zach Snyder.

Change: Bale’s finished. Get over it. Embrace it. Christopher Nolan produced a trilogy of films that reached possibly the pinnacle of critical comic book success. This, however, never meant that the pointy-ears would or even should be retired. Nolan injected newfound and novel levels of realism into his scripts, something that became relatively standard in contemporary comic book adaptations, but in this he created a limitation. Is Batman only relevant, psychological, and intellectual when placed in a practical and grounded environment? No, he’s not. Comic books have proven than for decades. It’s time to delicately, recognizing the fragility that’s between fantasy and schlock, go back to the fantastical. We deserve a world where Clayface or Mr. Freeze are fittingly appropriate, but taken no less seriously than a Nolan narrative. This is largely the brilliant overarching point of the Dark Knight trilogy, that no one version of the character is any more valid than another. It’s continuous, immortally, everlastingly durable as a symbol. Batman is more than any one actor, destined to transcend and outlive us tenfold. He’s evolved and shall again. Perhaps Christian Bale is the actor we deserve, but not the one we need right now. Even if we are potentially just swapping a throat-cancer voice for a Jersey accent.