Let's put a smile on that face!

Finally, darkness.

And a knight errant with ominous armor.

After the campy, tongue-in-cheek excesses of the late 1960s "Batman" television series, it took several longtime devotees of the character to return him to his shadowy, murky roots. Heralding a new era of far more "adult" comics was the 1986 noirish squareback miniseries "Batman: The Dark Knight Returns" by celebrated writer-artist Frank Miller, whose kinky, psychologically complex re-creation, together with Alan Moore's "The Killing Joke" (1988), paved the Batway for Tim Burton's "Batman" (1989), a film distinguished by its dour tone and Expressionistic motif.

Heavily influenced by Japanese Manga strips, Miller's approach — amplified in "Batman: Year One" (1986) — provided the template for writer-director Chris Nolan, who added innovations of his own.

When the gifted writer-director's sequel, "The Dark Knight," flaps into the bijou on Friday, expect a continuance of the excellent "Batman Begins" (2005). Clunky humor? Long gone. Silly sidekicks? Forget it. Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey chewing up scenery in the same picture? No way.

Today, unlike the debate over who was the best James Bond — Sir Sean Connery wins in a landslide — the best Dark Knight remains a bat-bone of contention. And while Michael Keaton was just crazy enough to be believed, George Clooney was too lighthearted and Val Kilmer too wry. Not until the coming of the suitably named Christian Bale, as in baleful, has the franchise had someone whose intensity suggests the duality of the character, and its potential. As far as comic-book heroes go, Batman, who has no super powers, is the most primal. The Hulk? Puleese.

That Bale, a former child star, stood out so sharply in Nolan's "Batman Begins" (2005) is testament to his talent and screen presence, especially in one of the more star-laden pictures in recent memory. And not just stars, mind you, but actors, armed with well-written roles. Accomplished performers like Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman, Ken Watanabe, Rutger Hauer, Linus Roache, Tom Wilkinson, Cillian Murphy and Rade Sherbedjia — all of whom have been leading men, as well as skilled character actors. Few films ever boast such a lineup. Fewer still give each something distinctive to do. Only Katie Holmes seemed lightweight amid all the gravitas.

Caine, Murphy, Oldman and Freeman return for the sequel, albeit with a new round genuinely edgy actors in Aaron Eckhart (as Harvey Dent/Two-Face), Maggie Gyllenhaal (as Rachel Dawes), Eric Roberts (as Salvatore Maroni) and, of course, the late Heath Ledger in his final role (as the Joker).

The Joker was last embodied, memorably, by Jack Nicholson, who, in the inaugural film of the series, did his level best to steal the show from titular leading man Keaton. Until "Batman Begins," Burton's original outing was still the best.

"Dark Knight," the skinny: With the aid of Gotham City Police Lt. Jim Gordon (Oldman) and newly appointed District Attorney Harvey Dent (Eckhart), Batman determines to dismantle what remains of the organized crime operation in the city. After a promising start, the partnership suddenly is faced with a bizarre new adversary — the Joker — a criminal mastermind just as determined to loose anarchy on the populace. Meanwhile, there's also the question what happened to Dr. Jonathan Crane (Murphy), aka Scarecrow, who may have a score to settle with the Caped Crusader.

Nolan, who revealed uncommon cleverness and cunning in such films as "Memento" and "Insomnia," co-wrote the script for "The Dark Knight" with his brother Jonathan (who also worked with his bro and Bale on "The Prestige," successful despite its similarity to "The Illusionist"). The two shared an Oscar nomination in 2000 for "Memento." Chris Nolan's screenplay for "Batman Begins," co-written with David S. Goyer, was so taut, so solid, one almost wonders what they can do for an encore. "Origin" films always tend to have the greater impact, and the key for a sequel of this sort is to adhere to the character-driven approach and sidestep the temptation to rely overmuch on whiz-bang special effects.

Nolan says that in designing this new incarnation of the Joker, he gave him a Francis Bacon spin, referring to the 20th-century British painter whose style expressed the horror and isolation of the human condition, employing distorted figures that convey both panic and menace. In "The Dark Knight," it is heroic duality meets villainous duality, and both are closer to each other than they dare imagine.

"The corrupted clown face is built into the icon of the Joker," the director has said. "This corruption, this decay in the texture of the look itself, it's grubby. You can almost imagine what he smells like." Indeed, it seems as though the character's visage is smeared across his face, as if it might fall off at any moment to reveal something quite different beneath — or nothing at all. This is potent imagery.

Yet, for all the hype about Ledger's performance, the film only marshaled a PG-13 rating. How "dark" can it be?

The special poignancy that attends the movie, being Ledger's last, can't be dismissed, but it will rise or fall on the bat-decisions made by Nolan.

Reach Bill Thompson at bthompson@postandcourier.com or 937-5707.