Yes, I can combine feminist bitching with Batman ... watch ...

Stephanie Zacharek basically pans Batman Begins in her review for Salon. It's pretty clear that she didn't understand the background of the film very well, but she's entitled to her own opinion of the film qua film:

But neither Nolan nor, unfortunately, the usually superb Christian Bale seems to recognize that darkness takes on many shades and colors: "Batman Begins" is a dull monotone of heavily theatrical, and yet wholly unmoving, angst. Nolan obviously didn't want his picture to be too cartoony, and that's a good impulse. But "Batman Begins" needs much more energy and kinetic flow -- less dolor and more dolomite. Bale can't seem to find an anchor for the character of Bruce Wayne; at times he's mildly affecting, but he can't locate that elusive hairline at which a character's self-absorption becomes engaging for an audience. His Wayne is so deep inside himself we can barely bring ourselves to care about him.

I don't agree, and I suspect really connecting to Christian Bale's character requires more familiarity than she has. But, in any case, we have this letter to the editor response, with my emphasis:

Such pissing and moaning. And coupled with phony intellectualism, to boot. I know it's gonna get me rapped, but that doesn't make it any less true: Never send a woman to review what is obviously a Guy's Flick. Especially when the flick in question is based on an adventure strip. We're not allowed to have our wish fulfillment fantasies anymore.

Oh, look ... Here comes "Bewitched." An acceptable fantasy. Where's my exploding batarang?

I have nothing to say to this but: WTF? She was criticizing the film as a piece of art, you neanderthal. The presence or absence of a vagina is independent from evaluating a work of art, as evidenced by your own apparent inability to see anything more in the film than an articulation of your own stereotypical fantasies of beating people up.