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Tom Hardy and Christian Bale in The Dark Knight Rises.

Ron Phillips/Warner Brothers Pictures

Tom Hardy and Christian Bale in The Dark Knight Rises.

The Dark Knight Rises is one of those films where so many bits and drops are constantly emerging that it's hard to find a particular moment in which rushing to judgment is any more or less appropriate than at any other time. But the appearance of a new trailer yesterday has set off another round of speculation, and who are we to decline to participate?

On the negative side, the opening line — "There's a storm coming" — set over that sustained "eeeeeee" and the tinkling piano could be out of a trailer for any suspense-based film, particularly if it involves clouds. And Beardy Bruce Wayne, whose facial hair seemingly speaks to a level of personal torment and isolation, isn't the least cliched route they could have taken, either.

But when the piano continues to tinkle over action shots, particularly what looks to be a plane breaking apart to free Bane, it takes on a more interestingly ominous tone. Granted, past concerns about whether Tom Hardy's Bane could be understood through whatever was being done with his voice are not soothed by the first line, "I'm Gotham's reckoning," which I indeed didn't understand the first time through — a combination of the fact that it's an unusual collection of words your ear isn't looking for and the garble-voice. But despite the very understandable concerns of people like Adam Sternbergh, the culture editor at New York Times Magazine, who asked this morning whether a villain in a full-face mask has ever really been a good idea in a superhero movie, the look of Bane is working for me here. It's more Hannibal Lecter than Green Goblin, I think.

The scenes of mayhem are pretty alarming — the football game, the shot-up office — and I'm always happy to see Joseph Gordon-Levitt in pretty much anything. The bridge collapse and the kids watching, whether that's what they're watching or not, is chilling, in part because they look more curious than terrified.

There's a bit of a devolution into a more traditional action-movie trailer in the last third or so, and ending on the "This isn't a car" kicker is a bit expected, too, but all in all, a solid and intriguing couple of minutes. I'm a bit concerned about the fact that nothing here makes me think they're doing much of anything with Catwoman, but sadly, that's not new.

Way back in 2008, I reviewed the off-Broadway production of Rock of Ages. I still have the e-mail I sent my editor, where I asked to cover the show because I was "morbidly fascinated" to see what would happen when '80s hair metal songs got shoved into a silly story about two kids falling in love on the Sunset Strip. I was prepared for bad, but expecting terrible.

I was not prepared to become a fan. But as it happens, Rock of Ages, which eventually transferred to Broadway, is kind of brilliant. It's both a self-parody and a sincere love story, reveling in the excesses of the 80s while understanding that sometimes, the only way to express your feelings is by screaming high notes over a wicked guitar riff. The show laughs at itself, but it doesn't think it's too good for its own material, and that makes it easy to adore.

Thus, I've been excited about the Rock of Ages movie from the moment it was announced: First of all, it's directed by Adam Shankman, who has helmed and/or choreographed dozens of cheeky-yet-sincere musical numbers. Second, it stars people like Alec Baldwin (as the owner of a seedy nightclub), Catherine Zeta-Jones (as a metal-phobic mayor's wife), and Mary J. Blige (as a stripper/madam.) These people are not afraid of the campy heights this material demands, as evidenced by the title of Blige's last album: My Life 2: The Journey Continues (Part I).

And then there's the Tom Cruise factor: He's been cast as Stacee Jaxx, a Bret Michaels-esque rock singer who sleazes around like nobody's business. The part recalls both the wolfish Frank T.J. Mackey from Magnolia and the vile Les Grossman from Tropic Thunder, which means Cruise can probably play it with the right amount of dirty charm. But even so, Cruise's image has been suffering for years. That real-world drama could either enhance our perception of a character like Stacee Jaxx or completely derail it.

It seems like the trailer, which just arrived this week, understands all of this. It launches not with '80s songs or close-ups of the central lovebirds, but with Alec Baldwin cracking about how his club will soon be awash in vomit. That's exactly the tone that needs to be set, and those jokes are followed by shots of some awesomely horrible wigs. Baldwin looks like the drunkest roadie at a CCR concert. Julianne Hough, who plays the ingenue, has bangs so feathered she could migrate south. And Mary J.'s enormous curls are reaching right on up to heaven. Then we see a musical number that pits Catherine Zeta-Jones (belting Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It") against a group of toughs singing Starship's "We Built This City." The bad kids! Singing Starship! This movie and I understand each other.

Once again, there's the Tom Cruise factor: As though predicting our national uncertainty about the actor, the trailer spends a lot of time discussing Stacee Jaxx without actually showing him. And when we finally do get a clear shot, he doesn't speak a word. By keeping Cruise's performance a touch mysterious, the clip invites us to come on in and see for ourselves if the freak show has rolled into town.

I have been fully seduced by this carnival barking. I am dying to know how Cruise pans out. I'm dying to see if the film keeps the stage musical's surprise twist for Baldwin's character. I am double-dog dying to see if Pat Benatar's music made it into the final cut. Don't be surprised if I start camping out for tickets next week.

So we have arrived. Here it is. (Well, it's actually been up for a while; I just haven't bothered looking at it.) It's the trailer for the upcoming Footloose remake.

I saw Footloose at the AFI Silver either last summer or the summer before that, and I was surprised by how contagious its energy still was. How lean and interesting-looking was young Kevin Bacon. How surprisingly effective were John Lithgow and Dianne Wiest. How spunky was Sarah Jessica Parker. How really, really '80s was all that music.

So here we are with Kenny "Who?" Wormald playing Ren, Julianne "Apolo Ohno's Dance Partner" Hough playing Ariel, Miles "No, Really, WHO?" Teller playing Willard, Dennis "The Big Easy 4-EVA" Quaid playing the Reverend, and, believe it or not, Andie "Is It Raining? I Hadn't Noticed" MacDowell playing the Reverend's wife. (Dianne Wiest In My Imagination: "That's it. I'm coming back. Out of the way, you.")

The most striking thing about this is how closely director Craig Brewer is hewing to the look and feel of the 1984 original. Willard is skinnier, but recognizably the same guy. Ariel still shows off the same defiant T-shirt during the town council meeting. Ren's dance through the ... mill? ... looks largely the same, and they seem to have done up the twinkly lights at the dance.

Yes, there's some Step Up 2 The Streets business going on when the kids are dancing in the parking lot, but that's to be expected. They're not going to be grooving to "Dancing In The Sheets" in 2011. (They honestly shouldn't have been in 1984, either. I knew even then that it was gross.) And it does sort of look like maybe they race school buses instead of playing chicken on tractors? But I can forgive that.

Honestly, at first glance, it doesn't look like as much of a gruesome offense against my memories as it could have been. [Look for that in a blurb coming to your newspaper. "Not as much of a gruesome offense as it could have been!" — NPR]