Here's a crazy idea: Film some of the world's smallest, most delicate creatures, Monarch butterflies, in one of the world's largest film formats. Then spread those tiny creatures across a giant dome of a screen and hope it works to drop a caterpillar on heads of movie-goers.

Sometimes a franchise runs too long, becoming repetitive and joyless. That’s the feeling I had sitting through the nearly three hours of The Dark Knight Rises in which even the villain seemed depressed and, truth be told, only mildly interested in his goal to explode a nuclear device in New York.