I have to warn you, this week's column is probably going to strike you as mawkish and personal – but I thought I'd give the topic a spin and see how it went. Next week, we'll talk about our hopes and dreams of a Daredevil reboot, but today's column is the result of a long vacation, lack of a social life, and downloading the Netflix player.

First off, I must confess – I'm dating someone. Clint Eastwood circa 1970, to be exact. Judge our DVD romance all you will, decry that we break the time-space continuum, but we're very happy together. We just spent a delightful weekend via The Beguiled and Two Mules for Sister Sarah. The sun came up and we were still together. What can I say? He treats me like a lady, despite the fact that he only ever sees me sans make-up and in pajamas.

The sad thing is, I'm only half-kidding -- and yes, I will look back on this period of my life (probably via therapy or alcoholism) and wonder why Eastwood was the most dependable man in it. But our affair got me thinking overmuch about today's men, both in and outside of Hollywood. And it didn't help that in the early days of my relationship with Eastwood, we lost the wonderful Paul Newman. I wrote in Cinematical's tribute to him that the world could use more men like Newman – and it is so very true. Where are the men like Newman, Eastwood, Robert Redford, James Garner and Gregory Peck? The men who are rugged, larger than life, and who exude honesty and decency even when acting in so-so films? Who exude it in real life? What the heck happened to the world since these guys arrived on the scene?

I had planned to do a column ranking the boys of summertime the way I had with the women – but as I've been plotting it out, I realized it wasn't going to work. The roles men are given are infinitely more heroic, interesting, and complex, and any ranking would quickly become a list of favorites rather than best. And it's predictable – Tony Stark, Wall E, Harvey Dent, end of story, and totally boring. The more I tried to make it less so, the more slippery the concept became, and I realized it was all a thinly veiled excuse to write about one of the characters in particular: Harvey Dent. And with Devin Faraci's call to analytical arms, it's like a sign from the movie gods to get into meatier territory.

The most highly anticipated element of The Dark Knight for me was also what ended up being the most disappointing – Harvey "Two-Face" Dent. In the afterglow of opening weekend, people looked askance at me when I voiced this aloud before half-heartedly defending Christopher Nolan's vision. But in all the is-he-isn't-he-dead debate of late, it's became apparent that more people agreed with me than not.

If you're a faithful Beat reader, you may remember that one of the very first installments dealt with the nasty, critical side of fandom. You know the types – the ones who spend so much time hating that nothing could satisfy them. (Seth Rogen summed it up in a pithy quote that, somehow, I only just caught: "They could find out Jesus Christ was making a movie with Frank Miller and they'd say, 'That's a terrible combination!'") But now, I'd like to address the other side of the coin – and yes, one side of it is defaced to help me decide these things – and that's the uncritical element of fandom. It's a side I didn't really grasp until I started writing here, where anything vaguely critical can be followed by screams of "You're such a hater!! You want it to fail!"

When I was at ComicCon, I tried to keep up with the news of the outside world. One of the "quietest" geek stories (and something I would have talked about much earlier, had con and editorial demands not sidetracked me) was the release of The X-Files: I Want to Believe. The bad reviews were pouring in right and left, even garnering heavy discussion on sites where the interests of geekdom are generally disdained. And no matter where you went, the comment fields were populated with X-Philes, and for every one who was verbose and rational, there were ten saying "F--- the haters! They want it to fail!"

Collectibles! Is there any word that can warm a geek heart so quickly? I haven't addressed them here on the Beat, and not only is it long overdue, it's also timely. San Diego ComicCon is only weeks away, and it's practically the Holy Land for collectors. Already, the list of con exclusives has hit the net, and you can smell the Preview Night stampede brewing.

Every year, this buying frenzy fascinates me, and I find myself gaping at the shelves of action figures, statues, and busts. I covet very little in the way of memorabilia, and I'm always wondering about the people who do. How do they afford it? Where do they put it all? Even on the rare occasion that I do long to own something like Sideshow Collectibles' impeccably dressed Lara Croft, the practical half of me can't comprehend spending that kind of money. Even if I had thousands to drop on such things, I don't think I ever would, for the simple reason that I'd have to dust them. Blech.