Nothing prepared Ben Affleck for the real gut punch of being Batman—losing the chance to be a hero in his own son's eyes.
During a GQ retrospective ahead of The Accountant 2, Affleck peeled back the Bat-mask to reveal a surprisingly tender regret. It wasn't the endless criticism (Batman v Superman barely scraped a 29% on Rotten Tomatoes). It wasn't the shattered plans for his solo movie. It was simpler—and far more human. When he showed Batman v Superman to his young son Fin, the boy was terrified.
“And I guess my regret about that movie is that when I went to show it to my son at the time, he was totally too scared to watch it,” Affleck confessed.
Boom. Mic drop. Not the headline anyone expected from Gotham's grizzled guardian.
At the time of Dawn of Justice's release, Fin was just seven. Too young to see Dad break bones and brood in Snyder-vision darkness. Too young to separate Bruce Wayne's scars from Ben Affleck's smile. As Affleck put it, he “lost out on that thing of being Batman” to his son—a moment most actors would kill for.
Now, years later, Fin shrugs at his dad's Dark Knight days.
“You are Batman, right? At one point a long time ago,” he asks.
Affleck's bittersweet answer? “Don't worry about it.”
A Different Kind of Broken
In an era where superheroes often devour actors whole (just ask Andrew Garfield about Spider-Man), Affleck's Batman journey reads like a cautionary tale.
Originally riding high after Gone Girl, Affleck's casting sparked an internet firestorm. (#Batfleck trended before the first trailer even dropped.) His brooding, battered Bruce Wayne—pulled from Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns—offered a bold twist: a Batman who was already broken.
Critics and fans? Split like Gotham itself.
Some praised the realism. Others called it a joyless slog.
And then came Justice League (2017)—a production nightmare so bad, it turned Affleck from future Bat-director to full-on fugitive.
“It broke my heart,” Affleck admitted.
After reshoots, rewrites, and rehab, he tapped out. Hard.
Even Hollywood's endless reboot cycle couldn't lure him back—except for a bittersweet victory lap in The Flash (2023), where, ironically, he said he had the most fun ever playing Batman.
History Repeats Itself—Or Does It?
Affleck isn't the first Batman to wrestle with regret. Michael Keaton ghosted the role after Batman Returns because the scripts got too dumb. Christian Bale turned down Justice League cameos, choosing dignity over easy paychecks.
But what separates Affleck's arc is its deeply personal fallout.
Not studio politics. Not career management.
Family.
In a genre obsessed with legacy—passing mantles, building cinematic universes—it's almost poetic that the one thing Affleck couldn't engineer was being his son's Batman.
Would You Risk It?
Imagine finally becoming a legend—only to find out the person who mattered most didn't see it. Would you still suit up?
Affleck didn't just lose a franchise. He lost a memory he can't reshoot.
You'll either love his honesty—or wonder if Hollywood breaks more heroes than it makes.
Comment below: If you had the Bat-suit, who would you wear it for?
