Welcome to the Age of Not-So-Super Heroes

WordMaster

***BE WARNED: MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MAN OF STEEL, IRON MAN 3 AND CHRONICLE***

            For someone who’s never read a Superman comic or seen any of the dozens of previous TV and film incarnations of the character, I have a lot to say about Man of Steel. I walked into the theater with no real expectations, aside from what I’d heard about the movie’s possible feminist credentials; I’d only agreed to see it in the first place because a few friends wanted to see it, and I always like to be able to form my own opinions, even if those opinions cost $10 a piece. At the very least, I thought, Amy Adams should be a kick-ass Lois Lane, right?

            As it turned out, no. Wrong. Bare-minimum expectations not met. I walked out the theater fuming about the money I’d wasted, which is saying a lot (you’re talking to someone who saw Journey to the Center of the Earth – yes, the one with Brendan Fraser – and The Green Hornet in theaters and had no overwhelming feelings of regret), and struggling to suppress my urge to burst into a needlessly vehement rant like the guy sitting in front of me did to his amused buddies. If I felt betrayed, I could only imagine how someone who actually gave a damn about Superman felt, the countless people who looked forward to this movie the way I looked forward to The Dark Knight Rises.

            It’s a shame because, despite my hatred of Zack Snyder as a director and my indifference to Superman as a character, I genuinely wanted Man of Steel to be good. The dueling teaser trailers got my hopes up with their stark, poignant imagery and refreshing lack of in-your-face CGI; maybe, I thought, Snyder had finally ditched the irritating gimmicks that his previous movies unbearable (the fucking slow-mo and fast-mo in that train scene in Sucker Punch… rrrrrargh!!). Even after 75 years of comic books, radio broadcasts, television serials and feature-length films, it’s clear that Superman still resonates with people, contrary to the popular belief suggesting that his sunny idealism has become irrelevant in our age of antiheroes. In theory, Man of Steel presented a clean slate for the icon, unbound by obligations to follow the continuity of past cinematic efforts and allowing the filmmakers to remodel him for modern sensibilities. In theory, Henry Cavill and Amy Adams seem like spot-on casting choices, with his chiseled, hyper-masculine good looks and her down-to-earth feistiness. In theory, a Christopher Nolan-influenced version of the story, full of post-9/11 angst and moral ambiguity, could have worked.

[In Comic Book Guy voice]: Worst. Adaptation. Ever.

            But, to state the obvious, “in theory” is a far cry from “in reality”. In reality, Cavill has the screen presence of a mannequin, and Adams gets nothing to do. In reality, Man of Steel mistakes realism for sullen gloominess and appears more interested in destroying as much of New York City Metropolis as possible than in exploring its protagonist’s inner turmoil. I’m not even going to get into the movie’s most fiercely debated element, a bold, harrowing decision in theory but in reality an utterly hollow gesture, since the filmmakers can’t be bothered to take out five minutes of that endless, painfully pedestrian punch-fest in order to include a scene like this (that’s right, some random fan on the Internet who hasn’t even seen the movie can write a better ending to Man of Steel than the actual writers of Man of Steel). Of the movie’s numerous flaws, though, the most unforgivable one is its inability to give its hero an identity of his own. With so many decades of lore to draw from, you’d think the filmmakers could create a version of Superman/Clark Kent that feels fresh without abandoning the spirit of the original, but instead, they “reinvent” the character by turning him into a brooding loner who got bullied in school and struggles to control his temper – in other words, he’s Peter Parker meets James Logan meets Bruce Banner, no different from dozens of other superheroes that have graced cinema screens in recent years.

            Man of Steel isn’t the worst movie ever. As my fellow blogger StarGazer mentions in her review, there’s a smattering of things to like, most notably Antje Traue’s deliciously coldhearted performance as a female assassin who gives zero shits about bullets. It is, however, yet another victim of squandered potential, a disease that runs rampant through superhero movies and, really, blockbusters in general. As much as I hate succumbing to cynicism, it’s hard to keep getting excited about these movies when so many of them are basically the same, each one distinguishable from the next only due to the color of the protagonist’s costume and the actor wearing the costume. Ironically for movies about people who can fly, climb walls and do other extraordinary things, they often feel lifeless, devoid of magic, nothing more than merchandise churned out whenever a producer or director thinks his wallet feels a little too thin.

            Around this time last year, I raved that 2012 showed a genre at its best, with the one-two-three punch of The Avengers, The Amazing Spider-Man and The Dark Knight Rises, but while I still consider last year a high point for superhero movies, in retrospect, my optimism seems excessive and presumptuous. If anything, this year’s entries (Iron Man 3 and Man of Steel) indicate that superhero movies still struggle to break free from convention. Part of the problem is that audiences flock to the theater whenever a new one comes out. Someone could make a Captain America movie that’s literally just him punching Nazis for two-and-a-half hours, and people would watch it because it’s fucking Captain America. Forget that what really draws in so-called fanboys (and fangirls, though according to most of Hollywood, they don’t exist) is the prospect of seeing a beloved character come to life on screen, not some juvenile desire to watch shit blow up and dudes with bulging muscles beat up other dudes with bulging muscles. If you suggest that maybe the movie should spend less time flying helicopters into fifteen-story buildings and more time giving the characters actual thoughts and feelings, studios can just say, “Hey, we’re just giving the people what they want,” and you can’t argue because, judging by the box office, that is what “the people” want. Man of Steel made over $150 million in its first weekend alone, and even those deemed disappointments like Green Lantern and X-Men: First Class can reliably generate at least $100 million domestically. What incentive do studios have to actually put effort into superhero movies if they can be lazy and still generate a Hulk-sized pile of money?

            A common response to people who criticize a particular superhero movie or, at times, the genre as a whole for its shallow characters, far-fetched and predictable plots and mindless action scenes is something along the lines of: “What do you expect from a movie about a guy in tights? It’s just supposed to be fun.” Yes, some superhero movies, like Iron Man, work great as frothy popcorn entertainment. But is it really that unreasonable to want a little more variety in my blockbusters? Like, for example, just one complex female or non-white superhero. Or a female director. Or an aesthetic style that’s not shiny and CGI-sleek. People keep acting like superhero movies have to be a certain way – they have to be either lighthearted escapism or angsty morality tale; they have to end in an extravagant battle with tons of special effects and property damage; the hero has to triumph over the villain and get the girl (because, again, women in Hollywood’s world are only love interests, not protagonists). Here’s the thing, though: they don’t have to be like that. At all. Superhero movies are as capable of straying out of traditional boundaries as movies in any other genre. They just don’t because most filmmakers view them as generic action movies dressed up in spandex and a dash of sci-fi/fantasy, and studios don’t give a shit. What separates the good ones from the bad ones depends mostly on how well the cast manages to disguise or compensate for the banality of the plot.

Goodbye, Hayley Atwell. Captain America won’t be the same without you.

Personally, I don’t see why it’s a bad thing to expect more of superhero movies. After all, the genre has spent well over a decade fighting to be taken seriously. Yet even as critics bemoan the state of contemporary mainstream cinema with increasing frequency, most people seem content with the status quo. In fact, it’s almost a point of pride for fans to scoff at the perceived elitism of critics. They can have their pretentious, boring art house movies, the thinking goes; superheroes are ours, and who cares what those snobs think anyway? No one wants a Superman movie resembling The Turin Horse. Still, given the breadth of material available and the intrinsically topical nature of these myths, superhero movies have the potential to dive into weird places and examine timely social and political issues. There’s a reason The Dark Knight is almost universally considered the best superhero movie ever, and it has nothing to do with its “realism” or its somber tone. Instead, it transcends our perception of the superhero genre by generating suspense from the characters and believable stakes (plus, a kick-ass score by Hans Zimmer); exploring its various themes, such as the hero-villain dichotomy, in a nuanced way; and not pandering to die-hard fans of the comics, who often want slavish adaptations rather than self-contained works of art. Speaking of which, I’ve always thought it would be cool to see an original villain; shouldn’t superhero movies be allowed to expand the universes of their written counterparts?

            Every once in a while, superhero movies display flashes of ambition and ingenuity, from the surprisingly intimate romance at the center of The Amazing Spider-Man to the borderline-brilliant twist in Iron Man 3, which makes it all the more disappointing when, for whatever reason, they ultimately decide to play it safe. Although director Marc Webb handles the coming-of-age aspect of Peter Parker’s story with admirable deftness, its power is diluted by the slew of unnecessarily long action scenes, and Iron Man 3 ends up using the Mandarin as comic relief, ignoring a prime opportunity to really mess with superhero tropes and American ideology. Even The Dark Knight Rises concludes on a somewhat conventional note, presenting Batman as a heroic martyr worshipped by the citizens of Gotham despite his previous status as a dangerous criminal; the triumphant tone makes for an emotionally satisfying conclusion, but it seems to contradict the rest of the trilogy’s efforts to portray Batman as anything but a heroic martyr.

I could fill a garbage truck with all the opportunities wasted in this movie.

            For a superhero movie that does take full advantage of the genre’s possibilities, look no further than 2012’s low-budget semi-hit Chronicle. At first glance, and for about fifteen minutes into the movie, it looks no better than any of the other gimmicky “found footage” horror movies that have floated past us in a steady stream ever since 1999’s The Blair Witch Project. But first-time filmmaker Josh Trank, who both directed and co-wrote the movie, defies expectations by using the handheld camera style not only to stage kinetic visual tricks but also to open a window into his troubled protagonist’s mind. Andrew Detmer, played with discreet intensity by Leonardo DiCaprio-lookalike Dane DeHane, is about as troubled as teenagers come, dealing with a cancer-stricken mother, an abusive father, school bullies and newfound powers of telekinesis, and crude cinematography makes his gradual mental breakdown all the more immediate and terrifying. The genius of Chronicle is that you think you’re watching a traditional origin story narrative, with the socially awkward hero acquiring superpowers, making a few mistakes and eventually saving the world from some disaster, but it’s actually the tale of a villain and the hubris mixed with long-simmering rage that leads to his downfall. Here, superpowers aren’t depicted as a cure for society’s problems but as a lethal weapon that can corrupt even the most seemingly innocent of humans. What’s more, when the climax turns downtown Seattle into a battleground, the film makes you feel the tragedy of the situation; it never comes close to glorifying violence and mass destruction (ahem, Man of Steel). Over the past year, Chronicle has gotten somewhat lost in the shuffle, eclipsed by its more expensive counterparts, but truth be told, Hollywood could learn a little from this hidden gem, which craftily subverts superhero blockbusters as well as coming-of-age high school dramas.

If this happens, I would actually be interested in the Fantastic Four reboot.

            Superheroes are an adamantium mine of possibility, but only if filmmakers are willing to dig into it. To paraphrase Alyssa Rosenberg and Joe Gross, it’s time to stop retreading and start thinking bigger. Go ahead, Hollywood. I dare you to surprise me.

Links:

http://blogs.sundaymercury.net/anorak-city/2009/03/win-official-watchmen-film-com.html

http://movies.yahoo.com/blogs/movie-talk/iron-man-3-mandarin-blowback-203853732.html

http://www.scifinow.co.uk/news/29025/captain-america-the-winter-soldier-to-feature-peggy-carter/

http://www.movieweb.com/news/michael-b-jordan-addresses-the-human-torch-fantastic-four-casting-controversy