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Thursday, June 20, 2013

The ‘S’ Stands for “Snooze”

StarGazer



        Man of Steel starts out promisingly enough. It opens on Krypton as Lara Lor-Van is giving birth to a child we know will become Kal-El/Clark Kent/Superman, and a group of dissidents led by Michael Shannon’s General Zod stages a military coup when the planet’s current leadership refuses to help save their civilization from annihilation brought on by their excessive consumption of natural resources. Though this sequence feels rather derivative thanks to its striking similarities to the prologue for J.J. Abrams’s Star Trek, right down to the heavy use of lens flares, it nonetheless effectively establishes an emotional base that would ideally anchor the rest of the film. Ayelet Zurer as Lara and Russell Crowe, who plays her husband and Superman’s biological father, Jor-El, are convincing even while delivering some grandiose dialogue (indeed, they’re pretty much the only actors in the movie who are able to make the dialogue sound natural), and as Lara watches the spaceship carrying her just-born son disappear into the sky while the world around her literally goes up in flames, you get a real idea of how she and Jor-El have tied up all their hopes and dreams in his survival, of the weight of the burden placed on the shoulders of this child who has only just entered the world. There’s genuine gravity to the situation, but the movie that follows fails to maintain this level of urgency, instead descending into cheap action scenes and Roland Emmerich-level destruction porn.

        One of the difficulties of adapting Superman for the screen has always been in generating meaningful internal – or even external – conflict for a character that is not only essentially invincible, but also sports squeaky-clean morals. As someone who’s completely ignorant about anything comic-book-related, I can’t say whether this lack of complexity has always been part of the character or the result of general pop culture and Hollywood oversimplifying him, but the fact remains that, in a modern age where people are drawn to the troubled darkness of Batman and flawed egotism of Iron Man, Superman, with his boy scout, do-gooder attitude and unabashed optimism, feels out-of-place and un-relatable. Zack Snyder and co. attempt to fix this problem by giving the hero a moody background full of bullying and I-never-asked-for-this angst. After seeing numerous flashbacks of Clark’s childhood, like an episode where he rescue his classmates, including a kid who’d been teasing him, after their school bus careens off the road and into a river, we learn that he’s always been driven by the innate need to help people and that he feels a great sense of alienation, but that’s about it. We never get more than the most basic glimpse of his inner psyche, and even this is largely discarded by the time the movie’s central plot kicks into gear.

        Basically, General Zod and his crew, who were banished from Krypton shortly before the planet’s demise, have survived and now want to restore their society by moving what remains of its populace to Earth; of course, in order to do this, they apparently have to wipe out humanity for vague reasons that seemed to relate to a supremacist view of evolution. With such a cartoonish, generic antagonist to bounce off of, perhaps it’s no surprise that Superman never grows beyond a two-dimensional shadow of a character. Not helping matters is Henry Cavill, the largely unknown British actor chosen to take on the cape previously worn by George Reeves, Christopher Reeve and, most recently, Brandon Routh. With a shock of dark hair, his angular chin and insanely well-sculpted body, he certainly looks the part, but that’s the thing: he doesn’t do much else besides stand around and look heroic. He’s unable to breathe any new life or nuance into the role.

        The rest of the cast doesn’t fare that much better. Unable to overcome the underdeveloped material, Amy Adams turns in a rare lackluster performance as Lois Lane, though she does get one of the film’s more rousing moments when she escapes Zod’s ship with the aid of a computerized hologram of Jor-El. Despite the presence of some big names, including Laurence Fishburne as Lois’s boss Perry White and Kevin Costner and Diane Lane as Clark’s adoptive parents, the only person who makes a memorable impression is Antje Traue, the East Germany-born actress who portrays Zod’s right-hand woman Faora-Ul. Rocking a punk-chic black haircut and a sweet suit of armor, she oozes cold-hearted swagger while gazing at the world around her with an expression of bored condescension, as if to let her opponents know exactly how little they matter to her right before she kills them. She steals the movie without ever seeming to try and brings a roguish wink of fun to an otherwise self-serious affair.

        As disappointing and forgettable as the ensemble cast is, what keeps Man of Steel frustratingly grounded is that, for a major blockbuster about a character meant to embody hope and nobility, the whole thing is awfully joyless. Because the characters are never fleshed out in any meaningful way and David S. Goyer’s script fails to demonstrate how they have been affected by the story’s events, it’s difficult to get fully invested in anything happening onscreen after those initial fifteen minutes. Not even a characteristically epic score from Hans Zimmer that’s reminiscent of his previous work alongside producer Christopher Nolan can get the pulse racing or make the interminable action set pieces feel like anything more than a whole lot of CGI flashes and punching. While he stops short of indulging in the ridiculously over-the-top stylizations that characterized 300 and Sucker Punch, Zack Snyder shows that he still hasn’t learned how to make an action scene exciting, or at least not headache-inducing. He aims to do for Superman what Nolan did for Batman but doesn’t seem to realize that Nolan wasn’t successful simply because he went dark, but rather because he went dark with a purpose. The Dark Knight trilogy explored timely themes and questions in ways that superhero movies had never done before without abandoning the spirit of its source material or the genre.

        By contrast, Man of Steel ladles on the muted colors and portentous dialogue but never bothers saying or doing anything interesting on a character, thematic or even technical level. For instance, the film offers the possibility of an intriguing take on the age-old predestination versus choice question through the Codex, which essentially determines the future of every individual born on Krypton, yet like all the other ideas and arcs it introduces, Man of Steel quickly drops this thread in favor of more heavy-handed, superficially-explored Jesus metaphors and herculean punching (I can really not emphasize enough how much punching there is. The entire climax is just a fistfight on steroids). At no point is Kal-El/Clark Kent’s transformation into Superman presented as anything other than inevitable. The film gets so caught up in his heroics (or, perhaps more accurately, his potential future heroics) that it forgets to remind viewers that even the superhuman are still all-too-human.                 


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