Recently Viewed: Justice League

How can I describe Justice League without sounding excessively cynical or bitter? Well, while it's not nearly as good as Wonder Woman, it is certainly leagues (ha!) above Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad… but that’s a lot like saying that the Mariana Trench is somewhere between outer space and Hell. So, in the spirit of fairness, I’ll narrow down the frame of reference a bit.

Justice League is the second best superhero movie in which a guy wearing an eyepatch shows up after the end credits to tease a sequel. 

I wanted to believe in this one. I had faith that Zack Snyder would finally pull himself out of his creative slump (I’m the weirdo that actually enjoyed Man of Steel). He was saying all the right things during pre-production, casually name-dropping Seven Samurai as his primary influence. Unfortunately, a family tragedy forced him to exit the project, leaving Joss Whedon to handle the extensive reshoots—and, since WB has attempted so many franchise-wide course corrections that the rudder has broken, the whole goddamn ship ended up running aground. 

There’s no Jaws or Star Wars style success story here: the troubled production is evident in every frame, starting with the decision to butcher the film down to just under two hours. A narrative like this requires room to breathe, to properly develop the characters and establish the stakes so that the viewer becomes invested in the conflict. Here, however, the action careens from scene to scene without any connective tissue: the heroes show up somewhere, deliver exposition with all the grace of Doomsday crashing through downtown Metropolis, fire off a few jokes, maybe punch something, and then move on. Even Superman’s miraculous resurrection occurs so abruptly, and with so little buildup, that it’s almost as hilarious as Batfleck cussing. 

Almost. 

Ultimately, Justice League’s greatest sin is wasted potential. You could build a fairly decent standalone drama around Ray Fisher’s Cyborg, but the overarching plot buries his character arc. Steppenwolf (voiced by Ciaran Hinds, who has also portrayed King Claudius in Hamlet) barely begins to suggest the utter insanity that is Jack Kirby’s Fourth World/New Gods mythology, reducing him to little more than DC’s third consecutive Big Armored Bad Guy with Horns. And, as delightful as it is to hear Danny Elfman’s score evoke John Williams, Hans Zimmer, and even his own 1989 Batman theme, his new compositions aren’t terribly memorable. There may have been a fun comic book flick amidst all these missed opportunities at some point… 

I just wish it hadn’t been left on the cutting room floor.

Random Thought Before Bed: My Informal Pitch for the Next DCEU Film

In order to protect his criminal empire from the rising threat of costumed vigilantes, the diabolical mastermind known only as The Penguin assembles the world’s deadliest team of super villains: Mr. Freeze, Captain Cold, Icicle, and Killer Frost.

Together, they form...

The Just Ice League!

The Art of Heroic Villainy

[SPOILERS for Man of Steel, Thor: The Dark World, and Captain America: The Winter Soldier below. You've been warned.]

Unlike some Marvel movie fans, I don't feel that Thor: The Dark World (2013) is a bad film, necessarily. It does, however, suffer from one glaring, nearly fatal flaw. To phrase it at least somewhat politely, Malekith is an extremely lackluster villain. His goal: to extinguish all life in the multiverse, because his race existed first... or something. He's a generic Evil Overlord with a generic Evil Plan. He looks cool and intimidating, does some unquestionably nasty things (killing Thor's mom, for one), and is summarily dispatched by the good guys without leaving much of an impression on the viewer. In short, he serves his narrative purpose, nothing more.

Of course, that's all a villain is really obliged to do, but for the sake of comparison, let's briefly examine Michael Shannon's interpretation of General Zod from WB's Man of Steel (also released in 2013).

While the two characters appear to be remarkably similar on a superficial level--each is the leader of a nearly extinct race willing to sacrifice humanity to ensure the survival of his own people--one vital difference distinguishes the mad Kryptonian from the tyrannical Dark Elf: whereas Malekith is a walking plot device, seemingly devoid of any semblance of inner-life, Zod legitimately believes that he is the hero of Man of Steel's story. True, he is willing to commit genocide on a global scale, but only because he wishes to create a new home for his devastated race. In his own words: "I protect Krypton. That is the sole purpose for which I was born. And everything I have done, no matter how violent or cruel, has been for the greater good of my people." Indeed, Zod is so passionate in the pursuit of this "noble" ambition (unlike the cold, emotionless Malekith, who extols his own righteousness with the conviction of a man reading his lines off of cue cards) that his (literally) earth-shattering climactic rampage is motivated by no less than his complete and utter failure as a "hero." With his loyal followers banished once more to the Phantom Zone and the genetic legacy of Krypton reduced to ash at his feet, Zod has been robbed of the only purpose he has ever known, and so resolves to destroy everything that Superman, the person responsible for his torment, holds dear--until, finally, the Big Blue Boy Scout is forced to put the madman out of his misery.

Marvel's own work provides another appropriate example. Captain America: The Winter Soldier's Alexander Pierce, played by an earnest and grandfatherly Robert Redford, is compelling and nuanced in every way that Malekith is not. The de facto leader of the faction of HYDRA zealots that has grown like a cancer within the highest ranks of SHIELD, Pierce honestly believes that his unambiguously evil actions are morally justified. From his twisted point of view, HYDRA is the only force capable of saving mankind from itself; the loss of personal freedom and a few million lives are a small price to pay in the struggle to impose order upon a chaotic world. The sickening double-think involved in Pierce's rationalization of his crimes--and, more importantly, its undeniable similarity to SHIELD's own mission statement and methodology--shapes the film's central thesis and informs much of Cap's evolution as a character.  While any good story should ultimately focus on the protagonist's journey, an adequately developed villain has the potential to deeply enrich the conflict, illuminate new facets of the hero's characterization, and/or clarify the overarching theme. I hope that, moving forward, Marvel will follow the example set by Winter Soldier and leave flat, uninspired creations like Malekith far, far behind.

[For other posts I've written on the subject of villains, click here.]

The Cinematic Superhero Arms Race

I knew that The Avengers would inevitably change how both the moviegoing public and Big Executives perceived the superhero sub-genre; no film rockets past the one billion dollar mark without leaving a long, wide wake. Indeed, I’ve previously expressed the opinion that Joss Whedon’s pitch perfect adaptation of the aesthetic and tone of those classic Silver Age stories represented a larger shift in the audience’s attitude towards the cinematic depiction of costumed characters—an attitude also reflected in The Dark Knight Rises, which saw Bruce Wayne claw his way out of a literal and metaphorical pit of despair in order to become the symbol of hope that Gotham needed (a strikingly optimistic conclusion to Christopher Nolan’s “grim and gritty” Batman saga).

Yes, I knew that change was inevitable. I’m just shocked that it’s happening so quickly. Consider the recently released trailer for The Amazing Spider-Man 2, which shows off everyone’s favorite wall-crawler’s vibrant, colorful new outfit (redesigned to more closely resemble the one in the source material), not to mention roughly three hundred bad guys that promise to provide plenty of diverse and visually breathtaking action sequences, far more ambitious than anything glimpsed in either Webb’s previous film or the entirety of Raimi’s trilogy. The explosive, iconic imagery sends a clear message: if The Amazing Spider-Man was Sony’s response to Batman Begins (a more grounded, “realistic” approach to superhero storytelling), then the sequel is obviously intended to be its answer to The Avengers, with all the brightness and humor and fun that such a project demands. Even what little is revealed of the plot and structure is reminiscent of Marvel’s financial juggernaut, albeit in reverse (a shadowy corporation conspires to assemble a team of dastardly villains)—a tantalizing hint that Sony aims to follow Marvel’s example and expand its cinematic Spidey-verse, opening up the franchise to countless narrative opportunities.

Consider also the fact that Bryan Singer recently teased that X-Men: Days of Future Past, the series’ most blatantly and shamelessly “comic book-y” installment to date (if you were to view the first movie in a vacuum, the very idea of time travel would seem absurd and inconceivable), will be followed by a film featuring Apocalypse, traditionally one of the team’s deadliest foes, as its central antagonist. And we mustn’t forget the long-awaited confirmation that Wonder Woman will be joining Batman in Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel sequel, nor should we neglect the persisting rumors that Nightwing will also be putting in an appearance. These carefully calculated creative decisions demonstrate that Fox and W.B. likewise intend to build upon their existing superhero franchises (“bigger is better” appears to be the new unifying theme, replacing buzzwords like “dark” and “mature”), providing hardcore fans with plenty of incentive to return to the theater year after year after year.

The conflict between Marvel, Warners, and the rest can thus no longer be classified as mere “competition”; The Dark Knight and The Avengers have inspired all-out warfare, with every major studio scrambling to discover the magic money-printing formula and release the next multi-billion dollar blockbuster. I find the entire situation very exciting… and more than a little terrifying. After all, is the cinematic equivalent of an arms race really what audiences need right now? Will this new, Marvel-inspired approach inject fresh voices into the larger pop cultural conversation that the superhero sub-genre represents?

Or will filmmakers’ overzealous efforts to please longtime comic book fans ultimately impede their ability to tell compelling, coherent, and accessible stories?

In Defense of Man of Steel: 3 Points Illustrating That Zack Snyder's Interpretation of Superman is True to the Selfless Spirit of the Character

1. He literally can’t stop saving people. Seriously, the fact that he has to spring into action whenever lives are at risk (from a submerged school bus to a flaming oil platform), thus leaving a long and distinct trail of breadcrumbs, is what allows Lois Lane to so easily deduce his true identity and track him straight to his front door. Sounds like Superman to me.

2. He surrenders himself to the military for the greater good. He allows himself to be handcuffed, interrogated, and offered up as a sacrifice to General Zod, all because there’s a remote chance that his compliance will shield the people of Earth from the power-hungry Kryptonian’s wrath. If these aren’t the actions of a hero…

3. He kills Zod. I know this aspect of the character has been widely criticized as the film’s most significant departure from the “classic” Superman, but examine the context of the scene: Zod, driven into a genocidal rage by his perceived loss of purpose, is directly threatening the safety of a handful of innocent bystanders—and, implicitly, the rest of the human race (he certainly doesn’t intend to stop his murder spree with one family). Rather than allow his fellow man to be vaporized before his eyes, Superman crosses what is clearly a personal moral boundary (that’s a cry of anguish, not bloodlust) and snaps his enemy’s neck. Just because he’s forced to make difficult choices for a change doesn’t mean that he values sentient life any less.

[Yes, I’m still stuck on this.]

Random Thought Before Bed: My Informal Pitch for a Man of Steel Sequel

Plot: Years after discovering his true heritage, Kal-El (Henry Cavill), now a full-time protector of the innocent, unearths a lost marvel of Kryptonian technology: a time machine that will allow him to experience, albeit briefly, life on his ancestral home world. The Krypton he visits, however, exists in a parallel universe, wherein General Zod (Michael Shannon) not only succeeded in overthrowing the ruling class, but also joined forces with Jor-El to prevent the planet’s cataclysmic destruction. By all appearances, Zod is a benevolent leader, guiding Krypton towards a new age of peace and prosperity… but beneath the facade, he is a brutal military dictator, maintaining harmony by eradicating those he deems inferior—including his own ally’s illegally-delivered infant son. When Zod sets his sights on this alternate reality’s version of Earth (intent on sharing his peoples’ wealth and good fortune), Superman must grapple with his lingering sense of guilt and find the fortitude to, once again, take his foe’s life for the greater good—this time without the aid of his fantastic superhuman abilities. 

Random Thought Before Bed: Give Batfleck a Chance

No, Ben Affleck wasn't my first choice to inherit the role of Batman. He probably wouldn't have been my hundredth choice. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to give his performance a fair chance. Consider this: If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that the guy from Gigli would become an Oscar-winning filmmaker within a decade, do you think he/she would believe you? Between Argo, The Town, and Gone Baby Gone, Affleck has accumulated a whole lot of good will as an artist, while Chasing Amy, Smokin' Aces, and Hollywoodland clearly demonstrate that he can deliver a solid performance even when he's not directing himself. I'd never argue that Affleck has an unblemished track record, but I have plenty of faith in his ability to surprise me. [The same way that fellow from Mr. Mom surprised audiences back in 1989, I'm sure.]

Dissecting a Scene (Mini): Man of Steel, part 2

Man of Steel is an origin story. Any meaningful discussion of the film's "collateral damage" controversy must address this point. This version of Superman is hardly the veteran superhero that comic book fans are used to. Many of his more awesome powers remain untested--we even watch him struggle through the difficult process of learning to fly. He lacks any sort of combat experience--how could he possibly practice on a word as fragile as Earth? And when he finally does fight, his opponents are trained soldiers, genetically engineered and conditioned for war. Clark's only advantage is that he is somewhat more comfortable with his powers, having grown up with them--and Zod's ability to quickly adapt in the heat of battle renders even that obsolete. At no point is Superman in complete control of the situation. When you consider all of the above factors, mass destruction is an inevitable outcome of the climactic brawl. And I do not for a second believe that this represents thoughtlessness on the part of the creative team; it is, rather, a deliberate, intentional decision. Taking a page from Nolan's playbook, Goyer and Snyder wanted to ground their superhero story in a recognizable (though not necessarily "realistic"--that is an important distinction) setting. Examining the consequences of Big Comic Book Action (a callback to John Kent's anxiety over how mankind will react to the truth about his adopted son, perhaps?) simply reinforces this concept.

The Anatomy of a Scene: Man of Steel

“What happens when a man who hates killing finds himself in a situation that demands lethal force—indeed, in which killing becomes a moral obligation?”

That compelling ethical dilemma drives Man of Steel’s climax to its sudden, shocking conclusion, and I, for one, applaud Zack Snyder and David Goyer for having the courage to challenge Superman—a character that, as traditionally written, has often had it far too easy—in such a meaningful fashion. The instant of General Zod’s gruesome death—emotionally engaging, deftly orchestrated, and dense with conflict—is what pushed me over the edge, convincing me that Man of Steel was not simply another loud, vapid summertime diversion, but rather a shining example of intelligent, insightful storytelling.

You can imagine how dismayed I was, then, to see so many cynical fans criticize the Snyder/Goyer version of Superman—who kills a grand total of one person, and only when his hand is forced—for allegedly emulating bloodthirsty, “grim and gritty” anti-heroes like Wolverine and the Punisher, to the extent that he is, apparently, no longer recognizable. These fans, I think, are too caught up in their idealized, inflexible interpretation of the Big Blue Boy Scout; they react as though Clark’s decision to snap Zod’s neck occurs in a vacuum, either downplaying, distorting, or outright ignoring the context that shapes the controversial moment.

Let’s examine the scene more closely to illuminate the true implications of Superman’s choice:

1. Clear and Present Danger: In his final moments, Zod poses an immediate threat to the people of Metropolis. Momentarily subdued by Superman’s headlock, the mad general, well beyond the point of insanity, lashes out at the most convenient target: an innocent family, cornered by a pile of rubble. Clark, likely exhausted by the prolonged, destructive battle, is confronted with a clear choice: end his enemy’s life or allow the helpless bystanders to die. The correct course of action, while abhorrent, is plainly obvious.

2. A Last Resort: Clark does not arrive at the decision to use lethal force lightly. Before he delivers the killing blow, he begs, bargains, and pleads with Zod to show mercy. “Don’t do this,” he cries as his foe’s heat vision burns ever closer to the cowering civilians. “Stop! Stop!” But Zod refuses, forcing Superman to follow the only remaining course of action.

3. Zod’s Last Words: “This can only end one way, Kal-El. Either you die, or I do!” This chilling declaration suggests that Zod’s violent rampage is not merely motivated by homicidal rage, but also by suicidal rage. Robbed of the purpose for which he was genetically engineered, Krypton’s military leader has lost the will to live. His intent, then, is to force Superman to end his suffering—even if he has to wipe out all human life to do so. His blunt response to Clark’s desperate pleas only reinforces this interpretation: “Never.” He will not stop with one family. His spree will only end when he lies dead… or Earth lies in ruins.

4. Superman’s Emotional Response: One of the fundamental rules of effective storytelling is “Show, Don’t Tell.” Rather than having their hero repeatedly insist that he does not kill, Snyder and Goyer craft a dramatic situation that illuminates the why of his moral stance. Clark meets his villain’s demise not with a howl of triumph, but with a cry of anguish. He embraces Lois and literally weeps for his fallen foe—the last remaining link to his lost heritage. Like the classic Man of Tomorrow, he thinks not of the billions of lives he was able to protect, but of the one he failed to save.

In conclusion, Man of Steel’s take on Krypton’s Last Son is no heartless murderer, but neither is he the godlike paragon of virtue that comic book readers are accustomed to. Like any other man, he struggles to do what is right in a world in which morality is a sea of gray. That, I think, is the deeper truth that Man of Steel illuminates: Superman is not a hero because he always knows exactly how to respond to any given crisis, but because he has the courage to put aside his own reservations and make difficult choices in the interest of the greater good.

Truth, Justice, and Optimism: Dissecting the Themes of Three Recent Superhero Films

1. The Dark Knight Rises: After his body and spirit are broken, Batman must claw his way out of a literal pit of despair in order to save his beloved city from certain destruction. In the process, he shows the people of Gotham that anybody can be a hero (see: John Blake).

2. Man of Steel: After inadvertently attracting extraterrestrial fugitives to Earth, Superman must choose between his heritage and his upbringing in order to save mankind from extinction. In the process, he brings out the best in humanity, giving them "an ideal to strive towards" (see: Perry White). 

3. The Avengers: Six bickering assholes must tolerate each other long enough to thwart an alien invasion. In the process, they wipe out an entire extraterrestrial race (see: Tony Stark) before casually eating lunch in the rubble of the ruined city.

I'm sorry, which of these films best represents the inherent hope and optimism of the superhero genre again?

NOTE: I actually enjoy The Avengers quite a lot; this post is, more than anything, a response to certain vocal fans'... shall we say selective interpretation of Man of Steel's ending. Remember, no work of art is immune to criticism, and anybody can play the nitpicking game.

On Endings: Man of Steel (Spoilers)

God damn it, Man of Steel! How could you get the characterization of such an iconic hero so wrong? Superman would never kill. Even if there were innocent lives at risk, he would still find another--

Dammit, no! Doomsday doesn't count, he's basically a robot. Sentient lifeforms are different; Clark wouldn't--

Okay, so he killed Zod in Superman II. But that's another movie! It's different in the comics.

...shit.