The Man of Steel Has No Heart

Somewhere, in the infinite wibbly wobbly sort-of sphere that is the utterly incomprehensible concept of the space-time continuum there exists me. Not as I am now, but 5 years old. Cherub-cheeked, rosy-haired and about as mature as I am today. At this particular junction of the dimensions that make up our understanding of space, I am clutching an odd chunk of plastic. As it happens, this plastic is filled with electronics, connected to another full-bellied hunk of plastic (which happens to be totally cool see-through neon green, way rad). With just a jolt of electricity, these little marvels of technology transport me through another world, and that the time I am describing, I am currently in the world of Superman 64, for the Nintendo 64.

By any standards, the game is dreadful. Horribly programmed, ugly to look at, unresponsive, almost no audio track to criticize in the first place, and a complete disregard for the character of Superman. Yet it has gotten one thing right – I can fly. It lets me control Superman, in full three dimensions, and fly where I may please. I care not what my objective is or what asinine task the game demands of me – I fly. I spend hours and hours and hours of my life flying up and down the same repeating city block that passes for Metropolis. Why do I do it?

Because of the joy of Superman. Yes, for all his responsibility, pain, and burden, Superman represents equal parts joy, hope, and inspiration. This, for me, is the most essential element of Big Blue – so powerful it alone can possess my younger self’s mind through perhaps one of the worst man-made human experiences. Superman is just as much man as he is super- it doesn’t really matter, as cool as it may be, that he’s punching an evil dictator from War World through a skyscraper. What really matters is he takes the time to ensure the old man caught in the fire escape of said skyscraper is safe, secure, and personally delivered to the comfort of his ancient Cadillac before flying around to smack said evil dictator on the other side of the skyscraper.

Grant Morrison does this best in his All-Star Superman, where Kal-El takes the time on his way to save the world (by sacrificing his life, no less) to stop and comfort a troubled teenage girl, catching her just as she prepares to jump from a rooftop. “You’re stronger than you know,” are his words to her, and this is the ultimate message Superman tells us. We just need to summon the courage and resolve hop into a nearby phone booth and reveal the bright primary-colored tights and cape waiting underneath.

I took my time to explain that very vital element of Superman because Man of Steel seems to miss it, and without that, it doesn’t matter if their Clark Kent is made of steel, because there’s no true Superheart beating underneath those massive pecs.

Allow me this small defense; I have absolutely nothing against reinterpretations of classic characters. As a hopeful scribbling nerd, I hope to offer my own reimagining of our beloved modern pantheon to the world, be they DC or Marvel or Dark Horse or Millarworld or whatever. Some of my favorite books are Brian Michael Bendis’ Ultimate Spider-Man and the New 52’s Action Comics, for example. But these reimaginings give us fresh, new spins of the character while still retaining the essential, source “ness” of those characters. We learn more about ourselves and our favorite characters by getting to see previously hidden sides of them, yet the fuzzy outline that makes the character, the “ness”, is all there. Without that, points are rendered moot. Imagine, for example, a Spider-Man who  never really felt guilty about his uncle’s death, but fought crime because it was cool. I am sure you can already hear the furious pounding of keyboard keys already at my mere mentioning of the idea (for now it exists, adrift, in the superhero Zeitgeist, searching for some stereotypical fat cat Hollywood producer to sacrifice virgin actresses’ careers and many millions at its greasy altar). That doesn’t work because that’s not Spider-Man. Responsibility towards humanity, as a human, is an essential building block of Spider-Man, be it in the year 2099 or an alternate dimensional earth ruled by furries (unfortunately, the latter is as real as the former).

Man of Steel’s eponymous character is not the protector we all know. We invented Superman because even in the deepest pits of our despair, the Great Depression, we knew with enough hope and hard work, man could save itself. Superman saves everyone, before anything. In Man of Steel, Superman has no problem destroying his town of Smallville and most of Metropolis in epic fist fights when barren wastelands WITHOUT ANY CIVILLIANS to be doubtlessly crushed by debris, vaporized by heat rays, trapped by wreckage and pounded into pink-red mush by the sonic boom of Kryptonian heymakers are but a single leap away. Superman makes no real effort besides the occasional, “Hey, get inside your houses, it’s not safe.” The very same wooden houses promptly destroyed in the ensuing battle…

Look, I get it. This was supposed to a big summer blockbuster. It’s supposed to be huge, explosive, and a visual spectacle. And without a doubt, it is. It is an absolute thrill to see a visual medium push Superman’s godlike powers to the limit, rather than just have him catch some falling airplanes and call it a day. Christopher Nolan’s influence from the grim eyegasm of the Dark Knight trilogy is apparent here. (and while I’m talking about what I like, let me congratulate Hans Zimmer on what is his best work yet. A gripping, visual soundtrack that always hits the mark. I’ll be listening to it way more than I rewatch the movie). But Superman is not Batman – collateral damage, unavoidable loss, and massive guilt are NOT part of Superman. That’s the whole goddamned point – Superman is powerful enough to save everyone! This visual spectacle comes at the price of the Man of Steel’s soul, leaving him a metallic facsimile of our beloved Supes (though a handsome one). I felt uncomfortable and a bit shocked, honestly to watch Superman let all these people die. And as for the murder of Zod? I’ll get to that in a bit, don’t worry.

The action is intense, visceral (this is an adjective that just tends to follow Nolan around everywhere), and never lets up. But there is no joy in any of it. There is no hope, no happiness, except for a brief scene where Superman learns to fly and smiles a bit, and then promptly rushes off at the speed of mach 5 to..Surrender. Yes, a very heroic entrance for our caped hero. In the movie’s defense, it is an interesting conceit to show Superman surrendering, disarming if you will, as his first action in costume. He’s willing to sacrifice himself to gain the trust of the people he wants to protect. But the movie makes no attempt to demonstrate Superman’s true power before this – he stops no crime, he saves no one, people are just automatically suspicious and cynical of him. Why cynical? This is the movie’s biggest flaw for me. Its cynicism, and I think this is Nolan poking his bat-horned head in again.

Superman is not a cynic, not in the slightest. He’s the opposite. He’s freaking SUPERMAN. The uber-optimist. Nothing can stop this man, and nothing will stop him from doing what is good and right. So why does cynicism seem to ooze from every poor of this movie, from the muted color scheme to John Kent’s character, Superman’s adopted father? I have a huge bone to pick with the movie’s depiction of John Kent. In place of Jor-El, Kal-El is raised on Earth in the heart of America, a farm in BFE, Kansas. His adoptive father instills in him the values we Americans love to tout; integrity, honor, willpower, determination, the whole lot. John Kent should never EVER discourage Clark from being who he is. John Kent is the link between Earth and Krypton, really, alongside Martha Kent. So when a young Clark Kent asks his adoptive father whether he should have held off on saving the BUS FULL OF DROWNING SCHOOLCHILDREN with his superpowers, by no means should John Kent answer “Maybe.” I get it, John wants to keep his son safe from the evil guvernm’nt or whatever, and that’s completely justifiable – but he still should raise his son to be a good man. He even sacrifices himself, risking the death of his wife and dozens of civilians trapped from a tornado, because he doesn’t want Clark to be revealed. How is Clark supposed to grow up with confidence if his own FATHER is scared of him being himself? To really be accepted as a Son of Earth, and not just Krypton? I’m surprised Clark cared much for earth, from what we saw of his upbringing. Oh, and keep and mind the bus scene is one of the few truly heroic, protective things we ever see Clark Kent do (never do we see him do so in costume ). Why cast doubt on it? Why is it negative? Yes, yes, it’s a new Superman for a new age world, that’s dark and real and modern and gritty and not everything’s so clear cut as that old Boy Scout used to make it back in the 30’s…But that is garbage. Malarkey, or however the Irish spell it. The whole point of Superman is to serve of a reminder to us in the darkest of times that those old values STILL MATTER, not that they “maybe” do. (Interestingly enough, compare this depiction of Superman in our mini-recession to the depiction of him in the Great Depression...Just some food for thought on how we handle problems as a society today.)

This cynicism, which I strongly suspect to be carry-over from the Dark Knight trilogy, does not work with Superman. At all. It leaves a depressing, sour taste in my mouth. There is no joy in the movie. I mean, fuck’s sake, I don’t even think they snuck in a, “thank you, Superman!” (on further reflection, this is not surprising, considering that he doesn’t do much saving in the first place) I didn’t come to see Miracleman: The Movie, I came to see an updated, fresh take on the ultimate role model.

I could pick apart some plot points I’m disgruntled with – for example, why didn’t the hyper-evolved Kryptonians have a dozen other Kryptons already? Does no one really ever talk again about a 10 year old boy dragging a school bus out of the river? Why would Zod want to change the earth when he could take it over and remain super-powered, spawning an entire race of super-powered Kyrptonians at his disposal? How do those stupid helmets “filter out” Kryptonian solar-charged senses? I could go on, but I won’t, because honestly you could find plot issue with the best of superhero stories. Superhero fiction’s greatest strength, its incredible flexibility and infinite universes of possibilities, is also its greatest weakness;  endless plot holes. I would be willing to forgive all this if they had gotten CHARACTER right, which the movie does not. Only Martha Kent really felt on point for me, and despite some good performances and one-liners sprinkled throughout, everyone else was off or meh.

Now, on to the most obvious issue. The death of Zod. I’ll keep it simple. What. The. Fuck. Superman doesn’t kill. He knows everyone deserves a second chance, even bad people, and he will fight for that to. All he had to do was just fly out of the building, put his hand over Zod’s eyes, OR LEAVE METROPOLIS IN THE FIRST PLACE LIKE HE SHOULD HAVE DONE IF HE CARED ABOUT PEOPLE SO MUCH. Instead, he snaps Zod’s neck. Really? This is Superman, inspiration to humanity, a “god among them”? What a joke.

I’m going to go steam off my endless nerd rage. If nothing else, I hope this movie encourages people to pick up the excellent Superman titles DC is putting out today, and that the sequel is more on point. Also, the producers who decided to pick David Goyer’s script over those submitted by the likes of Grant Morrison? Damn them. Damn them all.

Keep thinking,

Jordan