Superman v Captain Jack, Part 1

**I realize I'm a bit late posting on Superman Returns, but, well, better late than never? Actually, the next two or three posts are movies from the summer that I didn't post about at the time but would like to talk about now. Even though it's old, chime in, if you like. We'll get newer ones in soon enough.**

Remember the superhero ‘Who would win?’ game? As in, who would win in a fight between Aquaman and Spiderman (apparently Aquaman, according to the world of Entourage) or Mr. Incredible and Batman (please, he’s not that incredible). The game is interesting enough, especially for the Comic Book Guys of the world (for whom, I sometimes fear, it is no game). But it always stalls out for me at the same point: Superman v. Anyone Else. Who beats Superman? He’s faster than a speeding etc., able to leap tall buildings in a single whatnot, more powerful than a so it goes. Sticky webs, high-tech gadgets, cranky sea creatures, and general stretchiness are no match for Superman. In a world of humans with superhero alter egos, he is a superhero with a human alter ego. The only way to conquer Superman is to craft a plot, find some Kryptonite, and hope for the best.

Such is the plot of Superman Returns. Lex Luther (Kevin Spacey) secures crystals from the Fortress of Solitude, lifts some Kryptonite from a New Yo—oops, Metropolis—museum, and tries to grow a Superman-repellent continent out of the Atlantic Ocean. Spacey, who combines his natural tendency towards sumgness with his ability to portray casually self-confident, Kaiser Sosé-like villains, makes for an appropriate Luther. In any other movie, a widow-swindling, land-seizing, malcontent capitalist hiding beneath a transparent populist veneer could be truly detestable. But when said villain plays opposite Superman, we are mostly left to feel either sorry or embarrassed for him. Perhaps a truly wicked Jezebel could evoke some hate from us, but even Luther’s companion Kitty, played by an always amusing Parker Posey, begins sympathizing with the good guys as soon as the diabolical plot is revealed.

Of course, without Kitty, Superman Returns would deprive us of any sense of moral ambiguity whatsoever. No corrupt cops, no verbally abusive insecure fiancées, no criminals forced into their deeds by desperation. Instead, we are greeted with a squeaky-clean society inconvenienced by the occasional cackling gunman or natural disaster. The only character who isn’t thrilled to have Superman back is Lois Lane (Kate Bosworth)—presumably because she still loves him. Bosworth gives us a Lois Lane who is self-assured and self-reliant; she is no damsel in distress. Yet, while her attempt to resist Superman is a slight breath of fresh air, it is not enough. What was the premise of that Pulitzer Prize-winning article, ‘Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman,’ anyway? And are we really to believe that the return of a unilateral flying policeman who abandoned the world five years ago sparks no sort of political debate or special-interest group demonstration? Superman is so extraordinarily powerful, so unbendingly good, so uncritically accepted that we are given no chance to decide to like him ourselves—his likeability is forced upon us. Either we choose Superman and the world, or we’re in camp with Lex Luther and his nefarious band of career criminals.

So how likeable is Superman, anyway? Brandon Routh is neither disappointing nor delightful. Considering the one-dimensionality of his character, though, he, like the rest of the cast, does well with what he is given; I would simply enjoy the opportunity to see what he could do if given more.

It would not have been surprising if Americans had flocked to Superman Returns in unprecedented numbers, hungry to see a fearless, capable, unconquerable hero who triumphs in the face of chaos. Considering the face of global politics and the US’s current international relationships, perhaps a clearly defined sense of good evil would have been refreshing. But box office numbers were tepid, and Superman Returns faces an ambiguity its characters never do, occupying the limbo between outright blockbuster and big-budget flop. In the end, audiences were looking for another kind of hero altogether...