Superheroes: The fast food of the silver screen

As I write this, I want to make clear that this piece has no political undertones or inclinations, nor do I have any irrational bias against the superhero genre. In fact, I will profess no opinion that is entirely and purely my own. Why should I? I am nobody to call out a billion dollar industry that means so much to so many people, and also does quite a lot of good work in several areas with respect to dealing with numerous political, social and cultural problems. All I will attempt to do is look at what some of the brightest minds in cinema and satire have to say about the industry and attempt to decipher the reasoning behind their claims.

Here are what some of those minds have to say regarding this conflicted genre.

Many famous directors with considerable artistic talent have dipped their toes in this pool. Taika Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit, has in more recent memory, told a beautiful, hopeful tale of a young boy fighting the evil entrapments of fascism and indoctrination while on a journey to rediscover his innate humanity. Oscar nominations aside, this simple, yet marvellous story leaves us with a message that resonates with as much importance today as it did in the 1940s. Yet, he is also the creative torchbearer for the character of Thor, a Marvel lynchpin. Similarly, Christopher Nolan’s work in movies like the Prestige, Inception and Interstellar have earned him a seat in the cinematic Hall of Fame and established his credentials as one of the greatest storytellers of all time. For a large section of the movie going populus, however, his magnum opus is the Dark Knight trilogy, in particular, the titular namesake movie. Whatever our feelings regarding this statement may be, it is true. The Dark Knight is without a doubt a cinematic masterclass, a fantabulous exercise in storytelling and character development. Another superhero movie to receive similar adulation is James Mangold’s Logan, the heart-wrenching conclusion to the Wolverine story-arc. It is clearly possible, therefore, that talented, art-oriented filmmakers can engage in this genre and create stories that carry great moral, emotional and aesthetic substance. In other words, superhero movies aren’t crap simply because they’re superhero movies.

This is where the cognitive dissonance begins to kick in. For instance, Nolan’s trilogy truly gained universal acceptance for its dark, gritty, realistic narrative and relatable characters. It had protagonists, not heroes. They made mistakes, they had insecurities and doubts about their style and they were routinely shown to pay heavily for their choices and learn to live with the price of their decisions. Heck, Batman had a depression goatee at one point. Most importantly, while Nolan’s characters seemed larger than life, they earned their image, and they took their viewers along with them on a journey full of pathos and humanity. This was a sea change from the way comics were written and comic book movies were made. In other words, Nolan’s superhero movies were accepted by critics because they were not like superhero movies.

Similarly, James Mangold openly confessed to the fact that his distaste for the genre was what inspired him in the rather novel storytelling approach he adopted in Logan. What ensued was a movie with an indie feel to it. The world didn’t need saving, the ‘hero’ wasn’t a bright eyed optimist chasing the stars, he was a poisoned terminal patient whose battle with pain turned him into a bitter cynic incapable of helping his own daughter without coaxing. The villain was someone who exists in real life too, greedy corporations. If you think that an entity which pays its chairman in the billions while its employees starve on food stamps and rations isn’t evil, you watch too many superhero movies. Spoiler alert: Elon Musk is not Tony Stark. The point is, Logan was loved by critics and fans alike because it did not indulge in an orgy of CGI explosions and effects, or huge high stakes gambles. It was a story of a man who protected a bunch of innocents from the prying hands of profiteers.

Sadly, not all superhero movies carry the same amount of weight as the aforesaid examples. They are, for lack of a better word, empty calories. Sure, the CGI makes for some visual spectacles and the appeal from the story, simplistic and linear as it is, is nigh universal. However, these movies, especially within the last decade, have lost all semblance of depth. To put it in the words of Martin Scorcese, they are not cinema, but theme parks. Scorcese drew a lot of flak from the production house he was referring to and their filthy rich studio overlords for apparently failing to appreciate these movies. Imagine having the audacity to tell one of the greatest filmmakers of all time that what he said was wrong simply because he couldn’t get their movies. Movies that a 7 year old has no problem understanding. Much before this, upon the passing of Stan Lee, Bill Maher, a satirist, had alluded to a similar problem, albeit in a rather harsher tone that may not have befitted the occasion. He was heckled and harassed online for his troubles. It is this kind of denial, the inability to accept the fact that these movies have traded their soul for profits, that has seen such a deep decline in the artistic value of the genre.

Maher’s analysis isn’t far from the truth. Comic books are great vehicles of entertainment and can be used to ingrain fundamental values like truth, equality, justice and responsibility in young children. However, problems arise when they rise beyond their simplistic nature and seek to assume a position of influence beyond what their artistic worth allows. Comic books and consequently, the current iteration of superhero movies, despite their appeal and universal outreach, cannot replace conventional cinema simply because the formula that is used to make these movies as it is simply does not allow room for that. Moreover, the standardization of superhero stories in terms of plot may guarantee financial success by means of a proven method, but it takes away creative license and artistic flair from the storytellers. What ensues is a movie franchise with repetitive themes with each movie desperately trying to establish an individual identity while tussling simultaneously to fall in line with the bigger picture. In the end, we’re left with a clutter of movies that are so similar in terms of plotlines and content that were it not for the rather unique characters, each story when stripped down is essentially the same. Worst of all, the movies end up suffering an identity crisis of sorts, with them failing to attain any individual importance. In the mad rush to put the affairs of the franchise in order and set up the whole cinematic universe, directors tend to sideline the little picture, rather literally. Most movies serve no purpose but to introduce the character to the franchise and set him or her up for the crossover/team-up blockbusters. Any attempt for creative maneuvering, due to the risk of failure, would disrupt the rhythm of the franchise itself, and is therefore discouraged.

This is where the biggest fracture to modern day comic book movies arises. Cinema as an art is fraught with risk. The more you risk, the greater your art. Nobody would watch movies or rate them if they all meandered around the same constant, convenient stories. Variety is the spice of life and art imitates life. Due to this self imposed lack of variety, superhero movies with no creative nous fall flat and bland. Sure, they stir up all sorts of emotions while it is being watched, but when you sit back to analyse and deconstruct it, there wouldn’t be anything worth remembering. That’s the key difference between true cinema and superhero movies: true cinema sticks with you, because each movie has its own distinct flavour. On the other hand, almost every superhero movie has the protagonist fighting either an army of forgettable CGI henchmen or a forgettable rip-off of the hero himself. Pick a superhero movie, any one, and tell me this formula doesn’t apply. Even if it doesn’t, there’s no guarantee that it is a good movie.

However, all of the blame for the short handedness of this genre cannot rest with the creators. This is because the genre in itself has certain inbuilt inadequacies and fallacies. The superhero genre is predominantly geared towards the child/pre-teen/sub-adult demographic. This is evinced by the fact that most of its movies are rated accordingly. Most of their message and storytelling is thus geared towards children and the like. This leads to two problems, one leading to the other.

Firstly, writers cannot address issues within their story that would be considered inappropriate for their target demographic. This is what Scorcese’s criticism was directed at. Cinema often covers every aspect of human life, including ones that adults encounter. This all-roundedness is what imbues it with life; the fact that every person watching it can relate to it. Do note that I do not in any way seek to intend that childrens’ movies cannot be critically acclaimed. However, superhero movies fall into that unfortunate middle ground wherein they cannot be unabashedly naive like a kids’ movie, while they also cannot be wantonly cynical or brutally honest in the tone of regular cinema. This, combined with the burden of having to prop up a dozen other movies which may not even have been conceived, causes a huge creative burden that is often insurmountable. It would take a truly epic story like the Dark Knight, or the culmination of a series of movies like Logan, to set up a superhero story that actually moves the artist in a viewer. Moreover, superhero movies are so absorbed by themselves that they have very little time to pause for a message. The moral or takeaway from the movie is incidental, as most fans of the genre would openly admit that they pay for the tickets to watch their heroes basically smash stuff in creative ways. It’s not possible for a superhero movie to sit and examine the issues arising out of neglect to mental health. There’s too much collateral damage to do, too many cities to drop from the sky to make time for that. It’s simply more convenient to lock all the loonies away in Arkham Asylum.

This reservation causes a second, underlying problem that is even more malignant than the first. This problem is what Bill Maher bashed in his segment. When superhero movies are constrained as stated above, they usually end up pandering to the masses by spinning out insipid, dangerously naive storytelling. The heroes tend to become all encompassing. The laws don’t apply to them. They could singlehandedly destroy cities in combat or cause global catastrophes due to an ‘honest mistake’ and get away with it by saving the day. Rather shockingly, a message reeking of superiority and lack of accountability is created. Quotes like “With great power comes great responsibility.” are just used as catchphrases to be printed on merchandise while the hero goes about doing the exact opposite of what the message seeks to convey through the entirety of the movie. I know I sound like J Jonah Jameson, but hear me out. Imagine if there is a law that seeks to prohibit unilateral military invasion and military presence on foreign soil by any big power, with this law signed and ratified by over 130 nations in the UN. If any country failed to agree to this and decided to operate their military powers with impunity, a la Russia or North Korea, the reaction from the world would be one to watch out for. On the other hand, Captain America does the exact same thing, and nearly half of the people who watched the movie sided with his stance. Why?

Superheroes in movies have a disdain for the rule of law, be it explicit or implicit. They believe that they answer to a greater authority of morality. It is this belief that allows Batman to trash thugs to an inch of their life while the law would deem him as much a criminal for that as the poor sod whose bones he just broke. While this works in the comics because of Batman’s iron clad moral code, the movie fails to tell you that Batman’s code is as fictional as Batman himself. Instead, it inspires into the naive audience a sense that if they feel something is right, they ought to stand by it, even if the whole world, and the law itself says otherwise. In most cases, these real life ‘heroes’ have a much more flawed decision making prowess than the reel life ‘heroes’. Furthermore, real life problems are much more gray and complex than the ones in superhero movies. While it is easy and satisfying to punch the Joker in the face, it is much harder in real life to deal with criminals with unsound minds. This problem of ridiculously simplifying problems has severe real world implications. People are led to believe that all governments are corrupt, and that all problems could be solved by the swish of a cape. The governments don’t do that because they are slow, corrupt and walled off by red tape, and not because there is a ridiculously complicated procedure in place which has to be followed, or laws be adhered to. Therefore, these self-styled self-righteous heroes develop an air of moral superiority that they carry into everything and take no responsibility or consequence . Think of it this way, every time Superman walks away from a building he destroyed after defeating a villain, leaving firemen to clean up his mess, it shows to a regular Joe that so long as you do it for the right reasons, you can do just about anything and get away with it, because someone else is always there to clean up your messes. If they don’t, you can always blame them for being incompetent. In the end, you decide what is right, you do everything to fight for it, and accountability is as alien to you as Superman is to earth.

So where did superheroes go so wrong? After all, they did start out as ideologues. Superman was created to fight the hopelessness that engulfed the US during the Great Depression, with people who watched an American symbol capable of miraculous feats getting inspired to get out of their own quagmire. Captain America was the little guy who was willing to give his life to end Nazism. The discord begins with the fact that the writers made these characters nigh-incorruptible. Any mistakes they made were attributed to mind-control, a loss of emotions or the like. If they did make mistakes without any of these excuses, they were cast as outright villains. In the minds of their readers, it is impossible for people to make mistakes and still be good people. Unfortunately, only the Sith deal in absolutes.

Secondly, the writers were so busy pumping trying to pump the little guy with steroids to turn him into a hero that they forgot that the little guy was the hero all along. It doesn’t take the biggest or mightiest to be the bravest, or the best. Allow me to illustrate.

Let us compare your average superhero movie to the Lord of the Rings, one of the greatest franchises of all time. You have the same unnamed, overpowered villain, the same henchmen, the same CGI and everything. The similarities are rather surprising. So why is a standard superhero movie a candle before the sun that the Lord of the Rings is?

The answer is simple. The main protagonist in this story isn’t Aragorn, or Gandalf, or Legolas. It is little Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. They’re not great warriors, they don’t know magic, they need 6 meals a day. They’re flawed, Frodo is tempted by the power of the Ring and visibly struggling to cope with it. Smeagol tries to reform himself but fails. In other words, they’re so damn relatable. If Samwise Gamgee can leave the comfort of the Shire to travel to morbid Mordor in order to help his friend save the world, without any superpowers and such nonsense, what’s your excuse?

The Lord of the Rings has all the same fantastical elements and the naivete of the superhero genre. However, it makes an important distinction by not stepping on the little guy, and handing just as much, if not greater responsibility to him in the fight against evil. Everyone can’t be Tony Stark, but they sure as hell can be Frodo Baggins.

As I conclude, I’d like to state that I too am an avid watcher of superhero movies. Superheroes don’t suck. That’s oversimplifying things. It’s hard to say Batman isn’t cool, or that Superman isn’t inspiring and not lie to yourself. Superhero movies evoke emotions like regular cinema too, albeit not lasting ones. The distinguishing feature between regular cinema and these theme parks is that they are extremely detached from reality, and they make no effort whatsoever to bridge that gap, nor do they seek to advertise it. So long as you mind the gap, it is a pleasurable experience to watch superhero movies, much like it is a pleasurable experience to visit a theme park to unwind. In the end, though, you have to know that it is not real. You have to know that there is nothing in those movies that you can take as it is, without making any changes whatsoever, and apply to your daily life. In other words, these movies are the fast food of cinema. They’re great to watch/eat, they’re enjoyable while they last, but in the end, with very few notable exceptions, they’re junk.

PS- If you want an unfiltered view on what super powered beings would actually look like in our world, watch The Boys. You’re in for quite a rude awakening.

~Pranaam