Post by orangejesus on Aug 3, 2008 2:54:12 GMT -5
I love Superman.
I love Superman.
I love Superman.
You see, I have to keep repeating such a mantra, because it is really hard to remember when I am sitting through this movie.
But then I remember the truth: this isn't actually Superman. It can't be. This is, at best, a bad practical joke played by restless toymakers or, at worst, an outright lie. It can't actually be Superman; you see, it's missing the key ingredients.
Oh, the principle characters are there-- Superman/Clark, Lois, Perry, Jimmy, Lex, Ma Kent. He's wearing the blue suit, and he's got that bitchin' S-shield on the front of it (albeit a much smaller one than the real Supes would be wearing. He's flying around and shooting heat out of his eyes and lifting really heavy objects, like Kryptonite islands.
It even has some of the trimmings. The theme song is intact, and really, it was the best part of the film (I love that song--it is my favorite late-night-drive-with-the-windows-down music), The Daily Planet is there, and even the old Kent farm. . . but, as my grams used to say, just cause you threw some chicken and veggies in a pot doesn't mean you made a stew. This is just missing all the. . . flavoring.
And where Superman is concerned, there are three specific flavorings that the movies need: fun, joy, and hope. The three go wonderfully together, and this movie needed all of them.
Perhaps I should explain. First off--Fun. Superman Returns should have been an action epic of the highest regard. It should have been an Indiana Jones style, rollicking adventure. It was, to put it mildly, not. Dull, is one of the first words that springs to mind, although tepid, banal, and torpor are all on the vocab list for this one (ok, admittedly the airplane sequence was exciting--but five cool minutes of a near-three-hour running time does not a good action movie make).
Joy. It seems that Mr. Singer, Mr. Dougherty, and Mr. Harris (the director and writers of this atrocity) spent many a deep, dark hours dwelling on the emotional psyche of Superman and his alter ego, Clark Kent, and came up with what could have been an intriguing character study of Hawkman. (That joke might actually be funny to three people in the world. . . sorry). The problem here is that, while Kal-El may very well be a deeply affected and righteously interested individual, he is not well depicted as an egotistically cynical, imminently morose, psychotic stalker of a fellow. Seriously, any human being caught spying on a girl he likes and her friggin' family outside of her house and without prior knowledge and consent from her? Hello children, it's judgement time. Are we supposed to suspend all rules of acceptable, genial conduct because he has a big red cape?
And hope. Ok, maybe I jumped the gun on this one. This film did actually leave me with one small glimmer of hope--that one day, Superman might actually return. Because it really hasn't happened yet.
Two more things, specifically character notes:
1) Lex Luthor is supposed to be a brilliant tactician and, to be a worthy foil for Superman, should be the pinnacle of human ability in brains if not brawn--so why did Kevin Spacey (and Gene Hackman before him) insist on acting like witless asses? And, for that matter, why do the writers of Superman movies seem to insist on surrounding "the most brilliant criminal mind on Earth" with re-res?
2) Jimmy Olsen is Superman's best friend. Not a schmuck with nothing better to do than shadow Clark Kent. Shouldn't he be somewhat cool, so as that people may conceive of why the most powerful man on Earth would spend time with him at all?
I love Superman.
I love Superman.
You see, I have to keep repeating such a mantra, because it is really hard to remember when I am sitting through this movie.
But then I remember the truth: this isn't actually Superman. It can't be. This is, at best, a bad practical joke played by restless toymakers or, at worst, an outright lie. It can't actually be Superman; you see, it's missing the key ingredients.
Oh, the principle characters are there-- Superman/Clark, Lois, Perry, Jimmy, Lex, Ma Kent. He's wearing the blue suit, and he's got that bitchin' S-shield on the front of it (albeit a much smaller one than the real Supes would be wearing. He's flying around and shooting heat out of his eyes and lifting really heavy objects, like Kryptonite islands.
It even has some of the trimmings. The theme song is intact, and really, it was the best part of the film (I love that song--it is my favorite late-night-drive-with-the-windows-down music), The Daily Planet is there, and even the old Kent farm. . . but, as my grams used to say, just cause you threw some chicken and veggies in a pot doesn't mean you made a stew. This is just missing all the. . . flavoring.
And where Superman is concerned, there are three specific flavorings that the movies need: fun, joy, and hope. The three go wonderfully together, and this movie needed all of them.
Perhaps I should explain. First off--Fun. Superman Returns should have been an action epic of the highest regard. It should have been an Indiana Jones style, rollicking adventure. It was, to put it mildly, not. Dull, is one of the first words that springs to mind, although tepid, banal, and torpor are all on the vocab list for this one (ok, admittedly the airplane sequence was exciting--but five cool minutes of a near-three-hour running time does not a good action movie make).
Joy. It seems that Mr. Singer, Mr. Dougherty, and Mr. Harris (the director and writers of this atrocity) spent many a deep, dark hours dwelling on the emotional psyche of Superman and his alter ego, Clark Kent, and came up with what could have been an intriguing character study of Hawkman. (That joke might actually be funny to three people in the world. . . sorry). The problem here is that, while Kal-El may very well be a deeply affected and righteously interested individual, he is not well depicted as an egotistically cynical, imminently morose, psychotic stalker of a fellow. Seriously, any human being caught spying on a girl he likes and her friggin' family outside of her house and without prior knowledge and consent from her? Hello children, it's judgement time. Are we supposed to suspend all rules of acceptable, genial conduct because he has a big red cape?
And hope. Ok, maybe I jumped the gun on this one. This film did actually leave me with one small glimmer of hope--that one day, Superman might actually return. Because it really hasn't happened yet.
Two more things, specifically character notes:
1) Lex Luthor is supposed to be a brilliant tactician and, to be a worthy foil for Superman, should be the pinnacle of human ability in brains if not brawn--so why did Kevin Spacey (and Gene Hackman before him) insist on acting like witless asses? And, for that matter, why do the writers of Superman movies seem to insist on surrounding "the most brilliant criminal mind on Earth" with re-res?
2) Jimmy Olsen is Superman's best friend. Not a schmuck with nothing better to do than shadow Clark Kent. Shouldn't he be somewhat cool, so as that people may conceive of why the most powerful man on Earth would spend time with him at all?
