Man of Steel

I spent Sunday in New York City.  Although my pretext for visiting the city was to buy clothes, I mostly just wanted an excuse to see Maria, one of my friends from High School whom I haven't seen in over four years.  Among other things we did together, Maria and I both took Mr. Anderson's AP English-Lang class as seniors, reading, among other amazing books, George Orwell's Collection of Essays, still one of the most influential books in my own life.  It was nice to again be around someone who had the Ithaca upbringing that I did, who had the same friends in high school that I did, and who didn't necessarily know all of my college friends.

Maria and I went to see "Man of Steel," out for less than a week (note: spoiler alert).  I was rather disappointed, to be honest.  The film lasts a powerful 148 minutes long, alternating between heart-pounding action and dull scenes that I probably won't remember a few weeks from now.  My main criticism of the film is that it lacks a beginning, a middle, and an end.  Call me an old Aristotelian, but the pacing of the entire story was completely unbalanced -- the beginning lasted far too long, the middle dragged on disproportionately, and it was impossible to distinguish the climax from any other part of the film.  There was no denouement to speak of, and there were no really memorable lines.  The fight scenes that played out in Smallville and Metropolis mostly made me think about how sharp broken glass is, and how much it hurts to trip and slide across asphalt.  Some of the film's premises seemed completely unbelievable.  I'll believe in alien civilizations, but there's no explanation for how the Kryptonites are capable of communicating with humans.  Likewise, in the ordered society described, in which every member fulfills a specific role, how is it possible that the world's greatest scientist is also its best warrior?  In the first scene minutes of the film, Jor-El makes it quite clear that he is stronger than Zod's small squadron, singlehandedly defeating them all, despite the fact that he is unarmed and surrounded as the fight begins.  If he's such an amazing scientist, how does he have the time to practice for this kind of combat?  And what kind of scientist is he, anyway?  Science-fiction films seem to consistently forget that science is a method in which individuals have different fields of expertise: by "top scientist," the script-writer meant "most brilliant computer-programmer."  As the son of a scientist, I take the distinction between science and engineering seriously.  In a similar vein, Superman has no combat training and stayed out of fights his entire life: how is it that he defeats Zod at the end, despite having no weapons?  Why is the Kryponian military, in other words, consistently unable to defeat unarmed Kryptonian civilians? 

Speaking of Mr. Anderson, though, this film, the previews that preceded it, and the last movie I saw in theaters ("Star Trek: Into Darkness") have had me asking the questions that my friend George Orwell taught me to ask about popular media, in such essays as "Boys' Weeklies" and "Raffles and Miss Blandish."  As Orwell points out, there is a great deal of sociological information hidden right beneath the surface (and sometimes not hidden at all) of films, regarding the values of their filmmakers, as well as the values of the societies that consume them.  As I always do, I found myself asking questions like:

 
- Are heroes necessarily stronger than villains?  Are heroes necessarily underdogs?  Are they conquering in spite of the odds, or are they victorious because of their strength?
This was always a serious concern of Orwell's, addressed directly in the case of British novels in "Raffles and Miss Blandish."  As he states, "Until recently the characteristic adventure stories of the English-speaking peoples have been stories in which the hero fights against odds. This is true all the way from Robin Hood to Pop-eye the Sailor. Perhaps the basic myth of the Western world is Jack the Giant-killer, but to be brought up to date this should be renamed Jack the Dwarf-killer, and there already exists a considerable literature which teaches, either overtly or implicitly, that one should side with the big man against the little man." There's a real mix among current movies in this regard.  The Pixar movies have been excellent at providing unlikely heroes who persevere against the odds.  Just think about it: "Ratatouille" stars a garbage boy and a rat; "Up" stars a grumpy old man and a chubby boyscout; "Wall-E" is about a robot whose job is to push garbage.  On the other hand, one of the main thoughts repeating again and again when I watched "Avengers" last year was: the heroes are all superheroes, and are far stronger than the villains.  Yes, there are more villains than there are heroes, especially at the end, but does The Hulk really ever meet any enemy that's stronger than he is?  Thor is much stronger than Loki -- the latter succeeds because of his trickery, a trait much more befitting an unlikely hero than a principal antagonist.  Even characters like Black Widow, technically lacking superpowers, are nevertheless superhuman in the feats that they accomplish.  Likewise, one telling change between The Hobbit and the recent film adaptation of the first part was what became a fight scene between the Dwarves and the Trolls (Bert, Tom, and William).  The Dwarves don't even carry weapons at the beginning of their journey in the book, yet in the movie, they are seen as highly capable fighters, far better than the Trolls. Why do they lose the fight in the movie?  Because of the weakest link of their party, Bilbo, who is not strong enough to defend himself.  Although Bilbo partially redeems himself by stalling the Trolls until Gandalf can arrive to save the day, his physical weakness is still the cause of the group's problems.  This is not the case in Tolkein's work, in which the Dwarves are ambushed in pairs by the Trolls; Thorin alone puts up a struggle of any kind.  In the movie, however, if Bilbo were not present, or were physically stronger, the Dwarves would not have been in such serious danger, and probably would have killed the Trolls without Gandalf's help.
- Do the strong need to respect the rights of the weak?
 To take a look at another recent superhero movie, "Avengers" -- no.  They don't.  In "Man of Steel," a Superman makes explicit in the last ten minutes that he does what he does because of his patriotism.  In other words, if he chose to become a supervillain, he could probably terrorize the entire world, as simple as that.  There is no sense that he needs Earth as much as Earth needs him, because he is strong, and strength answers to nobody in this universe.  Jor-El preserves over Zod and his followers in the opening scene because of his martial ability, doesn't he?
- Does violence solve problems?  Is it seen as having any consequences?
Violence solves characters' problems in all of these films, plain and simple.  They wouldn't be blockbusters if they lacked action, I know, but "Man of Steel" is nothing but a B-grade slugfest by the end.  You can have a perfectly exciting movie that lacks this kind of violence.  Just take a look at, for instance, "Spirited Away," which though full of action and danger, lacks anything that could be qualified as a fight scene.  "Man of Steel," by contrast, is full of gratuitous violence.  Did Superman ever stop to see if there were any people in the buildings that he demolishes when tackling the other Kryptonites?  What about all of those exploding gas stations -- are we really supposed to believe that Superman only ever took a single life in the course of this film?  At the end of the day, the villains are so wicked, and the difference between good and evil so clear-cut, that, yes, violence is the only answer to the world's problems.
- What is considered to be "justice?"  What kind of punishment, if any, do villains receive, who dispenses it, and how?
I will say that "Star Trek: Into Darkness" scores very well in this category, constantly forcing the characters and audience to confront the moral and ethical issues associated with Khan and the Star Fleet high command.  Who has a right to punish whom is one of the movie's main themes, in fact.  Villains act lawfully (such as when the Klingons attack Kirk, Spock, and Uhura, who have illegally descended onto Chronos), and heroes act unlawfully (such as when Kirk repeatedly punches Khan). 
- When the villains are defeated, is that considered the conclusion to society's problems?  Or is building what has been destroyed depicted as harder than overthrowing evil?
"Man of Steel" has one of the simplest divides between good and evil.  It is good's responsibility to destroy evil, when evil threatens.  Superman generally doesn't care about destroying things, although he does make a singular effort to catch a falling pilot who has just tried to shoot him, and to save the family in the train station at the end.  At the end, Metropolis miraculously returns to normal.  There is no lingering on the rubble as there was in "Dark Knight."  When the Bad Guys are defeated, what more is there to worry about?  According to "Man of Steel," nothing.
- What social classes are represented among the characters?  Which are depicted as heroic, and which as villainous?  How do members of different classes interact?Looking at the previews leading up to "Man of Steel," class-consciousness is not taboo in the U.S., at least so long as it's at least partially concealed as science fiction.  Both the Hunger Games books and movies are noticeable for addressing the issue; likewise, the upcoming "Elysium" has a similar bent, although I only saw a short preview.  The Kents' rural roots in "Man of Steel" are emphasized, but there really isn't much in the way of social commentary.  By way of previews, it' interesting to see that there is a sequel being made to "300," that seems to focus on the Battle of Salamis.  Athens was a democracy at the time of the Persian wars, and it fought its wars democratically, on land and sea alike.  The invention hoplite formation in ancient Greek warfare is one of historians' favorite examples of factors contributing to the rise of democracy in the Hellenic world.  A less well-known story, that I recommend looking up in Barry Strauss's Battle of Salamis, is how trireme warfare depended upon the common men laboring over the oars; they, not the archers and marines above decks, were the real heroes of the story.  I have no idea of how the Battle of Salamis will play off in this "300" sequel (they seem to have included the devious Queen Artemisia), but I saw examples of Greek warriors running around as individuals to attack Persians, a clear violation of historical fact in order to please audiences.  This is the reality of warfare in the Illiad, in which aristocrats battled aristocrats one-on-one as champions, sometimes quite literally in duels, and in which fighters were professional soldiers.  By the Greco-Persian Wars, which probably took place more than 700 years after the sacking of Troy, Greek soldiers' lives depended upon their ability to maintain a solid shield wall -- which meant no breaking rank to play the hero.  For the benefit of both sides, virtually all land battles among Greeks were fought on level ground, to mutual consent.  Herodotus speaks with wonder of Athenian soldiers who broke every convention by running into battle.  The point is, if the preview is accurate, the "300" sequel violates historical fact in order to depict the reality of ancient warfare as less democratic than it really was.
- How are police officers depicted?  Are they seen as stoic heroes, goofy blue-collar members of their neighborhood communities, or menacing antagonists?
This is one of my favorite questions.  Think about the policemen in, say, "Be Kind, Rewind."  Compare them to policemen in the Sherlock Holmes stories (or in Poe's Dupin stories), to the policemen at the end of "Avengers," to the policemen in a typical Hitchcock film ("Dial M for Murder" or "The Thirty-Nine Steps"), and to Vimes, Colon, Carrot, Nobby, and the rest of the Night Watch in the Discworld series.  What differences, despite the fact that these are all more or less sympathetic depictions!  None of these organizations are naturally threatening; Orwell wrote, in 1944, that "It is implied throughout No Orchids that being a criminal is only reprehensible in the sense that it does not pay. Being a policeman pays better, but there is no moral difference, since the police use essentially criminal methods. In a book like He Won't Need It Now the distinction between crime and crime-prevention practically disappears."  For whatever reasons, human police officers are treated quite sympathetically.
- How is the government depicted?  What sorts of characters represent the government?  Is this film patriotic or subversive?
Yes, "Man of Steel" is patriotic, and not the least bit subversive.
- Does race play any kind of role in power hierarchies?
 Even though I brought this question up, I'm rather afraid to touch it.
- If there are criminals in this film, how are they treated?  What are the racial demographics of criminals?  Are criminals victims of society, or is society victim to their malevolence?
I think that the most interesting depiction of convicts I have seen in a recent film was the scene of the prison ship in "Dark Knight."  The film depicts the convicts as more upright and humane than either their guards or the other Gotham residents.  The scene is entirely believable.  The United States has the second-highest incarceration rate in the world, and has a very strong history of seeing prison occupants as, at best, sinners in need of reformation, and, at worst, as biologically-determine criminals undeserving of ever being released.  I'm still amazed that nobody talks about this scene, and that it didn't have as much of an impact on others, as sociologically telling, as it did on me.

- What roles do women play as members of a team?  Are women's bodies on display any more or less on display than men's?  Are there any moments at which two women speak to each other dialogue beyond the scope of the men they are both interested in?
Yikes, this is another difficult one.  Lois Lane pulls weight, but less than the other heroes, and Ma Kent's sole job is to offer moral support.  Yes, there's a very frightening femme fatale, but the existence of a single powerful female character -- especially a villain -- does not make the superhero trade an equal-opportunity industry.  Superhero saves Lois far more than Lois saves Superman; the only real role that she serves in the finale is to transmit a message from Jor-El to Superman; i.e., she is a messenger between the two male characters who are actually capable of solving the world's problems. Warriors and scientists alike are men in this film; this is not unusual.  The only female Avenger is also the weakest (albeit the only one who isn't dysfunctional), and The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, books and movies alike, are stories by men and about men.  Most of the Enterprise's officers are men, aren't they?  This is somewhat inevitable: looking at the credits for scriptwriting and directing, I can't help but notice a preponderance of male names.  Unsurprisingly, men are better at writing lines for male characters than they are at writing lines for female characters.  I know for a fact that if I ever try to write fiction, of any sort, I will need to consult one or more female friends when trying to write female-female dialogue.  Women, have you ever considered that men have no idea what you talk about when you are alone with other women?  However, I think it's worth mentioning that, for all of the male-dominated great films out there, animated films produced by Hayao Miyazaki's Studio Ghibli are about as gender-equal as you can find.

I'll let you think more about these questions, and perhaps you'll think about them the next time you visit the movie theater (or maybe not).  In the meantime, the critics of Rotten Tomatoes seem to have agreed with me on many of my opinions of "Man of Steel."  Here are a few of the most insightful comments: "The chief problem here is one of rhythm and balance in the storytelling and directing. The movie swings between destructive overstatement and flat-footed homilies." "Man of Steel's violence doesn't escalate; it simply, tediously, iterates. We keep waiting to thrill, to exult, to cheer our hero on. When the lights come up, we're still waiting." "The original superhero is given the sense of spectacle he deserves - but this is a cold, emotionless film that never makes us care for Superman the way he's supposed to care about us." "Man of Steel marks an unexpectedly dour revisionist retelling of the Superman myth, a 2 1/2-hour epic laden with emotionally misconnecting characters prone to uttering speeches in lieu of actual conversations." "The movie can't decide if it wants to be a particularly thoughtful brand of superhero saga or a deafeningly generic summer action movie. So it ends up being both, to the detriment of it and us."

After reading these reviews, I felt somewhat vindicated.  Also, if you do decide to go ahead and see the film, bring your own earplugs.  There is a painfully loud burst of light and sound every time a Kryptonian firearm goes off -- which is quite often.

Oh, also, despite the incredibly high number of conspicuous product placements in this film, one brand name printed on a truck appearing in the final fight scene is of particular importance to the DC Universe.  I'm hoping that the mention of this very important corporation is a foreshadowing of the Superman sequel.

OK, this post has taken long enough.  Next post will be more about Drisha, I promise!

~JD