What can really be said about the character of Superman that hasn’t been said before? Lakshmi and I found out over the weekend at Superman Returns and were, unfortunately, disappointed- really disappointed. The pop character has undergone so many transformations in the comic that it feels impossible to track the number of origin variations and pseudo powers (Super-Knitting, anyone?), but the one core concept of Superman that has always made the character endearing has been his unshakeable, and sometimes hokey, goodness.
It’s difficult to watch this new popcorn flick without comparing it to the original Christopher Reeve film, especially given the emphasis of the ads on the music and the retro-Metropolis look. Bryan Singer claims that this movie is a tribute to the original Donner film as much as it is a tribute to the one superhero character that inspired him to do the X-Men movies. Unfortunately, Singer does very little justice to the original film and classic comic images but for superficial musical cues, revisited dialogue, and iconic images (the original Action Comics cover is reproduced). The excited heart flutter I felt during the opening credits, such a faithful and upgraded tribute to the first film, waned quickly during the first hour. I sadly realized that, as much as I wanted to be inspired or thrilled in the same degree as I was by Reeve’s charm and subtle mastery of the character, Routh’s Superman effused an annoying whininess and an even more wearying angst.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Singer’s movies as much as the next guy- his X-Men films were so well attuned to the feel of the original comics to be near perfect adaptations; however, the troubled, outcast characters of the X-Men are remolded and hammered into Superman Returns in an uncomfortable manner. The highly touted “love story” is the same Wolverine/Cyclops/Jean Grey hackneyed trash (with Cyclops’ James Marsden in the role, it’s even more retch-worthy). Even worse, the love triangle awakens those fabled, uncharacteristic superpowers of golden age comics, but instead of “Super Basket Weaving” we get “Super Stalker Vision” and “Super Self Pity Expressions” for our price of admission. Even worse is the “Super Continuity Errors” that plague the film if it is indeed supposed to be a loose sequel to the second Reeve film.
All this is petty, though, compared to what I felt was the worst betrayal of the character- the Superman of our culture iconic perception has been reduced from the ultimate pinnacle of truth and justice to a mopey jackass. Sure, he’ll sacrifice his own life to save people if he has to, but dammit it seems like he’d rather be vacationing with some whores. Essentially, I want my Superman to be the guardian of some greater moral truth that we strive to live up too- that is what makes him heroic, his unwavering goodness, no matter how hokey it seems. Even though he has a soft spot for Lois; even though he’s the last of his species; even though he can toss mountains around; even though he has to be a nerdy doofus in his alternate identity, Superman is still infallibly honorable and self-sacrificing. I know that there was a slip in this at the end of the Donner film, but it is the one moment in that movie where he did something for himself and by that point we forgive him. Our new Superman acts like an unhappy teenager from the beginning. Most of the time I wanted to slap him and say, “Act like a man, yah big pansy!” All these moments cumulate into a final half hour that was so execrable I felt like laughing at every faux emotional moment.
All that being said, if the movie was cut of all the wretchedly joyless material, the action montages were nearly worth paying to see again- the first such moment was so Superman, that it fooled me into loving the movie… but just for a while before Routh went back to “Super Feel Sorry For Me” facial expressions. Damn you, Bryan Singer for dumping your pop psychology drivel into an otherwise guaranteed popcorn flick winner.