I’d like to start these overwhelmingly positive notes with a negative thought that only cursorily involves Superman Returns. If I read one more “There’s no more originality in Hollywood” ramble by some under-watched film journalist hack, I will make it my life’s work to get that “writer” fired and returned to the Detroit Free Press or some other lame media outlet faster than the proverbial speeding bullet.
There’s nothing original in Hollywood? Everything is either a remake, or a sequel, or an adaptation of something popular?
I have three things to say to you.
- How can you bitch about originality while writing the same lame piece as bunch of other junket whores who know less about film than the guys at the sports desk?
- Yes, and that’s how it’s always been.
- That doesn’t mean it has to be bad.
And finally, bringing us to the subject at hand:
Bryan Singer does everything anyone could have hoped for and more with Superman Returns. He took on the thankless job of making a sequel to a 25-year-old movie sequel, ignored two other sequels, recast a role formerly defined by a man who was later raised to secular sainthood, and, most thankless of all, kept an “uncool” hero uncool. There in square suits is Clark Kent. There in a crystal fortress is Kal-El. There in circus colors is Superman. And, most importantly, there on the screen—least cool of all—is hope.
Few imaginary figures, assuming Jesus was in some way or another real, have had as many theories and readings of their meaning thrown around by so many from every direction as Superman has. Some say he is an obvious symbol of Jewish empowerment. Others say he is the personification of an imperialistic American impulse, Manifest Destiny in a cape and all that. Bill turns it around to say that Clark Kent is Superman’s critique on the whole human race.
While all of these takes on the Last Son of Krypton are intriguing, Bryan Singer pulls an end run on it all and simply gets it right. Sure, he’s standing on the shoulders of giants, but he obviously knows it and is gladly asking us to admire the view with him.
Singer pulls freely from the first two Superman films quite a bit throughout his film, even whole chunks of dialogue, but not without reason. Just as he mines old footage of Brando as the recorded Jor-El, he mines memorable throwaway lines from the original Richard Donner films to reconfigure them into romantic catch phrases. Sure, Singer’s redoing some of these moments because they worked before, but that’s why Superman is doing it too.
Any video and commercial cinematographer with a good agent (read: Ratner) would give Supes the corny hero shot as he reminds the just rescued plane passengers that “statistically speaking of course, it’s still the safest way to travel.” It would be the “Aw shucks” moment that it is in the first Superman film all over again, but look at how Singer cuts it. He has a cutaway to Lois in there. Supes knows he’s saying the same thing he said to Lois after his first rescue of her (Geek Aside: Second, if you count catching the mugger’s bullet) and hopes she will remember the moment too.
Actually, there were more than a few parts of Superman Returns during which I couldn’t help thinking of the old saw about the bar at the top of the Empire State Building:
Two men are drinking in a bar at the top of the Empire State Building.
One turns to the other and says: “You know, last week I discovered that if you jump from the top of this building, by the time you fall to the 10th floor, the winds around the building are so intense that they carry you around the building and back into the window.”
The bartender just shakes his head in disapproval while wiping the bar.
The 2nd man says: “What are you, a nut? There is no way in hell that could happen.”
1st man: “No, it’s true, let me prove it to you.” So he gets up from the bar, jumps over the balcony, and careens toward the street below. When he passes the 10th floor, the high wind whips him around the building and back into the 10th floor window, and he takes the elevator back up to the bar.
The 2nd man tells him: “You know, I saw that with my own eyes, but that must have been a one-time fluke.”
1st man: “No, I’ll prove it again” and again he jumps and hurtles toward the street where the 10th floor wind gently carries him around the building and into the window. Once upstairs, he urges his fellow drinker to try it.
2nd man: “Well what the hell, it works, I’ll try it.” So he jumps over the balcony, plunges downward, passes the 11th, 10th, 9th, 8th floors…and hits the sidewalk with a ’splat.’
Back upstairs, the bartender turns to the other drinker: “You know, Superman, you’re a real asshole when you’re drunk.”
Superman Returns is a story that understands that Superman, regardless of the literal meaning of the phrase, is only human and just as susceptible as anyone to all of the sins of his adopted home, as well as the virtues. He doesn’t have Super Morals, despite what the Batman-lovin’ naysayers would have you believe; he has supra-strong Midwestern American farm boy morals, and they can falter, just like any country mouse when he gets to the big city.
Throughout the film, we see Superman do some super-stalking, Olympic-sized super-torch carrying, and even a smidge of super-homewrecking in spite of himself, and that’s part of why this film works. Superman makes some mistakes. He doesn’t just glide in and save the day; he miscalculates, he readjusts, he acts without thinking, both while rescuing plummeting planes and plummeting relationship odds.
Singer understands, like Donner and John Byrne and so many others before him, that Superman has to be perfect publicly, but Lois is one of the only ones to see him stumble privately. Big Blue can’t save everyone everytime, but if you think he can, you might hold on long enough when chips are so down that all logic would say to give up.
The sinking boat sequence is the perfect example of this. Locked into half of a sinking ship, a man holds his family in either arm, treads water, and bangs on their prison door with all his might. In a world without a Superman, this is a valiant, but hopeless act. In a world with a Superman, you don’t give up for even an instant because he just might be there up in the sky.
That corny Big Blue Boy Scout floats above us not because he’s better than us, but because that’s where we need him: ready to swoop in when our hope and frail earthling bodies come up a little short on results, but we still keep on trying. He’s not perfect, but no one knows that except a select few, because if the citizens of Metropolis knew Superman made a mistake now and again, what hope would they have of getting it right?
On the other hand, we know that Superman is just like us or possibly that we are just like him. Our yellow sun may give him powers far beyond those of mortal men, but he’s not above a little pressure and a broken heart. And still, he never once considers hanging up the tights, no matter what happens to him. So for Superman Returns, I say: Thank you Bryan Singer, and anyone else responsible, for making this pitch perfect Superman movie, from a Supes fan who could give Bibbo Bibbowski a run for his money.