Apr
17
Happy 70th Birthday, Superman!
Filed Under Comics
For a guy who’s a year younger than John McCain, Superman looks pretty good for his age. 2008 marks his 70th anniversary, and although DC Comics seems to have completely forgotten about it — too busy retconning the universe with one “Crisis” crossover after another, methinks — I’d still like to reflect on the character who shaped much of my childhood.
I was technically in utero when my mother took me to see “Superman: The Movie,” but I imagine the experience was transformative nonetheless. Some of my earliest memories see me in a bathtowel safteypinned around my neck, tear-assing around the house as though I could fly. The films got heavy rotation on cable, and I knew each of them beat-for-beat — from Superman reversing time (an ability he’s since shelved apparently) in the first flick to the freaky, silver-eyed android chick at the end of movie three.
I didn’t get into the comics until I was 13, mere months before DC Comics decided to do him in. I rode out the wildly inconsistent “Funeral for a Friend” and “Reign of Superman,” not to mention the mulleted Man of Steel that came after; the ’90s were pure hell for Kal-El in retrospect. I’ve since peeled back my comics fandom significantly, but I still pick up Grant Morrison’s hit-or-miss “All Star Superman,” whenever Frank Quitely finishes his art chores on it, that is.
That the character has endured these past seven decades is a testament to his near invulnerability. Countless creators — in print, TV and film — have either not understood what makes Superman great (Jon Peters is as good an example as any) or been too gutless to do anything new or interesting with him (Bryan Singer comes to mind). Perhaps the two Superman film productions — the aborted one in the late-’90s and the tepid “Superman Returns” that actually went before cameras in ‘06 — are the most [in]famous approaches to the character in recent history. And since I grew up on the films rather than the comics, they’re what I feel more like lamenting. To me, Superman is a movie star who’s also a comic book character.
Much has been written about the implosion of “Superman Lives,” Tim Burton’s film that never quite came about. It was scripted — at one point — by Kevin Smith, who may have liked the character but absolutely didn’t know how to write him. And Nicolas Cage was to star. Producer and former hairdresser Jon Peters oversaw the various and almost universally insipid permutations of the script. Smith has done the college circuit relating stories of Peters’ bizarre demands for the film, like the inclusion of a gay robot and a giant spider. But Hollywood being what it is, I’m almost surprised that the film didn’t get made. Most comic book movies are an overwhelming amount of bad ideas in three dimensions. A small, sinister part of me wanted to see just how “out there” this new take on Superman would ultimately be.
Tim Burton’s Superman movie didn’t happen. Neither did Brett Ratner’s, nor McG’s. Then something strange happened. Bryan Singer split from the “X-Men” franchise and attached himself to the next Superman film. He even hired a Superman, Brandon Routh. What’s more, he started committing things to film. It almost seemed unreal, like peace in the Middle East. Were we finally going to get a new Superman film after all, one directed by the guy who took the X-Men out of their lamented yellow spandex and put them on a 40-foot screen?
I attended the midnight showing of “Superman Returns” at the Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood. I stood in the longest line I’d ever been in at that particular movie house, but was still able to secure a reasonable seat in the auditorium. This was the first Superman film I’d seen in a theater in nearly 20 years, the previous one being the liberal nuclear disarmament wet dream, “Superman IV: The Quest for Peace.” Never has more wasted potential been captured on film than the fourth Superman movie, though Singer’s “Superman Returns” tries to best it.
Hobbled by Richard Donner’s 30-year-old original vision for the film franchise, Singer doesn’t find his own voice in “Superman Returns.” He aped John Williams’ score, directed Routh to lamely impersonate Christopher Reeve and even folded confusing and conflicting plot threads from the first two Superman films into the storyline. Fans hadn’t waited two decades for a tepid, quasi-sequel to Donner’s film. At least Tim Burton had promised to bring something new to the character — even if it would’ve been ruinous. Audiences’ general disapproval of Singer’s film was reflected in its middling box office; it was outgrossed that summer by the third and outstandingly worst film in the X-Men franchise.
Two years later, a follow-up film — “The Man of Steel” — is currently in limbo. Singer’s current project, “Valkerie,” is playing musical chairs with release dates, a sure sign of post-production troubles. But maybe it’s for the best that there won’t be a Super-sequel. Maybe the best give Superman can be given for his 70th is a much-deserved farewell from comics, from film. Let the man retire already.
-Brad Lohan
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One Response to “Happy 70th Birthday, Superman!”
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I was on Yahoo and found your blog. Read a few of your other posts. Good work. I am looking forward to reading more from you in the future.
Tom Stanley