Yesterday was hot here in LA, as all our recent yesterdays have been. (An elderly man I know, a native of the city, told me that he couldn’t recall Los Angeles ever being so hot before). My apartment isn’t air-conditioned, so I decided to go to the movies. Not only would this buy me a few hours of artificially cooled bliss, but I would also allow me to beat the holiday weekend crowds – and at bargain matinee prices no less.
So I walked down to The Grove and saw Superman Returns. And, somewhat to my surprise, I liked it. Here, in no particular order, are some of the reasons why:
- Low expectations. One should never underestimate the impact of one’s own pre-conceptions. I had heard such mixed things about the film (and from people whose judgment I trust) that I was braced for disappointment. But of course low expectations tend to inoculate one against such disappointment. So this is a round about way of saying that you should take my praise of the film with a grain of salt. I may go back next week, with my expectations now sky high, and marvel that I could have been so easily entertained.
- That John Williams score. My taste may be simplistic, but that pounding Superman theme is surely one of his most thrilling. For my money it’s better than Star Wars and much better than Harry Potter, which is growing on me, but not in a good way. (More in a “well, it’s not going any where so I might as well learn to like it” kind of way. It just seems so self-consciously “magical, boys and girls” and just a tad fey. It lacks any really grand or stirring theme – nothing I’d want to be listening to as I marched into battle against evil). But I digress.
- The flying sequences. Yee-haw!! OK, I freely admit it – I have a thing for flying. When I was a kid I yearned to fly more than I yearned for anything else, even more than I yearned for adulthood. (A friend of mine recently told me that he asks every woman he dates what superpower she would choose to have if she could only choose one. I told him I would choose flight, and he proceeded to tell me at great length why that was a foolish choice. If I remember correctly, it had to do with the purposelessness of the power. He pointed out that I could do far more good for my fellow human beings with invisibility or invincible strength. I pointed out that I did not care. I gained fresh insight into why this friend and I had never dated). But I digress. These flying sequences are simply magnificent, not least in their variety. Some are fast and drop-the-bottom-out-of-your-stomach thrilling. Others are slow and beautiful. Some put you in the driver’s seat, as it were. Others position you as a spectator, watching Superman glide soundlessly through a distant mist. All of them are cause for joy.
- Brandon Routh. I had my doubts. His face (seen on the covers of countless magazines) didn’t do it for me: too bland and pretty. But he’s grown on me too (and in a much better way than the Harry Potter score), imbuing his character with quirky intelligence, good humor, and a certain amount of personal insecurity (touching in a superhero). By the end I found his face less handsome and much more attractive.
- Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. Not much more to say. His sidekicks were mostly interchangeable ciphers, but Parker Posey as Kitty gave a performance that was (perhaps strangely) much more believable and grounded in reality than I usually think hers are.
- The Art Direction. The way it feels period without actually being so.
- The “retro” credits. Love it. Took me back to a summer long, long ago in a town far, far away.
Other stuff: I know that some folks have their knickers in a twist over the line “truth, justice, all that stuff.” Now ordinarily I can bunch my panties with the best of them, but I just can’t get too worked up about this one. For one thing, in context, “truth, justice, and the American way” would have been much funnier. Whatever the screenwriters’ motives, I think they missed out on a good laugh. Also, I am told by some who know that “the American way” is actually a later interpolation, that Superman, in his purest incarnation, actually stood for “Truth and Justice.” In any case, I have only a limited amount of worry available and I’m not going to spend any of it on this.
Also, some have complained about Lois’s – ahem – living arrangements. I think this one would bug me more if I had kids of a certain age, kids to whom I’d rather not explain the whole “extended engagement with child” thing not to mention the “who’s the father” thing. But what I find interesting (and what I’m surprised more conservatives haven’t noticed) is that the whole iffy set-up is really a compliment (albeit a backhanded one) to the sanctity of marriage. I mean, it’s not supposed to matter, right? Marriage is just a piece of paper, words mumbled over you by a judge/priest, isn’t it? Marriage, long-term committed relationship – what’s the difference? But there is a difference and everyone knows it. The writers know it and the audience knows it. If Lois had actually married Richard, there would have been no hope for Superman, short of death (and who wants to hope for that nice Richard to die?). For all our vaunted sophistication/degeneracy (take your pick) we still know that it would be unthinkable for any true hero to break up a marriage. As unthinkable as it would be for any true heroine to walk out on a husband. Though our own behavior may have evolved over the past few decades, our myths are still back at the Casablanca airport watching Shane ride off into the night. Curious, no?
