So apparently Superman is woke now?
Let’s put aside for one moment the obvious fallacy in the very use of “woke,” usually by conservative white people, as an insult or critique of any real substance. There are countless words that have been written and spoken by authoritative and informed voices on the history of “wokeness” and its perversion into a tool in the culture wars. But when it starts to seep into pop culture and entertainment, that’s another thing entirely. And could you possibly conjure a more evocative signifier of popular culture than that of Superman?
I am being facetious, but I do think there is something of real substance to be found in this farcical conversation surrounding a fictional comic book character. James Gunn’s Superman also seems to be in conversation, if only passingly, with The Fantastic Four: First Steps, the other major superhero film released in July over the ditch at Marvel. In fact, I think the response to both of these films is symptomatic of something that has been pervasive in superhero films for as long as the Marvel Cinematic Universe firmly placed all of cinema in a post- Iron Man timeline. It is something that I believe audiences have become aware of, if only subconsciously, and are in many cases beginning to grow tired of.
There has always been something about MCU films in particular that has rubbed me the wrong way. For a long time I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, being of an age that I was the target audience when most of these films were released. As far as the individual films go, my mileage varies depending on the degree to which the filmmakers behind each film are allowed to peek through the corporate concrete. But across the board, there is a cynicism and a post-modern detachment that is pervasive. So pervasive, in fact, that it not only has caught on in other strands of superhero films like the DC films, but beyond that into blockbuster filmmaking at large.
It was present in 2008 when Iron Man became perhaps the most notable signpost in cinema this century. But it reached a critical mass in 2016/17. Deadpool. Thor: Ragnarok. Suicide Squad. Captain America: Civil War. Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice. Justice League. And so on. Putting aside any qualitative feelings anybody may have about any of these films individually, they all employ the same storytelling tactic that I believe is almost singlehandedly responsible for driving narrative tastes in audiences this century. It goes something like this: we’re only allowed to indulge in genuine pathos and sincerity if we immediately point out how cringe it is. Put simply, any real emotion must immediately be punctured by a joke, often with a meta edge. Even better if it reminds the audience that they are watching a constructed piece of artifice.
It is into this context that Superman and The Fantastic Four: First Steps enter movie culture. Large swathes of audiences, who have largely been fed a majority diet of superhero films, have come to accept this as par for the course. Like clockwork, cynical quips, jokes and asides accompany and rot away at the emotional heart of cinema. And that is not to say that neither Superman or Fantastic Four are funny. What it is to say is that the jokes and comic moments are constructed as complimentary to the film, not at its own expense.
All of this really is to say that both Superman and Fantastic Four do something that has been in decline for a long time – they are unashamedly and earnestly carrying an emotional heart and a message without ever skewering itself. If 2017’s Logan bucked the trend at the time by achieving this, then in the wake of Thunderbolts* earlier this year it is my hope that we are now seeing a swing back towards this new sincerity.
Superman firmly places its lens on the idea of Clark Kent (played by David Corenswet) as an isolated Kryptonian immigrant trying to be decent in a world that seems to have abandoned decency as a virtue. Instead of retreading the story of Clark’s arrival on Earth from Krypton, something we have seen a number of times already on film, Gunn’s narrative drops us in the middle of the action. Metahumans are an established part of this universe, and Superman himself has been active for three years before the film begins. Not only that, but Superman has just suffered his first loss. From there James Gunn takes us through a fairly well-worn narrative path, but imbues it with an urgent cry to look for the common humanity we all share beyond our racial, political and ideological differences.
It’s bold and colourful, revelling in the kind of joyful cinematic excess that Gunn is now known for – a signature action set piece playing with perspective and framed in a long single take, hyperkinetic fight sequences with violence that feels like it actually hurts, and a saturated colour palette like a candy store. But more than anything, it feels honest. Given the American leaders that now dominate public discourse, it is an unexpectedly counter-cultural move to position Superman as an American leader whose power lies in his ability to side with the powerless, the oppressed and the colonised. It doesn’t take somebody with a PHD in global politics to be able to read into the script’s position on the Palestinian genocide, or indeed where it hypothetically sees Superman siding. And crucially, it has the strength of its convictions to make these statements boldly and without puncturing them with jokes at their own expense. It’s an approach to storytelling that has somehow become countercultural and punk in the current landscape.
And take the newest entry into the MCU, The Fantastic Four: First Steps. It’s great fun, if also a victim of the same old storytelling traps these films have to retread to fulfill their contract with the audience. But it’s also a surprisingly conservative story about traditional family values, and a film that communicates these ideas without ever descending into self-parody. It is refreshingly self-contained, not relying on a certain amount of in-universe homework to be coherent. Pedro Pascal, Venessa Kirby, Joseph Quinn and Ebon Moss-Bachrach make up the MCU’s first family – the Fantastic Four, soon to be five, with Pascal and Kirby’s Reed and Sue expecting. While all of the usual trappings are there, including a villain-of-the-week bad guy threatening to destroy the earth in the form of Ralph Inneson’s Galactus, it is coherently of a piece and clear in its intentions – this is a wholesome, family-focussed film that attempts to remind its audience that people are, at their heart, fundamentally decent. Both Superman and Fantastic four end in heartwarming sequences depicting their respective protagonists finding meaning and safety within their families, both biological and found.
It is indicative of the current culture of popular entertainment that large sections of audiences have rejected both Superman and Fantastic Four because of this. Superman seems to address this himself in a tirade directed at Nicholas Holt’s Lex Luthor, during which he identifies his humanity as both he and Luthor’s biggest strength. I applaud both Superman and Fantastic Four, not because they are both perfect films. Like I said, both suffer from the same old narrative and structural potholes that have become a part of this subgenre’s DNA. But I applaud both of them for being boldly and unapologetically earnest in their wholesomeness. The fact that both are going to well and truly make their money back gives me great hope that we will begin to see less and less of the pervasive cynical humour that has kept these sorts of films from breaking out of self-parody.
No doubt you have already seen at least one of these two new films. But if you, like me, have become tired of the endless stream of superhero films that attempt to have their self-aware cake and eat it too, Superman and Fantastic Four are both somewhat of an antidote to this established cynicism. Here’s hoping it can take hold and spread some pathogens of earnestness and sincerity through the superhero genre’s bloodstream.
Jonty Cornford
Images courtesy of DC and Marvel Studios
