How to turn a pussy into a Superman

Every time I walk out of a Superman movie I’m struck by the same question: Why is Superman such a pussy? Brimmed with super-powers every child covets, walking out of a Superman movie should be a matter of dodging dropped jaws.

I’m aware more jaws were dropped in the days of Christopher Reeve, but over time modern storytellers failed to make this caped crusader Super.

Super-Pussy

Take the most recent Superman flick, Bryan Singer’s Superman Returns. The titular character navigates a plane disintegrating in mid-air to prevent it from crashing into a packed baseball stadium. The scene itself is a visual spectacle and one of the rare occasions where the audience feels Superman’s alien powers will fail him. In fact, even though it is half way through, it is the film’s climactic scene.

Unfortunately this badass display of heroics is undermined by Superman’s Ned Flanders bravado as the first thing he says after the feat is:

Is everybody alright? I hope this doesn’t turn you off flying. Statistically speaking, it’s still the safest way to travel.

Really? Do you work for the RTA (DMV) or something? Was that paid advertising? I’d rather he say nothing at all and fly away. The sound of thunderous applause falling deaf on his superhuman ears as seeing his one love—the one person who knows Superman isn’t always Super—shakes him.

Singer’s Superman, with his friend-zone persona, is castrated. Why would any girl want to throw down a Ken Doll? And as for little kids, they’re more likely to don the Dark Knight’s cape than red undies. I for one certainly do.

The Crux

Most superheroes are emotionally crippled from a childhood trauma. Batman, Robin and Spiderman’s parents are dead, while the Hulk and Wolverine killed theirs. When you really sit down and think about it, Superheroes aren’t mentally sound but we love them nonetheless because unlike us, they don’t succumb to injustice. Their masked faces could be anyone—even you—and when they stand up for the little guy a piece of the audience does too.

Most people don’t know what Superman’s trauma is because his backstory is often malnourished. Superman’s mother and father didn’t just die: his entire planet did. Moments before Krypton was destroyed, his father, Jor El, placed him in a space craft and punched in the coordinates for Earth. He is the last of his kind.

We might revel in the CGI effects afforded by his superpowers, but for Superman, they’re a reminder of his solidarity. No human could relate to his desolation, especially when he’s all dandy. A helpless Superman, one who can’t change something in spite of his laser powers, is one the audience could relate to.

Don’t misconstrue my plea to humanise Superman. I want him to bleed for some of the film, even most of it. Then I’d like him to overcome it in all his glory.

A healthy dose of Venom

A part of Superman should resent humanity because they take companionship for granted. Couples fight, thieves plunder, murderers slaughter and villains, well villains usher in the apocalypse.

Who does he have? No one.

But I bet if he had another kryptonian companion, he’d take them out for ice cream, check out Disneyland and watch Breaking Bad with them.

“That Walter White!” he’d say with his cheesy grin, perplexed by conundrum of a good guy breaking bad for all the right reasons.

Is it you, God?

In the presence of these parasites and armed with his inimitable skillset, the next dilemma confronting Superman is: Who am I to play God? Superman might have God’s muscle, but it’s his lack of philosophical enlightenment that makes his character so darn juicy.

Every time Superman intervenes, he decides who lives and who dies. Consider what would happen if people died because Superman intervened with someone’s natural death.

Picture this: Some guy is walking in the rain when a clap of thunder strikes a tree. The tree falls and crushes him in what God has decided is his natural end.

Hollywood’s Superman would have him intervene and save him, as his cape parts the heavens and bathes Metropolis in sunlight. But what if this guy Superman saves walks off and pops two bullets into a six year old?

The power to spare a life is inevitably bogged down by philosophical and religious complexity, which would make for grand subtext in a Superman movie.

I’d also like to see a Superman torn by his inability to save someone, when all his speed and ice-cold breath isn’t enough.

After all, “a hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” At least that's Christopher Reeves view.

Anchor

So far I have painted Superman to be tormented, discontent and alone. Considering his world destroyed itself, why should he stop humans from doing the same?

Lois Lane, that’s why.

Lois has always been painted as a go-getter journalist with an agenda to find the truth. There’s been an aeon of tension between the two characters who, like Romeo and Juliet, are borne from different worlds. But this Pulitzer Prize winner lacks heroism because she seldom has something to overcome. 

Lois is heroic in overcoming adversity

What if she wasn’t? What if Lois represented all the good let down by an unjust world? If she was a single struggling parent, formerly abused, trying to do right by her child. What if she was the reason why Superman chooses to stand up for the little people, not because he’s in love with her, but because he’s inspired by her inability to give up? Because she is balance, honest and righteous.

Sure, he can kiss her in the sequel.

PMS

Superman’s powers should be linked to his emotional state. 

It’s hard not being angry sometimes. Imagine how much harder it would be when an otherwise ordinary tiff could see a car ripped clean in half? Like the high from heroin, that kind of strength is addictive. In Star Wars it’s The Dark Side and in Spiderman it’s Venom.

On the other end of the spectrum, a Superman riddled with self-doubt should have stunted powers. An impotent Superman would have to tend to his inner conflict before his virility returns.

The Punch Line

A real problem with Superman is his sedated slew of foes, in particularly Lex Luther. Luther comes off as a businessman. His tiff with Superman boils down to a battle of economics; dry the bloke’s resources and call it a day.

There is no greater villain than the Joker. (Okay, a few sit alongside him on the mantle but he’s definitely a distinguished member of the I want to destroy wherever alumni).

Now Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight coerced the hairs on the back of my neck to stand stiff. His nervous energy could barely be tamed, so much so that the audience didn’t even know what octave his voice was going to hit. His knife-yielding hand jerked uncontrollably and he licked his lips like a dog readying for the maul.

The Joker was unpredictable. The Joker was chaos. The Joker was fearsome.

Unfortunately for Superman, his nemesis is just as dull as he is. An average Joe doesn’t instil fear and there’s certainly no triumph in taking him down.

Redemption

Due in a couple of months is the latest iteration of Superman. Following in the example set by Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, it’s simply titled Man Of Steel. Nolan is the executive producer and the extraordinary Zack Snyder, of Watchman and 300 acclaim, will be directing. Our knight in blue spandex is Henry Cavill (Immortals, The Count of Monte Cristo) and for the first time in years, I dare say on the basis of the trailer that I want to don blinding red underwear.

By Tony Ibrahim

Like Farewell Blank Page on Facebook here