Batman v. Superman Latest Trailer Drops


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Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice has been gathering steam and buzz since it was first announced a couple years ago at San Diego Comic-Con. The film is now just a little over 4 months away from release. The fact that we’re even talking about latest trailers and clips about this film was an accomplishment all on its own.

This was a project that had been talked about for so many years, but never got on track. While some DC fans might decry what I’m about to say I do think they should thank the success of the Marvel Studios-produced films for getting this film on the fast track to being made. It made DC and Warner Bros. realize they weren’t the big bully in the blockbuster block anymore and needed something monumental to catch up.

With Man of Steel dividing comic book fans this film had to be made whether it made sense narrative-wise or not. Another so-so Superman film would not do. So, what better way to juice up the Son of Krypton franchise than by pitting him against DC’s other juggernaut property: Batman.

So, without further ado, here is the latest trailer for Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice.

The Preacher Is About To Begin Mass


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Preacher the comic book that came out in 1995 and became the title that everyone gravitated to to balance out all the superhero titles that were coming out from Marvel, DC, Image and every small publisher in-between. The book was written by Garth Ennis and drawn by Steve Dillon. It was the book that took on the institutions of the Church, government and family in the most irreverent and blasphemous way one could think of at the time.

The book had been talked of within Hollywood since it’s release as one title that producers (seems all of them at one time or another) wanted to adapt for the big-screen. It wasn’t a superhero title so there was no need to worry about trying to adapt tights-wearing heroes and villains. Yet, the book’s subject matter which tended to go into the extreme at times became something that kept the title from being adapted.

After almost two decades of futile attempts to get Preacher up onto the big-screen it took the star-power of one big-screen star (Seth Rogen) to finally get the book adapted, but not on the big-screen, but on the small-screen to become part of AMC’s stable of unique series titles (The Walking Dead, Better Call Saul, Into the Badlands).

So, fans of the books only have until 2016 to wait for their dreams of Preacher finally coming to live-action life and non-readers will finally see what all the hype has been all about.

Batman v. Superman Finally States It’s Case to the Public


 

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A funny thing happened to the Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice trailer that was set for a release at a special IMAX screening event next week. No one bothered to tell someone with a cellphone not to secretly record the trailer. A lo-res cam version of the first teaser trailer for Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice was leaked just hours after Disney released the second teaser trailer for the upcoming Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Warner Brothers scrambled to take down the lo-res trailer and made sure to use their power to threaten with legal stuff if people continued to disseminate the illegal recording. During the 24 hours since the leak someone with a much more cooler head over at WB decided to just go the Avengers: Age of Ultron route (that film’s first teaser was also leaked ahead of a planned event) and release the hi-res version of the teaser trailer instead of waiting days for the planned screening event.

So, here’s the very first teaser trailer as Warner Bros. and DC Entertainment finally make their case that whatever Disney and Marvel can do they can do as well.

Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice is set for a March 25, 2016 release date.

“The Multiversity : Pax Americana” #1 Is The Comic Of The Year — No Question


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Understand — it’s not like me to make grandiose pronouncements like “such-and-such is the movie of the year,” “such-and-such is the comic of the year,” etc. It’s pretty damn hard to pinpoint something as being the best offering in any given medium when one person, obviously, can’t see or read everything that’s out there — and it’s probably doubly stupid to engage in such hyperbole before the year is even over.

And yet — that’s exactly what I’m doing right here, and with full confidence. That’s because the latest issue of Grant Morrison’s The Multiversity has no chance of being topped, barring a miracle of some sort. It’s just. That. Fucking. Good.

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For those not familiar with the basic premise of what’s going on with The Multiversity, it’s an eight-issue mini-series from DC written by Morrison and illustrated by a bevy of the industry’s top talents — in this case,  his frequent collaborator Frank Quitely, who absolutely outdoes himself here. Yeah, okay, all his stuff’s awesome to behold, but his work  on Pax Americana leaves even his much-celebrated turns on Flex MentalloBatman And Robin, and All-Star Superman so far behind in the dust it’s not even funny. Just look at that spectacular page reproduced above and you’ll know that not only is Quitely rendering images here with amazing detail and care, he’s also pushing the boundaries of the comics page in terms of how narrative structure flows visually. I haven’t seen an artist on a “Big Two” project tell a story this hermetically sealed, with its own unique and perfectly logical, yet also expressive and evocative,  language since Dave Gibbons created the singular look and feel of the Watchmen “universe” nearly 30 years ago.

And hey, it’s no coincidence that we bring up Watchmen here since Pax Americana has been referred to, more than once, as “Morrison’s Watchmen,” and for good reason.  Each self-contained issue of The Multiveristy takes place on one of DC’s “parallel Earths,” with a slowly-unfolding, meta-fictional, ” comic within a comic” premise (nothing new for our guy Grant there, he’s been busting the fourth wall ever since his days on Animal Man) binding them all together in ways not fully understood yet given that we’re only halfway through the series, and this time out we’re on Earth-4, the Earth populated by the Charlton comics “Action Heroes” that DC acquired in the early ’80s and that Alan Moore famously first intended to utilize as his principal characters in he and Gibbons’ seminal work.  Morrison famously hates Watchmen, and takes every available opportunity to say so, and so the “intrigue factor” here is pretty high in terms of comics fans wanting to see how he’d handle essentially the same characters.

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I say “essentially the same” because, of course, Moore and Gibbons weren’t allowed to use the Charlton characters in the end, and so quick stand-ins were devised — The Question became Rorschach, Blue Beetle became Nite Owl, Nightshade became Silk Spectre, Peter Cannon, Thunderbolt became Ozymandias, Peacemaker became The Comedian, and Captain Atom became Dr. Manhattan. DC had “other plans” (most of which amounted to a hill of beans) for the “real” characters at the time, but in the “New 52” universe they’ve all been shelved indefinitely and so Morrison is free to use the original versions here — with the exception of Peter Cannon, whose copyright has reverted back to his creator, Pete Morisi.

The Watchmen similarities don’t end with the principal characters the story is based around, though — Pax Americana also employs a tight, dense story structure that plays around freely with timelines and often employs mirror images of the same scene told from multiple perspectives, such as in the astonishing two-page spread above. Rest assured, it all makes perfect sense, but odds are you won’t catch it all on the first reading unless you’re, I dunno, Stephen Hawking or something.

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And that’s part of the joy of a book like this, isn’t it? Make no mistake — if you’re not willing to invest a few hours, at least, of your time (not to mention $4.99 of your hard-earned money) into what Morrison and Quitely (along with colorist supreme Nathan Fairbairn, who imbues the world of Earth-4 with a distinctive palette all its own) have created here, you’re short-changing yourself, because this is a story that reveals more and more about itself with each successive re-read. As you continue to peruse its contents you’ll be able to glean which instances are integral to a full understanding of the complex proceedings and which are just clever structural gimmicks employed by the author to impress you, but it wouldn’t be a good mystery story — and Pax Americana is, in fact, a great mystery story, centered around the most consequential murder any society can endure, that of its leader — without a few red herrings being thrown into the mix. Heck, Morrison even takes a fun, albeit admittedly cheap, shot at his arch-enemy, Mark Millar, by deftly deconstructing the most pivotal sequence of Wanted and essentially copying it note-for-note while turning it on its ear at the same time, and has a bit of fun at the expense of the scene with Sally and Laurie Jupiet/Juspeczyk in Watchmen #2, as well. Gratuitous? Sure, but it works.

The other ballsy move Morrison makes here is in asking the same fundamental question with his story that Moore and Gibbons did with Watchmen in terms of when is it right to sacrifice the few for the (supposed) good of the many, who “gets” to make that call, and how do they arrive at their decision? Granted, it’s a weighty theme that can’t be grappled with as comprehensively in one 40-page comic as it can in 12 separate 30-page comics, but I give him credit for essentially finding a way to tell multiple (hmmmm — a multiversity?) of stories here at once, given that there’s more going on in this one issue than most comics with a standard “A to Z” linear narrative manage to pack into a year’s worth of their pages, and by utilizing the same characters (again, essentially) that Watchmen used to deal with the same (again, essentially) themes and concepts, Morrison and Quitely aren’t so much aping Moore and Gibbons as they are answering them.

None of which is to say that Pax Americana is going to make people forget about Watchmen any time soon. Or even that it’s “as good” as Watchmen. Again, it’s much shorter, for one thing — but it’s certainly as intricate, arguably even moreso, certainly as demanding, and in the end, certainly as revelatory, at least for those with the patience to give it the detailed attention it both deserves and rewards (as an added plus, you needn’t even be invested in the other Multiversity comics to get on board with this one, it reads just fine on its own).

The comic of the year? Yeah, I can say that pretty easily — even though there’s a bunch of other stuff I haven’t read, and the year’s not over yet.

Horror Artist Profile: Bernie Wrightson (1948- )


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Horror fans know who Bernie Wrightson is even if not by name, but by the work he has done in the horror field.

Born in October 27, 1948, Bernie Wrightson has made his name creating some of the more recognizable horror illustrations since the 1970’s. Wrightson would have his break out work in conjunction with Len Wein in co-creating the character Swamp Thing for DC Comics in 1971. In time, Wrightson would move on from DC Comics and the character he created for Warren Publishing that were well-known for producing black-and-white horror titles.

Throughout the years, Wrightson would end up producing some classic images for horror stories ranging from Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein right up to several Stephen King novels (The Stand, Cycle of the Werewolf and Wolves of the Calla).

Here’s to hoping that Wrightson has many more years of horror work ready to fire up the imaginations of horror fans everywhere.

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My Visit to the New York Comic Con 2013


Imagine a place where you can see all of your favorite comic book heroes and heroines, argue over whether organic web shooters are better than classic ones, and witness creativity on so many different levels. The New York Comic Con was a 4 day spectacle of pop culture madness mixed with tons of cosplay. I only picked up a ticket for Saturday, but I really have to one day shoot for a 3 or 4 day pass next year.

I think I may have made 4 passes through the interior and exterior areas of the hall, and for every pass there was something new to catch your eye. There was a Transformers booth with some of the classic toys that was a treat. Kotobukiya was on hand with someone their great pieces. The Psylocke one in particular was really sweet. Also on hand were various fantasy sword manufacturers, somewhat surprising in New York given how much security we have here. Clothing, toys, books, drawings. You name it and chances are that you’d run into someone creating a print – like Destiny Blue’s beautiful art.

I was basically there for to use my camera, which didn’t really work out the way I planned. Between the bustle of the crowds (which was immense) and also trying to snap pics with my phone…they kind of came out a bit blurry. I made the mistake of adjusting the shutter speed to get the exposure right, meaning that in some cases the speed was so low that the slightest nudge or shift would blur the image. The next Con will be better, apologies all around.

I met cosplayer VampyBit.me (Linda Le) at her booth, picking up a Nightwing print which she autographed for me. She is so tiny and cute! Somehow in the course of being there, I missed out on seeing Ivy Doomkitty. She happened to be located just off of the Marvel booth. Speaking off the Marvel Booth, Chris Clairemont was on hand, signing pictures and comics. Additionally, Coulson’s car from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was also there, though of course no one was able to touch it.

So, without further ado, I give you my picture set for the NYCC 2013. These are some of the better ones. The full set is visible on my shared Flikr Page. Enjoy.

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“Oh, The Villainy!” TTSL Style, Take Three : “Harley Quinn” #1


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So, I’ve saved the worst for last.

Oh, sure, there are plenty more DC “Villains Month” books that we could talk about, but I counted up earlier today and between this site and Geeky Universe I’ve reviewed an even 10 of these things, and that’s enough for me. After this, I’m out.

Anyhoo, in recent weeks, in case you haven’t been following the comics industry scuttlebutt, DC has come under fire for having an open submission contest for new artists. What’s so wrong with that, you ask? Why, nothing — it’s great to find new “talent” to replace the already poorly-compensated average comic book penciller, I suppose. You don’t like drawing Justice League for 80 bucks a page, no health insurance or pension, and little to no royalties per copy sold? Fine. We’ll find some new kid to take your job who’ll work for 60 bucks a page and won’t complain. It’s the American way, right?

So what’s this got to do with Harley Quinn #1, or Detective Comics #23.2, as the official record-keepers would have it? Well, the “sample page” DC wanted their next generation of potential suck — err, freelance non-contract employees to submit was a scene depicting super-villain Harley Quinn, best known as the Joker’s on-again/off-again girlfriend, sitting naked in a bathtub and slicing her wrists open. Sex n’ suicide — again, the American way, right?

As insanely offensive at worst, tone deaf at best as the theme for this “new talent contest” was, however, it ain’t squat compared to what Harley does in this book. This whole “villains month” fiasco has already given us a mass shooting in a hospital in the pages of Desaad #1 and a workplace mass-murder/ suicide in the pages of Solomon Grundy #1, both of which would lead one to suspect that none of the suits at DC have been following the news for the past, I dunno, decade or so, but here, writer Matt Kindt (who was also responsible for the aforementioned Solomon Grundy, and who’s capable of soooooo much better,  as his work on Dark Horse’s Mind Mgmt. series shows) has the psychotic villainess, in between flashback sequences to her pre-evil nutcase days as a psychiatrist at Gotham City’s infamous Arkham Asylum, engineer a senseless mass slaughter of innocent poor children by giving away booby-tapped video game systems at a local orphanage.  When she flicks a switch, the Nintendos or Segas or X-Boxes or whatever all go “boom!” and the kids all get killed.

And after that, she’s recruited by Deadshot to rejoin the Suicide Squad, a team of hard-luck “anti-heroes” who work for the government. You know, the very same government that should be locking her ass away in prison for life for just having killied hundreds of children for no reason whatsoever.

Artist Neil Googe does a decent enough job illustrating this senseless and thoroughly tasteless tale of depravity, but that’s just trying to stitch a silk purse out of a sow’s ear when your subject matter is this out-and-out vile. I don’t blame him for the overall tone of the book, but shit, I honestly wouldn’t care how badly I needed to eat, I’d have refused this assignment if I were in his shoes.

But hey, who knows, right? DC’s playing pretty fast and loose with continuity these days, maybe we’ll find out this whole sorry spectacle was just a delirious fever-dream that naked Harley was having while she killed herself in her tub.

“Oh, The Villainy!” TTSL Style, Take Two : “Two Face” #1


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Not sure what to really say about Two Face #1, or as it’s known to the more officious Batman And Robin #23.1 (even though, say it with me, “Robin’s dead again these days”), apart from the fact that it probably has the neatest of the 3-D holographic covers that have adorned any of DC’s “Villains Month” books. And since that’s the only selling point this comic  seems to have going for it, maybe I should just leave it at that and call it a day, right?

Nah. The folks behind this travesty don’t deserve to get off that easy.

And by “folks,” I should say that I mean specifically writer Peter J. Tomasi. The art by Guillem March on this one is actually pretty good — even really good for the first few pages, before settling into a “competent enough to get the job done” kind of groove. The story, though, is a complete and utter waste of time.

Figuring everybody already knows the origin  of former Gotham City D.A. turned criminal boss/mastermind Two Face, Tomasi opts to skip the detailed backstory and just waste time for twenty pages. We see Two Face flip his infamous scarred coin a lot, threaten fellow baddie Scarecrow, settle a few old scores from his days on the right side of the law, and reminisce about some past events, and that’s it. At the end he flicks his coin once again to see whether or not he’ll raise hell now that Batman’s supposedly out of the picture (“dead,” it would seem, along with the rest of the Justice League, in the limp and predictable-to-a-fault Forever Evil mega-crossover mini-series) or chill out and watch his fellow crazies do the job for him. We don’t get to see the result of the toss, and it doesn’t really matter because, well — the rest of the book didn’t, either. Tomasi has taken a page from Seinfeld, it would seem, and given us a comic where more or less nothing actually happens.

I dunno, I’ve felt generally ripped off, snookered, and otherwise suckered by more or less every one of these “Villains Month” issues, but this one might take the cake in terms of being the most overtly pointless of the entire rancid bunch. Which is kind of shame when you stop and think about it because Two Face, as a character, is (or at least was, prior to this whole “New 52” thing) at least a somewhat interesting and compelling figure, and he probably still could be. But he’s not here. Shit, Tomasi doesn’t even put in enough effort to make him actively dull in this book, he’s just sorta — there.

But your four bucks won’t be if you’re foolish enough (as I was) to buy this rag.

“Oh, The Villainy!” TTSL Style, Take One : “Joker” #1


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Okay, first things first — for those of you (assuming there are any) who have been wondering wondering just where the hell I’ve been hiding the last couple of months, rest assured, I’ve been writing as much as ever — maybe even moreso. Just not about movies. And just not here. Which may come as a relief, I’ll bet, to some. But for those among you who just have  to have an explanation —

I’m currently in the midst of two comics-related series over at http://www.geekyuniverse.com, which I’ve been — ahem! — “re-presenting” over on my own “main” site — http://trashfilmguru.wordpress.com — as well. One, entitled “Just Pay Ditko!” is an exploration of the questionable (at best) ethics of the current comic reprint craze that’s seeing the works of some of the industry’s greatest talents packaged in high-quality, expensive hardcovers — with no compensation being directed toward the artists and writers whose work is contained in these hefty tomes. As you might gather from the title,  I’m paying special attention to this unfolding dilemma as it relates to Spider-Man and Doctor Strange’s real creator, visionary artist Steve Ditko, but the scope of the articles has expanded somewhat to include other creators, as well as other creator’s-rights-related issues. I can’t imagine the average Through The Shattered Lens reader would find all this terribly interesting, but for those of you who want a glimpse into comics’ sorry ethical and legal practices, you may want to hop on over to GU and take a look — right now I’m up to part 12 in the series and will probably be looking to wrap it up somewhere around part 15  or 16 in the next few weeks.

The other ongoing “concern” I’m immersed in, however, might be of at least slightly more concern to you good folks here, though, and that is my continuing evisceration of DC’s uniformly sorry and uninspired/uninspiring “Villains Month” books. For those (blissfully, I might add) not in the know about this, throughout the month of September the House That Superman (or, more accurately, Siegel and Shuster) Built is turning all their regular monthly titles over to the bad guys, and throwing flashy 3-D holographic covers on each of the issues (at an extra buck a pop) , to boot. Quite clearly this is nothing but a cheap publicity stunt to gin up sales in the short term, but then so is everything that DC and Marvel does these days. As you’d expect, this being the current “New 52” take on these characters, the results are pretty dire. But given that I’ve droned on about these books for a few weeks already over at GU and that’s I’m an equal-opportunity kind of guy who wishes to spread the miser— err, wealth — around a bit, I thought I’d save my last few entries in this series for the readers here at TTSL and give you all a little taste of what you’ve been missing if you’ve wisely chosen to ignore these comics.

And so, without any further ado, let’s take a look at Joker #1 — or, as it’s officially numbered, Batman #23.1 — shall we?

In short, despite having better art, courtesy of Andy Clarke, than most of those other “Villains Month” quick-cash-grabs, this book still pretty well sucks, and that’s entirely down to the lame script by Andy Kubert, who’s turning out to be nowhere near the writer-artist his legendary father, Joe, was.

Kubert starts off with some possible flashbacks to the Joker’s origins — never a good idea for anyone to tackle unless their name is Alan Moore — then segues into, I guess, the present day, wherein the Clown Prince Of Crime decides to expand his inner circle by liberating a gorilla from the Gotham City Zoo, naming the hapless creature Jackanapes, and raising it as his own, well, child, I guess.

Oh, sure, it’ll all end in tears, but the limp nods Kubert makes toward Grant Morrison-era Doom Patrol-style surrealism are so ham-fisted and ill-considered that it makes for a downright excruciating read even if Clarke’s pencils and inks are generally pretty pleasing to the eye. For a “special” issue, the whole thing has the feel of a good, old-fashioned “inventory” story that’s been sitting on the shelf, unpublished (for good reason) for a couple of years. It’s all over as quickly as it is predictably, which is probably its’  one saving grace (at least only five minutes of your life will be wasted on it), but at the end of the day all you really are for your $3.99 investment is, well, a little bit more broke.  You already knew the Joker was crazy, you already knew that he has a habit of making irrational decisions, and you already knew he was capable of acting utterly without conscience. Giving him a pet ape doesn’t change any of that, nor does it do much to “shed new light” on his character, motivations, you name it.

I think it’s safe to assume that you get the picture here, but just in case you don’t, I’ll make it real easy — avoid at all costs.

Trash Film Guru Vs. The Summer Blockbusters : “Man Of Steel”


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I know that, in this day and age, we as a society seem to get off on tearing down our myths and legends and “humanizing” them, but seriously — when did Superman develop a split personality?

Before you jump to any conclusions based on that admitted “gotcha” of an opening line, allow me to state for the record that I didn’t actively dislike Zack Snyder’s Man Of Steel, it’s just that it spends its first half or so rather half-heartedly trying to portray its title character in more human terms than we’ve seen in previous iterations before finally throwing all that out the window and deciding that it actually wants to tell a story about a God who walks (and flies) among us, and the film definitely suffers as a result of this abrupt shift in tone.

But first the “plus” side of the ledger : Man Of Steel is pretty much the most awesome visual spectacle the movies have ever produced. I’m no fan of CGI as a general rule, but damn if every single effects shot in this flick isn’t enough to take your breath away, particularly the sequences on Superman’s home planet of Krypton, which Snyder and his WETA-employed staff depict in a markedly new and exciting “biotech on steroids” fashion. When the action goes earthbound, the optical awesomeness continues, never fear, so if spectacle is what you’re after, you’ll walk away from this well pleased indeed.

Pitch-perfect (with one notable exception which we’ll get to in a moment) casting doesn’t hurt matters any, either — Henry Cavill makes an immediate impression in both his Superman and Clark Kent personas; Russell Crowe is suitably above it all as his Kryptonian father, Jor-El; Kevin Costner and Diane Lane are almost too spot-on for words as his adopted human parents; Laurence Fishburne’s Perry White is old-school newspaper vet all the way (even with the pierced ear); and the always-underrated Michael Shannon oozes psychotic menace as lead villain General Zod. Watching all these people at work is a genuine joy.

Granted, the script — by Dark Knight veteran David S. Goyer (from a story co-plotted with the head honcho of this whole enterprise, Christopher Nolan) — doesn’t do any of them any favors dialogue-wise (apparently Kryptonians have evolved beyond good, old-fashioned conversation and speak entirely in grandiose pronouncements — but it’s not like the mere humans in this film are any less prone to dull, dry, wooden,  faux-poetic waxings themselves), but the players by and large manage to rise above the material they’ve been handed.

I say “by and large” (and here comes that exception I talked about a moment ago) because, sadly, one has been dealt such a losing hand that I’m not sure what she could really have done about it — I’m speaking, of course, about Amy Adams’ Lois Lane. Goyer does some brave and interesting things in terms of shaking up the established Clark-Lois backstory ( let’s just say she won’t be sneaking glimpses of him at sly angles when his glasses are off to see how much he might or might not look like Superman), but the cold, emotionally distant nature of this particular big-budget beast means that the whole love story angle falls pretty flat. By the time Goyer, Nolan, and Snyder decide they want to play the Nietzchean uberman card for all it’s worth, the independent, confident journalist we meet at the outset is reduced to becoming more awestruck than she is lovestruck, and rather than being “Superman’s girlfriend” she comes off more as his disciple. Who just so happens to kiss him. I mentioned the abrupt tonal shift in the film at the outset of this review, and poor Lois definitely suffers the brunt of it.

The messianic poses Cavill is forced into during all the flight and battle sequences get pretty old pretty fast as well, it’s gotta be said, and with no real transition period in the way the story is structured between its “simple farm boy from Kansas”  and its “demi-god here to save us all from the evil forces originating from his own homeworld” (that he inadvertently brought here himself, but hey, let’s not dwell on that) segments, well — let’s just say not much thought apparently went into how jarringly that would all play out. Hans Zimmer’s typically percussive, insistent musical score only augments the problem, and while there’s no way anybody was gonna have fans forgetting about John Williams, a “stripped-down,” “less over the top” orchestral accompaniment really doesn’t work when you’re trying to portray Superman as a fucking deity.

Superman purists, for their part,  may also find themselves semi-outraged by more than the snakeskin-fetish-wear take on his costume. There’s no Jimmy Olsen here, no Lex Luthor (although the “Lexcorp” logo appears here and there on props throughout — as do the logos for Sears, 7-11, and an unending and highly annoying litany of corporate sponsors), and “Metropolis” is never mentioned by name even though the entire final act takes place there. So be ready for at least some “nerd-rage” on the internet. Still, if those were the only things that bugged me about Man Of Steel, I’d be feeling a little bit better about it as a whole right about now. Not that I’m all that pissed or disappointed —-just, well, kinda perplexed.

I can’t say that Man Of Steel isn’t a fun movie to watch, because it is — hell, it’s an absolute visual marvel, and if you want to shut your brain off and just be taken along for a wild adventure ride, you’re not gonna do much better this (or any other) summer  Still —my mind kept drifting back to the famous first-encounter-between-Supes-and-Lois scene in Richard Donner’s Superman : The Movie (still the gold standard for all superhero flicks as far as I’m concerned) : when Lois asks him “who are you?,” and he replies, simply and with a smile, “a friend,” that told us all we needed to know right there. Sure, he was faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but at the end of the day , Superman as envisioned by Richard Donner, Mario Puzo, and Christopher Reeve was one of us.

By contrast, Superman a la Snyder, Nolan, Goyer and Cavill is above us. He’s not here to help humanity, but to redeem it. He’s not our hero anymore, he’s our savior — whether we want one or not.