I will preface this post with a very, very important disclaimer — I am NOT a movie buff. In fact, I hardly have the attention span to sit still in a restaurant for more than 45 minutes, or to enjoy a regular conversation for over 10 exchanges. …Perhaps that’s a bit extreme.
Additionally, I have never read a single DC or Marvel comic strip in my life. But I was raised and heroically trained by a most adamant superhero lover, who occasionally ties a towel around his neck and calls our family dog “Robin.” My father can be considered the guru of all things involving radioactivity, space exploration, and power struggles in graphic literature. …Also, not quite.
I digress. Let us seat my uncanny knowledge of superheroes before a 2 hour Hollywood film. That’s essentially what occurred. Superman- the invincible, the alien, the man of steel- suddenly became a squirming lab rat of a psychological specimen. Superman is now wearing a shroud of loneliness and despair. And don’t feed me that, “You just don’t want to see Superman cry” bullshit. Guess what? HISTORICALLY, HE DOESN’T.
Guys. I don’t care how drop dead gorgeous Henry Cavill is (and always has been – I have loved him FOOO’ EVA). The only accurate progression was the explosive and violent destruction of Metropolis during the epic fight battle. Cyclones of glass shards, crushed bodies, dust covered heaps of cement… and our hero, streaking into the next edifice with General Zod’s head secured under his armpit.
Ok, so you wanted to “modernize” a timeless, fictional comic character, who is also an ALIEN (i.e., not human, lacking identical neurological architecture and thus psychological capabilities). Suddenly, he possesses his entire species’ genetic code (ripping off the human genome project, eh?). Suddenly, Jorel. Suddenly, the Fortress of Solitude is not as such, but is a “Genesis Chamber.” Suddenly, Lois FUCKING Lane is blonde.
What part of eternally and snarkily brunette did you NOT understand? “Lois Lane” tends to go synonymously with short, dark hair. This fair-haired film “Lois” was only a sarcastic bitch for the first 3 minutes of her entrance (INTO said Genesis Chamber, mind you). How could you veto such a classic rule in the Superman legacy?!
General inconsistencies with the situation on Krypton also manifested themselves. I won’t spoil all the failure, but let me say this much – it is solely our yellow sun in this solar system that powers SUperman. Not the fucking composition of the air. Not the sun’s “youth.” If the MoS writers knew ANYTHING AT ALL about astronomy, they’d be aware that young stars are actually on the bluer end of the spectrum, and our sun is yellow-green, slowly approaching the END of its stellar life.
At the end of the day, after an excruciatingly long and loud one-on-one brawl with General Zod, my dude actually KILLS THIS MOTHERFUCKER. He snaps his vertebral column in one swift twist of the C-spine. Since when does Superman kill anyone? Especially someone who is supposed to be tragically committed to the Phantom Zone? So you’re telling me… that for the past TWO HOURS THAT I’VE BEEN FUCKING SITTING HERE [QUIETLY], Superman will go against every “good” strand of morality he stands for, and kill his own kind? And you want me to also believe that General Zod’s C-spine is his Achilles heel?
And let’s backtrack and discuss the Phantom Zone, briefly. Why would Kryptonian officials “condemn” Zod and his henchmen to 300 cycles in the Phantom Zone while their planet is about to die? You just preserved your criminals. And all that talk of genetics and preserving the “best lines”… you JUST SAVED YOUR SCUM. I don’t care that the writers attempted to implement an Orwellian utopia on Krypton, with predetermined births that forced Zod to become the ultimate savior for his race. That was incredibly full of stupid.
Man of Steel can be likened to a theoretical and disastrous lovechild of Batman Begins and Spiderman I (with Tobey tobez). It was chock full of psychological trauma and emotional struggle, and moral training to become a superhero. “With great power comes great responsibility,” says Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben… NOT THE KENTS. WTF. They instilled in young Clark a sense of solitude and hope, promising him that he and his powers were destined for carefully planned greatness.
I feel like I can go on forever. Did I mention how shaky the camera was throughout the entire film? I wondered if they ran out of capital for tripods after paying a heavy salary Amy Blonde Fucking Adams, to stare doe-eyed at Henry Cavill.