What Superhero Movies Get Wrong

We are living at a point in time when the cups of comic book lovers runneth over. With single-character movies leading into team-up films leading into vast world building cinematic universes, it's strange to think that Hollywood's love affair with mutants, super-soldiers, aliens, and billionaire vigilantes is still relatively recent. Yet, as the genre has grown from a few one-off films to the massive, interwoven tales that we see unspooling before us from now until kingdom come, there are still things that the movies miss out on, or just mess up when trying to bring superheroes to the screen.

Ever since the landmark publishing of Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns (1986) and Alan Moore's Watchmen (1987), with their amoral super-heroics, gruesome violence, and dark subject matter, comics writers have often confused darkness for depth. Writers assume that probing the depths of human depravity made comics more realistic, as if that was the medium's goal in the first place. And nowhere is this concept of darkness presented with such disappointing results as in Man of Steel. Everything about the movie is unavoidably and unnecessarily dark: from the death of Jonathan Kent, to the straight-up murder of Zod committed by the film's "hero," to the very demeanor Superman presents on-screen. The dude is all dark, which is strange for a character who is literally strengthened by his exposure to sunlight. The film seemed to wallow in misery, taking a character who is supposed to inspire and uplift and making him a monster and making the story a long, miserable slog towards nihilism.

Every superhero needs someone or something to save. And since the main character is a superhero, you are pretty sure that they will be victorious. So, if that's the case, you need to set the stakes for the film at a level that the audience feels that something really bad, really tangible, and really possible could happen. Consider the Avengers. All of the characters we've been meeting through Marvel's individual films come together to defeat an alien invasion in New York City. Are the effects impressive? Yes. Are there some cool action sequences? Yes. Is the end ever in doubt? No. And that's a problem. A movie needs stakes to make the audience continue caring about what happens to the characters, since it is possible that a character may be irrevocably changed by a personal failing or the death of a close friend or family member. You also need stakes that become progressively higher. For instance, in Avengers, they save a city from the aforementioned invasion. In Avengers: Age of Ultron, they save another city from being destroyed. So then, aren't they kind of the same?

Superheroes are only ever as good or as compelling as their villains. But movies tend to forget that. One of the reasons that Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight is generally considered at or near the top of the superhero genre is the performance that Heath Ledger gave as the Joker. His insanity and violence made for an existential threat to Batman, the people who he cares about, the principles he believes in, and the city he has sworn to protect. You cannot think of that film without thinking of the Joker. Now quick, who was the villain of the Iron Man I, II, or III? How about Ant-Man? Or even Guardians of the Galaxy? This problem is so pervasive that at one point, Spider-Man 3 pretty much gave up on having compelling villains by throwing a bunch of them at Emo-Peter Parker so that the audience would have something to watch after they'd eaten their popcorn.

Let's just put it out there: comic books and the movies they have spawned have been pretty one-note with how they portray women. They are either damsels in distress, supporting characters helping to advance the personal journeys of their male counterparts, or love interests...and often a combination of all of these roles. Even the most celebrated female character in superhero movies, Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow, is a bit player in each of the movies in which she has appeared. In one, she's eye candy for Tony Stark. In another
she's trying to help Bruce Banner grow comfortable with his violent alter-ego. To be sure, Black Widow does have some awesome scenes, but they only serve to drive home the fact that she could carry an entire film by herself as the superhero we deserve. Hopefully the tide will start to turn when Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel get their solo films.

If comic book movies have been unkind to women, they've been even worse in attempting to incorporate any characters that aren't portrayed by jacked white guys named Chris. Yes, it's been pointed out online before, but it bears repeating: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Chris Pratt have all had top-billing in Marvel's flicks. The only non-white superhero to headline his own movie is Marvel's Blade, who debuted in 1998 and whose last film came out in 2004. Since then, any attempts at diversity have been relegated to the wise mentor or "best friend" role with bracing regularity: Nick Fury, James "Rhodey" Rhodes as War Machine, and Sam Wilson as the Falcon. The arrival of Chadwick Bozeman's T'Challa cannot come soon enough. And even still, it will be one example in a sea of movies that stick to the already dated script preventing casting choices that reflect the make-up of the respective comics universes and the audiences that love them. Frankly, the characters and their audiences deserve better.