The New Season: Marvel Agents of SHIELD--A Brief Review

I enjoyed "Marvel Agents of SHIELD."  Actually, I enjoyed watching it even more than I enjoyed it the first time I saw it, when it was called "Alphas."  I trust I am not alone in happily welcoming back Agent Coulson (Clark Gregg), who has recovered nicely from his slight case of, um, death.  But do we have to call it, "Marvel Agents of SHIELD"?  How corporate-conscious do we need to be?  It's like always referring to "Yahoo" as "Yahoo!"

Lack of Afflecktion

No sooner is Ben Affleck announced as the next Batman than the internet goes berserk.  From the amount of vitriol, one would think a moratorium on panda videos had been announced.  All I can think is, Am I missing something?  Wherefore all this misplaced rage?  What, exactly, did Ben Affleck ever do to the interwebs?

The last time we saw Ben Affleck, he was accepting an Academy Award for Best Picture on behalf of the production crew of "Argo."  But for a blatant snub, he most likely would have accepted the award for Best Director about ten minutes before that.

I will grant you that Affleck is probably a better director than actor, but still, he acquitted himself perfectly well in "Argo"--and in several other movies besides.  I had no problem with his performances in "Chasing Amy" or "Good Will Hunting" or "The Town"--even if he was not the main "draw" of any of those films--and see no reason why he won't be a perfectly acceptable Batman.

As far as these things go, Affleck is hardly the most surprising casting choice ever made to play the Caped Crusader.  That honor goes to Michael Keaton--and that worked out pretty well.

Think about it: To play this part, Affleck will basically have to pull off "charming" as Bruce Wayne and "intense" as Batman.  He can do that.

Will he be as good as Christian Bale?  Maybe, maybe not, but that's really the wrong question: I have little doubt that the movie--which seems at this point primarily to be a Superman movie anyway--will be inferior to Christopher Nolan's recently completed trilogy--if only because director Zack Snyder has shown no signs of being able to make movies of the same quality as Nolan's.

Because here's the real point: In the history of superhero movies, some have been great, some have been good, and many have been bad, but the quality has almost nothing to do with the acting abilities of whoever is cast as the hero.  Christopher Reeve was a terrific Superman, but the four Superman movies he starred in were of vastly differing quality: The first two were highly entertaining, the third and fourth are basically unwatchable.  George Clooney is a universally acclaimed actor--an Academy Award winner, for Pete's sake!--but his turn as Batman is best remembered for nipples-on-the-breastplate.

I would go so far as to say that the number of actors who have played superheroes--and who have made a significant contribution to the quality of the films because of their portrayal--is exactly one: Robert Downey, Jr., as Tony Stark/Iron Man.  The movies might have been OK without Robert Downey, and another actor could have done an acceptable job as Marvel Comic's own answer to Bruce Wayne, but Robert Downey's effortless incarnation of Tony Stark--with all of his arrogance, wit, charm, and, ultimately, darkness--elevated a series of popcorn movies into the realm of art.

For the most part, superhero movies are action-packed spectacles, dependent upon the vision of the director and the talents of the technical crew for whatever quality they possess.  If Zack Snyder succeeds in making a crowd-pleasing extravaganza--as I suspect he will--Ben Affleck will be noted, appropriately, as just one more well-utilized prop.

What about the Vision and Scarlet Witch?

I guess I have to see "The Avengers."  I've had some concerns, but it seems to be getting good reviews.  I guess if you average out the awesomeness of the "Iron Man" movies, the general okayness of "Captain America," the mediocrity of "The Hulk" and what I understand to be the dreariness of "Thor" (didn't see it), you're probably in for at least an OK movie.  Since Hawkeye and Black Widow haven't shown up in movies yet, they would be the wild cards.

And y'know that image they keep showing from the movie, where all the heroes are circled up:

Don't you think Hawkeye must feel tremendously inadequate?  All those real superheroes must find his little arrows (no Freudian symbolism there, huh?) just adorable.  Yeah, I know Black Widow doesn't really have super powers, either, but she's packing heat--and she's Scarlett Johanneson  (Johanssen?  Johannesburg?) in a black rubber suit, so, y'know. . . .who cares?

Two Hours I'm Not Getting Back

Watched "Green Lantern" the other night.  Because it was THERE, OK?  A couple of observations:

OBSERVATION #1) As even a casual reader of the Green Lantern comic book knows, Green Lantern's arch-enemy is Sinestro.  In this version, though, Sinestro spends the entire movie as Green Lantern's colleague--admittedly, a begrudging and arrogant colleague, but a colleague nonetheless.  At the very end of the film--after the end credits have begun to roll, in fact--Sinestro slips the yellow power ring on his finger, thus indicating that he has--for no apparent reason that I can see--become evil.  Obviously the producers are banking on there being enough interest to justify a sequel.

My point, though, is that, if you're going to launch a superhero franchise, the FIRST movie should feature a battle between the hero and his/her/their arch-nemesis: Superman vs. Lex Luthor!  The X-Men vs. Magneto!  Spider-man vs. the Green Goblin!  Nitpickers will point out that Christopher Nolan's Batman didn't fight the Joker until the sequel, to which we will reply that (A) whoever directed "Green Lantern" is no Christopher Nolan and therefore does not deserve as much leeway, and (B) Nolan was actually "re-booting" the Batman franchise; Tim Burton's initial Batman did, of course, fight the Joker in film one.  Green Lantern fans (they MUST exist) were no doubt clamoring for a knock-down drag-out ringslinging showdown between GL and Sinestro.  They wuz robbed!

OBSERVATION #2) I think I finally "get" Ryan Reynolds: He's this generation's Keanu Reeves, i.e., a very good-looking actor who can't act and who has all the charisma of a mop.  Still, as one of my colleagues pointed out, "He's really hot."  But that's not the point!  "Yes it is."  No, it really isn't  "No, it REALLY is."

Sigh.

My blog, I get the last word: No.  It REALLY isn't.

Enter: The Lemur!

From today's Times comes the news that ordinary citizens are taking the law into their own hands ("Crusaders Take Page, and Outfits, from Comics").  Unlike tacky vigilantes of yore, though, today's citizen-crimefighters are doing things right: They are donning ridiculous costumes and patrolling the mean streets of metropolises like Salt Lake City, armed only with cellphones and an inflated sense of their own imperviousness to grievous personal injury.

I am inspired!

Our streets are not safe!  The police cannot control the city!  The time has come for ordinary citizens and self-promoting bloggers to enter the fray, casting aside concerns for personal safety and common sense.  Like the costumed heroes of Utah's Black Monday Society--ordinary citizens who have declared war on crime and apathy--I shall take it upon myself to uphold all that is good!

Now, all I need is a costume. . . .  Let's see.  Criminals are, by nature, a superstitious and cowardly lot, so my disguise must be able to strike terror into their hearts.   I must become a creature of the night, dark, dangerous, mysterious.  Ah.  Of course.  I shall become a lemur.

Scampering around the city by night--not too late, though, 'cause I have to go to work in the morning--I shall harass and confound the criminals who plague our fair city.  I shall snatch sunglasses and baseball caps and run quickly up nearby trees or telephone poles, waving my trophies tauntingly while, below, frustrated felons howl in impotent rage.

Fear not, good citizens.  The Lemur is on the case!

Well, right after dinner, anyway.

REALLY Waiting for Superman

The 12-year-old was doomed.  In the chaos, as smoke and tear gas filled the street, he had made a wrong turn.  By the time he realized he had headed down a blind alley, the soldier had caught up to him, cutting off his only escape route.  As the soldier raised his rifle, the boy saw past him people running by the mouth of the alley.  In the noise and confusion, though, no one would hear him if he screamed for help.  No one could have done anything anyway.  The boy closed his eyes and waited, praying it wouldn't hurt.  Then he heard the gunshot.

He heard the gunshot?  Was that even possible?  Could you actually hear the gunshot that killed you?  And how could he still be here, alive, wondering about the possibility of hearing the gunshot that killed you?  The boy opened his eyes and saw red.  Not blood.  Not rage.  Literal, simple red, waving in his face, blocking his view.  A cape.  A cape worn by a man.  A man who now walked forward, unharmed by the panicked shooting of the stunned soldier, until he could reach out, grab the gun, and crush it with one hand.  The soldier ran off.  The man in the cape turned and looked at the boy.  He smiled and then, amazingly, he flew away.

Always satisfying when this sort of thing happens.  We cheer when Superman (or, lately, Iron Man, Captain America, or any other costumed righter-of-wrongs) swoops in to save the day.  As Americans, we take a special pleasure in watching foreign dictators or their minions receive their comeuppance.  Superman, after all, fought not only for truth and justice, but also the American way.  He was our proxy.  No wonder, then, that, when Americans read about governmental militiamen gunning down innocent protesters in Syria or genocidal activities in Africa, we desperately want someone to do something.  We want Superman to swoop in and save the day.

Or if not Superman, then the next best thing: America's armed forces.  As Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright once argued with then-Chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Colin Powell about his reluctance to intervene in the Balkans conflicts, saying something to the effect of, "What's the point of having this wonderful military if we never use it?"

Sounds kind of awful when you think about it, the American military as soon-to-expire gift-card: Better use it or lose it, whether we need a new flatscreen TV (or democratic regime in the Middle East) or not.

Superman had the advantage of being an individual (and fictional, but that's something else altogether).  He could act purely on principle and do what he thought was right, needing no congressional approval or public-opinion research.  Of course, if he had polled his constituents, he would undoubtedly have found overwhelming approval for actions like the one descirbed above.  "Go get him, Supe!"  At the same time, most Americans are understandably leery about committing our own real-life troops and treasure in similar activities, even though the US military, when compared to those of most other nations, is in a comparatively Kryptonian position.

The US (and all countries) acts in its own national interests, and one can argue that the mere overthrow of distasteful leaders does not automatically meet those criteria.  We wonder, though, what  negative effect it has on a nation's collective psyche, when its citizens yearn emotionally to do the right thing, and understand that the power to do the right thing exists, but must come to grips with the fact that the right thing, for any number of realpolitik reasons, simply cannot be done.

Idea for a Superhero (A Brief Post)

The Defeatist!

With great power comes great self-doubt!

His abilities are surpassed only by his pessimism!

Evildoers beware! The Defeatist is here! (Oh, but you'll probably win anyway. . . .)

Immaturity

"Re-imagined comic book heroine Wonder Woman

The re-imagined comic book heroine Wonder Woman is shown in this undated publicity photo released to Reuters June 30, 2010. The DC Comics Comic book super heroine has traded in her spangled hot pants for urban leggings and upped her street smarts in a 21st century make-over for the 69 year-old character."

Commentary: Heh, heh. . . . They said 69.

Caped Crusaders

And the winner is. . . .  Well, it's actually a tie.  With two votes apiece (The Solipsist really needs more readers, folks), the best Batman award is split between Michael Keaton and Adam West.  This tells us two things: One, a good 50% of Solipsistics are ironists.  And two, all the readers exhibit discernment.  The fact is, there has not yet been a perfect Batman.  Oh, undoubtedly, The Dark Knight is a superb movie--the best of the franchise, and a tremendous film in its own right--but this does not make Christian Bale the best Batman ('tho perhaps we can stipulate Christopher Nolan the best "bat"-rector?  The Solipsist is open to discussion on Tim Burton).  The trick is, any actor has to embody not just the menacing hero but also has to be convincing as Bruce Wayne.  Christian Bale had a clear persona as Wayne the bored playboy, but it was almost TOO clearly a persona.  Michael Keaton (the Solipsist's personal choice) presented the best combination of a believable Wayne and a threatening Batman--but even he didn't quite pull off "playboy" (and his weak chin looked disturbing poking through the cowl). In fact, on paper, George Clooney was perfect.  Too bad the movie was made.

But anyone playing a comic book character has the deck stacked against him (or her):  (A) They have to be good enough actors to pull off the dual personalities described above.  Who was the best?  Probably Tobey Maguire: For the Solipsist's money, he WAS Peter Parker, and, since Spidey's personality is not too drastic an opposition to Peter's, he worked well in the costume as well.  (B) Even when they ARE good actors, they are overshadowed--first by the high-tech moviemaking, and second--and more significantly--by the villains.  Michael Keaton was fine; Jack Nicholson was memorable.  Christian Bale was probably about the best one could hope for; Heath Ledger was scary.  The filmmakers know this, too.  Just think about how many times the villain has been a bigger star than the hero: Gene Hackman and, later, Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor opposite a then unknown Christopher Reeve and a still unknown whatshisface (no, he doesn't even merit a Google lookup) as Superman.  Sir Ian McKellen as Magneto vs. a then-unknown Hugh Jackman as Wolverine.  (Yes, yes, Patrick Stewart was Professor X, but that's more like the Brando role, not the superhero.  And the fact that a mega-star like Halle Berry was relegated to the second fiddle of Storm says more about racism and sexism in Hollywood than any number of Academy Award snubs).  Eric Bana as the Hulk vs. Nick Nolte as. . . well, whatever his name was in the movie.  Need we go on?

And why shouldn't this be the case?  Let's face it, villains are more interesting.  Be honest with yourselves, folks: If YOU had super powers, would you use them for good or evil?  Maybe a little bit of both, but none of us would likely be as pure of heart as Superman.  In an escapist medium, we identify more with villains, and filmmakers and movie stars know this.  Maybe (MAYBE) deep down we want the hero to win, but while those two hours pass in the darkened theater, a tiny part of us wants to see the bad guy come out on top.  And having the villain played by the name-above-the-title gives that tiny part something to cling to.

(PS: The single most terrifying comic book ever written, "Miracleman" by Alan Moore, is basically a disquisition on what would happen if Superman walked the earth--not for the faint of heart.  For a cinematic taste of what this would be like, keep your fingers crossed that the upcoming "Watchmen" (another Moore project) is worth seeing.)