Just following on from that discussion of Zack Snyder’s “Justice League”, some thoughts that were too nerdy and esoteric for the article.
In terms of positioning “Justice League” as a reconstruction, it’s obvious even looking at the comics from which it draws.
“Batman v. Superman” drew very heavily from two of the biggest “dark age of comics” stories, and hinted at a third.
A lot of the Old Batman Versus Institutionally Challenged Superman stuff comes from Frank Miller’s “The Dark Knight Returns”, which ushered in “the dark age.”
The climax of the film is lifted directly from the mid-nineties event “The Death of Superman”, which involved - you guessed it - the death of Superman and the introduction of Doomsday.
It was the peak of the nineties “darker and edgier” era, and the height of comics speculation.
There’s a solid argument that “The Death of Superman”, in helping codify these sorts of big events and pandering so cravenly to speculators, almost killed the superhero comic.
Plus, you know, killing Superman.
Many fans of the genre consider the nineties a nadir for superheroes. It was a wilderness. There were some great books, but the genre kinda lost its way.
This makes it interesting and pointed that “Batman v. Superman” draws so heavily from it, even carrying over the grimness.
Incidentally, the third big story to which “Batman v. Superman” alludes is “A Death in the Family.”
Inspired by an inference in “The Dark Knight Returns”, DC asked fans to vote on whether Robin would get beaten to death by the Joker.
No surprises which way fans voted.
Part of what’s interesting about this “darker and edgier” trend is the extent to which fans are implicated and complicit in it.
They bought those polybagged collectors’ issues. They voted for the Boy Wonder to die, brutally.
On some level, they wanted it.
So “Batman v. Superman” draws from those comics, and pushes the audience’s discomfort further.
It’s a version of “The Dark Knight Returns” where the audience is aggressively asked why they’re rooting for Batman - why they wanted this.
And then accepting it’s not sustainable.
Which is why it’s interesting that a major influence on “Justice League” is none other than... Grant Morrison.
Morrison took over “Justice League” after the “Death of Superman”, and immediately began a process of reconstruction and repair after a decade of grim turbulence.
Interestingly, Morrison was a big influence on the Snyder films from the start. Jor-El’s big inspirational “this is what Superman should be” speech in “Man of Steel”?
It draws quite heavily from Morrison and Quitely’s “All-Star Superman.”
The biggest influence of Morrison on “Justice League” is the treatment of Darkseid and the New Gods.
In particular, Morrison has had Darkseid invade Earth twice. Once in the second arc of their “Justice League” run and then again in “Final Crisis.”
Indeed, the idea of a dark future where Darkseid has already conquered the planet and the only heroes left are a rag-tag bunch of scrappy underdogs?
That’s Morrison and Porter’s “Rock of Ages”, which feels like a dry run for “Final Crisis.”
Interestingly, this influence is borne out in the rumours of Snyder’s plans for the “Justice League” sequel, in which Lex Luthor would assemble an “Injustice Gang” to defeat the team and lead to a dark future in which Darkseid conquers Earth.
That’s basically “Rock of Ages.”
Anyway, my inner comic book geek, who I don’t feed as much as I should, kinda loves that there’s there’s an expansive nine-and-a-half-hour big screen superhero saga that journeys from Frank Miller’s deconstruction to Grant Morrison’s reconstruction of the classic DC superheroes.
This observation was all a bit too “inside baseball” for an already quite long article on the interesting journey through deconstruction to reconstruction, from “Man of Steel” through to “Justice League.”
Thinking about how Michael Mann’s transition to digital reflected his evolving thematic interests.
Here, two similar types of shot. In “Heat”, on film, the city blurs into a sea of lights in the background. In “Miami Vice”, on digital, objects miles away remain clearly defined.
“Heat” is a pivot point for Mann.
It feels like the last time characters like Hanna or McCauley could truly see one another, when background and foreground could be delineated.
It was the last moment that signal and noise could be distinguished from one another.
Mann returns to the template of “Heat” several times, in “Public Enemies” or “Miami Vice.”
But both of those movies are about the acceleration of what was already a major concern in “Heat”, the way systems and structures and information overwhelm any meaningful human connection.
There were obviously some (very) dumb narrative choices in the final stretch of “Game of Thrones.”
But the truth is that the reality of television production meant that the production team were given the impossible task of ending a story the author himself couldn’t end.
Martin has none of the constraints of a television show.
He has no budget cap. No exhausted production team. No aging child actors. No older actors looking to capitalise on their “moment.” No limited access to sets and location. No deadline.
The “Downey as Doom” casting choice reminds me of Marvel’s “Secret Empire”, the event that revealed Captain America was fascist strongman who led a bunch of not-quite-Nazis.
It was a great idea, particularly for the Trump era. “Here’s your nostalgic fantasy, turned rotten.”
The reveal that this blonde-haired, blue-eyed icon of forties American can-do attitude was secretly an authoritarian strongman had really great potential as a moment of introspection for the comics and the country.
Downey as Doom has the same potential. Nostalgia as villain.
So much of modern pop culture has turned backwards and grown inwards, chasing nostalgic fantasies of some idealised imagined past.
Maybe the MCU needs to kill “Iron Man” to move forward. Maybe the post-9/11 superhero movie needs to be demolished so something new can be built.
Very simply, it is impossible to just casually get into comics.
You have to seek them out. You have to research them. You have to find a specific kind of store that stocks them. And they are very rarely designed to be accessible to new readers.
And for decades, these fundamental issues were treated as features of the medium.
You got ascended fans writing stories for fans, riffing on stories mired in decades of continuity. You aimed the bulk of book as one very specific (and ageing) demographic *already* hooked.
If you want to understand why so much modern franchise media sucks, it’s because this sort of attitude is absurdly common among fans, arguing that putting a character under pressure - you know, “creating drama” - is somehow “abusive” to the actor and “disrespectful” to the fans.
It is so condescending to performers - assuming actors have the same difficulty distinguishing reality and fantasy that seemingly large sections of fandom do.
Also just not understanding how storytelling/production works. Those episodes gave Gatwa time to finish “Sex Education.”
The subtext of this rhetoric is this fan felt challenged and uncomfortable and a little sad at the way “Dot and Bubble” and “Rogue” played out, but it’s better optics to claim they’re angry at how the lead actor was treated.
It becomes a moral criticism, not a personal issue.
Really fascinating to see a lot of superhero fans who hate Alan Moore holding up Grant Morrison as a creator who writes with “shame, malice or false pretence.”
(I love Morrison, to be clear.)
Have you not read any of their work from the past decade and change?
Since around 2011, there’s been a really profound sadness and disillusionment to Morrison’s mainstream superhero work, which is often about the limits that exist within the framework of corporate comics.
They’ve also grappled with something that a lot of comic book fans would to well to even acknowledge: the fact that these characters, treated as moral ideals and exemplars, were the product of exploitation.
Superman is tainted by the exploitation of Siegel and Shuster.