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.”
What’s really great - and what I kinda love about Belinda already - is that she really sets the Doctor up for that, by playing along for a line or two before dropping the anvil.
The Doctor absolutely 100% believes he has her charmed, and so walks smack bang into it.
I like the contrast between Fifteen’s bubbly happy personality and the way Belinda punctures it. She knows full well she’s a rebound, and not even for Ruby, but for Sasha.
The Doctor absolutely has “a playbook” for this sort of (platonic) seduction, and she spots it a mile out.
This makes sense. The one thing we know about Belinda’s past is that she had a longterm relationship with a controlling man who tried to dictate her life and was revealed to have something of a god complex.
The Fifteenth Doctor may not be as different as he’d like to think.
It’s honestly very fun and playful that “The Robot Revolution” opens with the revelation that Belinda is secret royalty.
It feels like Davies playing with the relationship between #DoctorWho and Disney+. Is Belinda a Disney Princess?
There is something appealing in Davies using that Disney+ money to construct a world that owes quite a lot to the mid-century science-fiction that inspired Lucas.
Rebels, robots, retro-futurism, even some of the advisors look like Jedi.
Crashing #DoctorWho into “Star Wars.”
There is also something endearing in Davies’ choice to throw the first ever TARDIS team of colour into conflict with a retrofuturist dystopia, built from recycled imagery that initially appears to be the product of AI, but is revealed to be a world built by a “Rabid Puppy” voter.
I'm probably going to regret posting that, because people always have sane and level-headed responses about Superman.
And people are inevitably going to point to, say, Tyler Hoechlin's Superman or whatever, and say he explored the loss of faith in American exceptionalism.
But the thing about Cavill's Superman is that he exists in a world where it honestly feels like America has lost faith in the idea that it is a fundamentally good or decent nation.
Hell, the President of the United States in 2017-2020 and 2025-2028 ran as a heel. As a villain.
“Joy to the World” was far from perfect, but it was refreshing to see a television show deal both directly and allegorically with the scars left by the global pandemic.
It both justifies Moffat’s old tropes (“the man who stayed for Christmas”) and feels genuine and sincere.
It is probably worth noting that Moffat’s mother passed away in hospital after a long illness during production of the tenth season, just a few years before COVID.
So Joy’s frustration about not being able to visit her mother in hospital feel very well observed.
(As somebody whose siblings worked the COVID ward, and who had an elderly relative in hospital during the height of the restrictions on visiting, that detail rang particularly true.
But also, you know, the Doctor being locked down in a hotel. Like my brother was in Australia.)
Rewatching “Twin Peaks: The Return”, and it feels like a show about the collapse of any sense of connection or continuity in contemporary American life.
This is true even in the show’s structure: “Twin Peaks” is no longer an ensemble, but a series of disconnected vignettes.
This is baked into the nature of the show. “Twin Peaks” aired on ABC. It dominated the cultural conversation. It was a phenomenon, a shared experience.
“The Return” aired on Showtime, on cable. It was arguably most successful on streaming. It felt like a show watched alone.
“The Return” is a story about these disconnected and dying spaces, the eroding heart of America.
The vast, empty, abandoned suburban housing estates. The eerie prison complexes. The eponymous town, which feels less like a community than a geographical happenstance.
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.