I
remember as a kid watching reruns of the “Batman” TV show
starring Adam West and Burt Ward as the Caped Crusaders. It was campy
and over-the-top, and the special effects were, well, not very
special and not very effective. But at least we could see our
superheroes brought to life on the television screen.
Later,
Lou Ferrigno donned a lot of green body makeup to help us believe
that Bill Bixby’s Dr. Banner was transforming into the raging,
growling, smashing “Hulk.” A decade and a half after
Batman, the camp was less intentional, the drama was heightened but
not really believable, and Lou Ferrigno was pretty buff compared to
Bixby, but not really hulking by comic book standards. But at least
we could see our superheroes brought to life on the television
screen.
About
the same time, Christopher Reeve made us believe a man could fly when
Superman showed up on the big screen. Special effects were
getting better, yes, but most of it now looks pretty dated, even
silly. But at least we could see our superheroes brought to life on
the silver screen.
And
so it went, and so it goes. A cinematic holy grail, of sorts, for
comic book nerds and special effects geeks, to represent faithfully
and believably on a movie screen what had always been relegated to
the lowly comic book page. On paper, heroes can do anything the
writer and artist can conceive.
For
a dime, or a quarter, or a dollar, or four bucks (depending on when
you grew up), you could embark on a tale of action and adventure
where your imagination worked to fill in the bits between the frames
and make the magic real and believable.
But
translating that magic into movies and TV shows always fell short.
But not now; now you can do anything. Literally anything.
And
the new Avengers film, Avengers: Age of Ultron, is quite full
of anything. Anything super you can imagine has been chucked
into the super soup. For 141 minutes, there is so much super activity
going on that you almost forget that movies live and die by their
story lines, not by their star power or by their incredibly expensive
special effects.
So
you probably think I didn’t like the movie. I liked it fine; I
just want more. Not more special effects. More story, more substance.
For
starters, the plot seemed strangely familiar, like I’d seen it
before. Because I had: In the first Avengers movie. You know,
a horde of alien bug things were swarming into our airspace in an
ultimately futile attempt to eliminate humanity. In the new film,
we’ve replaced the alien bug things with sentient android
things who are, surprise, also intent on wiping out humanity.
We’ve
got some familiar friction between our motley crew of heroes, but, as
is to be expected, they stick together when it matters the most. This
does make for some delightful, bantering dialogue and funny barbs,
which help to break up the endless action scenes. As in never-ending.
I
don’t know when these super folk ever get time to nap or use
the toilet, because everything is in a constant state of chaos and
commotion. Even for the super class, this has to be exhausting.
I
rather enjoyed James Spader’s voicing of Ultron. I realize he
tends to be rather polarizing as an actor, but his oddly syncopated
vocal pacing was slathered in equal parts honey and poison, which has
a similar effect of enjoying being crushed to death by an anaconda.
An
interesting departure from the first movie, and apparently a direct
response to it, as well as (probably) the most recent Superman film,
was the decidedly overt effort to minimize the collateral damage
during their constant, epic battles. Great effort was spent to make
sure we saw how careful they were to preserve human life, as well as
the homes and businesses and property of said humans.
That’s
good, of course, but it was such an obvious contrast from the first
film when they took out several square miles of Manhattan without any
real awareness of the mere mortals who were forever in their line of
fire that it sort of became its own distraction.
There
was also a tender, family-focused moment for Hawkeye, which helped
frame the whole “let’s make sure we don’t forget
about the little people” theme mentioned above. It was sweet,
it was honest, and it was one of the very rare moments where the film
slowed down long enough for us to get our bearings, catch our breath,
and remember why we cared about any of this.
There
were also some genuinely funny moments, my favorite being when all of
the Avengers were at a party taking turns trying to lift Thor’s
hammer. I won’t spoil it, but it’s a great comic moment
that also reveals much about the character of our characters.
So
the movie makers have taken up the long-standing gauntlet and met the
challenge. We have finally made superheroes visually real,
believable, and mesmerizing in their limitless superness. Superhero
movies are no longer shackled by technical difficulties or tiny
budgets or gaping holes in the fabric of suspension of disbelief.
Mission accomplished: it all looks real.
So
now I would like to throw down the gauntlet and challenge the
movie-making wizards behind the curtain to use their powers for good
and not just for making bank. Write stories that hold up on their own
and stop relying on the sheer awesomeness of your special effects
vault to keep us in our seats for a couple of hours.
I
suppose that superhero movies have become sort of the western of
today. In the 1950s, westerns were everywhere, or at least anywhere
they could wrangle up some ponies and some ten-gallon hats.
But,
looking back, most of these oaters are pretty forgettable. Not
because they didn’t have ruggedly handsome cowboys and
beautiful horses, and not because there was any shortage of gunfights
and guys getting shot off of balconies and such. They’re
forgettable by the hundreds because they foolishly followed a
familiar formula and forgot to write a story anyone cared about.
Stagecoach,
High Noon, The Searchers, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Butch
Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. These
movies hold up, decades later, because they told stories people care
about, and not because of their star power or their special
equestrian budgets.
So
take a note, superhero movie makers, before your own genre rides off
into the sunset of forgotten films.
Andy Lindsay can frequently be overheard engaged in conversations that consist entirely of repeating lines of dialogue from movies, a genetic disorder he has passed on to his four children and one which his wife tolerates but rarely understands. When Andy's not watching a movie he's probably talking about a movie or thinking about a movie.
Or, because his family likes to eat on a somewhat regular basis, he just might be working on producing a TV commercial or a documentary or a corporate video or a short film. His production company is Barking Shark Creative, and you can check out his work here www.barkingshark.com.
Andy grew up in Frederick, Maryland, but migrated south to North Carolina where he met his wife, Deborah, who wasn't his wife then but later agreed to take the job. Their children were all born and raised in Greensboro, but are in various stages of growing up and running away.
Andy (or Anziano Lindsay, as he was known then) served a full-time mission for the Church in Italy, and today he teaches Sunday School, works with the Scouts, and is the Stake Video Historian.