Confessions of a Superhero

The film industry is obsessed with superhero extravaganzas. I can’t remember the last summer a comic book movie wasn’t in multiplexes – maybe 2001 before the “original” 2002 Spider-Man came out? I’m not sure. The characters in Confessions of a Superhero could probably tell me, though I’m not sure I’d ever ask.

Once upon a time, Mann’s Chinese Theatre, a popular tourist attraction in L.A., was swarmed with essentially glorified panhandlers dressed as famous film (mostly comic-book) characters. Eventually they were banned from the area, never allowed to come back again. Confessions of a Superhero is a snapshot of that bygone era, and is both an elegy to, and a justification of, the removal of superheroes from the streets.

Following Superman, Wonder Woman, The Incredible Hulk, and Batman (or their alter egos: former meth addict, dissatisfied small town prom queen, good-hearted transient, and self-professed former mob hit man, respectively) the film documents their every move as they get their photos taken with strangers, ask for tips, and dream about “getting discovered” to star in real Hollywood films. It’s immensely watchable.

There’s no better place than L.A. to unravel the seedy side of the American Dream. The desperate individuals who dress up in costume aren’t doing it as a career (save Superman, who loves his “profession”) – they view it as a stepping stone for their acting ambitions. Dress as a superhero on the street and stand around in sweltering heat, then become a famous actor. Sounds about right. And it’s almost true – Hulk gets a bit role on a Hollywood movie, Wonder Woman has since played small parts in television shows, and Superman claims to be descended from Hollywood royalty (disputed by the filmmaker’s and Superman’s alleged mother’s family) – yet their dreams of stardom remain just outside their grasp. They live on Tinseltown dreams but only receive fool’s gold.

Confessions of a Superhero is an indelible portrait of dreamers, weirdos, dissatisfaction, and delusions of grandeur. When Superman says that his comic book collection is worth a million dollars you really feel for the guy. He never stood a chance. Though that may be because of the meth.

Grade: B+

The Dark Knight Rises

It’s been a long eight years for Bruce Wayne.

Setting aside the cape and cowl after the events of The Dark Knight, Bruce holes himself up in his mansion like a Howard Hughes recluse – complete with dishevelled appearance, patchy facial hair and questionable hygiene. Peacetime, while it may have been good for Gotham, has not been good for its hero. Funny that the only thing to bring Bruce out of his stupor is not his city, but a new threat: a mysterious terrorist known as Bane.

That’s about the end of my plot synopsis – to mention it otherwise reeks of redundancy, and there are many other (more well-written) reviews that can do a much better job of explaining it.

I think this was probably the weakest of Nolan’s Batman trilogy. It doesn’t help that it came after The Dark Knight, which is arguably the perfect blockbuster for its adept balancing of pathos, spectacle, storyline, and intelligence – with the most charismatic screen villain in recent memory as a cherry on top. That being said, this is by no means a bad film. It’s actually quite good in fact – it’s just overshadowed by the brilliance of its predecessors.

What’s disappointing about The Dark Knight Rises is that it revisits the League of the Shadows – the villainous cabal from Batman Begins – villains that were more of an afterthought in the first film than an entire concept to build the trilogy around. What I mean by that is the first film used the League of Shadows as a stepping stone for Bruce Wayne to develop the skills needed to become Batman, and once that transformation was complete, they weren’t necessary anymore – thus their defeat in the first film. The Dark Knight had different ambitions – neglecting to mention the League of Shadows (at least to my recollection) and allowing the central villain of that film – the Joker – to survive for a sequel. The Joker was a villain to build the franchise around, the League of Shadows merely a placeholder for better things – but real life tragedy hampered the trilogy going in that direction.

Rises also suffers from unfocused storytelling, an overly complicated plot to destroy Gotham, and too many characters and comic references shoehorned into its bloated running time. But after watching this, I realized that any criticisms of the film are minor irritants – this may not be the perfect blockbuster, but this is the type of blockbuster audiences deserve. Nolan and co. may have overreached with this film, which lacks the consistency of the other two, but it’s still a satisfying and worthy conclusion to one of the best trilogys – blockbuster, superhero, or otherwise – to hit theatres. Summer movies don’t have to be dumb – and the success of Nolan’s Batman series proves that audiences aren’t dumb either. And that counts for something.

Grade: B+