Showing posts with label Watchmen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Watchmen. Show all posts

Saturday, 27 July 2013

Man of Steel, Words of Lead

So, suffering the usual parental culture lag we finally got round to seeing Man of Steel last night.
Hmmm.
Let’s start with the prologue on Krypton.  It looks alien in a way which vaguely reminded me of Giger in a way I can’t quite put my finger on – perhaps it’s the spiky, metallic nature of much of the design. The fluid metal communicators, for instance, are things of beauty.  You can see there’s a lot of time and money been lavished on this big opening sequence. It’s a shame that it feels far too long, delaying us from actually getting to the story of Superman himself. With the need to justify the expense of the designs (and probably Russell Crowe’s salary) of the focus of the story is sacrificed right from the start. Much of what this tells could have been done with clever dialogue but no, everything regarding Superman’s background and Zod’s origins is painstakingly shown on screen. The audience is not trusted, not allowed to use any imagination, instead you’re being told to marvel at some pseudo-mythic spectacle with accompanying stilted dialogue. None of the actors are good enough (or directed well enough) to lift the scenes. The deliberate portentousness kills any sense of engagement with what you’re watching and you realise the common sense of Russell T Davies’ decree when running Doctor Who that every story should relate to or jeopardise Earth in some way. There’s just nothing to draw you into the story here, a fatal error symptomatic of the larger problems of the film (those problems being ‘Snyder’, ‘Nolan’, ‘Goyer’ and the combination thereof).
I suspect, given the Comic Con announcement of Batman vs Superman, that Nolan was on board to make sure this Superman was tonally compatible with his Batman. Nolan’s approach to Batman was one which can suit the character as much as say Adam West’s high camp version or Tim Burton’s gothic fantasia does. Batman invites an exploration of what makes someone dress up in a daft costume and fight crime – his origin story introduces a certain psychological complexity into the character.  But as The Dark Knight Rises showed, it’s one which can wear down over a period of time and with a lack of jokes it doesn’t necessarily age well. It’s also completely unsuited to Superman, a character with no real dark side whose motivations have essentially been uncomplicated since the beginning. It’s trying to forcibly introduce a complexity into the character which isn’t naturally there.
Which leads us to the second problem, David S Goyer. Let’s charitably assume that his brief included the necessity of exploring Superman’s psychology. Then let’s uncharitably note that he does that through American art’s most overused trope, the daddy issue. As is the case throughout the film the Earth heritage sequences are well done, mainly thanks to Kevin Costner, one of the few spot on pieces of casting in the film. Costner sells a fairly thankless role in the same way Martin Sheen nailed Uncle Ben in The Amazing Spider-Man and stops you noticing that this actually reduces Superman to the same motivations as every other movie superhero. Costner actually makes them the best part of the film. And I say that as someone who’s never been a fan of Costner.
 Then there are Goyer’s words. It’s terrifying when a big budget Hollywood blockbuster gets made with the following dialogue:
“There’s only one way this ends Kal… either you die or I do”
Read that again. That’s a genuine line of dialogue given to a supposedly intelligent, level headed character. The words ‘only one way’ and ‘either’ are not compatible. The only conclusion I drew is that Goyer doesn’t actually understand what words mean. Also, that Snyder needed to hire a script editor because it’s hard to believe that any remotely competent editor would have let that one through. There might be an argument to say the character in question is psychologically unstable at that point, but it’s so unclear and looks so clunky it would’ve been best avoided. On top of this the characters are constantly given to telling us what to think of them – at one point one of the villains proclaims they have ‘no morality’ – seriously, she might be alien but no morality? There are different types of morality but no-one, perhaps excepting the Marquis de Sade, has ever gone around proclaiming nonsense in that way. And while there are no contrivances as clumsy as the laughable moment in Superman Returns where Lois took her son into the villain’s HQ (seriously, whoever wrote that has no idea of how humans function) there are a few that aren’t far off – for instance, the split ship in the climax simply being a deliberate, expensive and unnecessary delay to the climax of the film which adds nothing to the narrative. It left me thinking that the script needed at least another draft. It’s not all bad though, the notion of Superman’s famous S being a symbol of hope on his home world is the one hint that Goyer might understand Superman. I couldn’t help but feeling the whole film needed another draft to focus it and someone who knows how people talk to write the dialogue.
And so to the final problem. Based on his previous movies I’m not a fan of Zack Snyder at all. Both 300 and Watchmen were overly slavish adaptations which were often visually beautiful and exceptional in reproducing the most striking panels from their respective comics. Leaving aside the fact that I’m not a big fan of Frank Miller and wasn’t inclined to like 300 anyway, I thought the exact reason he was wrong for Watchmen was that he missed everything that made Watchmen the landmark it was. Watchmen essentially asked what the psychology of people who ran round in masks and fought crime would be in real life. Snyder was more interested in the spectacle of Dr Manhattan’s strangeness and Rorschach’s violence on screen Leaving aside that arguably Watchman’s most original trick has been done to death on page and on screen since Snyder’s big weakness is that he’s fabulous as spectacle but bad with people – with Watchmen I felt I was just watching people as moving props in front of some beautiful backdrops. Which isn’t a problem with Dr Manhattan, who’s evolved far beyond us, but is when it comes to convincing us of why Nite Owl and Silk Spectre Junior get it on later in the film. And he has the same problem here. Compounding the faults of Goyer’s script is that everyone involved seems to have been told to play it in approved ‘smell the fart’ style, where everything becomes portentous. It just doesn’t engage, doesn’t let the human element come through and left both my wife and I unengaged and ultimately bored. Snyder’s problem this time extends to spectacle too. With no comic book to draw on he piles on the CGI spectacle to little effect. I’ve already mentioned the pointless second ship that’s just Superman against some CGI metal and achieves nothing but his worst crime is in Metropolis. Zod’s plan inflicts carnage upon the city that dwarfs any terrorist attacks you could conceive. It should be terrifying but it’s essentially CGI wanking. There’s no sense of scale to the destruction, it’s just yet another skyscraper falling over.  There’s no sense of the stakes here, no sense of psychological trauma. And, guess what… all the characters we’ve been introduced to survive and even at the end of the film it seems like a reset button’s been pressed, characters having simply brushed off what’s happened. It needed some acknowledgement.
All these problems come to a head in the film’s climax. As a villain Zod’s been reduced to a humourless psychopath, Michael Shannon having nothing of the presence of Terence Stamp’s original interpretation. We have some grand fight scenes with the characters knocking seven bells out of each other, which is fine and to be expected in a superhero movie. But how does Superman defeat Zod? By outsmarting someone ostensibly his equal? Well no. The planned destruction of Earth is defeated by the self-sacrifice of others and Superman simply breaks Zod’s neck. That’s it. There’s no sense of an epic conclusion, an earned victory. It’s just ‘I’m better in a fight than the other guy’. There’s no real reason to Superman’s triumph but dumb luck. What should be the moment that tells us just why the character’s so great ends up diminishing him, cheating the audience. There’s nothing to tell me why I should be coming back next time to cheer him on. Instead of establishing this version of Superman they achieve the opposite.
Nolan, Goyer and Snyder will apparently all be back for ‘World’s Finest’, the Superman/Batman movie. I never thought I’d say it about a Superman/Batman film but based on this I severely doubt I will be.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1969 - The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Century: 1969 by Alan Moore & Kevin O'Neill

It's always slightly awkward to review middle volumes of a story. Whatever you do it'll be somewhat imperfect - themes and storylines will have emerged but you won't be seeing the full picture by any means. Nevertheless Alan Moore's stated aim with the Century trilogy is for each one to tell a self contained story as well as form part of the overall tale. So it's fair game.

What we get is a story rooted firmly in 1969, the end of the hippy dream. The main elements of the story, aside from those introduced in Century: 1910,are drawn from two contemporary films that indicate the darkness that (by conventional interpretation) crept in at the end of the peace 'n' love hippy era. The first is the 1970 film Performance, which featured Mick Jagger as a dissolute rock star, the second Get Carter. From the moment Moore and O'Neill open with a recreation of the death of Brian Jones it's clear we're going to see a lot more of the League universe's version of the Rolling Stones,the Purple Orchestra. And by that extension one of the main characters is based on Jagger's character in Performance. Except now we're in the minefield of the copyright era it's Terner rather than Turner. It's not the only time a crafty copyright dodging wink is used in the volume either, the rich fictional background that could be freely employed in the volumes up to now largely reduced to almost cameo spotting. I'm still not quite sure as to whether it robs the League of a large degree of its charm. It doesn't bode entirely well for the final volume in the series, particularly when coupled with Moore's murmurings about finding 2009 a barren cultural wasteland. Perhaps the frontier of pop culture of today has simply moved beyond his interests, as it must eventually move beyond us all. Certainly his pronouncments on the state of comics (however valid you find them) indicate a certain degree of alienation from modern fictions.

Moore's discomfort with modern culture is perhaps best reflected in an emergig theme, shown in a division between the two core characters of Allen Quartermain and Mina Harker over their attitude to effective immortality. Mina attempts to embrace the social changes of the era, seemingly not entirely successfully whilst Quartermain remains uncomfortable with change, mired in Victorian values to a degree. Moore is ambivalent about both approaches, showing them as both being ineffective as neither approach really deals with the major problem of living beyond your era. The longer you live, the less you understand of an ever changing world, and that seems to be the real problem at the root of the contrasting approaches. It'll be fascinating to see how that's resolved in the final volume.

As usual though, what makes the story work is the synchronicity between Moore and Kevin O'Neill. Once more there's a wealth of devils in the detail, a blizzard of references salted away in the artwork (including at least three to Doctor Who, something almost certainly pure O'Neill given Moore's oft stated distate for the post-Hartnell Doctors). As ever this means it requires multiple reads to catch the references, and even then you can't be certain of catching everything without recourse to Jess Nevins' ever excellent annotations. It certainly flavours what might otherwise be fairly dull exposition and journey scenes, but as usual he references are an added bonus and not really essential in understanding the tale at hand - maybe it helps to know that the song soundtracking the Hyde Park sequences is based closely on Sympathy for the Devil but that's pretty much it. It's not just the enhancement of Moore's stories with all sorts of detail that distinguishes O'Neill's work though, it's the shifts in style and tone to reflect mood and time that enhances the story here. Indeed, the psychedelic sequences that provide the backdrop for the climactic battle of wills is probably a highlight of O'Neill's work on the series. And I say that as someone who's absolutely adored O'Neill's previous work on the series.

As ever with Moore though, there's an edge to his story I don't particularly like. Sometimes it manifests in extreme violence (as in, say, Watchmen), but more often in a creepy sexual elemen. Here, if you can catch the references to identify Mina's companion in the Hyde Park scenes, then I'd be surprised if that character fingering a tripped out Mina wouldn't have one of the biggest selling authors of the past ten years activating her legal magicians. Certainly, it fits with the souring edge of hippydom that the Orchestra's gig represents (and which the Stones' Hyde Park gig represetned in our universe) and I'm certain such thins happened, but I'm not sure it's entirely necessary to the story.

Century: 1969 certainly ends up functioning as a story in its own right, ending not on a direct cliffhanger but instead in an intriguing position with the shade of Haddo escaping to continue his moonchild/Antichrist plans and Mina missing, possibly dragged off to a madhouse but possibly to another, more nefarious fate. And the final punk song is as ominous as the ending of Century: 1910, foreshadowing nothing but misery. Satisfying then, but as to whether it's the second course of a gourmet meal we'l have to wait another year or so to find out.