The Evolution of Superhero Movies [Koldcast TV via Screen Rant]

One reason why some people may dread the coming flood of capes-and-fights movies is the fact that so many of them are the same. Almost every superhero movie follows a drab formula, walking us through the good guy's origin story and introducing his (usually his) entire universe. Clueless loser. Gets superpowers. Shirks his destiny. Faces his destiny. Meets super-baddy. Loses. Faces his darkest hour. Fights super-baddy again. Wins. The end. Yay! Or else they're sequels, in which there's less "journey of discovery," and multiple bad guys.

But for superhero films to be a worthy genre, and not just the same movie over and over again with minor variations, they have to start breaking out of the rut. Audiences are familiar enough with superhero lore that they can enjoy a movie that departs from the usual pattern. (And yes, it's all been done in the comics, several times in most cases.) Here are a few great superhero movies (and a couple clunkers) that point the way forward:

Watchmen

Why it broke the mold: Because it honors Alan Moore's cliché-busting graphic novel, Watchmen honors few of the standard superhero tropes. There's no heroic origin story, and the heroes don't get superpowers through some accident. Like Batman, their powers mostly come from the exercise of pure will. Even Dr. Manhattan seems to be held together by willpower. And instead of showing us how a hero comes into his power, Watchmen shows us how Nite Owl regains his power after a long period of impotence (literal and figurative) and Rorschach survives being stripped of his totemic mask and put in prison, and Dr. Manhattan gets through a crisis of confidence. And then all three heroes confront a supervillain who's – if anything – too great a departure from the usual villainous tropes, and they totally fail to overcome him. (Sadly, Silk Spectre's arc is a lot less compelling in the film.) The main way Watchmen is different from Brand X superhero tales, though, is in its moral ambiguity and the way it forces us to admire the Comedian, a psychopathic rapist with almost no lovable qualities. (Except, in the movie, he loves Nat "King" Cole. That's something, I guess.)
Why other films should pay attention: Watchmen didn't detonate the box office, but it could still be influential for decades to come. Five years from now, there'll probably be another movie that borrows Watchmen's savage moral ambiguity and pop-culture profligacy, and it'll score big, and everyone will marvel that such a new spin on the superhero genre could have come out of nowhere.

The Incredibles

Why it broke the mold: The Incredibles dispenses with all the secret-origin stuff right away, and then springboards into a story about a superpowered family that is trying to live a normal life. I'm not the first person to point out the similarities between the Incredibles and Watchmen: they both take place in a world that has made superheroism illegal, and they both feature an aging, sagging former superhero trying to get his game back. But deeper still, they both explore the relationship between superheroes and society – Mr. Incredible has an unwanted would-be sidekick, who has the powers but doesn't have anything else, and that question – of what else, besides superpowers, you need to be a superhero – winds up being a crucial issue in the movie. Plus, the costume-maker woman, Edna Mode, is one of the greatest characters in animated movie history, and deals, once and for all, with the question of how heroes get such cool outfits.
Why other films should pay attention: The Incredibles has real, breathing characters who love each other and mess up and keep going. The character development in the movie feels real, instead of the color-by-numbers "Pass Go, collect $200" personal growth of most superhero flicks.

Mystery Men and The Specials

Why they broke the mold: I have to admit it, I always blend these two movies from 1999 and 2000 in my mind. They're both about misfit, third-string superheroes who can't, or don't, have the fancy corporate sponsorship that the bigger, more powerful heroes have. The main difference is that Mystery Men features our heroes finally saving the day, whereas The Specials shows them becoming reconciled to being nobodies who still have to rescue people from nightmares.
Why other films should pay attention: Like Hancock (see below), these films show that superheroes have a ton of potential for comedy, but also that you can show superheroes who aren't actually super-competent or the greatest ever. These two films also show that the public is familiar enough with superhero stuff now, that you don't have to have your hero (or heroes) be the only superhero(es) in the world. Unlike virtually every big mainstream superhero film, these take place in a world where there are lots of superheroes around, and the public is used to seeing them. Given that in real life, we're all used to seeing tons of superheroes, that seems like a good step.

Unbreakable

Why it broke the mold: Thanks to everyone who suggested this film, from back when M. Night Shyamalan was still unstoppable. I'm one of the few people who didn't love this Bruce Willis-Samuel L. Jackson joint, but I have to admit it does bust out of all superhero norms. For one thing, it's very self-aware about superhero conventions, having Jackson's character comment on them constantly. And it takes the usual "hero creates his own arch-nemesis" trope and turns it on its head, having the villain create the hero instead. And the dynamic between Jackson's messed-up psycho and Bruce Willis' reluctant hero is pretty fascinating.
Why other films should pay attention: Given how much of the superhero story is a cliche nowadays, it's worthwhile to show characters who are aware of that, and even play into it consciously. And since The Dark Knight made $100 squillion dollars, there will be a push towards "dark" movies that play with the codependent relationships between heroes and their arch-villains in a thoughtful way — Unbreakable is a pretty good source for that idea.

The Incredible Hulk

Why it broke the mold: It's technically not a sequel, but it's also not an origin story. The Hulk himself is a very mold-breaking superhero, who's more like a classic monster in many ways except that he fights bad guys and has a kind of "secret identity." Most of all, Edward Norton's Hulk movie comes at the idea of a "hero discovering his powers" in an unusual way — it shows Bruce Banner struggling to avoid embracing his green, powerhouse alter ego, until he finally realizes that the Hulk can do some good in the world.
Why other films should pay attention: If we're going to get lots of movies about good-looking people who keep denying their own power and rejecting their abilities, this film shows us a more interesting way to do it. Little innovations like Bruce Banner learning martial arts so he can defend himself without Hulking out, or using a heart-rate monitor to stay un-Hulky keep the conceit fresh and interesting, and keep him from being just a passive cliche.

DarkMan

Why it broke the mold: You think The Dark Knight was dark and twisted? How about a superhero movie where Harvey Dent is the main hero? Peyton Westlake's skin gets destroyed, but an experimental treatment gives him increased strength and resistance to pain. And then he discovers a method of using artificial skin to disguise himself as other people, and uses it to destroy the people who hurt him — and fight crime! Sam Raimi's first superhero movie still holds up amazingly well today.
Why other films should pay attention: Somebody, eventually, is going to get the rights to do a movie of The Shadow, and they're going to need another role model for the dark, tormented creature of the night. And the idea of melding the angsty superhero with the Phantom Of The Opera shows that you can take two very different archetypes and mash them up, with tremendous success.

My Super Ex-Girlfriend

Why it broke the mold: I would never hold up this Ivan Reitman comedy as a good movie — far from it — but it does feature a different spin on the usual superhero themes. Uma Thurman's character, Jenny aka G-Girl, is a superheroine who's neurotic and insecure and uses her powers to get back at Luke Wilson's Matt after he breaks up with her. Eventually it turns out that G-Girl and her nemesis, Professor Bedlam, are really in love with each other. Superheroic struggles are subjugated to a set of romantic-comedy themes, such as the jealous "wrong" girlfriend, and the couple who secretly dig each other but express it through hatred.
Why other films should pay attention: You could take the ideas of My Super Ex-Girlfriend — including the way Wilson's character gets drawn into helping Professor Bedlam steal away G-Girl's powers, and the idea of a superhero who uses her powers for petty personal revenge — in a terrific movie, if you only had better writing, directing, and everything else.

Hancock:

Why it broke the mold: Hancock was not exactly my favorite movie of 2008, but I still hope it spawns a legion of imitators. (Free advice to Marvel: please make a Hancock-esque movie about Wonder Man, the L.A. stuntman and third-string hero.) As meh as Hancock was, it could spawn a whole new flotilla of non-traditional super-films. Where do we begin? The fact that Hancock's not an origin story is just the tip of the iceberg. There's also the basic fact that he's not a white guy, or young for that matter. And then you have the fact that he's an alcoholic fuck-up, who causes more problems than he solves and inspires more loathing than admiration from the citizenry. Oh, and his main weakness? Is his kinda-sorta girlfriend. (The movie's main problems come from the repetitive jokes that aren't that funny the first time, the lack of a credible antagonist, and the nose-dive it takes in the second half.)
Why other films should pay attention: Hancock proves superheroes can be more than straight arrows, or even typical anti-heroes. They can be barely likable fuck-ups. They can be losers. They can be dipshits. (As long as they're played by a marquee actor.)

During the course of working on this post, we got into a giant debate about which movies even count as superhero movies. Does Tank Girl? Does the original Buffy movie? How much can you break the superhero mold before you're no longer a superhero? To me, what makes something a superhero movie – as opposed to a movie about someone with superpowers – is including some of the hallmarks of superheroism, like the costume or the secret identity, for sure. But more than that – the superhero is someone who has powers that he or she could use to get rich or rule the world. Or in the case of heroes like Batman or most of Watchmen's characters, the superhero simply possesses amazing skills and superhuman willpower. The superhero identity is about domesticating that power, just like any uniform, and turning this potentially scary person into a safe, understandable protector. Just like we trust a cop to carry a gun, baton and handcuffs, becuase the uniform says the cop will play by a set of rules.

So in a sense, any superhero movie that goes beyond the usual tropes is taking the promise of the costumes and superhero identities — that this person will be a "good guy" — to its limit, without leaving the tropes behind completely. If you leave behind the tropes completely, then it's not a superhero movie, just a film about people with paranormal abilities. In any case, here's hoping we get some more superhero flicks that stretch the boundaries of the genre in the way comics writers have been doing for years.

What superhero movies do you think broke the mold, or at least dented it?

Fox, which is making some Marvel Comics movies including next year's Wolverine, has a few other projects on the slate. One possibility is Young X-Men, a movie following the main X-Men characters as teenagers studying at Professor Xavier's school — similar to the X-Men: First Class comic or the animated X-Men: Evolution. (Which would be cool, but couldn't include Wolverine, thus possibly halving its commercial potential.)

Another possibility is a solo film for Deadpool, the wisecracking deformed mutant mercenary played by Ryan Reynolds in the Wolverine

And a third possiblity would be a "reboot" of Daredevil, who only just had a movie starring Ben Affleck five years ago. Given how well that worked out with the Hulk, I'm not sure if people are really clamoring for a reinvention of the blind lawyer who's sort of like Batman but not quite.

Meanwhile, what's up with Wonder Woman? Talking to io9 contributor Nisha Gopalan over at MTV, producer Leonard Goldberg hinted that the Wachowskis might still be interested in working on a Wonder Woman film. At one point, the Matrix auteurs had been working on a WW picture at one point, but then they got diverted to another project. But they could still come back to the Amazon Princess with their own take on her story.

Meanwhile, writers Matthew Jennison and Matt Strickland are retooling their WW spec script, which Goldberg and Joel Silver bought a few years ago. It takes place during World War II, and Goldberg wouldn't go into specifics about what needed tweaking. He did say that he doesn't want to spend too much time on the same old story of Col. Steve Trevor crashing onto Paradise Island and almost getting executed, since it's been done to death. If it appears at all, it'll be in "an abbreviated fashion." Also, Goldberg says he doesn't want to see Wonder Woman too "sexed up," since she's an icon, and she's not meant to be Catwoman.

(And yes, we know Wonder Woman isn't really scifi, except when she's traveling into outer space, wielding the purple death ray, flying in her invisible jet, or joining a crew of aliens and scifi characters in the Justice League.)

[MTV

Gawker Media polls require Javascript; if you're viewing this in an RSS reader, click through to view in your Javascript-enabled web browser.

9. Decompression. This term refers to a more "cinematic" style in comics, in which the "lens" lingers over every moment of a scene, and the action is slowed down. There are more splash pages, or single-page panels. And a sequence which might have taken half a page in the 1960s will take half an issue. Comics' fad for "decompression" in comics coincided with the first blush of superhero movie popularity in the early noughties, and it's best understood as an attempt to copy the experience of watching a movie. Comics Should Be Good criticized this trend in 2005, and held up this page from Warren Ellis' Ocean #1 as an example: Yes it's an entire page of a guy walking out of a building and dropping a coffee cup, which dissolves. The "decompression" boom seems to be more or less over, although most comics are still slower paced than they would have been even 15 years ago.

8. Better, and fewer, costumes. Superhero movies are often loathe to cover up the faces of A-list actors, so masks tend to go out the window. You could get righteously sloshed if you drank to every occasion where Peter Parker loses his mask in Spider-Man 2. And many superhero movies avoid the gaudy spandex in general — most notably the X-Men movies, which influenced the comics to move over to the more dignified black leather uniforms... for a few years, at least. On television, Heroes chose to explore superheroic themes without any costumes at all, and it's becoming more common to see heroes in their civvies for long stretches in comics as well.

7. More Hollywood writers.
Comic book writers used to be their own breed, many of whom had started out as assistant editors at the big comic-book publishers before "graduating" to writing. But these days, you're just as likely to see a revolving door between Hollywood and comics, with writers like Jeph Loeb, James Robinson and Brian K. Vaughn working in both comics and TV/movies. And more slumming Hollywood writers, starting with comics buff Kevin Smith, have ventured into writing comics in their spare time — which has led to horrendous delays between issues.

6. Back to basics. If you liked Sam Raimi's Spider-Man movie, and you wanted to read comics about that character, you might pick up a Spider-Man comic — only to read about a married high-school teacher who's some kind of mystical spider-totem and wears exo-armor. And goes around saying things like, "I AM THE SPIDER!!". (First J.M. DeMatteis, then J.M. Straczynski, explored the "spiritual"/mystical side of Spider-Man, adding a lot of baggage.) So Marvel started putting out Ultimate Spider-Man and other Ultimate titles, which retell the origins of their classic heroes. And as writer Mark Millar has pointed out, the Ultimate version of Tony Stark ended up being a huge influence on the new Iron Man movie. And of course, every now and then there's a huge effort to go back to basics in regular continuity, like in Spider-Man's "One More Day" storyline — which erased Spidey's marriage, his exo-skeleton, his unmasking and a ton of other baggage.

5. Reconstruction. In the 1980s, the watchword in comics was "deconstruction," meaning that writers like Alan Moore, Grant Morrison and Frank Miller were dismantling comics characters and critiquing them through works like Watchmen. In the 1990s, there was a wave of nostalgia and comics creators paid tribute to the innocence classic comics — which Moore creating the "1963" series of comics that were supposed to look like they'd been published in 1963, and later the "America's Best" comics. But it wasn't until superhero movies started to take off that the trend of "reconstruction" went mainstream, and superhero comics made a concerted effort to build up their heroic characters instead of taking them apart. Take Batman, whose spine got smushed in the early 1990s and then spent the rest of the decade mired in angst and self-doubt. Grant Morrison and other writers swung the pendulum the opposite way and started turning him into an almost infallible (well, except for that "Brother Eye" business) Nietzschean demigod.

4. The movie pitch in graphic novel form. This is one way that the rise of comic-book movies didn't necessarily make comics better — comics publishers put out a lot of graphic novels that were obviously only aimed at generating new characters and ideas that could result in a movie deal. In the worst cases, the graphic novels in question didn't have much to say besides, "Here's a cool concept and some kick-ass characters. Can't you just see Brad Pitt playing this guy?"

3. (Somewhat) more realistic art. In the 1990s, the trends in "mainstream" comics art were running away from realism as fast as possible. Hot artists included Rob Liefeld, who could not draw the human body if you put a gun to his head, and Todd McFarlane, whose art got more and more scratchy and gothic. There was also a huge trend towards cartoony Manga-influenced artists like Humberto Ramos, whose work lacked the expressiveness and detail of real Manga art, and was often just confusing to look at. In the noughties, as superhero movies have exploded, a more photorealistic art style has taken hold in superhero comics. This hasn't always been a good thing, as artists like Greg Horn apparently take photos from porn magazines and trace over them to create female characters. But it's an improvement over the bug-in-a-shitstorm art styles of the 1990s.

2. Every time, it's personal. One of the defining characteristics of superhero movies is that they take place in a small world. The villain of a superhero movie is usually someone the hero knows personally. Often, the villain plays a part in the hero's origin — think Batman Begins, where ubervillain Ra's Al Ghul trains Batman to be a super-ninja. This trend has carried over to superhero comics, where newer villains are more likely to have a personal issue with the hero. Like new-ish Bat-villain Hush, who turned out to be a childhood friend of Bruce Wayne's.

1. Villain stew. In superhero comics of the 1990s and earlier, each storyline would usually feature one villain at a time. Sometimes villains would team up, and they would have to come up with a cool name for their joint venture. Like the Sinister Six. Or the Superman Revenge Squad. Villains couldn't just have an ad-hoc team-up. And you would seldom have villains just randomly running around in the same storyline, each with their own agendas. But movies, starting with Batman Returns, regularly featured two or more villains per movie, just on a "more is better" theory. And comics started to follow suit, until every Daredevil villain, from the Owl to the Kingpin, would put in an appearance in the same story arc. Instead of getting defeated and then disappearing for a few months, the villains just hang around and keep getting in each other's hair.

Sky High (Disney). Comic books already gave us a high-school for superheroes (P.S. 238), but did it have Kurt Russell as a famous superhero and father to the next generation of heroes? I didn't think so. Plus Lynda Carter is the school's principal. The business about the school separating kids into Heroes and Sidekicks is a bit too comic book-y, in some ways. But it's a cute romp, despite the fact that the main character's superpowers suddenly manifest themselves at the most convenient moment.

Meteor Man (Not Disney). we already assassinated this one recently. I loved Robert Townsend's Hollywood Shuffle, and really wanted this movie to be amazing. It actually had its good moments, but dissolved into incoherence and luke-warm gags. Townsend plays Jefferson Reed, a school teacher who finds a piece of meteorite that gives him superpowers, and uses it to confront gangs in his inner-city neighborhood.

The Incredibles (Disney/Pixar). Yes, I know you're going to say this movie is a rip-off of the Fantastic Four. But it's actually just different enough to have its own identity — nobody would confuse Mr. Incredible's big-lunk persona with Mr. Fantastic's brainy gumby schtick. And this is a textbook case for why superhero movies can be better without a direct comic-book source. The Pixar crew are free to create their own backstory for the Incredibles, including an anti-hero law and a special superhero tailor. it doesn't have to try and shoehorn in Doctor Doom, the Negative Zone, or any of the other trappings of the FF.

Darkman (Not Disney). Supposedly Sam Raimi wanted to do a movie starring Batman or The Shadow, but couldn't get the rights. So instead he created his own hero, a scientist who gets disfigured in an attack by mobsters, then gains the ability to disguise himself as anyone thanks to a new synthetic skin. An incredible cast, including Liam Neeson and Frances McDormand, helps elevate this movie above the usual superhero fare, and it's easily as good as Raimi's first two Spider-Man movies. (And much, much better than the third one.)

Unbreakable (Disney's Touchstone Pictures). I harshed on M. Night Shyamalan yesterday, but this one actually isn't bad. It's sort of a meditation on how a comic-book villain (Samuel L. Jackson, with his wackiest hair yet) actually creates his own superhero (Bruce Willis). Given that many movies and comics now revolve around the idea of superheroes like Batman creating villains like the Joker, it's refreshing to see it the other way around.

Underdog (Disney). A movie based on the 1970s cartoon series about a superpowered dog who comes here to save the day. A failed police dog gets experimented on, and develops amazing superpowers. Then he gets adopted and renamed Shoeshine, but secretly sneaks out to fight crime on the side.

Greatest American Hero (Disney). Another movie based on a TV show, this time the live-action show about a schoolteacher (again) who finds a costume that gives him amazing powers — but he doesn't have the instruction manual for how to use them. Luckily, he does have a cranky FBI agent snarking at him. Why is that lucky? Actually, I'm not sure. The movie starts filming in July, and it features a new villain, another schoolteacher who gets his own superpowered costume from aliens who want to exploit the Earth.

The Green Hornet (Not Disney). Originally a radio serial about a Batman-esque rich guy who runs a crusading newspaper and fights crime at night in a mask, with his Korean chauffeur Kato, the Green Hornet became a series of movies in the 1940s. And in the 1960s, it was a short-lived TV series that included Bruce Lee as Kato. And now it's going to be a movie again, supposedly starring Seth (Knocked Up) Rogen. Somehow Rogen beat out George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg for the lead role (or, more likely, they turned it down.) I'm imagining with Rogen in the lead role, it's not going to be a dead serious rendering of the Hornet's story.

Blankman (Not Disney). Another blaxploitation superhero spoof, this time starring Damon Wayans as a genius inventor who learns to make clothes bulletproof and becomes the lowest-budget superhero ever, Blankman. David Allen Grier stars as the friend, who's skeptical but winds up becoming Blankman's sidekick, Other Guy.

Black Scorpion (Not Disney). On the heels of Tim Burton's slightly less campy reinvention of Batman, Roger Corman decided to bring back the camp with Black Scorpion, his story of a policewoman (Joan Severance) who can't find justice. So she straps on a shiny black rubber bustier and a black fetishy mask and prowls the streets in her high-powered car. The original film includes a character named Tender Lovin', which is really all you need to know. (Actually the Corman connection might be all you need to know.) The film earned a sequel, Black Scorpion II: Aftershock, and a short-lived TV series on, wait for it... the Sci Fi Channel. Slogan: Justice has a nasty sting.

The Specials (Not Disney). I actually meant to include this one originally, but couldn't remember the title and had a hard time finding it online. Thanks to Whitworthian for reminding me of its name. The Specials deals with a group of misfit third-string superheroes on their day off, leading their dysfunctional lives and horrifying their newest member, Nightbird. One of the few superhero comedies that doesn't go for the super-broad humor and stereotypes, unlike...

My Super Ex-Girlfriend (Not Disney). I forgot to include this one originally, maybe just because I was repressing it. I did blog about it a while ago. Luke Wilson dumps Uma Thurman's superhero, G-Girl, and she goes on a vengeful rampage. So he sells her out to a supervillain, Professor Bedlam, and nearly destroys the world in the process. Blah.

Orgazmo (Definitely Not Disney). Another classic I somehow overlooked, even though it's one of my favorite movies. (Thanks, tralu!) Orgazmo is a porno superhero whose schtick is that he can cause people to climax with his raygun. But when he decides to fight back against his sleazy producer, he discovers he can wield the power of Orgazmo for real.