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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.