Because it’s The Dark Knight Rises week, I wanted to flag this post by Jim Emerson on the facileness of “Good v. Evil” as a superhero movie theme. He writes:

What I really want to talk about here are how some superhero movies develop their themes. “The Amazing Spider-Man” touches on the issue of vigilantism, but only superficially — certainly not as seriously as in either Tim Burton’s or Christopher Nolan’s Batman movies. The psychology of the (anti-)hero is usually interesting — and Peter finds himself repeating patterns of denial and abandonment he’s suffered at the hands of his own father and Dr. Connors. What drives someone to put on a unitard and try to catch criminals? That’s always an underlying question. Tony Stark puts on a whole metal suit in an effort to atone for his military-industrial sins.

What’s not a theme is a simplistic formulation of “good vs. evil,” although I see critics, fans, pundits and filmmakers announcing it as if it were supposed to mean something all the time. It might be a simple math problem, or a wrestling match (ask Rev. Harry Powell about Love vs. Hate), but it’s not a theme. Good and evil exist only in the human heart and mind and cannot be artificially separated — one always contains the seeds of the other. I’d argue that the idea that the world can be broken into such categories is, perhaps, essential to the very definition of evil itself, which is at least more provocative than pretending that it’s so easy to tell one from the other. It’s not always so clear-cut. And it makes for lame drama, because if the choice is clear, nothing is at stake. The Big Lie about the Holocaust, to use the most extreme popular example of the 20th century, is that it was perpetrated by people whose only motivation was to “do evil.” I see that as a form of Holocaust denial, an abdication of responsibility and a refusal to deal with the realities of human nature.

I think this is exactly right and deeply important, and it gets at one of the things that frustrates me so much about so many superhero movies. Cheering for someone who we are told is a hero, even if we have no idea what they stand for and what they stand against, feels good, but it’s ultimately a distraction, an experience that produces the feeling that we stand together with the people cheering alongside us in the theater even if we understand ourselves to be championing totally different things. What does Spider-Man, in his latest iteration, stand for? The idea that the police are an institution limited by both resources and perspective whose work should by the work of vigilantes, even if their agendas compete? What do The Avengers stand for? The idea that the world should not be blown up by fanatics and also that Nick Fury is better-equipped to make decisions than the council that oversees him, which has total screen-time amounting to less than the shortest fight scene in the movie? Good v. evil is a convenient distraction from having to talk about actual issues, like civilian control of superpowers as a stand-in for the military, or the impact of corporate influence on the scientific process, on which people in the audience might actually disagree. If the thing on which we can reach consensus is that it would be better not to be involuntarily turned into giant lizard-beasts and/or devoured and conquered by them, that is a pretty low baseline from which to start.

The only people The Amazing Spider-Man is remotely necessary to is Columbia Pictures, which decided to reboot the franchise shortly after Tobey Maguire finished up his run in the webslinger’s unitard in order to hold on to its rights to the character. It’s a by-the-numbers execution of the formula that worked so well in the prior trilogy, from Spider-Man’s skills as an exaggeration of the physical changes of adolescence, to the luminous, leggy girlfriend, to the scientist who falls too deeply in love with his creation who’s restored to himself by Spider-Man’s intervention. As formulas go, though, this is a pleasant one, and The Amazing Spider-Man is a charming, good-looking way to spend an afternoon, particularly give the chemistry between its co-stars, Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker, and Emma Stone as Gwen Stacy, and a typically fun performance by Dennis Leary as NYPD Chief George Stacy.

The Amazing Spider-Man’s innovation is to give the absence of Peter Parker’s parents some context: after a break-in at the Parker family home, his parents deposit young Peter with his Uncle Ben (Martin Sheen) and Aunt Mae (Sally Field) and never return. Peter learns nothing about his family until years later when he discovers his father’s briefcase in the family’s flooding basement, and finds notes on a scientific project tucked in a secret project in the lining, which eventually lead him to his father’s former collaborator, Dr. Curt Connors (Rhys Ifans). Ifans, who lost his right arm, presumably to one of the reptiles he studies, has been investigating the possibility of crossing human and animal genes: he dreams of “a world without weakness.” Peter seeks him out with disastrous consequences: his father’s notes help Connors perfect his formula, and under pressure to prove the project is viable because his company’s founder, Norman Osborn, is gravely ill, experiments on himself, and becomes a giant, clawed lizard-man in the process.

For all this is a repetition of previous Spider-Man iterations, it’s still an interesting variation from other superhero movies. Batman fights ideological absolutists, the X-Men debate differing approaches to the same problems, intensified by the fact that the disputants are the best of enemies, and the Avengers wrangle gods. Spider-Man’s opponents are good men with big dreams who become intoxicated by the things their mistakes turn them into. Connors was clearly a hugely accomplished scientist even with one arm, but with not just two working arms, but superhuman strength, his fantasy of a world without outcasts turns into a dream of transcending humanity altogether—and forcing everyone else to come along with him, permanently. It’s never quite clear what these movies are trying to say about science other than that hubris and need can be dangerous things, though here there’s a whiff of criticism for companies that pressure scientists to bypass proper trials. Normally such imprudence just kills people, but here, the consequences are more dire—but the movie cuts away before OsCorp itself experiences any of them.
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No matter how much I think the Spider-Man reboot is utterly unnecessary, I have to admit it looks like a lot of fun:

A couple of thoughts: I’m relieved that the movie is acknowledging that someone other than the scientific community, riders of random subway cars, and J. Jonah Jameson notice that a dude in a funny suit is messing with the city’s criminals. It makes sense that an escalation of tensions in the underworld that leads to massive property damage and physical fights would pop up on the NYPD’s radar and that they’d have an interest in what’s going down. Dennis Leary is great as a cantankerous, drunk, or otherwise difficult representative of city government (he is the best part of The Thomas Crown Affair remake), and he’s got the perfect mein to pull off a portrayal of a man who is personally and professionally deeply irritated by Spider-Man. If the Powers adaptation ends up not happening, at least we’ll have something.

Second, the Gwen Stacy storyline in the Spider-Man universe is awesome and heartbreaking. And if this iteration of the franchise wants to honestly grapple with superheroic hubris and the limitations of superpowers when the go up against the laws of physics and the odds, it would be wonderful if they followed that original template. Being a teenager—as well as being a depressed middle-aged billionaire—is a dark thing. And I don’t mean in a getting-infected-with-venom-and-going-to-jazz-clubs kind of way. It’d be nice to see a movie franchise that recognizes that not everyone makes it out of that period okay, and that having superpowers may increase the kinds of risks you can take, but it doesn’t mean you’re utterly protected.

This is a standard, but silly, argument from Big Hollywood about how the entertainment industry hates the troops:

But patriotism doesn’t sell, right? If it did, Hollywood would be inundating movie theaters with pro-troop films and other tales of American soldiers in heroic action.
“Red Tails” also slices into another depressing Hollywood meme…An even better patriotism test comes next month when “Act of Valor,” a film which boldly toasts American soldiers as heroes, hits theaters. A “Valor” take down of the film competition may open the floodgates for more pro-troop features, assuming the appropriate bean counters are taking notes. Or, will Hollywood executives ignore the numbers and retreat to projects depicting U.S. soldiers in unflattering light? Is there a better chance we’ll see a new installment of “In the Valley of Elah” or “Redacted,” films showing the darker side of the modern soldier, than a “Red Tails” sequel?

I don’t want to spend time explaining why patriotism and unqualified support for the members and actions of the armed forces no matter what they do aren’t the same thing, because I think it’s obvious to everyone here and everyone reasonable why that’s the case. But I think there’s something fundamentally silly about the idea that Hollywood is unaware of the fact that patriotism sells.

In the last 10 years, the following movies with patriotic themes were among the top-10 grossing movies of the year. Last year, one of the top-selling superheroes of the year was Captain America, up there with Pixar’s most middle-American offering, Cars 2. In 2010, Iron Man 2 kept stumbling drunkenly towards public service. 2009 was ruled by Michael Bay’s military Valentine, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, along with the paen to charity and football as mainstreaming experiences, The Blind Side. In 2008, Tony Stark discovered service of country instead of himself in Iron Man. In 2007, Spider-Man 3, the latest installment about the webslinger who became a representative of post-9/11 New York, topped the box office list; the uber-pro-military franchise Transformers made its bow; Jason Bourne kept the idea of an intelligence community with integrity alive in The Bourne Ultimatum; and Will Smith saved human society in I Am Legend. The previous year, Clark Kent resurfaced to keep an eye on Metropolis in Superman Returns, and Hollywood affirmed a kinder, gentler American consumerism in Talladega Nights. 2005 had less obvious themes, though America obviously beats the Martians in War of the Worlds. 2004 reinforced Spider-Man’s ties to New York in that incredible subway scene. 2002 had Spider-Man topping the charts again, a celebration of the immigrant experience in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and more Americans v. the Aliens in Men in Black 2. 2001 was the last year a World War II movie cleaned up at the box office, but no one could accuse Pearl Harbor of being anything less than a big, old-fashioned patriotic weepie.

Even by the standards of military-worshipping conservatism, Hollywood is deeply committed to making movies that both reflect and make bank off that particular strand of patriotism. And if you’re thoughtful enough to have a broader understanding of love and country, there’s even more out there for you.

I like Charlie Jane’s post at io9 on how to avoid the too-many-supervillains problem, but I want to offer a slight variation on two of her proposals for how to solve it. She suggests:

It’s not the number of villains, it’s the number of stories. There’s a limit to how many subplots your average movie can contain, especially subplots which are about the villains of the movie. In the end, the antagonists of the movie have to tie into the main storyline, and there has to be one of those. So if there’s more than one villain, the villains still have to work together as part of the central story, thematically and from a plot standpoint. The Dark Knight does this brilliantly, by making the Joker’s effect on Harvey Dent a central part of the film’s arc…

Each villain is a different lesson. This is another way to go — it’s a bit of a cliche to say your enemies are your best teachers, but it’s still definitely true. And if you’re going to go having more than one villain in a film, then each villain ought to be teaching a different lesson — or at least, a different version of the main lesson. Maybe there are different weaknesses that each villain plays on — or different wrong-headed ideas on the hero’s part that each villain represents.

I’d suggest more specifically that it’s a matter of figuring out what the core issue in a movie is. Spider-Man 3 is exploring two totally divergent issues: the question of whether power’s made Peter Parker a jerk, and the issue of whether his narrative of his origin story is true. These are both full-sized stories that could interlock, but aren’t made to, and as a result, the movie feels squashed. Thor, by contrast, is a movie about one issue, the responsible use of power, but the multiple obstacles Thor faces are all ways to explore that issue. The Dark Knight is about the failure of institutions and norms, all of which are tested in different ways by the Joker, the police department in Gotham, and ultimately even Batman himself. The X-Men movies, which use huge teams to explore the notion of citizenship, have always understood this incredibly well: every character on both sides represents a facet of that ancient argument between assimilation and separatism. The point being: pick your issue first, and the best villain or villains to explore it second. And as a side note, I’d really like to see some superhero movies from the villain’s perspective.

Quick programming note: our Deadwood discussions are going to switch to Tuesdays and Thursdays so we don’t get recap-overloaded on Mondays and Fridays. Otherwise, the bridge is, as always for these posts, yours.

-The charter school lottery process is going to be part of the new Spider-Man comics.

-Is Gloria Steinem just a professional hater now? (Glad she can at least find it in herself to like Lady Gaga.)

-So glad Aziz Ansari rescued himself from business school with comedy.

-It’s not very nice of the Avengers to destroy Cleveland. Cleveland has enough problems!

-This is why ladies can’t have nice things.

Joe Quesada, the Marvel Comics Chief Creative Officer, says that the creation of Miles Morales, the new mixed-race Ultimate Universe Spider-Man, was informed by debates over education reform:

Miles was starting to take shape. We discussed his family and upbringing at length and slowly you could see how he was becoming his own person and not just a copy of Peter. Now while I don’t want to give too much away, over the years I’ve been really intrigued by the revolutionary work being done by educator Geoffrey Canada, and as we looked deeper into Miles’ character, I suggested to Brian that he watch the documentary, “Waiting For Superman” (ironic, I know!). Bri loved it, and the wheels started turning. Pretty soon he was building a world and cast that would support Miles in some fantastically intriguing ways that were relatable but also different from Peter Parker’s world. I have a sneaky suspicion that Brian is going to make people fall in love with Miles very quickly.

Obviously I can’t pass judgment on how those themes play out until I see it happen, though it would be pretty weird to see a comic book where Morales fights a teachers’ union that’s secretly entirely made up of Skrulls or something. But no matter how it turns out, I’m glad to see this kind of thinking be part of the comic book process. Assuming that getting bitten by radioactive spiders doesn’t induce amnesia, there are factors in Spider-Man’s past other than Uncle Ben’s dying words that influenced him. And while many superhero stories propel newly-made supermen and women into larger worlds, whether it’s from a gated mansion into the slums of Gotham, or from Westchester County to the Blue Area of the Moon, there’s something to be said for superhero stories that take on problems closer to home. It may take a single bug bite from a very special arachnid to make a hero, but it takes a village to raise all the kids who are only lucky enough to get nipped by mosquitoes.

The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation just named ABC Family the network that does the best job at portraying gay characters — and as portraying them as something other than simply white urbanized men. Apparently, 55 percent of the network’s original programming hours have images of LGBT people, which seems like an impressively high ratio considering the actual number of gay people in the population, though it would be interesting to see also what percentage of their characters are gay, and how many of those programming hours feature gay characters instead of having them in the mix or in the background.

But that’s sort of splitting hairs — ABC Family’s managed to work gay characters into shows as racy as Pretty Little Liars and as conservative as The Secret Life of the American Teenager, and that commitment is an important kind of accomplishment. I write a lot here about the things that adding character diversity to pop culture can bring to stories, but it’s an important second-level realization to understand that there are a lot of kinds of people within a minority grouping like “black” or “gay” or “women.” Pop culture may think to look for gay men, for example, in hair salons, but they also do things like run the Republican National Committee, just as lesbians may attend WNBA games but they also have their own entertainment empires. The presence of gay people, for example, in places culture and stereotype have suggested we shouldn’t expect them says something about the flexibilities and limitations of those organizations and settings as well as about the characters who inhabit them.

The reason someone like Glenn Beck gets verklempt about the possibility of a mixed-race, or as he put it “half-gay,” Spider-Man is not just that folks get weirdly grabby about continuity and crabby about characters who they don’t feel represent their struggles (because, of course, it’s the color of Spider-Man’s skin that makes him unlike white readers, not the ability to eject webs from his body). It’s because fitting black or gay or female heroes smoothly into superhero storylines suggests that the superhero community as a whole are comfortable with people Glenn Beck isn’t comfortable with, that it might not be the place he imagines it to be.

-Adam Serwer on Harry Potter‘s goblins and Jewish stereotypes.

-Karen O is going to write an opera.

-We may be getting crazy amounts of Game of Thrones and America Gods adaptations, but Hollywood apparently draws the line at a multi-platform Dark Tower project.

-I’m always down for Big Idea Sci-Fi.

-The new Spider-Man: same as the old Spider-Man