Why the World Needs Superman... by Johnny DiLoretto

Why the World Needs Superman...

I hate when people say they don’t like Superman. It’s like saying you don’t like Elvis. You might as well say you don’t like the first, best idea of something. Every rock and roller who came after Elvis has a part of Elvis in them – they couldn’t exist without Elvis. There are no Beatles without Elvis, no Springsteen, no nobody. Likewise, there are no other superheroes without Superman.

Superman, where superheroes are concerned, was the first best idea. Two guys from Cleveland said, hey, what if there was a dude who could do almost anything? They created Superman. The very next best superhero idea was Batman, who is the exact opposite in that he doesn’t have any powers at all. Every superhero creation thereafter was, is a variation of Superman or Batman.

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But what’s really galling are the people who don’t like Superman because he’s not… dark; because he’s earnest, honest, and pure.

This is the why of Superman.

Superheroes are spurred to action, driven, or compelled by some motivating event or force. Batman is motivated by the murder of his parents and Spiderman is motivated by the murder of his uncle, but Superman – he’s merely an orphan from another planet. Here on Earth, he just happens to be extraordinary. He was raised and loved by two adoptive parents. There’s no vengeance lurking in his character, no deep seated need to set things right.

So, why does Superman do good, why does he save people? You ready for this one? Because he can. He could rule over the Earth, make little puny, chump-ass, Superman-butt wiping slaves out of all of us, but he doesn’t. He’s motivated only by benevolence.  He doesn’t have to lift a superfinger, a finger by the way that could effortlessly flick our heads off, but he does.

And what makes him all the more extraordinary, is that he does this in spite of human beings being total assholes.

When I was a kid there were two moments in the first Christopher Reeve movies that are seared into my brain that I believe formed, partly, who I am today - or, at least, who I'd like to be.

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The first comes in the great scene in which Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane interviews Superman on her balcony. The no-nonsense reporter asks Superman why he’s here, meaning on Earth, and he walks right into it: “to fight for truth, justice, and the American way,” he says. She rudely snickers at this seemingly naive answer. Superman turns suddenly very stern, locks eyes with her, and replies, “Lois, I never lie.”

Boom! Shut your cig hole Lois!

I’ve never forgotten that. And it still holds true today – that the minute you show people some raw earnestness they’ll try to slice you open.

The second moment is in Superman II during his epic battle against General Zod and Zod’s two other fellow Kryptonians, the three of whom all have the same super powers as Superman. It's three against one in the heart of Metropolis (a thinly disguised NYC) but it’s pretty much a stalemate until Zod stumbles upon Superman’s Achilles’ heel, and no, it's not Kryptonite. “I’ve discovered his weakness,” Zod informs his crew. “He actually cares for these… people.” 

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Wow. What a punch to the gut. You can hurt him by hurting people?! Heavy. Again, just because he cares. And, then, in a stunningly dark assessment of human nature, the citizens of Metropolis turn against Superman, calling him a coward when he flees Metropolis to draw Zod away from them. He cares even when he shouldn't.

The Clark Kent / Superman Alter Ego Conundrum

The other thing that gets under my skin is when people say “Who wouldn’t be able to tell that Superman is Clark Kent? He’s only wearing glasses! Blah blah blah, I’m typical blah blah, I don’t think about anything interesting and I have no insight blah blah, I’m a dunce. Blah blah.”

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Clark’s “disguise” really shouldn’t be an issue. It’s not that people can’t  see that Clark is Superman; it’s that they don’t want to see it.  His humility blinds them from it. People don’t want to see greatness in the quiet, unassuming guy sitting next to them at work. In fact, they downright refuse to see it.

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The very fact that people point to the so-called “lameness” of Clark’s disguise only points up their own lameness.

In Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill Vol 2, David Carradine has a great monologue about Superman in which he, and I’m paraphrasing, observes that “Superman’s costume isn’t a costume. Those are his clothes. Clark Kent is his costume. Clark Kent is how Superman sees us.”

I think that’s great, but not entirely accurate. Clark Kent is Superman’s way of showing us who we should be: honest, ethical, good, humble.

That we can’t see that simple truth is our problem. Each of us needs Superman to remind us to be our best possible self, to be good, to do good without the promise of reward, simply for the sake of good, even when it seems like other people don't deserve it. 

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You can learn more about Johnny DiLoretto by visiting our contributors page here.

Superman Vs. Hate Shmuck

I am not a fervent comic book reader, but I am a fervent comic-book-adapted-to-movie lover, and the Christopher Reeve Superman films (the first two) profoundly influenced me as a child and still hold a powerful sway over me as an adult.

That particular actor as that particular character delivering that particular performance adds up to something very special, if not downright moral and moving.

Superman III has some merit, which I’ll get to momentarily but I put Superman IV out of my head faster than the The Godfather Pt. III, despite Sofia Coppola’s stunningly inept death scene, which is arguably as hard to look at as Superman IV’ˆs ornately clad villain.

Nuclear Douche!

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A real-life nuclear douche is Orson Scott Card. This banally goateed white male:  ​

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A bestselling sci-fi author, Scott Card has been hired to pen some new Superman stories; and because he’s virulently anti-gay and proactively anti-gay marriage there has been some flak over his having been chosen to take control of Superman.

There’s an interesting argument going on over this. Let me distill it for you: is it possible for a hateful dick to take a beloved, morally impeccable character and write a tale true to that character? And, moreover, should said hateful dick have ever been given the opportunity?

Rational me says the artist is separate from the art and the art exists as its own entity with its own unique merits. (This is how I justify still loving Woody Allen movies despite his banging Mia Farrow’s underage daughter.) Irrational me says let’s all get together and go to Orson Scott Card’s house and terrorize him into loving gay people.

I’d like to believe rational me might think differently about Woody Allen if suddenly he was hired to write the new adventures of Pippi Longstocking, but then Woody Allen is a genius. And I don’t give a shit about Pippi Longstocking. Or maybe I’m just incapable of thinking rationally about Woody Allen.

But, if I do say so myself, I think irrational me has a point and it’s that being an asshole is different than being a hateful asshole. And DC has made an error in judgment allowing a hateful asshole to take the reins over the Man of Steel. He’s not just the Man of Steel because he’s impervious to pain, he’s the Man of Steel because he’s unshakably good, he’s the “champion of the oppressed” and if Superman were to actually burst forth from the realms of imagination and into the real world (oh my god, even thinking that is awesome) he would strongly disapprove of not only Scott Card getting the job, but of Scott Card hating gays.

Ever since I’ve read about this, I’ve been fantasizing about Superman meting out justice to creeps like Scott Card. These fantasies come from the irrational me, naturally, so they’re uncharacteristically violent for Superman… But, that brings us back to Superman III which features, among all the stupid slapstick, a battle between a good Superman and a darker-suited, brooding, unshaven alter-ego Superman that I’ve never forgotten.  The battle with himself in a junkyard is a classic bout of a man struggling with his inner demons.

Badass Superman

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And that’s the Superman I think we need to deal with people like Orson Scott Card – the Dirty Harry Superman; but then I remember that the right Superman is the rational-me Superman, the Superman that would admonish Scott Card for his reprehensible politics but have to agree that it would be downright un-American to deny his right to hold those beliefs. And furthermore, that we cannot judge the quality of his writing based on those beliefs, but should only judge the writing itself.

Superman fans, like me, I guess will just have to wait to see how the new stories turn out – and if they live up to truth, justice, and, yes, even the American Way…

Here's a link to a completely rational piece written by NPR contributo Glen Weldon. 

http://www.npr.org/2013/02/17/172229592/man-of-tomorrow-superman-orson-scott-card-and-me