The Death of Superman? · 5:33am Dec 15th, 2022
(This essay was first written for a local writing journal. Finally decided to post it here. May also be read on DeviantArt here.)
I first really discovered Superman when I was about to graduate from high school. Or perhaps I should say, I first really became interested in Superman when I was about to graduate: I knew who he was well before then, of course; even though I was a fan of Marvel Comics heroes like Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four growing up, who were the main competitors of their “distinguished competition” like Superman and Batman, I knew the basics about the original superhero. Last son of the doomed planet Krypton, rocketed to Earth and raised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for the Daily Planet, whose only weakness was the radioactive mineral Kryptonite, et cetera. I knew all the essential basics and cliches associated with the character, and for a good many years, that was enough for me.
I wouldn’t say that I disliked Superman by any means. I had seen and enjoyed him in the iconic movies directed by Richard Donner and starring Christopher Reeve, as well as certain other DC Comics I read in my free time during high school. But for most of those four years, the majority of my superhero fandom was saved for Batman, and his weird and moody corner of that universe.
To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what prompted my interest and focus to shift from the Dark Knight to the Man of Steel. I can name some comics that did serve as “gateways” into fully appreciating the character of Superman beyond the broad overview of the character I was familiar with: one of these was “Superman for All Seasons,” a beautiful four-issue miniseries by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, that chronicles Superman’s first year through the passing of the seasons, with each issue being narrated by a different member of the core cast.
Deliberately written to be an introduction to Superman and his world, “for All Seasons” is a wonderful story through and through. While containing some great spectacle with Superman’s sheer power on display, the real joy of the book is not in seeing the title character save a runaway train, or even stop a nuclear missile from hitting Metropolis; but in the moving characterization, and wistful narration, around a simple but effective story of a young man struggling to find confidence with his place in the world. Combined with Tim Sale’s gorgeous, Norman Rockwell-esque artwork, and beautiful watercolors too, and you have a story that feels both nostalgic and timeless at the same time. “Superman for All Seasons” is a story that taught me that Clark Kent was every bit as real and important to Superman stories, as Superman himself.
My other “gateway” comic for the Man of Steel would have to be Grant Morrison’s “All-Star Superman.” A twelve-issue miniseries that sits in its own continuity, “All-Star” does not tell the story of Superman’s early years, but instead bases itself around the idea of Superman facing his own pending demise. Fatally poisoned by Lex Luthor, Superman has a year left before he dies. The Man of Steel responds to this grim news by quietly setting his affairs in order, and working to accomplish as much good as he can in the time he has left.
“All-Star Superman” is a comic that takes a borderline mythic approach to the story of Superman. It is also a comic that unabashedly revels in the larger-than-life and often absurd side of superhero comics. In just one of the twelve issues in its run, Superman faces obstacles ranging from an invading army of subterranean dinosaur men, to arm-wrestling with Samson and Hercules, and standing off against the extra-dimensional “Ultra-Sphinx.” But despite the utter ridiculousness of any of these scenarios, Morrison does not forgo character for the sake of spectacle.
One of the most iconic scenes from the whole comic – indeed, it is considered one of the greatest scenes in the entire history of comic books – is a single page where Superman talks down a teenager from committing suicide. “It’s never as bad as it seems,” the Man of Steel says as he gently comforts the girl on the ledge, “You’re much stronger than you think you are. Trust me.”
It is a scene that still moves me, nearly a whole decade after the first time I read it. Amid the sound and fury of the superhero genre at its most frenetic, Grant Morrison finds the time to show Superman as a figure who is not just raw power, but someone who radiates and inspires kindness, warmth, and hope with just a few words. “Superman for All Seasons” taught me that Clark Kent was just as important as Superman. “All Star Superman” for its part, showed me that even in the most outrageous four-color stories of superheroes and villains, there is the potential for something beautiful and moving.
I say all of this, as prelude to the fact that, just as I was finally getting into the Superman character and the best of what he could be, that the character and his archetype would soon be taken in a very different direction by DC Comics and other media at large.
In the summer of 2013, Warner Bros. released Man of Steel. Directed by Zack Snyder (famed for his adaptations of the graphic novels 300 and Watchmen), this movie was meant to be a grand relaunch of DC Comics’ flagship hero and a challenge to the box office dominance of their rival in the Marvel Comics superheroes. Instead, Man of Steel polarized critics (Superman fans in particular) for its dour portrayal of Clark Kent and his world; most infamously splitting viewers’ reception for its climactic fight, depicting a near-apocalyptic city-leveling brawl between Superman and his enemy General Zod… a brawl that only ends when Superman snaps Zod’s neck. One can still find raging arguments online to this day between outraged fans of Superman who see the movie as character assassination of a beloved icon; versus Snyder fans who defend the movie as a genius modernization and realistic depiction of a classic superhero.
Earlier that same year, a video game would go even farther and darker with its take on the Superman archetype. April 2013 saw NetherRealm Studios release “Injustice: Gods Among Us,” a fighting game about a grim alternate version of the DC Universe where the Earth is ruled by a dictatorship led by Superman, Wonder Woman, and several other superheroes; with Batman leading an insurgency movement against them. The cause of Superman’s fall from grace, as revealed in the opening minutes of the story, is that Batman’s archenemy the Joker engineered the murder of a pregnant Lois Lane and triggered the destruction of Metropolis with a stolen nuclear weapon; causing a grief-maddened Superman to gruesomely murder the villain and decide to take a hardline, no-mercy stance on criminals and lawbreakers. While the overall plot of Injustice is about the Justice League of the “main” DC Universe facing and overthrowing the tyrannical regime of this other world, the fact remains that the bulk of its story depicts Superman as a tyrant and murderer.
As I left high school, and went through college and beyond, the trend continued, and even escalated. Man of Steel would gain a sequel in 2015, Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, went even further with the dour tone, up to featuring a lengthy sequence where Batman has a vision/nightmare of Superman having reduced the world to a barren, Mad Max-style wasteland. While Zack Snyder would step down from superhero movies for a number of years due to personal tragedy, his 2021 recut of the Justice League movie – while ironically hewing the closest to tradition with its approach to Superman and his legacy – would still revisit this “Knightmare” timeline in its last minutes, casting something of a grim pall over the rest of that movie’s story.
Injustice would officially release a sequel in 2017, one that completely jettisoned the “main DC heroes versus counterparts” idea in favor of focusing entirely on the alternate earth where Superman had been dictator. Though the prospect of redemption is floated for some of the other heroes who went along with Superman’s One Earth Regime, the Man of Steel himself proves to be fully committed to his brutal authoritarian vision of rule. If the player chooses to side with Superman in the final battle of the game, the ending of Injustice 2 has Superman take over the world again, complete with brainwashing dissenters into cyborg soldiers to be used in further wars of conquest. If the first game had Superman as dictator, the sequel ends with him as an even worse threat than many of the character’s evilest enemies in the main comics.
2019 saw the release of two “anti-Superman” projects: the horror movie Brightburn was one of these. Brightburn being the story of a boy in rural Kansas who, upon reaching puberty, starts to display superpowers and an increasingly monstrous nature to go with them. Like Superman, Brandon Breyer is a child from an alien world; unlike Clark Kent, Brandon is an agent of destruction, who turns out to have been sent for the purpose of causing death and slaughter. The movie takes the surface trappings of a superhero origin and flips them around to make a monster story. If Injustice and Snyder’s movies at least engage on some level with the idea that “power corrupts,” Brightburn has even less of a meaning, if any, to be gleaned from its carnage.
The *other* project from 2019, while actually having a deeper intent or meaning to it, is even more unpleasant to my view. Amazon Prime’s “The Boys,” based on the comic book by Garth Ennis, is a scathing work of mockery aimed at superheroes – presenting a setting where there are no supervillains, no alien threats, no real powerful menaces beyond the superheroes created by the powerful mega-corporation Vought. The superheroes in this show do fight crime, but only for PR reasons: almost every single one of them (barring naive newcomer Starlight) are, at best, apathetic and jaded celebrities coasting along off of their fame; or are callous, depraved monsters who casually commit atrocities and revel in their power and fame. The titular “Boys” being a vigilante group of victims of the superheroes seeking justice (and often revenge) for the wrongs committed by Vought and its so-called “heroes”.
The show’s Superman analogue, Homelander, is the worst of these by far. Homelander is a grotesque mockery of the very idea of the character. He is a monstrous, swaggering, depraved bully, who casually murders and rape often at a whim, and often with the boast that “I can do whatever I want.” The thesis statement of the series is made blatantly clear: there is no such thing as a hero. People with power are, almost all without exception, going to use it to hurt others. And people who believe in heroes are, at best, woefully ignorant and misled, or at worst actively malicious and fascist at heart. (This is illustrated by The Boys’ third and most recent season, which portrays Homelander’s most outspoken fans as analogues of the alt-right and of QAnon conspiracy theorists. When their hero openly kills an unarmed protestor in public, in front of a child no less, they cheer and applaud him with glee.)
Amid all of these grim examples – and amid the popularity of The Boys, which I routinely see praise for and discussion of from both professional critics and online fans – I have often found myself wondering if I became a fan of the Superman character just in time to witness the ultimate rejection of him and his ideals. Looking back over a decade or so of works, ranging from movies to television to even comic books, the character’s own original medium, depicting the character or counterparts of him as murderous, depraved, and immoral, I feel the question must be asked: “Is there no place for a character like Superman anymore? Is the idea of the selfless hero no longer one that people will believe in?”
It's a depressing thought, to say the least. There have been plenty of times in the past several years, when I have felt sad or hurt or angry, where I have found comfort or even inspiration in the example of Superman and his stories, or perhaps more specifically, the core theme at the heart of so many of them.
I’ve often heard the criticism from some people (some of whom I am related to, as a point of fact) that Superman is boring because he’s too powerful, that he always wins, or that he doesn’t have a deep or interesting personality. Often, I think that criticisms like that are looking in all the wrong places when it comes to the Superman archetype.
To me, at least, the real magic of Superman is not that he is the strongest man in the world, or that he is nearly invincible. Or even that he can fly. I think that the most wonderful thing about the character, especially as I have grown older, is that he has all those powers and still chooses to do good anyway. That he wants to help other people first, and himself last. The real magic of Superman is that the character, at his best, represents the very best of humanity’s spirit: hope, optimism, kindness, and righteousness.
And as long as there are still people who believe in those things – in those wonderful ideas – the character will never truly be dead.
I love Brightburn, but yeah I have to agree completely. It doesn't engage much on corruption of power, it's just more straight horror. It plays with the ideas of a good kid slowly turning to be bad, but it rushes that idea too much where the eventual downfall and turn of him becoming this scary as hell monster doesn't feel like it has a good buildup. If this is what you were referring to, I'll admit, my understanding on that last sentence isn't the strongest.
Annnnnd this critique that people say about him is absolute bullcrap. It's not about someone being the most awesome super ever. For all his power, he's got weaknesses (aside from the damn Kryptonite), cause he has to live like all of us. He loses people he loves, he can't save everyone, and he has to face problems that we all face in the real world. He's supposed to be a symbol of all the good in the world, and to show that we can use that good to help everyone, not because we want to gain anything, but because it's right. Because it's decent. And above freakin' all... it's just KIND. I am not the biggest fan of Superman... and I can tell his existence is important cause we need figures like this to help us today, especially more than ever.
But still, all in all, I think this was a really solid post, and it was really well thought out regarding Superman. I hope the local writing journal loved it.
5703420
That's essentially the gist of it. I was not impressed with Brightburn, so I'll admit, my view of it in the essay is not at all flattering - I basically call it as an edgy "evil child" story using the trappings of Superman's story in place of anything deeper or meaningful. (Basically, I mean to say, it uses gore and the pretense of "power corrupts" instead of anything deeper.)
Nicely said.
And no worries, the writing journal accepted my essay. I got to read it a few weeks ago and it got a solid response from the audience there, so I'd say "mission accomplished"
Dude this is BRILLIANT and a wonderful view on Superman and his mythos. By chance what do you think of his various villains? Lex Luthor, Metallo, Brainiac, Ultra Humanite, Parasite, Doomsday and the like?
In a twisted way, "I can do whatever I want" being the core of Homelander is true to the source material.
Because that's also at the core of Superman.
Except, where Homelander sees the world in all its flaws and chooses to embody the worst of them, Superman sees the world in all its flaws, and chooses to embody its best qualities.
The archetypal Superman is good, he is kind, he is decent, and he is loving. He is Moses with powers, leading his people, in this case Earth, out of the metaphorical Egypt, in this case, their worst impulses and the worst among them.
Homelander can do whatever he wants, and chooses to be evil.
Superman can do whatever he wants, and chooses to be good.
And they both do it for the same exact reason.
Because who's going to stop them?
5703451
Thanks, I'm glad that you liked it so much.
And to answer your question, I like most of Superman's villains. I think his rogues gallery has some good solid picks in it, even if they're not my personal favorites the way that Batman, Spider-Man or the Flash's are.
5703476
Hmm. Interesting.
I detest the notion of comparing Homelander to Superman on ANYTHING, but you raise a point nonetheless.
5703483
Personally I'm a huge fan of Metallo and Parasite IMO. They're just really well designed villains. Metallo especially if you play him right.
Well... I know I'm not one to talk about Superman in general, but I have to say you still did a great job of conveying your point through this essay, and I have to say, I fully agree with it.
While I certainly enjoy a fair amount of anti-heroes, anti-villains, and redemptions, characters who are simply good 'just because it's what's right' have their own unique appeal, and in my opinion, are that much more of an inspiration. Anyone can start out good and be broken down into a villain by life's hardships (and this is not me judging anyone, because I've endured hardships myself and I know how difficult it can be to remain upbeat and unambiguously kind when life keeps kicking you in the teeth), but it takes a special kind of person to endure the hardships and still choose to do good and still remain kind, and I'd call that much more inspiring.
Because when one looks at it, one can say that many villains and heroes have common or at least similar points in their backstories. The difference is in how they react to them.
That said, all of this is just my opinion. However, I do think you conveyed your own points and thoughts very well. And you have my praise for having submitted it to a writing journal, as I know how difficult sharing writing can be, especially without the shield of anonimity. Kudos to you. :)
5703663
Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoyed reading this.
Reading about the phasing out of optimistic superheroing in favour of "darker than dark" anti-Superman types, I do wonder at what point cynicism goes from "expect the worst" to "celebrate the worst". Especially since being cynical is a bit like taking drugs, watching gore, or indulging sexually: some people treat it as more mature than it actually is.
It also occurs to me, rather nicely, that MLP:FiM is 90% Clark Kent and 10% "How do we unleash Superman?"
5703871
I couldn't agree more. Especially regarding whatever line there is between going from expecting the bad things to happen, to outright reveling in them. It's no way to go through life, that's for sure.
Amen to that as well. It has long been a belief of mine that the more a work (or person) touts itself as being "mature," it probably really isn't and is just trying desperately to convince everyone else of it.