Man of Steel: For Little Boys and Theologians Only

If Michael Phillips’ review in the Chicago Tribune is any indication, it seems that critics (and perhaps moviegoers) have finally had it with absurdly over-the-top, literally earth-shattering special effects sequences in big-budget action films.  It is entirely okay, and indeed often preferable, to have a movie climax that does not involve the potential annihilation of the planet.  Perhaps moviegoers are finally realizing the boredom of sheer excess—when every movie plot threatens a major U.S. city with total destruction, it’s just about the same as if none of them did.  This is a conclusion the public has needed for quite a while (and it’s a horn I’ve been tooting for some time—see my review of last summer’s The Bourne Legacy).  In the wake of such special effects love feasts as the Transformers series—and amidst legitimately awesome blockbusters like The Avengers—America is in need of thoughtful, clever, yet simple films.  Fewer special effects, more snappy dialogue, and a focus on plot.

Yes, we have overdosed on special effects, and Man of Steel may have finally alerted folks to this grave fact.  I am relieved to see that there may be light at the end of this decade’s heretofore entirely computer-generated tunnel of explosions.  How ironic, then, that I found myself loving Man of Steel, and cannot bring myself to agree with the lukewarm or unfavorable reviews that some critics and viewers have afforded it.

There are two reasons for this.

First, the battles.  The battles in Man of Steel are completely over-the-top, exhibiting each and every symptom of dumb action movie excess, including but not limited to: extreme close-ups of hand-to-hand combat that obscure the events of the brawl and render it less exciting; unconvincing computer-generated body doubles engaging in unbelievable stunts that likewise diminish the excitement of the movie; an absurd scale that requires not just the combatants, but entire skyscrapers and city blocks to be brought down over the course of the fight; disconcerting collateral damage that calls to mind the presumably grisly fate of countless bystanders, who are totally glossed over in the movie’s narrative; and volume jacked up so high that one exits the theater both dizzy and wondering how to treat a perforated ear drum.

And yet, for all that, the battles are awesome.  They are everything I would hope for in a Superman battle.  Superman punches with marvelous strength; his enemy returns a blow of equal magnitude.  Superman grabs his foe, flies a mile into the air, and slams him back to earth—and leaving his mark in the form of a crater.  Watching the battles in Man of Steel, I was taken back to my childhood, which was filled with epic battles between Godzilla and King Kong, Spider-Man and Venom, and a host of other heroes and monsters who filled my toybox and my coolest daydreams.

I smirked as Superman flew General Zodd up into space, only to be smashed by his villainous foe into an orbiting satellite and thrown back into our atmosphere (both of them catch on fire as they hurtle back down to earth, and of course neither is affected negatively by this development).  Yet the smirk was not one of cynicism, but fraternal enjoyment; I knew that somewhere on the other end of this movie was someone who agreed with me that “it would be really cool if Superman grabbed him and flew up so high that he went into space, and started punching him while he was up there, and then he crashed into a satellite, and they both fell back down to earth and caught on fire…”  You get the picture.  And yes, that also goes for the absolutely awesome scene in which Superman tackles Zodd at lighting speed, rolls him through miles of dirt, punching him savagely all the while, and eventually launches him full speed into a truck filling up at a gas station.  This is in response to Zodd bullying Superman’s earthly Mom (while he’s punching Zodd, he yells, “YOU…THINK…YOU…CAN…THREATEN…MY…MOM!?!”).  For any boy who loves his own Mom, this is seriously fun to watch.

The battles are not perfect.  The effects sometimes look a little unrealistic.  It is unclear how exactly Superman wins the fight (because spoiler alert, he wins).  And they certainly display no sense of subtlety or restraint.  But sometimes we’re not in the mood for restraint.  And what better way to indulge such a mood than in a harmless and basically innocent couple of hours in a movie theater?  If you enjoyed making your action figures bash each other across the living room and get crushed by giant boulders (i.e. sofa cushions) when you were younger, you will definitely enjoy this movie.

On to the second reason I enjoyed Man of Steel: it got me thinking about spiritual things.  I am a Theology guy, and I always comb movies, books, and shows for religious, spiritual, and moral messages.  Whether good or bad, they’re always there.  Man of Steel continues the recent superhero movie trend of self-sacrifice and responsibility so wonderfully inaugurated in 2002’s Spider-Man and continued by later Marvel and Batman films.

However, there is something about this movie that goes much deeper than the others.  Man of Steel transcends mere virtue and, I contend, delves into specifically religious and Christian ideas.  Throughout the movie, Superman is presented as a sort of Christ-figure.  On the surface level: he’s 33 years old, he’s lived a life of relative obscurity leading up to his public career as a wonder-worker, his father is dead by the time he’s an adult and he is very close to his mother, and he is met with varying degrees of both admiration and suspicion by those who encounter him.

On a deeper level, we see Superman/Kal-El/Clark as a blend of humanity and superhumanity; we see him interact with and master forces the like of which any number of humans couldn’t dream of taking on; we see him courted by evil and tempted to abuse his power by prideful superhumans who consider humanity an inferior creation; we see the hope of an entire people resting on his shoulders; we see him engage in a struggle that literally no one else could begin to take up; we see him banish evil with an act of total self-sacrifice.

I will dwell on only one scene to illustrate this point.  When Superman attacks the terraforming machine in the Indian Ocean, he is weakened by the atmospheric changes surrounding the contraption.  After fighting off a set of serpentine metal tendrils in spite of his weakened state, he is forced underneath the full blast of the machine’s world-destroying might.  We see him engulfed in blue energy emanating from the machine, apparently being pushed to the limits of his resilience and strength.  It seems that he might not survive as he scrunches up his face in pain and yells in agony.  Yet just when it seems that he won’t pull through, he launches up against this stream of energy and slices through the machine’s innards in a stunning upward flight.

Perhaps it seems absurd, but this scene got me thinking about Jesus’ suffering and crucifixion.  What I saw in the movie—Superman withstanding a torrent of lethal otherworldly energy and emerging the victor—made me look at Jesus’ act of sacrifice in a new way.  Specifically, it focused my attention on the spiritual aspect of the Passion.  Of course we often consider, especially before Easter, the extreme physical suffering Jesus went through for our sake.  But we must remember that we also believe that, in taking the burden of the cross on his shoulders, Jesus was taking the weight of humanity’s guilt upon himself.  During those awful hours of torture and death, Jesus took up the unfathomable mass of man’s evil, carried it with him along the way to Calvary, and ultimately destroyed every ounce of it.  There was more negative energy—more evil, pain, guilt, shame, regret, horror, hatred, disgust, and misery—concentrated on Jesus Christ at that time than on any other person in history before or since, or ever.  How amazing is that, that he did that for us?  The blue energy that almost killed Superman in this movie is, to me, another way of expressing the spiritual aspect of Jesus’ suffering.
 

Now I should already know the amazing nature of Jesus’ sacrifice, and in some sense I do.  But seeing this computer-generated spectacle on screen today made me realize the magnitude of Christ’s spiritual agony as he faced off against the worst stuff that evil could throw at him.  In taking our guilt upon himself, Christ did the most amazing, heroic, and wonderful thing anyone has ever done or will do.

I may not be making myself clear.  We illustrate and meditate on depictions of the physical suffering of our Savior (and this is good and important).  But how often do we reflect on the spiritual aspect?  How could it have felt to carry the punishment incurred by an entire race of beings on a single man's shoulders?  It is a fearsome thing to consider.  And we just don't think about it when we see a picture of the crucifixion, because it's not something that comes through in a picture, or even in the physical event itself.  Onlookers could not see the burden of sin Jesus took up on his way to Golgotha.  It was and is a spiritual reality, accessed and understood only through faith.  We believe it, but we could never see it with our eyes.

Man of Steel is certainly not a straight allegory of Jesus.  If it was intended to be, it’s a train wreck.  But I don’t think that was the filmmaker’s intention.  Instead, I think the idea here was to illustrate certain Christian ideas and images in interesting ways.  In that sense, the movie is a complete success.

So there you have it: Man of Steel, a film for little boys and theologians.  Go see it.  I think you might enjoy it.

Hero

Humanity has always been captivated by the idea of the hero.  We have never stopped telling stories about heroes.  Why is that?  I think it is because we thrive on examples.  We can do a job much more effectively if we see someone else do it first.  In the same way, we can be better people if we see someone else model the right attitudes and behaviors.  So we look to heroes to give us that inspiration, that push in the right direction.  If our desire to be a hero is great enough, we start to live like a hero.  And living like a hero is the only way to become a hero.


Lately the movie Captain America has been on my mind.  In a strange way, I was pulled into the heartwarming but heart-wrenching story of the Cap.  But more than that, I was drawn to the character as he is portrayed in the film, as well as its mind-blowingly awesome sequel, The Avengers.


In Captain America you have the quintessential fish out of water.  Plunged into science-defying (but plot-satisfying) sleep for 70 years under polar icebergs, Captain America is thawed out to a rude awakening just in time to answer another call of duty: the Earth and its inhabitants are now threatened by an enemy both supernatural and extraterrestrial.  What does Cap do?  Does he mourn the lost promise of love he left behind in 1943?  Does he wallow in the unbelievable changes the world has gone through since his era?  Does he change who he is to blend in with his surroundings?

Well, yes to all of those, for a time.  He is human.  He mourns.  He wallows.  He even responds uncertainly to the pressure of his new surroundings.  But soon enough, when the need arises, Cap gets out of himself, suits up for action, and proceeds to risk life and limb for what he believes in, which is protecting the innocent, fighting injustice, and promoting the ideals of our free country.

God has used this fictional character to turn my heart toward an important truth:  Heroism is about doing the best thing possible whenever you have an opportunity.  But we also learn that a hero quickly becomes a loser (and sometimes an instrument of evil) when he starts to focus on himself.  What is inspiring about Captain America is that he never does this.  It's always about the mission, the objective, the well-being of others.  Self-sacrifice is not a stumbling block, not even the subject of a moment's hesitation.  Giving it all he's got is standard operating procedure.

In many ways, he reminds me of the very real Theodore Roosevelt, who said:

The true Christian is the true citizen, lofty of purpose, resolute in endeavor, ready for a hero’s deeds, but never looking down on his task because it is cast in the day of small things; scornful of baseness, awake to his own duties as well as to his rights, following the higher law with reverence, and in this world doing all that in him lies, so that when death comes he may feel that mankind is in some degree better because he has lived.

Was Theodore Roosevelt the real-life version of Captain America?  In his youth, he was a tiny whelp of a child, weakened by asthma.  Through sheer determination and unrelenting discipline, he conquered his weakness and grew into a brawny barrel of a man.  More importantly, he grew on the inside as well.  Roosevelt became one of the most dynamic, confident, and inspiring leaders this country has ever seen.  He represented our country to the world as a place of freedom and opportunity, looking out for the poor and downtrodden workers while refusing to dump all the country's problems on the rich.  He paraded a brand-new, state-of-the-art fleet of battleships around the world, painted stark white--a stunningly eloquent symbol of America's commitment to peace and its power to defend it against bullies.  Was Theodore Roosevelt Captain America?  I'm convinced.

Heroes like these, both fictional and real-life, point to the person I would call the quintessential human hero of our history: the Virgin Mary.  Catholicism teaches that Mary was conceived without sin, and lived a sinless life.  So great was her virtue that at the time of what would have been her earthly death, she was simply "assumed" bodily into Heaven.  No Purgatory, no penitence, no perfecting necessary.  She was simply the ideal that all the rest of us poor human saps should live up to.

Mary comes onto the scene in the Bible with such an inspiring message.  On her lips is the motto of all true heroes:  "May it be done to me according to your word." (Luke 1:38)  This, ultimately, is what life is all about—discerning the will of God, our marching orders for life, and answering that call of duty.  Each day when we get up, we must spring into action, unhampered by negative pressures from both without and within, never losing sight of that purpose.  At the end of the day, if we have looked up to God and said "May it be done to me according to your word," and really offered our day in accordance with His will, then we are heroes.  And, ultimately, we are happy.

So I'd like to thank God for both Theodore Roosevelt, and all the people who contributed to the Captain America film.  Both of these rather macho figures ironically but understandably pushed me toward a greater devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and a more personal understanding of why she is given such great honor in our tradition.

I could talk about heroes all day.  But then I'd have no time to actually try to be one.  Perhaps you, too, need to connect with Home Base and figure out what exactly you're supposed to be doing.  I hope your communication is successful and clear.  See you in the trenches.

Hail Mary!

Joezilla

The Amazing Everyman

He was born just like any other child, but after reaching adulthood, he grew and gained extraordinary abilities, towering over his former self. He can move with surprising speed and agility for a being so large. Further, his strength is great enough to lift heavy objects that many are unable to budge. For short periods of time, he can energize his system to allow himself heightened speed, strength, and reflexes, albeit with a short period of recovery afterward. His mind’s capacity and capability have increased exponentially since childhood, and he is now able to commit substantial chunks of information to memory and recall them, verbatim, at will. Every time he repeats an action, he becomes more proficient at it, resulting in potential perfection with practice. His only weakness is that he is not invulnerable, but his other abilities render this weakness moot in all but the most harrowing of circumstances.

He is the average grown man, and he vastly discounts his physical capabilities.

This is one reason why we love superhero movies. Every good superhero origin story has a scene where the hero first tests out his powers, and we always marvel at the seemingly limitless potential of our hero’s newfound abilities. Tobey Maguire’s Peter Parker hoots with joy as he leaps and bounds across the rooftops of New York, pushing his abilities to their limit—and realizing there may not be one. Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark takes his newly-built Iron Man suit for a late-night spin through the skies and hits supersonic speeds without breaking a sweat. Despite a few close calls, he demonstrates the amazing potential of his new technology, and leaves us wondering if anything on the planet would be capable of taking him down.

The point here is that these scenes remind us of what it feels like to run through a field at full speed, or to swing a baseball bat with all our might—and see the ball go sailing toward the horizon. We ourselves possess superhuman powers, in a sense—can you remember marveling at your Dad’s seemingly limitless strength (he could open soda bottles with his bare hands!), and wondering how grown-ups could be so tall? Now you are that strong, you are that tall. Isn’t that awesome? We are all superheroes, in a sense, traversing our own perilous journeys, discovering our extraordinary powers, fighting our harrowing battles, nursing our weaknesses, and protecting whatever it is we hold closest to our hearts.

So go and do your duty, and remember—“With great power comes great responsibility.” Thanks, Uncle Ben!