Why I Almost Walked Out On Man of Steel

When I love something, I make excuses for it. It's why I went to see The Phantom Menace when they rereleased it in 3D and it's why I convinced myself that Superman Returns was a good movie. 

Kal-El? Is that you?

Because I love Superman. He's always been my favorite superhero, even when it became obvious that he lacked the edgy, "cool" factor that inherent in other superhero properties. I don't care about any of that. I've loved him all this time and I thought that I would love him forever. 

Until Zack Snyder got a hold of him, at least. 

Man of Steel is a terrible, disjointed mess of a film that is full of plot holes and terrible dialogue and pointless violence. Even that, I might be able to forgive, if Zack Snyder had addressed his source material with even the slightest hint of respect. Instead, what we get is a desperate, inferior Dark Knightification of Superman that attempts to assassinate every single iconic character from the 75 year history of the comic book. As the film goes on (and it does, for nearly two and a half painful hours) it becomes clearer and clearer that this isn't a case of misunderstanding the Superman property. Zack Snyder and the people who made this film (and, I wager, the people who actually like it) must genuinely hate Superman. 

How else can you explain the fact that the word "Superman" isn't even spoken out loud a single time in the entire film? How can you explain a scene where Jonathan Kent actually chastises his son for saving a bus full of other people's children? How can you explain an almost laughable sequence in which Clark Kent watches his adopted father die in a tornado rather than save him because he's that afraid of revealing his true identity? 

In what incantation of the Superman stories have Clark and Jonathan Kent been that unbelievably selfish? And how, having been raised to think like that, could Clark ever become the hero that Metropolis needs him to be? 

Don't worry. Amy Adams and Morpheus are skeptical, too.

The short answer is: he can't. 

When Man of Steel isn't assaulting its source material, it is trying to be some kind of weird, sci-fi, alien invasion movie where Michael Shannon yells a lot and Jor-El hangs around as a computer program. Or it is trying to be a commercial for IHOP (the pancake restaurant features very prominently in several shameless product placement scenes). Or it is showing an entire city being leveled to the ground in the most offensive display of meaningless disaster-porn this side of Michael Bay. Or it jumping around in rapid-fire flashbacks like Terrence Malick meets an episode of Lost in a way that actually makes the Superman origin story (one of, I thought, the most well-known stories on the planet) confusing. 

Michael Shannon takes a break from yelling to wonder why he did this movie.

What Man of Steel doesn't do is develop the character of Clark Kent. The doofy, bespectacled reporter is nowhere to be found. Instead, he's been replaced by a beefy hipster Hercules who works on fishing boats and tells Lois Lane his life story five minutes after meeting her (even though we already established that his father died to protect his secret identity and, oh yeah, Lois is a reporter!). 

And Amy Adams, who I would go to bat for any day as one of the finest and most underrated actresses in the business, actually looks terrible in this movie. Her version of Lois is not ambitious, is not even particularly smart, and spends most of the movie following Clark around like a love sick puppy. She's even willing to trash her huge, probably career-making, story about extraterrestrial life on earth without a fuss because, well, have you seen Henry Cavill? 

I mean, seriously. Have you seen him?

There's no humor to be found here, either. Humor was a key part of each and every one of the earlier Superman films, whether it was the ineptitude of Lex Luthor's henchmen or Clark's clumsiness or Lois' brassy attitude. You've got to remember, this is ultimately a story about a man wearing tights and a bright red cape who can fly. It's not exactly Shakespeare. Even The Dark Knight, as bleak as it was, had moments where laughter eased the tension. But there is not a single moment of bright color or joy to redeem this cynical shell of a film. 

And it culminates in one of the darkest and most disturbing sequences that I've ever seen in a comic book film: Superman snaps Zod's neck. And because subtlety is clearly not Snyder's strong suit, he shows the event in all of its explicitly violent glory. In that moment, I thought about all of the Man of Steel action figures that I've seen in stores over the past few months. I thought about the fact that my job gave out 300 free tickets to the film at a local middle school. I thought about all of the children that were going to see that scene and I recoiled as though I'd been slapped across the face. Never mind the fact that it is entirely out of character for Superman to kill anyone. We've already established that every characterization in Man of Steel is incorrect. This film is being marketed to children in a very big way and to have the big guy behave like that is irresponsible and disgusting. 

There is a scene about halfway through Man of Steel, in which Lois Lane asks Superman what the S on his chest stands for. "It's not an S," he says. "On my planet, it's a symbol for Hope." That would be absolutely fantastic, if Snyder and his team really believed that it were true. But it all comes down to the fact that Snyder, and probably a lot of other people, think that the hope and the optimism inherent in the Superman story are passé or incompatible with our modern world. They are contemptuous and disparaging and would probably sneer at the end of the old Chris Reeve movies, where Superman flew across the screen and grinned a cheesy grin directly at the camera before disappearing into space. 

Will someone PLEASE think of the children?

Zack Snyder might hate Superman, but I still love him and I know that there is a place for him in this world. I know that, no matter how dark things get and how many horrible tragedies happen, there will always be room for hope. I have to believe that, because without hope, what do we have? We live in a world the person who bombed a major city during a major event ends up on the cover of Rolling Stone. Children are killing children with no discernible motives. Even movie theaters aren't safe from deadly violence, as we learned last year. So, in a time that is so dark and so desperate, what is wrong with a little bit of hope? What is wrong with a little bit of optimism? What is wrong with Superman? 

Why I Am So Thankful For The Postal Service

There are things in life that you wish for so fervently, there is no way that they can do anything but disappoint you. And then, there are those very, very rare events that manage to be even better than you imagined they could be.

I, like a lot of people my age, fell in love with a band called The Postal Service when I was in high school. For the past ten years, I've kept Give Up close to my heart, revisiting it over and over again and always finding something new to love about it. It is simply one of my very favorite records to ever exist in any time and any place. 

Yet, there was always a great sense of loss that accompanied the record, as well. The Postal Service is the band that got away. After that one perfect record, Jimmy Tamborello and Ben Gibbard went on with their respective lives and continued making great music-- just not together. And for those of us who were so in love with the collaboration, the idea of a Postal Service reunion became one of those musical Moby Dicks that were long chased after and often rumored, but never materialized. 

Until this year, that is. 

When the Postal Service announced that they were reforming (along with Jenny freaking love of my life Lewis) for a tour to commemorate the 10th anniversary of Give Up, I felt like all of the Christmases for the next five years had come early. And I knew that there was no way that I was going to miss it. 

Ten years ago, if you had told me that I would be standing ten feet from the stage in an arena owned by Jay-Z, watching the Postal Service play their one album to a sold out crowd- I probably would have laughed at you. And yet, that is exactly what happened last night. Given my intense expectations, and the fact that I had waited so damn long to see these folks perform together, I was aware that there was a very good chance that I might wind up feeling slightly disappointed. 

Thankfully, that couldn't have been further from the truth. When Ben, Jimmy, and Jenny walked out on stage, that familiar droning synth from "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" started playing and the entire arena lost their collective shit. What followed for the next two hours was nothing short of magical. It was the biggest, most fun, dance party/singalong that I have ever attended. There were several moments where I lifted my arms in the air and looked up at the teeming masses above me and felt such unbelievable amounts of love, there is no other way to describe the experience but "religious."

The audience weren't the only people who could feel the magic. Onstage, the band was energetic and smiling and playful. I've seen Jenny Lewis play a few different shows under different circumstances, but I have never seen her have as much fun as she was having last night. Ditto for Ben Gibbard, who danced and strutted around the stage like he was channeling Bono. Overall, it was abundantly clear that the members of the Postal Service understand why we love the band so much- because they love it just as much. 

The show ended with the joyful, deafening, crowd-led repetition of that final line from "Brand New Colony." Everything will change. Everything will change. Everything will change. 

As I walked outside into the steamy New York air and watched the hipsters dispersing, an overwhelming gratitude settled over me. I felt so thankful for Give Up; for the fact that it came into my life when it did and opened my eyes to a completely different musical landscape. But mostly, I was thankful to the Postal Service for giving us the gift of these reunion shows, for recognizing and rewarding our devotion, and for making a decade-old dream come true.  

Jenny channeling her spirit animal, Dave Mustaine.