Tuesday 25 March 2014

The Psychology of Superhero Films (And Why We Love Them)

The new trailer for X-Men: Days of Future Past dropped yesterday, and once again I have an erection that could hold up a fucking paint can. I wrote an article awhile back after the first trailer launched regarding my worries about an over-saturation of comic book movies, and while I still stand by that claim, I'd like to take a moment and delve into another aspect of it. Namely, why do we love them so much?

I have a particular fondness for superhero films, even though I'm not much of a comic book reader (friends of mine will know the only graphic novels I own are Batman related, because . . . well, it's Batman). I'm also a fitness enthusiast and exercise everyday at home, and I always enjoy putting on a movie to play in the background instead of music, and most of the time it ends up being a superhero movie. Why? Well, I've seen most of them so many times that I don't need to pay attention to know what's going on, and they also seem to sync up nicely with the sort of mind frame I try to maintain while exercising, but more on that in a bit.

Obviously I'm not the only person who enjoys superhero flicks, because there's no way Marvel and DC would be able to set up franchises with such confidence if the general audience was getting sick of them. I'm already excited for the double bill of Captain America 3 and Batman vs Superman, which are supposed to open on the same day.

In 2016.

Granted, the second Captain America hasn't even been released yet, and for all I know, it's shit (not likely though - Chris Evans is a total boss) but their release date is two years from now. Two. Goddamn. Years. I could be married with kids or dead in the cold ground by that time. The industry could collapse. The zombie apocalypse that all the nerds have been praying for might finally come to pass. Never in the history of cinema have studios banked so confidently on a franchise' staying power, but this seems like a gravy train that isn't going to stop anytime soon.

So why are superhero movies so great?

I think on a base level, they manage to meld two important aspects of cinema that never much crossed paths until The Matrix came around - the blending of action and thought provoking subject matter. For The Matrix it was philosophical and existential mindfuckery,  for superhero films (the good ones, at least) it's character drama. The first few superhero movies (the original X-Men and Spiderman) displayed this reasonably well, but it wasn't until Batman Begins came around that the formula was perfected. Christopher Nolan's first Batman entry aimed not to just be a mere "superhero" or "comic book" movie, but simply a great film - a character study, really - that just happened to take its source material from comics and superheroes.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Superhero films appeal in a general entertainment sort of way, because they feature attractive people doing fantastical things with lots of explosions and comedy to boot. Their lasting appeal, however, lies in their character portrayals. One of the wonderful things that this surge of superhero films has done is expose comics and graphic novels as being more than literature for obsessive nerds, instead showing that a lot of wonderful storytelling exists in the medium. The majority of superhero films in the last decade (or at least the most popular ones) focus heavily on the character of the hero and their struggles as a human being, which thankfully audiences are able to related to, and the less fantastical the better.

Audiences subconsciously strive to be empathetic to characters in storytelling. If they can relate to a character onscreen, they become more invested. Deep down, everyone likes to believe that they are the hero in the personal story of their life, and superhero films strike a resounding chord with that. There is a catharsis in watching a hero we identify with overcoming their struggles in ways we wish we could overcome our own. It's mythology when you break it down - a hero's journey. We are all our own heroes, and we easily identify with even the most basic plots of similar stories.

To focus on DC for a moment, this is where Christopher Nolan really hit the ball out of the park with his Dark Knight trilogy. He didn't present us the story of Batman; he presented us the story of Bruce Wayne, a man so traumatized by his past that he felt compelled to create a vigilante persona. The biggest struggles he faces in each film - although they may involve sweeping chases, massive explosions, and larger than life villains - are still very personal and internal. In Batman Begins, he learns what it takes to be a hero and to do good. In The Dark Knight, he has to face the darkest depths of the human psyche, navigating the tightrope between good and evil (personified by the portrayal of the Joker and Harvey Dent). In The Dark Knight Rises, he begins aged and worn - cocky from his success years past - and like a good Rocky film, he is beaten and must build himself up again. The most important element in each film is that (although he is an exemplary human being) he still has flaws and struggles with morality the same way we all do.

People need to be able to relate to what they see onscreen, even when it comes to villains. I love the portrayal of Bane in the third film because (as we find out at the end assuming you're paying attention) despite being a brick-shit house who can somehow carry a 200 pound man covered in armor around by the throat with one hand, everything he did to bring the city to its knees was done because he loved someone. While his actions were fantastical, the motivation for them was very grounded. It's easier to remain invested in a world if even the bad guys are understandable instead of dastardly evil just for the hell of it.

Empathy played heavily in the recent Superman reboot, Man of Steel, which ultimately divided audiences. I loved the film for the exact reason fanboys hated it. It was a drastic departure from the comics, which usually present Superman as a boy scout who always makes the right decision and never falters from his moral code. The majority of people I've talked to who disliked the film state this departure from the source material as their main reason for their distaste, but what they forget is that depiction of the character was presented not long ago in Superman Returns, by the same director who I'm now salivating over for his work on the newest X-Men film, and people flat-out hated it. Superman as he is presented in the comics isn't very interesting because he is so perfect. What Man of Steel gambled on (and which I believe ultimately paid off) is that they presented a flawed version of the character that made him extremely empathetic. In this new version he is an outsider struggling to fit in, trying to come to terms with his identity and responsibilities, learning who he is able to trust when it comes to his family, friends, and the place he calls home. That was the real story of Man of Steel - all the explosions and flying around was just butter on the popcorn.

It is this same strategy that is beginning to shine quite heavily in Marvel's onslaught of films. The Iron Man trilogy does an excellent job of presenting a man facing extreme challenges. Charming as Robert Downey Jr. is, the majority of his appeal in the third entry revolves around the anxiety and overwhelming pressure he feels after the events of The Avengers. After him, I have to say the Captain America franchise is my next favorite because Steve Rogers began as a scrawny boy looking to do good in the world before he's finally given the means to do so. Anyone who went through a massive growth spurt during puberty can relate (all of this nicely finds its way into the Spiderman films too). This is also why I find Thor to be the least appealing character in the Marvel lineup, because (like the comic book depiction of Superman) it's hard to identify with a god from another world with unbelievable powers.

X-Men seems to nail all of these empathetic nails on the head too. The entire franchise rests on the thematic core of outsiders trying to fit in and trying to find their place in the world, using the tools and skills they have to survive. People in real life don't need super powers to identify with that. Special credit must be paid to Hugh Jackman and his consistently excellent portrayal throughout each film in the franchise. Despite having appeared as Wolverine multiple times, he's always said he will only agree to reprising the role so long as the character remains interesting. His recent outing in The Wolverine did just that by presenting a character we'd already seen half-a-dozen times at his most vulnerable and most human (and undoubtedly, his most sexy . . . seriously, no man that age has any right to look that good).

And so this brings an end to my rant about superhero films. We love them because we idolize them. They tap into the deepest of our moral desires and present an idealized world where doing good ultimately results in a happy ending, instead of all the bullshit lunacy that happens in real life.

To tie this all back to my personal anecdote, I enjoy watching these sorts of films when I exercise because the process of working out is therapeutic to me - I'd almost equate it with meditation. It allows me to focus and relieve the stress of my life in a way that ultimately makes me feel like I'm bettering myself, and so I immensely enjoy having a movie regarding a hero striving to overcome their own stresses to become better than they initially are playing as background music.

Also, the majority of actors in those films are jacked as shit, which certainly helps keep the motivation up.

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