You Will Believe

Rating: 9/10 (26 June 2013)

Superman is Jesus. This thematic subtext is hardly new. But Superman as a Jesus who only reluctantly accepts his mantle of saviour of humankind, and inwardly harbours a childish bitterness and resentment? A Superman who maliciously enjoys the secret thrill of being able to let loose and finally hit back, channeling decades of repression and bullying trauma into a succession of world-shattering punches, released with gleeful abandon? Much more Scorsese Jesus than Jesus Christ Superstar. This, as the inevitable comparison has it, is a far cry from the venerated days of Christopher Reeve.
To say this is a Superman who speaks to this day and age would be retreading a cliché already ground into redundancy from overuse. The temptation to run rampant with clichés such as "More 'Superman Begins' than 'Superman Returns'" is overwhelming. And, yet, such clichés are the stock that heroes are born of, and continually validated by. Zack Snyder and David S. Goyer are both certainly fearless in tapping into the essence and mythos of the character, navigating clichés of classicism and 'dark and gritty reboot' ethos with grace and tact. Indeed, to say this the first Superman film that fully, satisfyingly, explores not only the cultural function of Superman but plumbs the depths of Kal-El/Clark Kent himself would not be an overstatement.
Man of Steel is, if nothing else, overwhelming. The film is a relentless sensory overload, a breathless symphony of dazzling special effects, staggering scope of destruction (The Avengers now takes second place in collateral construction damage), and brutal, kinetic and frequently airborne fight choreography. From the first minutes, boldly opening with Russell Crowe's Jor-El riding a space dragon amidst the explosions of the dying planet Krypton undergoing a military coup. Already, Man of Steel has delivered one of the best (albeit microcosmic) sci-fi films in years. And, by this point, there is more than another two hours to go.
It scarcely slows down, only hitting the pause button to allow dual dads Crowe and Kevin Costner (both as good at frowning and grunting as ever) to deliver stern monologues ratcheting Kal/Clark between divine purpose and personal choice. It also scarcely quiets down, as Hans Zimmer's magnificent score continuously bludgeons the audience with horns, drums and strings enough to leave the most desensitized audience member gasping for breath. Stunning is the word at hand, as seldom before has watching a movie felt so much like a workout. This is far from a bad thing, but hardly a relaxing watch.
Nor, as most reviews have taken great pains to express, is levity on the table. Gone is the frivolity of Gene Hackman's prancing Lex Luthor and the bumbling slapstick of Reeve's Kent. This is a Superman prone to gritting his teeth rather than flashing toothy grins. Again, this is not a bad thing. The 'Nolan influence' is overwhelming, as the film even echoes the non- linear flashback structure of his seminal Batman Begins. Equally, intentionally or not, the film alludes to countless offerings from rival company Marvel, from the 'enhanced senses overload' purloined from Daredevil to the palpable glee of experimenting with powers of Spider-Man to military banter reminiscent of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer to flying shots lifted directly from Iron Man.
However, Man of Steel is far from a derivative mess. In lieu of jokiness is enough sentiment to flood Metropolis. Melodrama too, granted. It is interesting to notice the film's unabashed embracing of the character being appropriated as an American cultural icon (one jaw- dropping Freudian slip minimizes Superman 'acting in the world's interests' into 'acting in America's interests'). But it is hard not to be pounded into willful submission by the film's incessant pace and noise into full embracing of the deluge of big, loud sentiment and purpose. Man of Steel hits hard, but hits undeniably true.
It will be quiet the challenge to un-see Henry Cavill as Superman, as with past examples of the role resulting in extreme-typecasting-turned-career-stunting (poor Brandon Routh). However, Cavill's sublime embodiment of one of the trickiest characters to sell demonstrates an actor of extreme talent rather than limited range. As much as Cavill owns every angsty grimace and serene smile, it is the gleeful abandon he shows when 'letting loose', whether flying around the planet at top speed or bludgeoning Kryptonian adversaries, that truly calcifies his humanity. Amy Adams does her considerable best with feisty reporter Lois Lane, but is still limited by underwritten characterization that leaves her inclusion often feeling like an afterthought. There is no doubt, too, that audiences will take some acclimatizing to Michael Shannon's screaming, spit-spewing performance (his "I WILL FIND HIM!" scene, while fated to become almost as meme-worthy as Terrence Stamp's "Kneel", is still a bit much), yet there is no doubt his unflinchingly resolute Zod is entirely right for the film, and a more than worthy adversary. Diane Lane's quiet performance, conversely, is a tremendous asset, providing much needed warmth and whimsy to the film as Clark's beloved 'Ma'.
Man of Steel is not a perfect film. The pacing and exposition often stumble over themselves (how exactly does Crowe's space-ghost work exactly? Never mind), and, ironically, the moments of attempted, shoehorned-in humour are often the film's weakest (Lois' thoughts on first kisses proves an unintentionally comic non-sequitar). But, as Snyder and Goyer are careful to stress, Superman is not perfect either. And, like Superman, it is easy to get swept up in the overwhelming desire to invest in the iconicity of a hero, and forgive the inevitable shortcomings. You will believe a man can fly. You will believe a hero capable of unspeakable violence. And you will believe in him, and his movie, nonetheless.
-9/10