Man of Steel (Movie Review)

Even long before this new dark-and-gritty era of superhero filmmaking, Superman was considered by many an outmoded archetype. Does a clean-cut goody two shoes decked out in primary colors preaching the all-American way have a place among superheroes trying harder and harder to have social and historical relevance? The comics have addressed that very concern numerous times, and under producer Christopher Nolan, who brought Batman into a cinematic light never before seen, and director Zack Snyder, who has cultivated his own impressive resume of adult superhero fare in 300 and Watchmen, the difficult questions of Superman's moral standing and his role on Planet Earth are finally presented in film form. While the result is no stroke of genius, Man of Steel is a sometimes thoughtfully somber and often thrilling spectacle that admittedly takes a great number of cues from Richard Donner's landmark 1978 film (and it will be nearly impossible not to draw comparions), but also writing a few rules of its own.

The success of the film is largely in Henry Cavill, whose casting was not only inspired but revelatory. If Christopher Reeve was the twentieth century's definitive cinema Superman, the twenty-first may have already concretely found its own in Henry Cavill. Chiseled like a Greek statue with a smile as bright as his blue eyes, he carries the aura of a superhero effortlessly, and every moment he appears in costume is like an Alex Ross painting come to life. Amy Adams meanwhile may not quite fit the standard visual model of Lois Lane, but she brings the kind of disdain for authority and penchant for troublemaking that is expected of the character, and it's through this particular iteration that probably the biggest nuisance of the Superman franchise - particularly the movies - is done away with cleanly and logically, fulfilling one of the chief items on my wishlist for this film. The worst that can be said of Michael Shannon's General Zod is simply that he's no Terrence Stamp, but then that's the opposite of his intentions. This Zod is not a preening megalomaniac, but an engineered soldier following his genetic programming to what he believes is its logical conclusion and who doesn't blink at the means by which he means to do so. Yet for all the atrocities he's prepared to commit, there is an effectively communicated sense of heartbreak in him when he discovers Krypton's ruin, and again when his plans crumble before his eyes.

Russell Crowe and Kevin Costner create an interesting positive and negative as Clark's dual father figures; Crowe as Jor-El - who could have been solely a first-act cameo but actually has a substantive presence throughout the film - encourages openness with Kal-El's earthly powers to act as guide and savior to the human race, while Costner's Jonathan Kent cautions restraint, furthermore warning of difficult, even impossible decisions to come; this reasoning leads Pa Kent to a highly questionable measure of sacrifice, but one that serves as a primer for Superman having to decide between acting and staying his hand, and thus between life and death.

What will easily be the biggest point of contention between fans and critics of the film, though, is the middle ground between those lessons and the choice it leads Kal-El to make. While a certain degree of outrage is expected - I myself did a double-take - the act in question not only bears precedent within the comics, but was a necessary step in order for Superman to be taken seriously in the contemporary film world. It also lays the groundwork for further moral debates surrounding the use of Clark's powers…as a certain bald billionaire criminal mastermind is likely to initiate once he joins the inevitable sequel.

For all the familiar territory Man of Steel treads in Superman's origin, it regularly attempts to sprinkle new material throughout, starting with the very striking design of Kypton's alien world and its technology. The scenes make frequent use of a metamorphic nanotech display, the highlight being Clark's first encounter with the holographic Jor-El, in which the planet's history is recounted in dazzling storybook form. Additional insight, however slight, is provided on what led not just to Krypton's destruction, but the downfall of its civilization, the reasons why Earth was the planet of choice to send baby Kal-El, and his importance as truly THE Last Son of Krypton. Jor-El is also depicted as both man of science and man of action, effectively establishing the El family's predisposition for heroism and Clark's seeming obligation to use his powers to aid others.

From then on the recurring question is not whether Clark is a child of Krypton or of Earth, as Jor-El plainly states he IS both, but whether he CAN be both. And from that sense of uncertainty, Man of Steel gives us Superman's first real show of vulnerability without the benefit of Kryptonite; he finds not only his strength matched but his fighting ability surpassed by Zod and his lieutenants, led by the sultry Faora (Antje Traue), and the resulting scuffles are gloriously destructive, leaving both Smallville and Metropolis reduced to rubble in mile-wide stretches. The fights, while floating occasionally into shaky-cam country, are furious both in the air and on the ground, with hero and villain taking shots at one another that before one might only have seen in animated form.

While great attention is paid to the science and spectacle of Superman, there is still lacking in Man of Steel a certain element of magic, and this I attribute to the attempt at crossbreeding the very different film styles of Zack Snyder and Christopher Nolan, in effect disallowing the film from benefitting fully from Snyder's stylistic talents. The first causality is a glaring lack of what could have been a stellar and galaxy-sweeping opening title sequence as might be expected of Snyder (given his especial flashiness in this department in nearly all his films), opting instead for a simple text-on-black-background end credit roll in keeping with Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy. Furthermore, true to Snyder's claim, the film boasts zero of his trademark slow-motion shots, but this is not always to the film's benefit; with a firm restraining hand on the frame-rate button, a few choice slow-motion effects might have been welcome in displays of super-speed, a power used frequently in the second half's multiple hand-to-hand fights. The color scheme as well suffers from the Snyder/Nolan amalgam; the cinematography of Man of Steel is very cold and subdued, an additional disappointment considering Snyder's history of much more vibrant palettes.

Then there are script elements that simply don't work, despite writer David Goyer's good intentions, like Martha Kent's (Diane Lane) hammy "The world's too big, so make it smaller" pep talk after young Clark's senses-induced panic attack; or Zod and Superman's telepathic meeting of the minds, which neither fits the rest of the movie nor is ever used for anything else. Meanwhile, the "codex" MacGuffin, the blueprint of Kryptonian DNA Jor-El sends to Earth with his son, never feels as important as Zod's frantic search would have you believe, especially once the codex's actual location is revealed and it becomes entirely inconsequential. Finally, there's a certain lack of cohesion as the movie rolls on from one scene to the next, sometimes switching to a complete tonal opposite; this mostly isn't a problem, except during the final leg of the movie, where Superman's extreme world-saving decision is immediately followed with a humorous encounter with General Swanwick (Harry Lennix), where a little additional catharsis in between would have done the film a service.

Man of Steel will be for some the Superman film they've always wanted - a grimmer, more mature, action-heavy approach - and it benefits fully from technology and film sensibilities finally having caught up with the visual potential of superhumans waging war in the human world. While it lacks in character development for all but Superman himself, it stunningly, stylishly reintroduces the character to the world, opening up plentiful possibilities for him and his supporting cast in future adventures down the line, and does so refreshingly absent of obnoxious sequel-baiting.

Up, up, and away.