Superman

(4K) “Can you read my mind? Do you know what it is that you do to me? I don't know who you are. Just a friend from another star. Here I am, like a kid out of school. Holding hands with a god. I'm a fool. Will you look at me? Quivering. Like a little girl, shivering. You can see right through me. Can you read my mind? Can you picture the things I'm thinking of? Wondering why you are... all the wonderful things you are. You can fly. You belong in the sky. You and I... could belong to each other. If you need a friend— I'm the one to fly to. If you need to be loved— here I am. Read my mind.**” The granddaddy of them all. Superman is certainly anything but uncharted territory in my house, but it’s been more than a few years since I’d taken the time to sit down and take in the whole thing from start to stop. So, with this viewing, it really did kind of hit me anew just how much every single thing that has come in its wake really owes everything to it on a structural and narrative level. The skeletal system of what we now understand to be the modern superhero film really finds its origins here. Most explicitly, and most charmingly for a guy like me, Donner’s Superman epic is like incredibly explicitly the grandfather for what would become Sam Raimi’s groundbreaker with the wall crawler some twenty years later. You can certainly argue that it’s, perhaps, not what ignited the fire or wetted the appetite for more cape stuff (Burton’s first Batman was an obscene cultural phenomenon in its time and, again, Raimi kicked the floodgates open with his first Spidey) but it’s undeniably still the one that everyone tries to follow. At least, if they’re not trying to emulate the cool factor and the relentless “seriousness” of Nolan, they’re going for the whimsy and the enchanting nature of this one. And the most dazzling thing about Donner and his Superman, to me, is because it fits perfectly in that first incarnation of superhero movie where it was made specifically to focus on the character at the center of the concept. Deeply refreshing to see one of these unconcerned with setting up bullshit for the next fifteen movies (that, specifically in DC’s case, will probably never even happen) and to instead just focus on making one great film about the entire treasure trove they’ve been given to play with. Kind of stunned at how much of Superman’s identity and ins-and-outs get addressed and represented here. There’s an extremely deft understanding of the character and his world that a lot of its successors within the genre over the next decade and change never truly bothered with. Burton’s initial Batman film isn’t what I’d call a bad adaptation of the character, but it certainly twists and bends the material to suit the needs of the film. And that’s fine, and I think something that a filmmaker is entirely within their rights to do in pursuit of the art that they want to make. But Donner takes Superman as a piece of American pop culture and fantasy and embraces it and makes something grand and sweeping and operatic about it. All the stuff with the tights and the costume and the heroics and the hydrogen bombs and the underground evil lair is inevitably, inescapably silly. But the film accepts that and embraces it and presents it as something special and new. They’re the first people to show you Superman, backed by all the spectacle and support of a major Hollywood production, on a big screen and they’re proud of that. Hard not to get a little weepy at the grandeur and the sense of loss and tragedy in the film’s opening depiction of the destruction of Krypton. Brando sells it in a brief but really excellent performance, and it’s almost comical how much earnest and sincere his final parting words to his infant son are here than they are in another film that comes much later. Some of the stuff that I always get the most sentimental about are the early proceedings in Smallville. The death of Jonathan Kent is a story that always tears me up inside in almost any interpretation and Glenn Ford, like Brando, does so much with quite little. That gentle but firm hand on the back of Clark’s neck before wrapping it around his shoulders is such an understated but deeply moving gesture that resonates with me so much. That shot of Martha and Clark in the field when he tells her he’s gotta leave. Absolutely spellbinding, melancholic filmmaking. Geoffrey Unsworth shoots the whole film with this gleaming, glistening layer of beauty. With time, it’s lended the film this very nostalgic and comforting energy. All the stuff in Metropolis especially feels dreamlike and as if it all came out of a fairy tale. One of the best ensemble casts to stick in that fairy tale, too. Impossible to say anything about Chris Reeve that hasn’t already been said a million times over. Really is one of those rare cases where an individual actor can stake their claim on a character and role that will, very obviously, never truly belong to any one single person. He’s the gold standard for the Man of Steel even all this time later and it’s hard to imagine that anything’s going to suddenly change that now. The dichotomy between his Clark and his Superman is breathtaking. He has this incomparable ability to make them feel like two distinguished personalities, at times even in the same frame. Most importantly, though, his chemistry with Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane is just dazzling. Electric and sexy in one of the more campy and lighthearted romps of a superhero movie. The kind of lip biting, grin inducing back-and-forth on full display during that interview scene on her balcony. The kind of sensuality and actual romance that the genre has sorely lacked for some time. Precursors to the lingering yearning and gentleness of Maguire and Dunst. That whole scene is the film’s biggest accomplishment, for me. I’ve always thought of Superman (again, like Spider-Man) as a love story first and foremost. The chemistry between your Clark Kent and your Lois Lane makes or breaks your Superman story, by my metric. If they don’t work, the whole thing doesn’t work. And it works tenfold here. Chemistry bleeding out of the corners of your screen. The lip biting and the lingering stares and his hands on her body and (especially) the famished and fascinated stares Kidder hits him with as both Clark and Superman do so much for me. I love how, regardless of which persona he’s portraying in the moment, Lois elicits such softness and tenderness and vulnerability out of him. I could watch them fly together forever. Perfectly offset by how much of a shitheel Hackman’s Lex is. The man constantly brags about how smart and evil he is, I love how much he genuinely seems to enjoy being an asshole. Hackman’s absolutely having a ball. The kind of performance that earns so much of your respect because one has to consider how unproven and stupid this all must have seemed at the time, and yet he sinks his teeth into the role and totally commits to it. That little head shake he gives in dismissal of Tessmacher’s plea for her mother is absolute shitbag behavior, perfect for Lex Luthor. Film’s also far more emotionally complicated and nuanced than I think it often gets credit for. Admire a lot how the story cruxes on Superman, a character who has been presented as completely unselfish and unaware of even his own full power, making a decision to act selfishly. And even that choice is made to save a life. I love that he agrees to save the mother of the woman who helped try to drown him because she made him promise. I love the small detail about Clark sending half of his salary home to his mother. That shot of Lois coming out of her room and not seeing his face because you find out you’re looking at a mirror is brilliant. Could go on and on. A million little things that make this one of the best superhero films, still, all this time later. That John Williams theme is about as close as anybody could hope to ever encapsulate the character sonically. Every time Jor-El finishes his monologue about Earth and man and their capacity for good and you see that distanced, somewhat obscured shot of Reeve (for the first time) in that costume, something in my chest aches. As if I’m seeing something special beginning to take form. You really do believe a man can fly. “There's a strong streak of good in you, Superman. But then nobody's perfect... almost nobody.”