Comic books

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a gigantic comic book nerd. I have a giant comic book collection, dozens of sketchbooks full of fan art, and I probably know more about the history of the Marvel and DC universes than I do about the history of the world. That being said, I've never really given much thought as to why I like comic books so much. They've been a part of my life for so long that I've always taken their presence in my life as a given; I've never really stopped to consider how they got there to begin with.

But then I read about a comment that John Malkovich made, regarding why he turned down the role of the "Green Goblin" in the first Spider-Man film after it was offered to him. While the exact quote escapes me, the essence of what he said was Spider-Man was 'a business film and not an acting film', and that he had little interest in participating in the former. After reading that comment, I was quite surprised. It really got me to thinking about why these characters are so enduring and popular. While I don't doubt that there are substantial amounts of money to be made from comic book films, to assume that these movies exist only to make money is......well.....snobby.

Comic book films appeal to me (and, I imagine, to others) for a lot more reasons than just the "OMG ITS SPIDERMAN FOR REALZ!!1" aspect of such films. They appeal to me for the same reasons why the comic books themselves appeal to me; the characters. To me, Spider-Man is an interesting character, as is Batman, Iron-Man, and so on. I suppose there is a bit of an "adolescent power fantasy" aspect to super heroes that appeals to certain people, but that's just a surface-level aspect to it all. There is a very important, and obvious, question that the concept of a Super Hero brings to mind: what posses someone with amazing abilities to put on a mask and fight crime instead of using their abilities to get rich and famous? The process that leads them to make that decision is one that I have always found interesting. Now, of course there is a part of me that thinks it's ridiculously awesome to actually see spidey swinging from skyscrapers, Iron-Man flying through the air, or Batman brooding on a rooftop, but that's just one layer as to why these characters have always fascinated me. Let's take Spider-Man, for instance. Peter Parker is a great example of an ordinary guy thrown into an extraordinary situation; a freak accident happens, and afterwords he finds that he has amazing abilities. And just like an actual person, putting on a costume and helping people is not the first thing that comes to mind as to what to do with those abilities. Like many people would do, Peter, at first, tries to make some money with his abilities. Sure, he does decide to become a "superhero" eventually, but it's only after personal tragedy, one that he could have prevented, that he realizes how big of a responsibility it is to have such abilities. Initially, Peter decides that he'll use his new-found strength and agility to become a professional wrestler. In the beginning it goes well--despite the size advantage that the other wrestlers have on him, his abilities allow him to beat his opponents every single time he steps into the ring. One night, while Peter is in the locker room getting changed after a match, a robber runs past him at full speed, having just stolen some money from the wrestling promoter. A policeman runs past as well, chasing the thief and begging Peter to help him apprehend the criminal, but Peter does nothing, saying simply "It's not my problem." When Peter returns home that night, he finds that after the thief left the scene of his first crime, he went on to rob, and then murder, his Uncle Ben--the man who raised Peter from the time he was a baby. Peter realizes, then, that if he would have stopped the robber in the first place, then his Uncle would still have been alive. It reminds him of a something that his uncle told him when he was younger: "With great power, comes great responsibility." Peter then realizes that it is his responsibility to use his powers in a way that contributes to the world rather than for personal gain.

His journey towards becoming a costumed hero is one of character development. And that's really what, to me, these types of movies (and books, and comic books) are all about--interesting stories about how ordinary people deal with extraordinary situations. Even a character like Superman is an example of this story--how does a farmboy from Kansas deal with being the most powerful being on the planet when he grows up and suddenly has to exist in a world that's a lot bigger than the farm he was raised on? How does someone who can knock a planet out of orbit with his bare hands deal with having to control himself so he doesn't accidentally crush someone to death when all he's trying to do is give them a hug, or controlling how firm his handshake is so he doesn't shatter someone's hand? Moreover, after finding out that not only is he an extraterrestrial sent to Earth as a child, he's also the last living member of his race. No one else to relate to, no one else to get advice from as to how to deal with his abilities. And what does he go through that leads him to put on a costume and use his abilities to protect the world, when living his own life is complicated as it is?

So of course there is plenty of money to make with films based on comic books. And it may even be the case that the only reason some hollywood executives greenlight these movies is because they know they'll make lots of money. But the reason why these movies make so much money is because of all of the things that I have been talking about.

So my message to Mr. Malkovich is this: you are way off base in claiming that Spider-Man was simply a "business" film and nothing more, sir.

Words.

Updated on 2/06/12

Words are funny things.

The words that made up the blog entry that once graced this page were not my own. I wrote them with my fingers, but someone was over my should the entire time, directing me what to say. And being made to write those words was one of the first things that made me begin to question if I actually meant them when I had said them before. The realization I came to quite immediately was that I never quite knew what any of those words meant in the first place. This is something that is reinforced doubly now, being that currently I know exactly what those words mean, and that at the point when I wrote those, I didn't mean them by any stretch.

Words are powerful things, but it's never a good idea to put something out there connected to yourself, in words that aren't your own.

So that's why I deleted the entry that was here, and replaced it with this - words that do belong to me.

500 Days of Summer

500 Days of Summer could most readily be classified as an indie movie. Something I've noticed about a lot of the "indie movies" that I've seen is that some of the time they try so hard to be quirky and different that they forget to actually tell a story. Other times, the writer tries so hard to give their characters a unique voice, that everything they say just sounds ridiculous. The most common pitfall that comedic indie movies tend to fall into, however, is that the filmmakers get so caught up in high-concept comedy, that most of the comedic moments tend not to be very funny. So, when I went with my Fiancee to see 500 Days of Summer, I wasn't quite sure what I was in for. The theater was packed with a lot more people than I was expecting to show up for a late-night showing, but nonetheless as the previews ended and the "fox searchlight" banner flashed across the screen, I couldn't help but wonder which pitfall 500 Days of Summer would fall into. As I made my way through the film, however, I found that, miraculously, it didn't fall into any of them. The comedic moments are funny. The dialogue is unique, but not ridiculous. Most importantly though there is a very clear, and very clever, plot.

The film tells the story of the relationship a man, Tom Hansen, has with a woman named Summer Finn, and how the 500 days that he is involved with her completely changes the course of his life. Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Tom, and he's absolutely brilliant in the role. Levitt's Tom isn't loud and obnoxious, or the straight man, or the lovable idiot, or any of the other character-stereotypes that so many comedies are riddled with; he is a REAL PERSON. He doesn't hate his job, but he doesn't love it either, he doesn't hate his life, but it's certainly not the life that he expected to be living post-college. And when he meets Summer, he doesn't stroll over and spout out a pick-up line, he doesn't make a bet with his buddies about whether or not he can bed her and end up catching feelings in the process of attempting to add her as a notch to his belt. The relationship (or at first the lack thereof) between Tom and Summer evolves organically, in a way that is completely believable. Most romantic comedies follow a very specific formula and as a result the relationships between the characters in these films often turn into little more than plot devices designed to push the film to the end credits. This is not the case with this film. The relationship between Tom and Summer is a character in and of itself, and one of the most important ones at that; it has an effect on every other character in the film in some way, providing character development at every turn.

This movie isn't a slave to "the formula", but it is by no means a "downer" either. So if you've manged to stumble across my tiny corner of the internet then I urge you: go see 500 days of Summer, as soon as possible.