Those of you who know me (who, let's be honest here, are really the only people reading this. I'm not ignorant to the fact that this sporadically-updated blog only has two followers, one of whom is my best friend and the other is his former roommate) know that I am not a fan of Mark Millar. I have nothing against him personally (he seems like a friendly guy and all), but I've read a great number of his works and have come to the conclusion that he's just not a very good writer.
What he is, though, is a good idea man. The guy knows how to come up with a fun-sounding concept and, better yet, he knows how to sell it. And I don't just mean to movie producers (the argument that his comics now read as little more than glorified storyboards is something else entirely - although not untrue). He knows how to sell his ideas to us, as readers. Millar's recent creator-owned projects are never something I just stumble across in the shop. They're things I've had hyped to me for months. And the thing is, I never really know what these books are even about until I've at least read the first issue. All I know is the pitch, which Millar has expertly boiled down to one sentence. Take a look at some examples:
"What if...
"...supervillains secretly destroyed all the heroes and ran the world?" (Wanted)
"...a normal kid decided to be a vigilante in the real world?" (Kick-Ass)
"...Batman were a supervillain?" (Nemesis)
Regardless of your opinions of the stories they spawned, don't those all sound like fun ideas? Millar sells me all his ideas on one high-concept sentence, something so simple that my brain will be left to fill in all the important details. That's the thing with high-concepts. They sell their story in the form of a question ("What if...?") and your brain provides an answer. That self-provided answer, which may or may not relate with the end-product, is what you're actually buying, not the story itself - at least in the initial stage. It's half of why Lost became so popular.
Now, I have no real problem with high-concept stories. In fact, they can be a lot of fun, and these pitches are a great way to generate hype. My problem is that it has become increasingly apparent to me that Millar waits as long as possible to move past that initial pitch sentence, and often his stories fall apart in the third act, if not sooner, because an adequate story could not be formed to suit his original pitch. In fact, I feel some of his recent stories, such as Nemesis, Kick-Ass, and even parts of The Ultimates, no longer fit the mold crafted in that original concept, often completely defying or (in the case of Kick-Ass) breaking it. Which is strange, since that "what if" question is often fairly broad.
But those are all rants for another day. Today, I want to vent about his most recent endeavor, Superior.
Wait. Hold on.
Sorry 'bout that.
So anyway, Superior's "What if" suffix goes something like "...Superman attempted to solve all the worlds problems?" At least, that's how it was advertised. There were several teasers such as those shown here, teasing an end to world suffering through a "hero". In the end, though, only one issue out of the seven (eight, if we want to note that the final was double-sized) really dealt with this at all. Superior #5 (over halfway through the series) had Superior talk to the President to help end the war in Iraq peacefully and then resolve a few other countries' problems. For maybe half the book. The rest dealt with Superior's rewards (Selfless hero? Please.), such as playing guitar with his favorite band and playing basketball. Speaking of basketball, the panel where he slam dunks is ridiculous.
So for a story promoted as "Superman solves real world problems", Superior really doesn't focus much on that concept. Again, this isn't me saying what would make a better story. This is what it was really promoted as.
So then what is the plot of Superior, you ask?
"Disabled kid becomes a superhero through a magic wish from a space monkey," I reply.
Alright, admittedly, anything can sound stupid when you distill it to just a few words like that (I am the guy writing stories about a mummified cowboy and his one-eyed horse). And there's a really neat idea in there...y'know, when you take out that ridiculous monkey bit. The kid, Simon, is basically like Captain Marvel of Shazam!, as opposed to Superman. Only with more swearing.
Just wait. This joke is going to be really clever in a minute.
It gives an interesting explanation for why this hero even thinks he can solve all the world's problems. Of course a kid would think he could just end all wars if he had superpowers (though if he got them, he'd probably just use them to goof off). They're young and idealistic and haven't yet been jaded by the cruel unforgiving world that doesn't appreciate their genius or laugh at their hilarious jokes and ex-girlfriends who didn't know how good they had it when I folded A THOUSAND PAPER CRANES FOR YOU AND--
Sorry 'bout that.
Even Simon, who has become crippled after developing Multiple Sclerosis, still has this young optimism to him. We hear that he's run away before, but it's implied that it happened when he was first afflicted. While he certainly doesn't enjoy the disease, he seems to have come to terms with making the best of it. So when he gains the powers of the hero Superior, he sees it as a chance to do more.
Like I said, there's a great story in there. A boy with a crippling and life-changing disease gains the ability to overcome it and aid those in need, proving he's not useless like he and others thought? Sounds heartfelt and inspiring, sign me up. So why am I not on board with Superior? Well, it's not about a kid with MS overcoming his disabilities. It's about a kid with MS becoming someone else.
Simon doesn't overcome MS because he stops having MS. And he's not "cured", he just transforms into someone else, who is essentially not Simon, that doesn't have the disease. It goes back to the argument recently about Barbara Gordon gaining the ability to walk again for the New 52. Granted, there's more to her story, but basically, Barbara was crippled and decided that losing the use of her legs wouldn't keep her from being a hero, leading to her transformation into the wheelchair-bound Oracle. She proved that she could overcome her disabilities and still be a hero through determination. And because of this, she became a hero for many with disabilities to idolize.
Mark Millar has done a lot of promoting through the book to raise awareness for those with MS and that is great. It's really excellent and I am in no way trying to take away from any of the good it does. But Superior isn't really a hero for those with MS any more than Superman or any other hero, because he is a concept built on just wishing your problems away. That's what comic book super heroes were designed to do in the first place. Any hero could have fit the bill. But if you want a hero to show you that you can achieve great things with the handicaps you have, you're forced to look elsewhere. That's why so many were upset with the retcon to Barbara Gordon.
Let me try to put it a way as best comparable to those without disabilities. Of all the popular comic book heroes, who is the best wish-fulfillment character for the average joe?
That's right. It's Batman. And why? Because, at his core, he is an attainable goal. Negate the wealth (which is still technically achievable) and he's just a guy that trained and studied really hard (like a "Boss", if you will). There's even a handbook out there with tips on how to do much of what the Dark Knight does. It's why the recent Christopher Nolan films are so successful. They get us to believe that Batman could be a real, straight-crazy dude in a cape. Exercise, study hard, and eat your veggies and you too can be a vigilante. Sort of. It's not perfect, but you see what I--
Wait. No. Don't shut up, Batman. This got even better. Because if not you, then the best candidate for the average (male) joe achievable fantasy is...
Ted Kord, the former Blue Beetle.
All the same qualities as Batman, but no ruined childhood, plus the best costume in comic book history. There's a magic scarab mildly involved, but he never got it to work for him. And sure he has an evil uncle. And his best friend's from the future. And I guess he was dead and now no longer exists in the nDCU. And I did say "popular" before...
Oh please, guys, just let me have this.
Now, I feel I should address that the argument could be made that Daredevil falls into the same category as Superior, since he has powers to aid him and becoming like him is therefore an unattainable goal for blind readers. But Matt is still blind, and of the few Daredevil stories I've read, the best deal with his blindness and how it still affects him. He still has that disability to relate to, at least. The most Superior does is, when he first gains his powers, reflect on how he used to be with MS and how better he is now. And that's my other problem with Superior.
He's better than you.
"Superior". It's the statement made in his name. While the character of Simon as Superior never really reaches any level of arrogance, the idea of this character and his story is based on him being better than us. Not even just those with MS, but everyone. Superior is superior to man in every way. He's powerful, he's handsome, he's kind, and we need him to save us.
He's better than you.
"Superior". It's the statement made in his name. While the character of Simon as Superior never really reaches any level of arrogance, the idea of this character and his story is based on him being better than us. Not even just those with MS, but everyone. Superior is superior to man in every way. He's powerful, he's handsome, he's kind, and we need him to save us.
Now, I'm not saying those with MS can't or shouldn't like Superior (at least no more than they should like anything else I don't like). But why him? Why someone whose story is essentially about being better than you? Why not someone who can make you feel empowered by being who you are? Do you really need that connection with the character who shares your exact disease? Because, like I said, Simon has multiple sclerosis. Not Superior. And if you're relating with Simon, then you're relating to someone who can just make their problems go away with a magic wish, rather than dealing with them. And it's not like he learns a moral about accepting who you are because you're great as you are. The moral of Superior is that you have to deal with your horrible disease because the price for life without MS is too high.
Because that magic wish was from an evil demon who wants your soul.
Sorry, did I not mention that part? Well, at least that Shazam/Satan joke makes sense now.
Yeah, that magic wish that Simon made was actually unwittingly making a deal with a demon.
But I'm kind of getting ahead of myself a bit. See, this whole article was supposed to just be me complaining about why Superior #7 was so bad, but my rambling style of complaining caused me to go off on a few tangents. Now, I'm finally reaching the point where I can get into #7 and why it was a terrible ending for an already unbearably bad series.
But first, if you'll allow one more delay, it's probably best that I summarize the story up to this point. I reread the entire series before working on this post. On about issue 4 I blacked out and woke up naked with a knife in my hand and someone else's blood on my chest, so forgive me while I take a breather and continue this tomorrow with PART 2.
No comments:
Post a Comment