Superhero Movies That Don't Suck and The Super-basic Reasons Why

When I picture successful Hollywood writers, I picture pony-tailed film majors with bleary eyes behind their glasses, hunched into screens. They quote Proust at parties without irony, and when someone pours them wine they swish it around and sniff and say something like "hints of autumn" before sipping.

Part of me knows they're just people, but there's always that part of you that can't quite think of the other except in generalized terms.

One of the reasons I picture successful screenwriters as being out of touch is the work they produce. You look at any big budget flop and wonder, "How did they forget writing 101?" They had support. They had a budget. They had a team behind them. For those of us writing on our own, it's unfathomable how anyone with so much talent and support could fail.

There may be a lesson in there about too many cooks, but I can only speculate about that. Given the magnificent floppitude of some recent hero films, I thought it would be worth a back-to-the-basics analysis. Here are three basic writing principals that good superhero films follow and bad superhero films forget:

1.) The plot must challenge the protagonist.

2.) The protagonist must be somewhat vulnerable in order to establish audience empathy.

3.) The plot must have consequences for the characters.

Which brings us to the Superman dilemma. How can anyone relate to a flying tank with laser eyes? The Superman dilemma is a big reason why he's had one good movie in what seems like 40,000 attempts. 1980's "Superman II" worked because it followed the above principles. Although Superman was still nearly indestructible, he was faced with three villains who shared his powers. The antagonists were crafted with the knowledge that they must challenge the protagonist. These villains knew that Superman's caring for the squishy mortals below was his real weakness, and they made every effort to use it against him. In the end, he had to outsmart them before he could use brawn, and the plot benefited by making him win by using something other than his primary asset (strength).

The first Avengers movie worked for the same reason. When I first heard it was going to be all the Avengers vs. Loki, I didn't buy it because it seemed like a mismatch. (Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, and two professional assassins vs. the Norse God of mischief?) The writers used in-fighting and an alien army to balance the equation, and the results were stellar. Wiseass Tony Stark had to discover a bit of his inner Captain America to make the save at the end. Banner had to trust himself enough to unleash the Hulk. The plot challenged them by taking them out of their comfort zones, making the plot consequential.

"Captain America: The Winter Soldier" was the last good Avengers movie. I couldn't have cared less about the sub-plot with his brainwashed friend, but the writers used a real-life modern fear very effectively: the agency we made so powerful to keep us safe turned on us. When the previously established (as heroic) hovering aircraft carriers turned into fascist drones, it was legitimately terrifying, particularly the scene that showed the Hydra algorithm erasing any line between dissident and "terrorist". Again, the plot was consequential. At the end of the movie, Shield was destroyed, so the movie mattered. Age of Ultron sucked, despite James Spader's amazing performance, because nothing changed. Franchise-ism negated the idea of an important character death, and killing Quicksilver felt like retaliation for his having the best scene in a far superior X-men movie. (A movie that also did time-travel in a consequential way.)

Speaking of X-men, notice how even nearly-indestructible Wolverine works better than Superman, because he has a broken heart and feels pain, even if he does recover quickly from the latter. The worst X-men movie is probably 2006's "X-men: The Last Stand", because it just tried too hard. If you kill everyone, no one death stands out. But even that movie towers over all of the disposable Avengers cash-grabs. They (along with the solo Wolverine movies, now that I remember them) don't work because nothing that happens in them has any consequence. If you've seen "Iron Man", "Avengers", and "Captain America: The Winter Soldier", stop.

There are other great superhero movies that succeeded because of basics, such as the Nolan Batman trilogy. Batman is effective because he's tortured and vulnerable--the fact that he feels pain makes his sacrifice for the people he's protecting meaningful. Even in "The Dark Knight Rises", the writers realized Batman needed to be hobbled in order for him to have something to overcome. Bane breaking his back was a nod to comic book enthusiasts, but it also allowed the villain time to shine, making his comeuppance that much more rewarding (though it might have been better without that last minute switcheroo to a different antagonist). Taking Bruce Wayne's fortune away was also courageous. As was introducing Catwoman without an origin story, but by having her pretending not to be who she already was.

Also, the beginning of "The Dark Knight Rises" left no doubt that the previous two films had taken their toll on Batman's body and psyche. Batman's existence in the first film created the Joker in the second. His Pyrrhic victory over the Joker left Batman a bitter, battered, and reclusive martyr to begin the third installment. Each film had consequences for the next, which is why that trilogy will still look good in thirty years.

It must be difficult to get back to the basics when a billion-dollar franchise is on one's back. But the basics are there for a reason. It's worth noting that the hero franchises that hold peoples' imaginations over long periods of time are also the ones that made audiences care about their plots and characters. They accomplish this by challenging their heroes and making what happens in their stories matter.

White Rage (and the Orange Thing)

My first encounter with working class white rage was in 1990. My best friend Derek and I were being driven by his father to go see then-W.W.F. Champion the Ultimate Warrior defend his gold bald eagle belt against "The Macho King" Randy Savage. (Yes, we knew it was staged. No, we didn't care.) The truck told me Derek's dad worked construction, and that only added to his coolness. Being twelve, and a pro-wrestling fan, I thought it was amazing being driven in a vehicle where all these potential murder weapons slid around every time he came to a sudden stop.

Before Road Rage had a cute nickname, Derek's dad had a full-on tantrum, including threatening to bludgeon to death a woman who cut him off. (He did have the right of way, to be fair.) Then he was going off on the damn taxes, and how you couldn't even take your kids out for a good time anymore without getting ripped off. He almost took us home. Thankfully, we talked him off the ledge and we got to see Warrior lose by count-out. (Tangent: we also met the Big Boss Man.)

If you remember 1990, George H.W. Bush was president, and boy does he look moderate compared to the slobbering remains of the current Republican establishment. He knew better than to remove Saddam and create I.S.I.S. He broke his promise not to raise taxes because the government needed revenue and he was an adult pragmatist rather than a dead-eyed free-market zealot. And the economy he inherited was really just Reagan's bills coming due and aftershock from the deregulation-fueled crash of '87. Bush Sr. has even been an excellent ex-president.

Unfortunately, he did little to undo the radical deunionization, merger madness, and deregulation hysteria that led to my first encounter with working white rage. What struck me most about Derek's dad was how nice he was the entire rest of the night. I was a bookish queer dweeb. He was supposed to hate my guts. Instead, he made small talk about school and wrestling and sports in a way that didn't seem forced or awkward.

He had every right to be mad, but he wasn't political or well-read, so he had no idea where his anger belonged. He knew he was working harder than ever for less money, and if he's still in construction, I can only imagine his rage growing tenfold. Even 26 years ago, when Reaganomics were only a decade old, he knew he was mad, but he had no idea where to aim it. And the dark lady in the next car was an easier target than the wrinkled white fuckers who were actually responsible for the policies eating his wallet. He was overtaxed, (because "only the little people pay taxes", if you're old enough to remember...) and that was part of the problem, but the far larger problem was that he was underpaid for his labor. Illegal immigration played a role in that, to be sure, but illegal immigrants weren't the ones demanding cheap labor to satiate their greed. Like Derek's dad, they were desperate and exploited.

I wonder if he's still being convinced to rage in the wrong direction. I wonder if he's thrown his support behind a certain empty hairpiece...

Consider the contradictory beliefs you have to unironically hold in order to be a Trumpette:

The system is inherently unfair/I will inevitably be a billionaire too one day, and so I vote for tax cuts for the rich.

The elites ruined this country/We need a successful elitist businessman to solve Washington's problems.

The market is a mighty force of nature we all must defer to/The market is so frail it shatters the instant you regulate it slightly.

We need a non-intellectual "buddy president"/Non-intellectual "buddy president" George W. Bush was a disaster.

We're going to build a wall/Government spends too much money/No new taxes or debt/Mexico will pay for it without us undertaking a big expensive war to make them pay because _______?

To say nothing of the biggest lie: people who are good at business will be good at government. I propose the opposite. The skills it takes to enrich oneself might be the exact opposite of the skills it takes to act in the greater good.

I understand the logic behind these illogical thoughts. Believing all of these bad ideas is easier than believing the truth: Globalization was forced on us by both major political parties, and it isn't going to reverse itself overnight, even if we elect the "right person".


If you're a bookish liberal like me, what you see now at the orange head-white rage rallies scares the hell out of you. I understand the snarling resentment, I really do. We've been ripped off for decades, but does anyone really think politically powerless illegal Mexican immigrants ever had enough clout to infect the entire political landscape with the toxic philosophy of free trade? No. The powerful are supposed to be the most responsible by default. When we punish the weak for the crimes of the strong, we're just being bullies and tools.

Anger makes logic go bye-bye. The first victim of over-reaction is nuance. You can see it in the halls of any school. Big kid pushes medium kid, medium kid sizes up big kid and realizes he can't take him. So he levels the next small kid he sees.

I hate the ugliness of it: the appeal to that tiny part of each person only concerned with stacking cash and ammo as high as possible and starting every argument with "me" and "my". I hate how many working people are so focused on the dollars they lose in taxes, they miss the hundreds coming out of their base salary. Most of all, I hate how the radicalization and lobotomizing of the right has ended the potential for civil political conversation in so many circles. Everyone who isn't a billionaire has a right to be angry, but we really have to be more careful about where we aim it.

We are, in all seriousness, following a nasty hairpiece down a whirlpool. Please, let's not. I know the left also got sidetracked by corporate money. I know political correctness has spoiled into censorship in many places (college campuses, in particular). But electing a narcissistic amateur president would be an act of national suicide. Being disappointed in your kitchen isn't a valid reason for blowing up your house. Anarchy is not the alternative to our current oligarchy. Chaos is not a viable alternative to injustice. This one billionaire has no interest in ending the free-trade policies that have lined his pockets (and emptied ours) for 36 years. He isn't even trying to sell you a new deal, just an imaginary wall and some point-and-punch road shows. Our anger needs to be logical righteous indignation, or the worst of the orange head-white rage rallies could become the new normal.

That wrestling show, like George H.W., looks pretty damn dignified in retrospect.

-James

P.S. On a happier note, 2015's Saints and Sinners New Fiction from the Festival, featuring my story "Femorph", is up for INDIE FAB's book of the year award!

Taboo Thoughts: What I'm Writing

Every now and then I have a creative outburst. Here's what I've been up to:

Disposable Culture - A cyber-terrorist calling him(?)self the Luddite threatens to delete the internet while an ambitious F.B.I. investigator tracks him-her-they to Sunrise Island, a leper colony for the digitally disgraced (and one of my favorite surreal settings). As a teacher filmed yelling at a student, a bunch of white people who were filmed saying the n-word, and a douche of a tech guru assert their agendas, they are forced to take sides based on if they think we really were better off without "that carcinogenic distraction in our pockets".

A Colossus Stirs - In a series of cities in an Egyptian fantasy setting, everyone has a choice to live among savage desert tribes, or in the cities, where the drinking water is clean and the land is fertile. The price of city living is existence under the eyes of the colossi, who destroy cities when the gods are displeased. Of course, being the gods, they never tell you exactly how you earned your genocide. When a city falls for the first time in centuries, the leaders of the known world have to figure out what the gods want before the colossi leave all the world a barren desert.

And if you're a gamer it was inspired by "Shadow of the Colossus", which features one of the best plot twists in gaming history. 

Not a Real Boy - If we create artificial life, what do we owe it? Dr. Ava knows she isn't supposed to feel anything for Jep, the synthetic child she's raising. She knows the purpose for his existence is both essential and loathsome, but it will save "real" children. What does a creator owe her creation, if anything at all?

Billy Currock is Consumed - Paternal abandonment meets shark fin soup. And...scene.

His Fascist Ex - I'm dangerously close to halfway done with my third novel, where a has-been author watches the rise of the American Hitler from his bar stool. His story could derail his ex-boyfriend's ascension among the homophobic American right, but he's reluctant to tell it because of lingering feelings of guilt and loyalty. He is talked into telling his story by a handsome newcomer, who may be with one of the leftist militias or may be testing his loyalty on behalf of his powerful, and paranoid, ex.

The Zombie Apocklips Ain't for Queers - Virus, not undead, and the way the virus works is you can save yourself by passing it on quickly to someone else. As a side-effect, the person you sacrificed to save yourself will never stop hunting you. I wanted a personal zombie apocalypse. Also, the protagonist is gay and he finds refuge among the type of people who stored a lot of ammo and canned food (Trump voters who ain't too fond a lib'ral book learnin'). And the zombie tracking him is his husband. It's all about finding the courage to reach across the aisle to defeat a common enemy.

But the President still gets to appoint Supreme Court Justices without the Senate saying no to every possible nominee in advance. Let's not have any motherfucking confusion about that one.

-James Russell

P.S. and tiny author celebration: Thanks for getting me across the 5,000 view mark!

Let's Disagree in 2016

I have conservative friends, and we agree on very little. We bond over agreeable topics like sports and alcohol as a warm up to arguing, our real shared passion. Sometimes it gets heated and I'll question if my friends' arguments aren't a little too missile-happy and they'll question if my ideas aren't a bit naive. Or to put it in "Team America: World Police" terms, I'll say they're thinking like dicks and they'll say I'm thinking like a pussy.

The point is, we critique the ideas, not the person.

At some point, someone will casually suggest that we not talk politics. We're at a party. We should "keep it light". By this they mean gossip about the neighbors, like them. One thing my conservative friends and I agree on wholeheartedly is contempt for this suggestion.

As far as personal contempt, there is one type of person we can both agree on having nothing but spite for. This person is called "politically correct" but there are plenty of them on both sides of the aisle. This person is addicted to a drug that's hit the market slowly over the past few decades. The drug is fake indignation.

You know the type. They spoil every discussion by listening on the periphery, waiting for a chance to "be offended". Once they've declared their offense, loudly and in hyperbolic fashion, they inevitably hold their hands out.

What do they expect? A cookie? Tire coupons?

They expect apologies and reparations because you stated an opinion and they had a feeling. But unless your opinion was an outright declaration of racism (as in race A is always > than race B) or a "we ought to round up all the _______ people" and they're a ______ person, you likely don't owe an apology. You are allowed to have opinions. Other people are allowed to have feelings in response to your opinions. But their feelings do not inherently take priority over your opinions.

We should have a standard response for an indignation-addict when they hold their hands out: Congratulations on identifying your emotions, but you are not entitled to any form of compensation. Or, in the terms of the cosmic pessimism of Stephen Crane, "A man said to the universe, 'Sir, I exist.' 'I know,' the universe replied, 'but this has produced in me no sense of obligation.'"

The trouble with indignation addiction is that it puts vital debate in a deep freeze by creating toxic levels of self-censorship. Perhaps worst of all is what it's done to college campuses: the places where new ideas used to be born via free, passionate disagreement. Many comedians won't play college campuses anymore because the audiences are so uptight they're immune to comedy. That's tragic. Immunity to comedy is usually a hallmark of dictatorships and theocracies.

We always need to debate certain balances in our society. Taxation and government services will always be linked, so we will always need to debate the level of taxation and government services we need. Liberals are likely to remain suspicious of the profit motive while conservatives are likely to continue to revere it. We need to find a better balance between security and freedom. There are no solutions without discussing these topics civilly, without hair-trigger over-reactions and censorship based on emotion.

According to a recent Princeton study, we are now functionally an oligarchy rather than a democracy. We need to talk about that.

More Americans have been killed in the U.S. by lightning since 9/11 than by terrorists. Does this mean we should spend trillions on a never-ending war on clouds? We need to talk about that.

Right-wing Christian terrorists have killed more Americans in the U.S. since 9/11 than Muslim terrorists (48 > 45). We need to talk about that.

Most importantly, this is an election year. Contrary to many of my liberal friends, I want to hear everything the Trumps of the world have to say. I want them to reveal themselves via their free speech. They are, in effect, on a public job interview. The last thing I want them to do is shut up. I want to hear which candidates on either side promise massive infrastructure projects (expensive) and tax cuts (expensive) and a lower national debt (expensive) with no explanation of how that magic trick works. I love it when they show me they're lying because the promises they make contradict basic math.

Let's not allow our freedom of speech to be frozen by the imagined right of an emotional few to never be offended. Though our society isn't exactly suffering from an over-abundance of compassion, we can't let the feelings of a few end our most vital conversations before they even begin.

Sticking up for Downers

I need to vent about a disturbing trend. Frequently, the same tiny publishing houses willing to read unsolicited work also seem to want the work they receive to be "life-affirming". (The other variable at play here is I'm often sending work to gay publishers, but I've noticed it's started to bleed out into the mainstream as well.)

Where did this phantom obligation come from? I understand and accept my responsibility to be entertaining, to pull my reader's face down the page. I understand and cope with the fact that in our whiz-bang, lookey-here, squirrelly little world, the moment my story gets too info-dumpy or formulaic, people will be off to play Candy Crush or watch Youtube videos where cats do fun shit. And I understand the need for some kind of takeaway-moral-life lesson-theme-point.

But who says it has to be happy?

Disney and Pixar have to be happy (though admission of sadness played a big role in deepening "Inside Out"). Not even young adult literature exists under this burden. Why are so many of the gateway publishers asking newcomer authors to be artificially bubbly? There's a whole mask on the theater symbol dedicated to frowning. Tragedies are all over the canon.

In the gay publishing world, there's logic behind it, even if that logic is flawed. The idea is we can't be downers because we're already asking our readers to deal with gay, and their tiny little minds can't possibly do two things. But every talented author I've ever talked to about this, gay or straight, has always operated under the assumption that their readers, by virtue of being readers in an instant gratification culture, are fairly sharp people. Like these veteran authors, I'm disinterested in writing for dumbasses. They have coloring books, T.M.Z., and Trump. They're all set.

The music of Joy Division, Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, and Nirvana has endured, in part, because sadness is a thing. The tragedy-twinged music of The Wombats, Atlas Genius, and Anberlin is likely to endure for the same reason.

Gillian Flynn's books, and books like "We Need to Talk about Kevin" and "Brutal Youth" are sad as hell. They are indispensable specifically because of their attempts to wrestle with truly scary emotional material. Depression and suicide aren't by-products of exposure to sadness, they are by-products of pressure (internal and external; real and imagined) to hide sadness. Sad work often finds a "life-affirming" message via a back road. If a reader can learn from the success of a hero's virtuous choices, it stands to reason they can learn from the mistakes of weak and even vile characters. The assumption that readers can't handle the long road is cynical and destructive.

So gatekeeper publishers, please open your minds a bit more to characters who don't overcome, settings with all the inherent joy of Snake Mountain in "He-man", and endings where the hero bleeds out while reaching for the magic whatever. This joy requirement thing is anathema to creativity, and ultimately that type of damage to the form can't benefit the bottom line you might think you're protecting.

Why Liberals Shouldn't Rejoice in the Flatlining Republican Brain

So the Republican debate tonight has a certain freak show appeal. Watching it is like viewing a broadcast from some alternate universe where the Bush war in Iraq was a grand idea, Obamer is still a moose-lamb from Kenyer, and the President is also a Nazi who, like all Nazis, believes health care is a human right.

Except one of these assholes could be our president in 2016, so this isn't funny.

Presumably, Hillary won't drop the ball. She was smart enough to send a fundraising e-mail during the debate blasting the whole stage of goons for what they are. But before my fellow liberals get smug, I'd like to point out this bird can't fly with a dead right wing.

From the perspective of winning elections, it's lovely that Republicans have given up on evolution - not just the scientific principle, but every definition of the word. They're still advocating for a giant wall to keep the brown folks out - a giant infrastructure project brought to you by the people whose toxic philosophy won't allow them to invest in any infrastructure whatsoever. Also, they're going to do it without raising taxes or going into debt. Maybe the plan is to have Mexicans build it from the south and then just yell over the wall that we can't pay them because there's a wall in the way. Or maybe they want to continue their grand plan of making our country so shitty that no one wants to come here.

Where is the William F. Buckley? I disagree with his philosophy, but he at least attempted to use facts and figures to justify his agenda. Where are the conservatives who felt obliged to live in a fact-based reality? Where are the brains on the right? I'd settle for a P.J. O'Rourke - a conservative with a sense of humor who's willing to admit when his philosophy falls short.

But he's nowhere. Look at this stage. Reality-show bimbos. Entitled trust fund brats with grey streaks. Bullies having hissy fits, using bluster and volume in a vain attempt to hide their naked ignorance.

We deserve better.

And there's another reason this is no good. When Wall Street sees these amateurs for what they are, they pollute the Democratic party with their money, seeing us as the only adults in the room. We wind up with centrist Democrats who won't stand up to Wall Street when it matters, along with frothing, infantile Republicans. Then everyone loses faith in elected government and falls for the big lie: the private sector can do it better. This is how democracy slips into oligarchy.

If you're a Republican, have the dignity to be ashamed of these men. Your party deserves a fact-based candidacy. This country needs a legitimate adult candidate from both parties. I didn't support Obama when he was wrong about T.P.P. and torture. I worry that Hillary is too close to Wall Street. I know that Bernie, who I love, is unelectable. We have to be honest about the flaws our leaders display.

And if you want political comedy, try "The Campaign". Like most great comedy, it isn't totally joking.

Why You Should Still Love Game of Thrones

Hating Game of Thrones is the new loving Game of Thrones. Sometimes, I swear I don't want to keep up with our disposable culture.

SPOILERS ABOUND BELOW.

The most delicate balancing act in writing fiction is the one between realism and optimism. Get too real with your work, and people will be bummed out and stop reading or viewing. They have more entertainment options and less leisure time than ever, so they don't want you to depress them. They can be depressed at work.

On the other side, if a writer is too bubbly, they're irritating and not credible, but that's never been the extreme Game of Thrones was in danger of reaching.

I have two theories about Westeros: It's either a glorious metaphor for that too-real human inability to band together even in the face of annihilation, or George R.R. Martin hates Ren fairs and wants us to know. Let's explore the first theory.

The White Walkers are a metaphor for corporate greed, climate change, or if you're a conservative, the more whimsical "perils" of gay marriage and paying your fucking taxes like the rest of us. All the bickering, back-stabbing, and abuse of honorable people on the show is just a terrible reflection of a society unable to pull together to face a force of destruction that threatens everyone equally.

So that's a bummer. But as a viewer and reader, I don't care, because it rings true. We are, in fact, fucking the world right up. We are, in fact, paralyzed about what to do about it. Good for Martin and the television writers for wrapping this important call to action in an entertaining package.

I think realism should forgive a lot of the perceived sins of this show and book series. That Sansa scene that had everyone I know barking at one another over their draft beers at liberal dinner parties? I feel like the writers were in a bind. If you focus on the rape, you're exploiting peoples' pain. If you cut away to another character who's (technically) male, you're making it all about him. The only change they could've made would've been one of those "let's focus on this random candle" shots. And that's cliché, the worst crime in a world we apparently have to remind ourselves is fictional.

The feminist argument neglects the fact that Dany was exactly like Sansa at the beginning of the show. She was powerless, beautiful, and not particularly wise. But she learned and fought and got a little lucky with her friends. Isn't that how everyone makes it? They work hard, get lucky, and have support. Sansa is a hard luck character with very few resources at her disposal. She would be victimized in this world. Realism ought to forgive the perceived sin.

And let's give the television writers and directors some credit: all those "boring" early episodes built up to the best 1-2-3 punch HBO has had since the last three episodes of The Sopranos. (The point of the diner scene was that the family was always going to be waiting for the sword to drop, and I submit to this day it was brilliant.) The climactic action was great specifically because of the slow boil that preceded it. How many times did you re-watch the battle of Hardhome? How about Drogon and Dany in the arena? And Brienne finally avenging Renly!? The show might be doing a better job of resolving storylines than the book at this point.

On the other hand, look at all the people alive in the books but dead on HBO. I love that Martin was secure enough to let the show be an independent vision of his world. Yes, I know he's receiving roughly nine trillion dollars in return, but as a control freak, I still salute him. And I hope Stannis wins in the book and the two visions diverge completely. I would find each one entertaining.

As for the Ren fair thing, I was only half-kidding. Maybe Martin wanted to skewer our odd romantic re-imagining of Medieval England. Why did we ever look back on that age with any sense of whimsy? Plagues, rapes, poverty, pollution, death. That's our past, and it will be our future if we can't get our shit together.

So I'm not hopping off the bandwagon just because someone decided that's the trend. I love this world on television and in literature and if it ends with Dany and Tyrion failing to stop the White Walkers I'll stand up and salute the courage of writers who refused to pander to their audience just because hope sells. When Littlefinger said "There is no justice but what we make", that rang true to me. Perhaps if we evolve our expectations as readers and viewers, we'll get something better than predictable franchises and inferior reboots. Despite the trend toward huffy disapproval, I can't wait to see what dark place Game of Thrones takes me next.