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Health & Fitness

Movie Review: Man of Steel

Man of Steel is too incoherent to be entertaining, too self-important and manipulative to be taken seriously.

It’s reached the point where it seems as if every month, some box office record is being broken. And, more often than not, it’s some kind of superhero movie that’s doing the record setting. Man of Steel officially set a new June record with its massive opening this past weekend. Hollywood blockbusters have, in large part, reached a level of seeming anonymity, where last month’s big winner is replaced by a vaguely similar one this month. Far better films routinely go unrecognized because the marketing powers that be equate “entertainment” with an all out sensorial assault.

Let me clarify – it isn’t that every film with a bloated budget is a bad one. Christopher Nolan’s filmography is one prominent example of that. As such, Nolan’s producers credit on Man of Steel brought with it a helping of added credibility that was perhaps misplaced from the beginning. Aside from a story credit (and maybe even including that credit), Nolan’s influence is nowhere to be found. What’s interesting is that the film seems to also lack the identifiable stamp of its director, Zack Snyder. Snyder has his fair share of detractors, but even his critics would have to admit that the director’s previous films were at the very least visually interesting. Man of Steel actually left me pining for the older, slightly better Snyder.

Jumping back and forth between past and present, Man of Steel gives us the now familiar origins of the well-known superhero as well as his current search for personal identity. If we were to put the events chronologically, we would see Kal-El (otherwise known as Clark Kent) as he’s jettisoned from his home planet of Krypton by his parents only a short while before the alien world is destroyed, followed by his rural upbringing dominated by a father convinced that humans are not yet ready for what Clark has to offer, followed by his necessary (forced?) self-acceptance as a group of Kryptonians invade earth with a plan to rebuild their home planet.

It’s hard to even locate a starting point when it comes to Man of Steel, so how about we just begin the fact that it’s shockingly terrible. Conspicuously aiming for little else than becoming the next in the ever-growing line of noisy action movies, Man of Steel tries to hide behind phony drama and self-important somberness. It pretends to be concerned with creating emotional human drama out of an inhuman character. The flashback scenes with Clark and his father (played by Kevin Costner) are at the forefront of this effort, but they are incredibly one-note, with virtually each sequence serving the same purpose. The expository dialogue that occurs throughout these attempts at character building (and even in many of the later, present day scenes as well) is lazy on its face, and is often so corny that it becomes laughable.   

The problematic becomes the insulting as Man of Steel’s finale resorts to overt manipulation in an attempt to remind us that this is apparently a dark and emotional tale. The overall civilian death toll that occurs during the final battle is in the tens if not hundreds of thousands of people, yet Snyder and screenwriter David S. Goyer have the audacity to suddenly shift the focus to seven basically unknown individuals as if to prove that life somehow matters here. It’s phony. And the predictable, expected romance between Superman and Lois Lane might be the least deserved plot development that has occurred on screen in 2013.

I would imagine it’s difficult to act in any sort of convincing fashion when you’re hampered with poorly written dialogue, and even harder when the filmmakers aren’t the least bit interested in allowing you to do so. Henry Cavill, who completely looks the part, isn’t really given anything to do outside of the action, and at times feels like a near non-presence in his own story. Kevin Costner and Russell Crowe are fine even though they exist to walk around and quietly repeat random philosophical musings, and Amy Adams’ arch feels so incomplete that it’s tough to even remember her contributions.

The one exception is Michael Shannon, whose hammy performance as the villainous General Zod gives the film a semblance of a heartbeat. If good for nothing else, let’s hope that Man of Steel gets Michael Shannon, one of the best and most underappreciated actors currently walking the planet, the widespread recognition he deserves.  

Some (certainly not all) of its failings might be forgivable were Man of Steel the least bit fun. But it’s not. The most visually appealing moments come and go, often in a literal blur, and as the action set pieces get larger and larger, the incoherency of everything that occurs on screen becomes more and more frustrating. The tightness with which Snyder and cinematographer Amir Mokri shoot much of the more frantic action makes it damn near impossible to determine which characters are doing what, and where they are doing it. They do, however, manage to frame their blatant product placements quite nicely, which, to quote David Lynch, is “total f***ing bulls**t.” 

I could continue rambling about Man of Steel’s long list of issues, but there’s no real purpose. By the time it reached its long overdue conclusion, the movie had left me cold, bored, and angry. Perhaps my frustration is forgivable, given that Fast 6 is by far the most entertaining studio film of the summer thus far (that’s perhaps an unnecessarily backhanded complement, as I really did enjoy that movie).

There are many, many people who will thoroughly enjoy Man of Steel. That’s the nature of a subjective art form. But it’s mind boggling to me that anyone could derive any pleasure out of such a joyless experience.

3/11

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