On the Return of Superman

Appropriately or not, my notes on this film were written on old receipts, since I arrived at the film thoroughly expecting to be lulled into stupidity and without a notebook. Also appropriate, I think, is the fact that I put my notes into my borrowed copy of "Imperial Ambitions: Conversations with Noam Chomsky on the Post-9/11 World." This strikes me as one of those tasty little ironies that help me get through the day.

"Superman Returns" is indelibly a post-9/11 film, fraught with references to the war on terror, the civil war in Iraq, and the nationalistic patriotism of the US while recovering from the startling realization that we are, in fact, vulnerable. And like the country with which Superman is readily identified, the Man of Steel is no longer as steely as he might seem. He is weaker, permeable even, and lacking in the self-assuredness of his previous global dominance. However, in his big comeback special, Superman works his magic around the world, impressing people all over the world with his strength, his generosity, and his attention to the pain and suffering of the 'common people.' No job is too small, nor too big. He will work all manner of miracles in the name of truth and justice. Sound familiar?

When I heard that Superman was going to be back this summer in a new film, I could barely stifle my groaning disappointment. Another comic book film, another white WASP-y hero, another reincarnation of adolescent male fantasy dressed up in spandex. Wait, no, superheroes don’t wear spandex. They wear appropriately masculine reinforced rubber-plastic bodysuits, sometimes even with anatomically correct fittings - highlighted crotch or nipples anyone? But always appropriately heterosexually masculine. Unless you’re some Joss Whedon creation or a superhero of color. Then do whatever the hell you want, as long as you’re prepared to be branded a subculture or a one-off.

But back to Superman. Yes, he’s returned. From a five-year vacation to deep space where he attempted to recover the lost planet of Krypton, leaving poor Lois Lane and her broken whiny heart behind. When he returns, he magically gets his job back at the Daily Planet, where Jimmy the kid photographer, still wears that stupid bow-tie. Jimmy’s bow tie is emblematic of the baby boomer/postwar aesthetic employed by director Bryan Singer throughout the film. Superman comics were born in the 1930’s but came to pop culture prominence in the 1950’s. The styles of these twenty years are echoed in the film, most obviously in the building and interior design of the Daily Planet, but also in the homestead of Superman’s adoptive mother, and the flashback to his childhood (how can someone in their late 20’s/early30’s have grown up in the 1960’s?). The costuming of the characters also harkens back to this golden age of Superman, most notably in Lois Lane’s wardrobe, predominantly composed of high heels, pencil skirts, Lauren Bacall shoulder pads, and fingerwaved hair. She only lacks Rosalind Russell/Hildy Johnson’s fantastic woman-reporter hats.



About Lois Lane and Hildy Johnson. As my co-conspirator Art Ryel-Lindsey commented, why can’t we just have a female character in these movies that is actually as strong as we’re supposed to believe she is? Lois Lane is framed as hell-on-heels, a workhorse and a firestarter. A muckraker in the old-timey sense. Yet does she ever write anything except confessionals about how Superman suddenly appears on rooftops and carries her off into the stratosphere? Maybe she belongs to the Candace Bushnell school of journalism. On that note, are we really supposed to believe that Lois Lane won a Pulitzer for an article called “Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman.” That sounds like my second grade science report “Why Dolphins are Pretty.” Okay, I’m making that up. But as Frank Langella as Perry Smith, the chief of the Daily Planet, remarks, “Pulitzers are like the Academy Awards. No one remembers why you got one, just that you got one.” Or something along those lines; it’s hard to write in the dark. Apparently it doesn’t matter how crappy a writer Lois Lane is, just that she’s connected to Superman and the Pulitzer proves her devotion. This incarnation of Lois Lane makes me long for Hildy Johnson, the sharp, cracking female reporter who can run intellectual circles around her male colleagues and still look fantastic, even when standing next to Cary Grant.

And speaking of Cary Grant, Brandon Routh as Superman seems to be invoking those larger-than-life leading men, with the kind eyes and without the silly quasi-British accent. Yeah, Archie Leach, I’m talking to you. Routh does the best he can, I think, with what he’s given. Which is not much. Smile like you know more than other people, which you usually do, act befuddled around Lois, make lots of straining faces as you lift airplanes, cars, crystal-rock-asteroid things, and in a spectacular and horrible moment of cliche, the planet logo from the top of the Daily Planet building in an Atlas-moment. Stay in shape. And practice making fists.

Standouts from the cast are as expected. Or rather, standout, in that Kevin Spacey makes a good villain as we all knew he would. And he even manages to squeak out some truly horrible lines without sounding as horrible. Personally, I think there should be a moratorium on the line “bring it on” for the next thirty years or so, but Spacey pulls it off with a crazy shaking bravado that only a bald man in designer suits can do. His henchwoman/bimbo-of-choice, “Katherine/Kitty,” is played by Parker Posey, and I couldn’t help but wish Singer would have let her do what she does best, which is grind the role into a mush of sour sadism. But instead Kitty is played as alternately stupid and stupider. Plus she carries around a tiny lap dog the whole time. Sigh.

Where this Superman departs from earlier Superman films (and I confess that my knowledge of Superman II and III is severely limited) is in the redeeming power of the nuclear family. Spoiler alert, whatever. Superman gets messed up, as he does when he comes in contact with that green glowing kryptonite (which doesn’t get picked up by my spellcheck...hmmm...how come I can’t get it to recognize “transgender” but it knows “kryptonite”?), resulting in a good, old fashioned ass kicking at the hands and feet of Lex Luther’s thugs. Superman escapes by falling off a cliff into the ocean, and is promptly picked up by not just Lois, but Lois, her husband, and her five year old. This beautiful white upper middle class nuclear family with their own plane pluck Superman out of the ocean and magically bring him back to consciousness. Hooray the saving power of the nuclear family. By jove, those neocons are right. Family values will save the world, or at least save the man/alien who will save the world.

After the world has been saved, and order and father-son relationships are restored, Lois eventually attempts to write a follow-up to her Pulitzer-Prize winning article, entitled, wait for it...”Why the World Does Need Superman.” Hell yes. That’s right. We need a man with good old-fashioned values of truth and justice, of infinite strength and power, of undying devotion and determination. He has to be white, with kind eyes and at least seem tall if not already tall. And it will help if he’s from one of those down-home places like the farms of the Midwest or Texas. Superman returns...again and again and again...

Images courtesy of: BBC, ModernTimes.com, and Wikipedia.com, respectively.

On discovering the location of one's balls

Now, I hate as much as the next gender-theory-conscious person to indulge in a sexual metaphor, but in this case, as most of Congress is male anyway, I feel the metaphor is somewhat warranted. In any case, it makes for a good head/subject line. And besides, if I can claim the phallus, I can certainly claim some balls. Twigs no good without the berries.

The GOP and the President have made a valiant effort to chip away at their approval ratings over the last three years or so, achieving an elegant fall from grace over such issues as gas prices, the growing deficit, and that other elephant in the room, the "war on terror." I applaud them for their determination to stay the course of ruin and unwavering stupidity. Mission accomplished, as it were.

This plummet into the abyss of political cock-up has remained, however, relatively in check as the Democrats and the Left have refused to go toe to toe, instead preferring to tow the line of political unity, if you will excuse the homonym. Growing up in the Midwest, I never really had a sense of the difference between political parties, only knowing that the Dems seemed "cooler" to my burgeoning leftist sensibilities. The GOP, on the other hand, seemed to made up of uncool old white guys who appeared to have a lot invested in making everyone feel like a mixed-up teenager, even when their constituency was mostly over the age of 30. In any case, the more leftist I became, the more the Democrats seemed cool. Or rather cool enough, as I would come to realize that the Dems were really the lesser of two evils.

Then came September 11, the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq, and the beginning of the war on terror. And the Dems became the GOP, and the GOP became Gods Army, and the left remained located in the few courageous individuals who could still think straight enough to go, What the hell just happened? For all intensive purposes, the left disappeared. And I began to despair.

Where was the critique? Where were the questions? Where was the thoughtful and analytical engagement with the events of 2001, rather than the knee-jerk cry for blood and justice? The blogosphere was humming, but the most public of voices remained silent. Then the US government, condoned by popular opinion, sent thousands of young men and women to wage a war of vengeance. A war on terror became a war of terror.

And still the Dems remained silent, speaking in favor of unity and patriotism, as if to question our motives for war was in itself an act of violence. No one could speak out without being branded as unAmerican, whatever that means. We all went through this; theres no point in rehearsing the details. An irresponsibility on my part, perhaps. But not as irresponsible as using 16,000 American bodies for fodder in a battle over economic and ideological supremacy (BBC4: Dispatches: Americas Secret Shame [22 Nov. 2005] - I check my shit). By the way, 90f those 16,000 casualties occurred after GWBs big Mission Accomplished speech in May of 2003. Flash forward just over three years, and young people still battle on a massive and convoluted urban front line to accomplish the mission, whatever that was.


Now that I have that off my chest, let me say that for the first time in a long time, I have found something to be proud of in the Democratic party. CNN reported today that the Dems have vowed to reject any proposed salary increases for members of Congress until the national minimum wage is increased. And best of all, the Dems are holding out for an increase of $2.10, to raise the minimum wage from $5.15 to $7.25 (thats £1.15, £2.07, and £3.12, respectively, for all those Brits and others among you). Awesome. Still kind of appalling that the minimum wage in the US is that low, but its a step in the right direction. And in this age, as a Dem or a Lefty, you take what you can get sometimes.

I especially like this scathing assessment of the GOPs legislative strategy by Harry Reid (D-Nevada): "They can play all the games the want. They can deal with gay marriage, estate tax, flag burning, all these issues and avoid issues like the prices of gasoline, sending your kid to college. But we're going to do everything to stop the congressional pay raise" (CNN, Democrats vow to block pay raises... 27 June 2006). He pretty much pins down how the GOP has used a perverse twist on Shock and Awe by distracting the American public with the use of hot button issues like abortion rights, gay marriage, and patriotism. These issues shock middle Americas sensitive morality, and then seek to awe that constituency with the GOPs attention to good Christian family values.

With this gesture, the Dems seem to be getting back to their somewhat lefty tendencies a little, showing solidarity with the working class and pointing out the ways that the Bush administration and the GOP have systematically ignored the working class over the last six years, and probably before that too. If were honest, we can admit that the US government has never been that sympathetic to the working class, for fear that such sympathy would result in a commie takeover and the end of an American capitalist meritocracy. But thats beyond the scope of this little blog right now.

So cheers to the Dems for taking a stand and finding their balls again. Fingers crossed, the standing-up for minimum wage stays hardline and rigid. And in my dreams of dreams, theyll manage to stay standing and continue to push for more reform, including national healthcare system, protecting the environment, providing more funding for education, protection of a womans right to choose and care for herself, and making comprehensive sex ed available in all schools. Oh, gay civil rights would help. And an end to this stupid DOMA thing... But one thing at a time. Its a start, now lets keep going.

Heres hoping for a turn in the course...

CNN: Dems and Payraises

--This blog was originally posted on 28 June 2006 on http://blog.myspace.com/jennyrob--

CDC is A-ok, or why my body matters to the government

From our latest sphincter friends at the CDC, the following:

"New federal guidelines ask all females capable of conceiving a baby to treat themselves -- and to be treated by the health care system -- as pre-pregnant, regardless of whether they plan to get pregnant anytime soon.

Among other things, this means all women between first menstrual period and menopause should take folic acid supplements, refrain from smoking, maintain a healthy weight and keep chronic conditions such as asthma and diabetes under control."

And also:

"The recommendations aim to 'increase public awareness of the importance of preconception health' and emphasize the 'importance of managing risk factors prior to pregnancy,' said Samuel Posner, co-author of the guidelines and associate director for science in the division of reproductive health at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which issued the report.

Other groups involved include the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, the March of Dimes, Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center, the National Center for Chronic Disease Prevention's Division of Reproductive Health and the National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities."

Hi. My name is Jenny. I'll be your handmaiden, walking-incubator, live-baby-farm, uterus for the day. Would you like to impregnate me now? Oh, wait, excuse me, I have to go take my folic acid supplements and spend an hour in the gym first, to make sure I can carry the baby to full term. Once impregnated, I will not be able to carry another baby for nine months, but I should be able to keep carrying babies for the next 20 to 30 years, at which point I will stop existing in the medical system and the popular culture. Thank you.

Please pass the folic acid and the sperm?


Text taken from "Forever Pregnant" at the Washington Post.

Find the original rant at The Broadsheet at Salon.com

--This blog was originally posted on 17 May 2006 on http://blog.myspace.com/jennyrob--

She's the man, or something like that

So I took a day off and went to the pictures, indulging in the filmic equivalent of a marshmallow. I saw "She's the Man," featuring Amanda Bynes and David Cross (She's the Man on IMDb). Despite the fact that I walked into the theater and saw that I was the oldest person there (not entirely surprised by that), I hung around to see what the latest modernization of the Bard had to offer.

Yeah, well, like I said, it was the equivalent of eating a marshmallow - all fluff and sugar and air, but just enjoyable enough that you don't completely hate yourself after consuming it.

However, what really struck me was Amanda Byne's scrupulous cultivation of a distinctly baby dyke aesthetic. She's an attractive girl in a very conventional sense, let's not deny it, but when she's something else, she's something more. Her performance is over the top, and even campy, making me wonder (as I usually do in these cross-dressing comedies) how anyone could have possibly believed she is "really" a guy. But through a different lens, Bynes is a cute little tomboy. Makes me wish she left on the baggy jeans and slightly-fitted tshirts, and kept the stilletos in her (almost) girlfriend's closet.

Of course this is ruined by the big reveal, involving Bynes and her twin (?) brother revealing breasts and genitals, respectively, to a crowded soccer stadium. Why, why why???

If you feel like marshmallows, wait for Blockbuster or Netflix to deliver. Then you're free to fast forward to Bynes's swaggering tomboy (while muting the dialogue).

--This blog was originally posted on 15 April 2006 on http://blog.myspace.com/jennyrob--

Adventures in the blogosphere

I originally began posting, or publishing, depending on whom one talks to, on my myspace page, watching my words circulate among those selected friends who actually had the time to read. Success has been less than moderate, but I remain undaunted. In this age of freedom of choice, I choose to get out there, to stop complaining to my adorable friends and to pretend that perhaps I might say something that actually matters. The blogosphere seems to be the embodiment of neoliberal individualism - everyone has a voice, a choice, an individuality that can be expressed uncompromisingly. So I am here to put that theory to the test. The question becomes, however, will anyone read or care.

In the catchphrase of advertising and marketing, "watch this space."