Of Superheroes and Tights

As a nice sequel to my previous blog (and after all, aren'’t these movies really all about the sequels anyway), I thought I would share my thoughts on the latest “superhero movie to hit the mass market, Ivan Reitman's "My Super Ex-Girlfriend."

Notable differences between "Superman Returns” and "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" are as follows:

1. Uma Thurman as blonde goddess versus Brandon Routh as dark Atlas

2. Luke Wilson versus Kate Bosworth as the damsel-in-distress

3. Fishnet stockings and black leather bustiers versus plastic/metal mesh protective suit

4. Crazy superhero sex versus chaste and infantile infatuation*

In summation, "My Super Ex Girlfriend” takes the superhero formula and runs it through the misogynistic Freudian blender of shame. The plot concerns Matt Saunders, a thirty-something architect six months removed from his last 'psycho' girlfriend. Encouraged by his closest friend, Saunders approaches a woman on the subway, asking her out on a date. She quickly turns him down, and immediately has her purse stolen. Saunders, being the handsome gallant, runs after the thief and recovers the purse. The woman is Jenny Johnson, a curator at an art gallery and also G Girl, the local superhero to whom no one seems to really pay attention. Unlike Superman, who commands the hearts and minds (and media) of those around him, G Girl mostly remains out of the limelight, commanding name recognition but without any fuss. The Colin Powell to Superman's Dubya.

Saunders and Johnson begin dating, and the romantic comedy formula swings into full effect. Also in effect are the rampant cliches of the superhero paradigm, including secret identities, a super-villain, contact with an unearthly mineral, and that noxious pair of plastic rimmed glasses. However, the normal restrictions on the romantic line of a superhero narrative, such as the necessity of maintaining a secret identity and of selflessly giving oneself to the larger cause of justice and protection of the people, are absent. G Girl is consumed with her relationship to Saunders, revealing her 'true’ identity about a third of the way through the film. When Saunders realizes the implications of his relationship with G Girl, his concern is not with how this might affect her ability to do the work she is supposed to do (think Mary Jane and Spiderman) but with how this will boost his status in the dating circuit. At one point, he wants to tell his best friend that he is dating G Girl, saying that the friend once slept with a Victoria's Secret model and Saunders has "never heard the end of it." By sleeping with a superhero, Saunders has bypasses his friend in sociosexual status.

Eventually, G Girl begins to suspect that Saunders is cheating on her with a coworker, and in one ridiculous scene refuses to stop a missile from crashing into the “tri-state area” because she doesn’t trust Saunders to be alone with Hannah, his coworker. He manages to convince her, but she goes only reluctantly. Unlike Superman, G Girl will not give herself up to the cause, preferring to keep an eye on her man rather than on the welfare of the world.

Saunders has to break up with G Girl - she’s a neurotic crazy person, and he's really in love with Hannah anyway. G Girl then goes on a rampage, throwing his car into orbit in space and a live shark into the bedroom where he and Hannah are cuddling in post-coital bliss. After several twists and turns, and a climatic showdown involving Eddie Izzard and a giant refrigerated meteor, G Girl gives up her revenge quest and Hannah and Saunders are allowed to live happily ever after. Aahhhh, deep cleansing breath.



This film is exactly as sexist as it sounds. Thurman'’s G Girl is a raging, castrating lunatic - after the first time Saunders and G Girl have sex, she looks at the wreckage around her, including a broken bed, and says, "I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one.”

Saunders replies with "A new bed or penis?"

"Both,” she answers breathlessly. G Girl not only takes the dominant position during sex, but she breaks his genitals. The next day, Saunders walks awkwardly to work, attempting to deal with the physical discomfort of the previous night’s encounter. Indeed G Girl’s only redeeming feature seems to be her incredible physical attractiveness. Saunders never says how sweet she is, or how smart, or how interesting. Only that she is hot and she "broke his bed” (this after his friend comments, "You have invaded the female and spread your democracy." Seriously. He says that.). Every sexual encounter between them puts him on edge, including when she takes him up into the stratosphere with him. Margot Kidder he is not. He is never energized or in awe of his superhero mate - he is only afraid. "I'’m feeling a little emasculated up here,” he says, eyeing the ground nervously.

If that's not literal enough, there are any number of references to Saunder's manhood, including when she burns the word "dick” into his forehead with her laser vision and when she threatens to shove a chainsaw "up his ass" if he ever reveals her superhero identity. She is both castrating and sodomizing, needy and neurotic. And despite the numerous sexist cliches aimed at male characters, G Girl's outbursts become the crazy to Saunder's centered rationality. She is the extreme to Saunder's normative in more ways than one. Saunders is just a regular guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. Only when he is with Hannah, who praises his sweetness while remaining subservient to his leadership, can he fully find happiness. Hannah may be able to be a superhero (see meteor climax), but she belongs to him. There is a paradox at play here, one hat many women are compromised with everyday - the cultural imperative to be independent and strong while deferring to a male partner. A woman can have power as long as she knows her place. At the end of the film, Izzard and Wilson are left with girlfriends' purses in hand as the women fly to save a plane from crashing. They are framed as the wives-at-home, and the audience is left with this humorous gender reversal. It's only funny because it's unusual, it's odd. It's funny because it puts Wilson and Izzard into positions they should not occupy. Ha ha, isn't it funny how they've been turned into wives? Because being a wife is funny, especially if you're a wife with a penis.

"Want to get a beer?” Wilson asks. Somebody better break the bottle over his (and director Reitman's) head.


Four other side points:

Firstly, Thurman’s superhero costumes consist of knee high boots, leather corsets, full skirts, and silk capes. Apparently, women can only have superpowers if they have super-cleavage as well.

Secondly, I love Eddie Izzard as a comic, but in this film he falls miserably flat. And in what universe does Izzard end up with Uma Thurman?

Thirdly, Luke Wilson is a disaster. He seems to be playing Owen Wilson playing Matt Saunders. Luke is much better as the antisocial tennis pro of "The Royal Tennenbaums,"” where he doesn'’t have but five lines and spends most of his time onscreen being hidden by long hair and aviator sunglasses.

And finally, what kind of superhero name is G Girl anyway? It's never explained in the film why she is called G Girl, but it doesn't really matter anyway, as it is the lamest superhero name ever. At least Elektra had a cool name (or Storm or Rogue. Hell, even Jean Grey is better). Although Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and Batgirl pretty much suck as well. Might as well continue the tradition of infantilizing women with power.

What happened? I keep shaking my head, trying to understand...


*Although somehow we'’re supposed to believe that Lois and Superman did it at some point and produced an angelic yet fragile five year old.

Images from: http://xoomer.alice.it/amasoni2002/shl/index.htm, http://www.northdevongazette.co.uk, and http://www.cinoche.com/actualites/1028, respectfully.