When Superheroes Kill—and Why Doing So Isn't Necessarily Bad

The buzz is all over the Internet, so I’m probably not giving away any spoilers, but just in case:

SPOILER WARNING: THIS POST DISCUSSES PLOT ELEMENTS OF THE FILMS MAN OF STEEL AND THE DARK KNIGHT,  AS WELL AS OTHER STORIES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Ready now?

Okay, to continue: It’s true.

Superman kills.

Once we move past the shock value, though, the questions before us are: Is the fact that Superman kills necessarily a bad thing?  Was it necessary?  Did director Zack Snyder and producer/writer Christopher Nolan deliberately turn the Man of Steel into the Dark Knight?

Fans are understandably upset when a beloved hero and cherished icon behaves in less-than-iconic ways. Some claim that Superman should have found another way because, after all, he’s Superman.

While this circular reasoning doesn’t answer the questions posed above, it does illustrate how important the character of Superman still is to us, even after 75 years of existence, and how he embodies the ideals we cherish. These ideals were even best expressed in the 1950s The Adventures of Superman television series: truth, justice, and the American Way.

But just as America sometimes fails to live up to its own ideals, so, too, does its quintessential hero fall short—and that, for storytelling purposes, can be a good thing.

Before we discuss why, though, let’s look at a few other incidents where superheroes have taken life.  This phenomenon, after all, is not without precedent. It goes back nearly 50 years at least.

Star Boy

In Adventure Comics # 342, March 1966, Star Boy—a member of Superboy’s buddies from the future, the Legion of Super-Heroes—kills Kenz Nuhor, a bad guy intent on killing him. Since he acted in self defense, Star Boy is cleared by the Science Police. However, that’s not good enough for his Legion comrades. They haul him before a court martial, convict him of violating their code, and expel him.

The message of the story is clear: superheroes do not kill. They are held to higher standard than us mere mortals.

Yet the story also illustrates the flaw in that standard. The Legion’s Constitution, we are told, is amended shortly after to permit killing in self defense. Not that doing so does Star Boy any good.

(Not to worry, though. Nine issues later, the Legion had a change of heart and readmitted him.)

This story remains controversial among Legion fans to this day. Could Star Boy have disabled Nuhor without killing him, as the story suggests? Even if he could, should he have been held to an impossibly high standard when he had only a split second to act?

It's telling that Superboy (a teenaged Superman)—the very hero upon whom the Legion's code is based--defends Star Boy at his trial. Because he is invulnerable, Superboy explains, he has less cause for killing than the other Legionnaires. Interestingly, the Legionnaires don't take this explanation into account when they vote to expel Star Boy. The ideal—as expressed by the code—prevails.

Hawkeye

In Avengers # 229, March 1983, during a climactic battle with the criminal scientist Egghead, Hawkeye the Archer shoots an arrow into the barrel of a Egghead’s “blaster” gun just as the villain fires. The resulting backlash kills Egghead.

Yes, it was an accident, but the villain died nonetheless.

Hawkeye, too, is cleared by the authorities and—unlike poor Star Boy—by his superhero comrades, as well.  He spends all of about two seconds feeling angsty before deciding he can’t feel sorry for Egghead: “If anyone deserved this, he did!” Hawkeye ruminates in the next issue.

While Hawkeye’s attitude may sound callous, it could also be seen as a healthy way of dealing with the unimaginable. Killing, it is said, damages the soul of the killer as much as it takes away life. In modern times, we are just starting to understand the effects of PTSD and wounded souls upon soldiers and police officers, who often must kill in the line of duty.

This story illustrates why killing should be avoided, but how it sometimes cannot be.

Batman

Yes, even Batman—in spite of some commentators’ claims—took life. In The Dark Knight film, Batman pushes Harvey Two-Face off a building when the latter threatens Jim Gordon’s young son. Both hero and villain fall. Batman survives. Harvey does not.

Some may claim that Batman did not intend to kill Two-Face; however, the result—as in Hawkeye’s situation—was the same. Besides, one could argue that Batman should have known, given the height of the building and his opponent’s lack of Wayne Tech-created armor, that death was likely to result. In any case, Batman, as the saying goes, did what had to be done.

The lesson: What has to be done isn’t always pretty.

Of course, many commentators have pointed out that Supeman is not Batman. Superman is about the joy of being a superhero (many reviewers have criticized Man of Steel as "joyless"), whereas Batman is about striking terror into the hearts of criminals. 

Batman, they seem to suggest, would be more justified in killing than Superman because he lives in a grim, dark, and dirty world while Superman lives in sunlight, primary colors, and Kansas.

And yet, as anyone from Kansas (or elsewhere) who has sent loved ones off to war knows, sometimes our ideals collide with reality and come back to us changed.

So, why was it necessary from a story-telling standpoint for Superman to kill?  Three reasons:

1. It shows that ideals are important.  Even if the ideals are simplistic and all-encompassing such as “heroes don’t kill,” heroes must believe in something higher than themselves.  (The difference between Superman and General Zod, we are told, is that Zod and his followers have no moral code.)

2. It shows that ideals, however, are not perfect.  No ideal or standard can accommodate every situation or solve every problem. Ideals guide us, but they do not do our thinking or decision making for us.

3. It shows the difficult choices heroes (and all of us) have to face. Rigid adherence to an ideal can produce disastrous results—look at the 9/11 hijackers for a real-world result.

Had Superman not acted, Zod would have fried a man, woman, and two small children. Superman, then, would have been an accessory to murder, regardless.

(And, yes, the filmmakers could have written in some fail-safe where Superman wouldn’t have had to make that choice. It was a gutsy decision that they did not.)

This is not to say that superheroes should kill with abandon or without consequences. In fact, one of the movie’s failings (and it has several) is that it blithely ignores the thousands who must have perished when all those buildings collapsed during Superman and Zod’s battle.

This failing, of course, is not unique to Man of Steel. Most Hollywood blockbusters these days follow the ethic of making as many things explode as possible. Modern blockbusters resemble video games in their nonstop focus on action. This, I’d argue, is irresponsible film making, but that’s the subject for another post.

However, the fact that Superman violates his own code against killing is not in itself a weakness of the film. Rather, it challenges us on two fronts: to consider what a superhero can and cannot do, and to examine the limits of the ideals we impose on heroes and on ourselves.

Perhaps that’s the best thing any movie can do.

Superman Vs. Batman: Choose Your Icon

Image via Wikipedia

If Superman is Batman's opposite – as I suggested in last week's post – what makes Superman an icon?

For writers, understanding the difference between the two characters is crucial if you want to create a memorable, long-lasting character. Despite their differences, Superman is no less an icon than Batman.  In fact, when people think of super-heroes, Superman is usually the first one who comes to mind.

Superman also represents the quintessential American hero.  Perhaps no other fictional character embodies the values of “truth, justice, and the American way” – a tag line even used during the 1950s Superman TV series.

Ironically, Superman contradicts many of these values.  He was not born in the United States (the ultimate foreigner, he’s from another planet!).  He did not work hard to get his super-powers – he acquired them because of his physiology and the natural environment of earth (lighter gravity, yellow sun).

Superman is not really about “truth,” either, since he hides his identity under the guise of Clark Kent.

Yet these qualities appeal to a very different set of emotions and associations which elevate Superman to icon status:

The Ultimate Immigrant.  Superman, like many of us – or our parents, our grandparents, or other relatives – came to this country from somewhere else.  He did not inherit American citizenship; he adopted it – by choice.  And he came to love America as many immigrants do.  (It has been suggested by film scholars that some of the best films about America have been made by directors of foreign birth, such as Frank Capra.)

Furthermore, Superman’s love of humanity isn’t limited to this country – it’s inclusive of all citizens of earth (and even natives of other worlds).  This makes him a universal hero, which taps into the American ideal of our nation serving as a shelter for “the tired, the homeless, the hungry.”  On the surface, Superman wears a costume strongly evocative of red, white, and blue, but his costume merely reminds us that America itself was meant to welcome others.

(This ideal, by the way, stands in stark contrast to Batman, who is often portrayed as a provincial hero devoted to protecting one particular city, Gotham City.)

Natural Abilities.  Superman is not only gifted with super-powers, but he’s gifted with an abundance of them: super-strength, flight, invulnerability, x-ray vision, telescopic vision, microscopic vision, ad nauseum.  Some writers have complained that Superman’s god-like abilities make him extremely difficult to write, and some comics fans claim that such a powerful character is hard to identify with.  (And some writers – and even filmmakers – have made the mistake of taking Superman’s god-like status to ridiculous levels.)

Yet this abundance of powers taps into deeply cherished emotions and associations, including “American exceptionalism” – the idea that there is something special about us, that we have the know-how and the determination to overcome odds and to be a shining light for the rest of the world.  An arrogant notion?  Perhaps.  But who doesn’t want to believe themselves special?  Who doesn’t want to believe they can accomplish, achieve, or acquire more than they have? 

Superman embodies the hope that we, too, can live lives of abundance – abundant health, wealth, friends, fulfillment.

This is not to say that Superman always has it easy.  The challenge faced by comics and film writers has always been to create worthy challenges for Superman, and some have succeeded more than others.  Before DC reinvented the character back in 1986, one of the recurring themes was that Superman – for all of his powers – was not a god.  He could not save his loved ones, including his foster parents, from death.  Nor could he bring back his beloved homeworld of Krypton or his natural parents. 

Later versions of the character were stripped of these humanizing elements to his detriment, in my opinion.  Instead of Superman losing loved ones, his powers were toned down.  He could no longer survive in space for unlimited periods of time, for example.  But such limitations have a negligible effect, I think.  Furthermore, they undercut the theme that, no matter how powerful Superman is, he’s still human.

And there is something reassuring in that theme: no matter how powerful we get – as individuals or as a nation – we’re still human, too. 

Hiding in Plain Sight. Volumes have been written about the importance of the Clark Kent persona to Superman – how it further humanizes him, how it represents the “mask” we all wear in public –  when we have to pretend we’re something we’re not in order to function in society – and how we know there’s more to us than even our closest friends suspect.

And all of this is true.  Superman has always pretended to be a dweeb (before the term dweeb was even popularized) so he can walk among normal humans, so he can have family and friends who will not be endangered by his enemies, and so he can have some semblance of a normal life.

And don’t all of us wear similar masks, such as when job interview or date,?  Don't we try to project what we think the other person or company wants?  Sometimes we wear masks for our own protection – reveal too much to others and we can get hurt. 

Paul Laurence Dunbar, in an early 20^th century poem, “We Wear the Mask,” described the persona adopted by African Americans in order to be accepted iby white society (or at least to avoid being singled out for harm in the era of segregation and lynchings), but his poem could easily apply to anyone anywhere. NPR recently broadcast a disturbing story of FBI agents being trained to regard all “religious Muslims” as potential terrorists.  And in my Intro to Lit class, we read Dwight Okita's "In Response to Executive Order 9066," a moving poem written from the persona of a 14-year-old girl  who loves tomato seeds and hot dogs and who was being sent to a Japanese relocation camp during World War II.

As a nation, we have a long way to go before we realize the ideal of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” for everyone, before equality truly becomes a reality and not an ideal.  Ironically, Superman – this god-like character of unimaginable power – embodies this struggle because he, too, is forced to hide, to wear a mask (ironically by not wearing an actual mask at all).

In their own ways, Superman and Batman embody different aspects of our hopes, dreams, and fears.  It’s tempting to think of them as the yin and yang of the American psyche (or, perhaps, the human psyche), but I prefer to think of them as complementary icons who point to the complexity and richness of life – and fiction.

If given a choice of Superman or Batman, which would you prefer and why?

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3 Things Batman Can Teach You about Creating an Icon

Image via Wikipedia

Most writers want to create the next Harry Potter or Holden Caufield or Tom Sawyer – a character who resonates with the public, transcends race, class, and gender, and appeals to subsequent generations of readers.  In short, an icon.

Recently, TNT aired The Dark Knight – a three-hour blockbuster and the most recent in a long string of movies featuring a perennial American icon, Batman.  While watching the film for the fourth time, I became struck by how fresh it remains and how it reinterprets the character – keeping his essential qualities intact while updating them for a modern audience.

Batman also continues to star in multiple comic books each month, was the subject of a much derided (but still famous) 1960s TV series, and shows up each year as a costume for kids at Halloween.

Not bad for a character who dresses up like a bat, beats up bad guys, and is 72 years old.

So, what makes Batman an icon?  Here are three ideas:

1.  Batman has no powers.  He’s a self-made hero – someone who relies on his training, hard work, and wits.  This idea resonates with many Americans who see themselves as independent hard workers.

Most kids know they will never grow up to be Superman or Green Lantern (unless an alien with a powerful ring happens to fall from the sky into their back yards), but, with enough determination, they could become Batman.

One aspect fans overlook, however, is that Batman (Bruce Wayne) was born wealthy.  He has the resources to train, to create the Bat costume and gadgets, to hide in a secret but well-equipped Batcave, and to employ a butler to look after him. 

But, in a way, Batman’s wealth appeals to another American notion: the idea that we are, as David Brooks put it, “pre-rich.”  All we have to do is win the lottery, work hard, invest, etc., etc.

2. Batman is a loner.  Superman has Lois Lane.  Other characters have or have had steady girlfriends, wives, and soul mates.  But Batman, throughout his long history, has never had a significant other.  Sure, a number of women have come and gone (Julie Madison, Vicki Vale, Silver St. Cloud, to name a few), but none have come to the fore as the one he is destined to be with – except possibly Selina Kyle (Catwoman), but her status on the opposite side of the law precludes Batman from having a long-term relationship with her.

Instead of a regular love interest, Batman has a core group of “buddies” – Robin/Nightwing, Alfred, Commissioner Gordon.  They share in his mission but are not allowed to get too close.  Think this would be a detriment to the character's appeal?  Next time you're with a group of guys, listen to them talk about sports, their cars, their jobs, movies, or anything else that is external to their own lives.  Many men, in particular, like to keep that personal distance and to focus on the "task" at hand.

3. One word: gadgets.  Batmobiles.  Batarangs.  The Utility Belt.  Let’s face it: gadgets appeal to us.  Who wouldn’t like to be able to pull out just the right tool for the job, the right item for the occasion?  Plus, Batman’s gadgets are always cool looking.  In short, Batman is James Bond times ten.

Batman’s reliance on gadgets also separates him from other heroes, such as Superman (who has no gadgets) or Green Lantern or Spider-Man (who rely on one gadget each – power ring and web shooters, respectively).  The only major super-hero who comes close to Batman in terms of gadgets is Iron Man, who wears a suit of amour loaded with technological wonders.

But Batman’s gadgets seem to have a more working class appeal.  They rest in his utility belt until he needs them.  And when he uses them (such as the batarang), he grips them like a hammer. 

There are many other reasons why Batman’s appeal has endured – the tragedy of losing his parents at  a young age, his outlaw status, to name two – but these three factors resonate strongly in The Dark Knight. 

And there are many icons who appeal to us for other reasons.  Superman, as mentioned above, is virtually Batman’s opposite in every way.

So, what makes an icon?  Tapping into that deep reservoir of emotions and associations that make us who we are and who we want to be.

Who is your favorite icon and why?

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