Sunday, September 7, 2014

On Guardians, Galaxies, and Heroes.

Spoiler Alert: I make no promises that I won't spoil something.

A few weeks ago I saw Guardians of the Galaxy alone in a movie theatre at 10AM on a Saturday. And I'm not complaining. I prefer to watch movies by myself. Movies, theatre, music, really anything where afterwards someone might be tempted to ask me, "So what did you think?" before I'm good and ready to respond. I need time to digest.

That's beside the point. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. It was, by all accounts, well done. I'll admit, I'm a bit burnt out on comic book to movie translations. Somehow one Spiderman movie became five, Superman has attempted to win everyone over multiple times, Tony Stark has done his thing thrice, Captain America, Thor, the Hulk, Batman (the Bond franchise of Comic Book films), the list goes on and on. Our heroes face crazier and crazier obstacles as nefarious villains strive to conquer, destroy, steal, or corrupt various cities, America, or the World (or Universe if they're feeling ambitious). And for the most part I have enjoyed at least the first movie of each new adaptation. But I can only see so many skyscrapers tumble and innocent bystanders probably get wasted (but at least the hero or token child saved by hero is fine) before I start thinking about cost. The cost of cities being destroyed is the #2 cause of me losing focus and letting the illusion crumble around my ears.

Guardians of the Galaxy did an admirable job preventing that. The faceless masses were given faces. The cost to the multitudes was constantly present. It was not hero vs. villain for the sake of a sweet explosive showdown. It was countless people sacrificing to save families and friends, habitual enemies becoming allies with the hope that everyone can go home at the end of the day and hold their children again. And as for the Guardians themselves, it wasn't a bunch of misfits coming together. For all intents and purposes each one had their place and did quite well in their sphere. They were successful in their niches. On an individual basis they probably did better separate than as part of a group. With that said, when a need arose they did their best with what they had. That's a story that speaks to people.

At this point you might be saying, "If that's #2, what's #1?" Let me tell you. The #1 thing that ruins the magic for me is when heroes don't bleed. Not that I have to see actual blood. Metaphorically (though in the pursuit of the metaphor it could get literal). I need to see that my heroes can fail, that there is the possibility that they just aren't strong enough, or smart enough, or brave enough, or decisive enough or good enough to succeed when push comes to shove. I don't think I'm alone in this. I think it's one of the keys to winning an audience: providing an access point, a way for me to relate and say, "I have been there, and I will be there again, and we understand each other."

Two images from film for you. The first is from the Superman remake before the Henry Cavill one. Towards the beginning of the film there are some bad guys doing what bag guys do, and Superman flies in to stop them. They unload a gattling gun into his chest, but Superman continues approaching them undeterred. The shooter, not about to give up, walks towards Superman, and at point blank range he shoot Superman in the face. In slow motion we see the bullet hit Superman's eye, compress, fragment, and fall to the ground, leaving him completely unscathed. If I recall correctly this is in the first ten minutes. It's established right from the beginning, Superman will win because at the end of the day, he's invincible. He can't bleed (unless in the presence of a surprisingly rare non-earth element, but excluding outside forces he's perfect. I admit, I have problems with the concept of Superman).


The second image is from Thor. From the beginning we get that he is pretty impressive in terms of strength and battle prowess. We also see very early on that he is proud, foolish, thoughtless, manipulable, rash, and petty. But the image I truly love is this. After he has fought his way through government agents, he stands in front of his hammer ready to regain his former glory. When he tries, for all his strength and prowess, he cannot move the hammer. We see him collapse to his knees in the rain with a look in his eyes that says, "I am not good enough."


Which image speaks more to us as an audience? Which one allows for empathy and sympathy? The man who will always be the best, or the man on his knees, his hopes crushed, struggling to understand the world around him, hopeless, defeated, and alone. I will feel for the second every time, and I will cheer for him as he strives imperfectly to overcome challenges.

That's why I liked Guardians of the Galaxy. They fail so often and after so much effort that you start to wonder if success is even an option. Surely after that much sacrifice and effort they should have won. They are people trying their best, but frequently their best isn't good enough. I can relate.

So to all of you story makers and creators, please give me people on stage, on screen, on the page, etc. that let me feel for and with them. I need heroes that can bleed, that can despair, that can sorrow, that can doubt. I need living, breathing characters that expose truths of the human condition, and from what I understand it's very hard to live without blood.

And for all of you that may not have seen Guardians of the Galaxy, accept that it's probably not as good as I've talked it up to be. I don't need you being disappointed because I said it was great and you don't think so. But you should see it and judge for yourself.


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