What's So Super About This Guy?
Born in the Great Depression, Superman still holds our rapt attention 70 years later, even as he headlines a new movie opening this week.
By Gary D. Robinson | posted 6/27/2006
 1 of 3
"TThe world doesn't need a savior. And neither do I."
So states plucky reporter Lois Lane in the long-awaited Superman Returns, opening in theaters this week. Of course, the statement radiates irony the way Kryptonite gives off poison. In the comic book reality Lois inhabits, not only is she in constant need of a rescuer, but her world is as well.
Christians and even the most casual observers of pop culture have long recognized the similarities between this red-and-blue swaddled infant rocketed to earth and another babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. Before we delve more deeply into the Christ-Superman connection, however, let's review the history of an American icon.
Born in … Cleveland?
In 1933, the mad clown Hitler begins to enthrall the German masses with Nietzsche's doctrine of the superman (ubermensch). Meanwhile, half a world away in Cleveland, two Jewish high school students, Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster, have just created a superman of their own.
While no Nazi ubermensch, Superman's ruthless pursuit of justice was terrifying. In the first comic to bear his name, Superman hurls a wife beater against the wall ("You're not fighting a woman now!") and pitches a wailing warmonger over a stand of trees. Mild-mannered this Superman was not!
Superman was the product of the Great Depression, an era draped with the shadow of war and acrid with the smell of the gangster's Tommy gun. It was a day of strongmen with strong ideas about government—FDR, Franco, Mussolini. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Superman was the little guy backed into a corner, the stoop-shouldered victim who suddenly whipped off his round-rimmed glasses, ripped open his shirt, straightened up and took charge.
It's this above-and-beyond-ness that still attracts us to Superman seventy years later. The superhero concept is more popular than ever—especially at the cineplex. Why? Must be this wonderful quality of being super. Despite our medical expertise and remarkable technologies, despite the fact that we live longer and healthier, we're still nowhere near "super." Our spirits soar, but our bodies fail. To paraphrase Chevy Chase's old Saturday Night Live line, "I'm Superman—and you're not." It's this simple, poignant knowledge that keeps us lining up at the box office to watch him fly.
Not that Superman flew in the beginning. Initially, he got around by means of eighth-of-a-mile leaps. Though knives broke on his chest, bursting shells could penetrate his skin. For 1938, this was plenty. But as time passed and competitors tried to muscle in on his territory, Superman had to become more super. Within a decade, he could withstand an atomic blast. By the 1960s, Superman could see across the universe and bathe in the sun. He had become a veritable god.
The aging of a superhero
Of course, a series about a hero incapable of failure is a quick recipe for boredom—thus the introduction of Kryptonite, to keep things interesting. Thanks to the alien element, a now vulnerable Superman gave his writers new ideas for plots and storylines. But even that creative well began to run dry.
Browse More Movies
CT Movies Home Page | Now Showing | New on Video | All Reviews
Coming Soon | Discussion Guides | Interviews | Commentary
News & Misc. | Special Sections | About Us
Your Feedback | About Us | CT Mag Home Page
| |
|
Printer view
