2 spectacularly-dreadful-ignorances-of-character out of 4
Dear reader, in order for us to continue this review and our relationship, we must confront a single fundamentally unavoidable law: I know more about comic books than you. I’m not looking to argue. I’m not looking to turn this review into a larger cultural conversation about gatekeeping. I simply know and will always know—now, until the end of time—more about comic books than you.
It is by moving past this fundamental law that I am able to irrefutably state that the Batman and Superman in Zack Snyder’s Dawn of Justice—the Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent with whom the audience is forced to connect—are not the same characters who stand together as DC’s, and the world’s, finest.
I must be unequivocally clear that my claim is not a criticism regarding Henry Cavill and Ben Affleck’s performance. I am not saying that Henry Cavill and Ben Affleck poorly portray two of the most important cultural icons in the world of comic literature. I’m certainly not saying that Affleck and Cavill don’t look the part. Finally, I’m in no way suggesting that David S. Goyer and Chris Terrio’s script is misinterpreted by the two actors with top billing. Quite the contrary, Affleck and Cavill’s performances almost perfectly speak to Goyer and Terrio’s script.
It’s just a matter of demonstrable fact that, though Bruce and Clark carry the names of Batman and Superman, they are — without a shadow of a doubt — distantly connected with the characters who have stood as the shining, unconquerable beacons of truth, justice, and morality for the past 77 and 78 years, respectively. The Batman and Superman in Snyder’s film are thuggish, brutish, barbaric, cruel, misguided, moronic, idiotic, mean, cold, uncalculating, smarmy, unattractive, bloated, and just plain dumb.
As a film, however, Dawn of Justice isn’t terrible. Granted, Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor is terrible. Eisenberg is talented, so I wonder who suggested that Luthor act like the Joker for two straight hours. It’s also terrible that Bruce actually kills numerous criminals on-screen in a variety of increasingly violent manners. Let’s also not ignore the fact that a gun-wielding Bruce gets into a standoff with a villain, who is then summarily shot. By Bruce. The man whose parents were gunned down in an alley. The man who swears to never kill and to never use guns.
I digress. Dawn of Justice is a film that borrows liberally from two core Batman and Superman storylines. The older Bruce Wayne, in addition to a supposedly legendary battle with Superman, is taken from Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns. This was Snyder’s first mistake. Miller is a writer whose portrayals of Bruce have only grown darker and more deranged since the 1980s. Miller’s All-Star Batman & Robin, for example, is an almost universally reviled piece of literature, precisely because its portrayal of Batman borders on psychotic.
However, Dawn of Justice also borrows certain elements from Dan Jurgens’s The Death of Superman. This was Snyder’s second mistake. The Death of Superman is a plotline that is essential for the dismantling of Superman as a cultural icon. Adapting such a plotline is problematic, because attempting to tear apart Superman in a movie with Batman ensures that Batman’s importance to the plot is jettisoned to the forefront.
For a film in which Batman and Superman are suggested to confront one another, there is an explicit absence of meaningful dialogue between Bruce and Clark in Dawn of Justice. This isn’t surprising, because any conversation between the two characters would immediately rectify any standing issues with their supposed conflict. As a result, Snyder succeeds at almost eradicating one of the longest-lasting friendships in comic book history.
Bruce and Clark are more than just polar opposites—they are representations of two different, but equally effective styles of law enforcement. They are not reflections of one another because Bruce is darker and Clark is brighter. They make each other better by understanding that both represent a force for moral justice in a world increasingly divided between right and wrong. When Superman says that Bruce is the finest man that he has ever known—when Batman says that Clark is the world’s pillar of good—any conflict between the two is eradicated because of their deep love and respect for one another.
I cannot, however, remain indefinitely cross with Dawn of Justice. DC stories are incredible because the company affords writers and artists the opportunity to interpret characters in new and different ways. Some of the best DC stories have been one-shots lasting nothing more than 12 issues, in which characters are allowed to be interpreted according to the whims and desires of the writer and not the editorial team. It is due to this fact that I forgive Dawn of Justice for being the blasphemous piece of sacrilege that it represents. There will be more Batman and Superman movies. Some movies will be incredible, some will be mediocre, and many will be abysmal.
Dawn of Justice, however, represents one of the most egregious interpretations that I have ever had the misfortune of beholding.