Saturday, March 28, 2009

The Gospel and Science Fiction

Last month I took a trip with a group of college students from my church to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY to attend the Give Me an Answer conference. The theme of the conference was the uniqueness of Christ in a post-modern world, seeking to explore how Christians can believe in Jesus as the only savior in a culture that rejects claims of absolute truth.

One of the elective sessions I attended at the conference was entitled "The Gospel and Science Fiction," a talk given by Timothy Jones, a professor at the seminary, on the spiritual and theological themes found in the sci-fi genre, most notably Star Wars. Professor Jones touched upon many of the same things I had been thinking about lately and bringing up on this blog, namely the ways in which many secular science fiction stories tap into humanity's innate spirituality while still falling short in many ways from arriving at real truth. It wasn't too much of a jump to apply his concepts to superhero comics.

An MP3 of the session may be downloaded here, and the powerpoint slides used in the presentation can be obtained here.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Some Watchmen Movie Thoughts

I. The day before the movie came out, I felt a sudden pang of fanboy grief. Sure, by all indications one of comics' masterpieces had been faithfully translated to film, and the nation was about to be exposed to the medium's greatest triumph. Some of them might even wander into a comic book st--Ok, let's be realistic here--wander over to the graphic novel section at Barnes and Noble.

But, at the same time, from that day forward I'd never be able to introduce anyone to Watchmen again. Not in the same way, at least. Pre-Zack Snyder, you could hand a non-comics reader Watchmen, tell them it's really great, then watch as they end up completely blown away by a comic book (of all things!). I saw it happen firsthand twice in college at UVA, where two classes I took assigned the trade as reading material.

Now, however, you'll bring up Watchmen to your friends and they'll go, "Oh yeah, that movie they made with the big naked blue guy?" Regardless of whether they're actually familiar with it, they'll think they are. Even if Watchmen is read and liked, forever gone will be its shock value. Comics blog Doomkopf sums up this feeling better than I could here, lamenting fanboys' loss of their great "secrets."

II. The worries instilled in me by one of the trailers came true when I saw that the heroes in the movie actually refer to themselves as the "Watchmen." As readers of the comic know, the characters weren't exactly all part of some named group, and the sole failed attempt to do so involved an idea for a team called the Crime Busters. Even when dealing with a story as mature as Watchmen, the studio heads just can't get their minds around the idea that the title of a superhero movie need not refer to the name of the main characters (at least, I'd assume this was the studio's doing). Thank The Dark Knight for taking at least a half-step away from this.

Imagine if this logic were used in all forms of media. You know, the old Simpsons joke about Homer thinking that Mel Gibson portrayed characters named "Braveheart" and "Payback" in his movies? Who can forget such memorable roles as Charlton Heston playing the man known as Ten Commandments or Clint Eastwood as Mr. Unforgiven?

III. On a similar note, it really disturbs me to see so many writers out there calling Alan Moore's work as "The Watchmen." It's just plain Watchmen, people! Adding "the" to things is what old people do when they don't understand how to properly refer to modern concepts. And I'm not talking about mainstream journalists, either. I'm talking about writers for comics publications and on comics blogs. Shouldn't such folks know better?

IV. I've had quite a few conversations with friends about the Rorschach "origin" scene in the movie, where he repeatedly meat cleavers the head of the murderous kidnapper. The scene is quite graphic, but when compared to the way Rorschach takes out the killer in the comic it actually seems tamer in an emotional sense (Remember? He cuffs the guy to a pipe, sets the house on fire, and gives him a hacksaw sharp enough to cut through the killer's arm but not the cuffs. And then we see Rorschach simply standing outside the house watching it burn.) . Why would Snyder and co. choose to show such explicit gruesomeness when the source material already laid out for them how to imply something more impactful?

My theory on this is that the original scene in the comic would have seemed like a ripoff of Saw. I haven't seen the movie (too scared to!), but from what I understand, a major plot point involves a victim having to saw through his own leg with a dull hacksaw in order to escape a deathtrap. Of course, you and I know that Watchmen predates the Saw movies by almost 20 years, but the film was released in a post-Saw world, and moviegoers can't be trusted to so easily grant the benefit of the doubt.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

DC Animated Wonder Woman's Surprising Take on Gender Roles


Though I was looking forward to the DC Universe animated Wonder Woman movie coming out this week, I fully expected the story to come with a heavy dosage of feminist subtext. After all, the current series of PG-13 DTV movies from DC isn't aimed at kids (at least not really young ones), and (let's be honest here) if you're going for relevance in Wonder Woman, feminism is the obvious road to take. Plus, the "Sneak Peek" video shown on the Gotham Knight DVD uses scenes of Gloria Steinem and the women's lib movement to place the history of Wonder Woman in its social context. See if you can count up the number of times Rosario Dawson uses the word "warriess!"

So, you can imagine my readiness to strap on the old protective worldview helmet as I unwrapped the DVD's cellophane on Tuesday evening. A guy like me gets plenty of practice trying to enjoy the entertainment parts of a story while picking out the philosophical underpinnings that assail my beliefs. I could all but see the hordes of Amazon women on my blank TV screen barking that all men were evil (a sentiment I can actually get behind, so long as we're talking about mankind). To my surprise, however, this is not the direction the movie went.

Truth be told, the feminist viewpoint does make itself known throughout the course of the film. Hippolyta, seemingly soured on men following her tryst with god of war Ares, and Artemis, the Amazons' fiercest warrior, both tout the virtues of a separatist Themyscira. Their world is one in which a woman's value lies in the degree to which she has been masculinized, where even appreciation for the arts takes a second seat to training for battle. Yet, while the comics had both of these women wear the tiara and bracelets for a time, Diana is the titular wondrous woman here, and it is her viewpoint, if any, that will dictate the perspective of the film.

Of course, having lived her entire life on the island, Diana starts off with a sizable helping of I-don't-need-no-man attitude. But by movie's end she has, through her relationship with Steve Trevor, come to see how a man's love for a woman need not be emblematic of misogynistic oppression. More importantly, Diana begins to understand how her own role as a woman can have a unique and proper place alongside that of a man. Granted, it's no Ephesians 5, but it's not the NOW newsletter either.

The movie's thesis on feminism is probably most clear, though, in the words of Persephone, who betrayed Themyscira to Ares after the Amazons' hard line ways drove her to madness.

Hippolyta:
"You were given a life of peace and beauty!"

Persephone: "And denied one of families and children. Yes, Hippolyta, the Amazons are warriors. But we are women too."

Sunday, March 1, 2009

How Hope Burns Bright

One of the most interesting concepts in Geoff Johns' lead-up to The Blackest Night has been the introduction of the Blue Lantern Corps. Unlike the other new corps shown so far, which have rapidly scoured the universe to amass a force of numbers, the Blue Lanterns are building their ranks slowly and deliberately. Rather than seeking after their own goals, as the Sinestros and Reds have, the Blues' aim seems to be to aid the Green Lanterns in their mission to keep order. Yet, all indications suggest that the blue ring bearers may be the mightiest of the bunch. And the emotion fueling their rings is hope.

The implication of hope as a driving force came to light this week in Green Lantern #38 during the battle between the Blue Lanterns and the Red. Atrocitus, leader of the Reds, denounces the power of the blue ring as "Empty prayers. Disembodied faith." Evidently, the Blue Lanterns have no real abilities of their own, as their rings only work when fighting along side the willpower of a Green Lantern. "Hope is nothing without willpower to enact it."

This portrayal of hope as useless in and of itself is a remarkably accurate one. No one has ever effected change in the world by simply hoping it would happen. Conceived of improperly, hope surely can exist as nothing but a hollow sentiment, a futile wish that things will turn out ok. This is the hope of Disney movies and Oprah episodes, nothing but fluff when stripped to its core.

But Johns falls short of describing exactly what it is that gives hope its power. Regardless of the strength of will on behalf of those who hope, hope is ultimately defined by its object--that in which the hope in question is being placed. Those who place their hope in political leaders may thrive during the optimism of a campaign but may equally suffer when the elected later face the challenges of governing. Likewise, a man who puts hope in himself stands to go only as far as his own limited capabilities will take him.

This is why the hope of a Christian is unsurpassed. His hope lies in Christ and the redemptive victory over sin and death that was won on the cross. It is hope in one who is eternal, unchanging, and all-powerful. And it is the kind of hope that burns brightest of all.