Why Is Making a Superman Film So Hard?

Henry Cavill in Man of Steel

DC’s continued struggles to create an economically viable cinematic enterprise have reached a new low. Writing in Forbes, pop-culture critic Dani Di Placido describes DC's struggles to find something for Superman to do. You’d think an alien living in America, believing in justice and honor, would have important resonance in today’s divided cultural landscape. Perhaps movie studios, notoriously jittery about public opinion, find this too pointed.

The rush of armchair critics on FaceTube and InstaTwit have readily condemned this timidity, for obvious reasons. I’m tempted to echo these positions, because that’s low-hanging fruit. Superman’s backstory would seem ripe for utilization in today’s America. His historic connection of “the American way” with “truth [and] justice” should address our trend toward conflating Americanism with untruth, subjectivity, and avarice. This shouldn’t be a hard sell.

Yet considering the economic landscape responsible for controlling this discussion lies hidden beneath the cultural issues. Superman, Batman, and the MCU don’t just objectively exist; they are properties controlled by media conglomerates, which make remarkable money off their holdings. The rentier economy allows DC and Marvel to get wealthy by owning and licensing their intellectual property, but that wealth makes them risk-averse.

DC Comics is owned by WarnerMedia, so naturally Warner makes DC movies. WarnerMedia is America’s second-largest media conglomerate, controlling about sixteen percent of America’s media revenue. That’s slightly under half the revenue controlled by America’s first-largest media conglomerate, Disney, which owns Marvel Comics and Star Wars. Following its Fox buyout, which reduced America’s major media conglomerates from six to five, Disney controls approximately one-third of America’s media revenue.

Superman on the cover of Action Comics #1

So the continued runaway success of the MCU, and DC’s inability to compete, isn’t about the competition between these two comics companies; it’s a proxy feud between America’s two largest media corporations. As I wrote recently, talking about Martin Scorsese’s condemnation of the MCU’s box-office domination, this is somewhat misguided. Yes, major-studio franchises control America’s box office. But only two franchises, Star Wars and Marvel, are currently very successful.

And both are owned by Disney.

I’m loathe to offer suggestions to major media conglomerates for controlling their more lucrative properties, since history suggests they’ll misuse that power to further limit the government. These corporations have a history of kissing tyrannical ass to ensure their continued revenue flow: Disney itself has become particularly risk-averse since it temporarily lost China’s import market following their 1997 dud Red Corner. Conglomerates suck just fine without my help.

Nevertheless, Superman has loomed large enough in American culture for so long, that abandoning his principles to corporate timidity resembles a form of surrender. So I’ll weigh in anyway. Let’s start by remembering what made children embrace comic-book superheroes over eighty years ago: they embodied American moral convictions. They believed in the same things we believed in, and then followed through.

The runaway success of Wonder Woman should instruct DC what audiences want. The titular protagonist, who believes moral right exists as an objective force, and sets out to kill war, in the midst of history’s most pointless war ever, demonstrates what traits audiences reward with money. We want moral confidence, and a will to act upon this confidence. We want characters who remind us to do what’s right.

Christopher Reeve in Superman

Following the immense, brooding darkness of Man of Steel, many critics, including me, condemned the movie’s bleak, ends-justify-the-means attitude. Charles Moss, writing in the Atlantic, pointed out that Superman’s origins were remarkably grim and violent. But I’d suggest that misses the point. Early Superman had lite-beer socialist leanings, and his willingness (in a White, urban way) to confront slumlords and corrupt bankers, reflected America’s unexpressed urge toward revolution.

Christopher Reeve’s Superman expressed the morals of another time. Flush with cash in the post-WWII years, before media conglomerates began hoovering everything upward, this Superman reflected an era whose proletarian values were less communist, more communitarian. Reeve’s Superman busted villains whose machinations interfered with everybody’s desire to live well together, rather than punishing criminals by forcing them to live under the conditions they created.

Superheroes today must express contemporary moral sentiments. What do Americans fear today? The political insurgencies of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders bespeak distrust of political and economic establishments, including media monopolies, that serve themselves, rather than the people. Both Trump and Sanders campaigned against a fossilized social order stealing from the people. What if Superman, and the Justice League generally, fought the same fight?

This would require WarnerMedia to turn against its business model. But whose hand feeds them, ultimately? The shareholders? Or ours?