The new-age superhero

Modern audiences, maturing superheroes.

The modern superhero fights a very different set of battles from the laser-eyed cartoonist of the previous generation. Pattinson’s Batman, the latest Thor, Keaton’s Birdman (if you can count it), and now the Corenswet Superman. A line of heroes, just as muscular and powerful, but fighting villains of a much different form than the typical green malevolent; those of inner purpose, their emotional childhoods, and the court of public opinion.

Having moved on from coldly banishing whatever threat faces the entire planet and flying off into the sunset, the protectors of our world are sunk by problems far more sensitive and tender. Pattinson’s Batman struggles to reconcile his public perception, the duties and responsibilities he feels bestowed on him by the people of Gotham, with his inner sense of inadequacy.

The Thor of Marvel’s most recent efforts has become something of a big, muscly laughing stock, reduced to a slobbishness which renders him daunting now only due to his cheese-dust-encrusted fingers.

Michael Keaton’s Birdman, or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance, sits in a different class, even among these more considered superhero movies. Riggan Thompson, a has-been superhero actor haunted by his past role

as Birdman, battles a debilitating insecurity, a fractured sense of identity, the burden of his past fame, and a longing for artistic validation. Birdman, not so much a superhero movie as an exposé of life after fame, sets a precedent and draws a blueprint for the modern superhero; strong and dynamic, but ponderous and sensitive all the same.

David Corenswet’s Superman fits somewhere in the middle. Recognisably heroic, Superman flies, zaps lasers out of his eyes, catches buildings, and all the rest. He’s not the laughable bum that Thor has been reduced to, but he’s not a tentative, inert figure like Birdman either. Rather, Superman’s typical dynamism is shaken when he learns that his parents’ intention for his move to planet Earth was not the altruistic mission he thought it was, but far more

self-interested; and in this discovery, he finds his purpose uprooted. Against this despair, Clark Kent fights his true battles in this film; celebrating his humanity, finding his purpose, and choosing, as his foster father reminds him at the end of the film, to celebrate the way he received his parents’ message, rather than their intended instructions.

The formula makes sense – for all-powerful, invincible demigods, what physical problem could possibly be as threatening as losing their purpose, or public disapproval, or feeling like they’re no longer needed?

But why at this time? As the audiences of these original films grow and mature, so too must the heroes and, in turn, their priorities. Ultimately, these

superhero movies are moral lessons for children, about the triumph of good over evil, the importance of justice, and the rewards you get for doing the right thing (or the punishments you receive for trying to step out of line). And those are good lessons to teach an eight-year-old, but once that child grows up, they need to learn more sensitive lessons. So all of a sudden, Superman isn’t just showing you that it’s important to stick up for those around you, but that you have to find a purpose, and you need to be able to support yourself in that purpose, even if those around you are falling away.

Batman no longer preaches only the ill fate of those who bend the arm of the law, but that constantly showing a brave face to the world only makes you more miserable, and doesn’t work anyway. Our heroes mature in line with their audiences, so that their moral lessons remain pertinent.

The other noticeable development in these comic-book adaptations is an increased politicisation. Though it couldn’t seem to decide exactly where it stood on the matter, Superman made some explicit references to the Israel-Palestinian dispute and the imposition of the US on foreign affairs – Lex Luthor even gets caught illegally selling arms to the invading army which isn’t reportedly in US interest, in a fashion which makes it hard not to think of Reagan’s Iran-Contra scandal. This is in line with a general Hollywood trend of sliding snide political remarks into its box-office hits; Mickey-17’s blatant caricature of Donald Trump, played brilliantly by Mark Ruffalo, 2023’s The Marvels’ exploration of the refugee crises and environmental exploitation, and even The Batman’s display of institutional decay and corruption.

Movies will always be a reflection of the time and space in which they were created, and to ask them to remove their political undertones would be a disservice. Ultimately, superhero stories can and will continue to inspire children with the confidence to know that their problems can be overcome. It just so happens that now, those children are grown up, and the kinds of problems they face are very different from the monsters of their childhood.