Much like the title character, Man of Steel finds itself as the progeny of two very different worlds. Writer/producer Christopher Nolan and director Zack Snyder collaborate in the hopes of combining their unique strengths into shaping a new vision of one of the most iconic fictional characters in the history of any medium, let alone comic books, and also making sure that there's something for every kind of film-goer on the planet.
Do you like character development? This film sure has a lot of it, adopting a scattered flashback format (not too dissimilar from the majority of Nolan's own films) that fills in the cracks of how Kal-El becomes Clark Kent and how Clark Kent becomes Superman, when it's supposed to be convenient for the narrative.
Do you like a lot of good actors working together? Another Nolan trademark, as the cast is littered with respected veterans, current A-listers, and, as it is tradition for Superman films, a starring turn for a relative unknown.
Do you like looking at pretty pictures? Though Nolan is hardly a slouch when it comes to his eye for visuals, Snyder's influence is deeply felt, with many images that feel like they're meant to freeze-framed and put on display in some kind of public forum.
Do you like action? It's hard not to see Snyder as the principal catalyst for the way the set pieces turn out, as a series of increasingly grander and grander moments ramp up to destruction on a scale unimagined by even the likes of Roland Emmerich, who has quite literally destroyed the world in his time.
Indeed, Man of Steel is dressed for success, and it would take considerable effort to really screw up a sure thing like. And yet, as I was leaving the theater with my brothers, I was left with a rather empty feeling towards the film, finding it to be neither bad nor good enough to provoke a strong emotional reaction to it. The brain, on the other hand, sure had a lot to chew on.
The format with which I used to describe each element of the film was not by accident, as it has helped me crystallize my thoughts in a way that finds what was indeed praiseworthy, and what has left me baffled.
First, the structure of the film doesn't work, or it certainly doesn't work in the way that Nolan and screenwriter David Goyer imagined it would. The various flashbacks feel badly inserted without much regard to how much it makes sense to the scenes that proceed or follow them. Concluding an early scene taking place aboard an exploding oil rig with a flashback to Clark struggling to cope with his powers in elementary school wouldn't seem so bad if there was a connection as to why it was relevant to the scene that transpired, but it doesn't find that connection. It's a struggle that the film fights a lot in its slower first half, as it has to tell the story of how Kal-El became Clark Kent became Superman without feeling like all the other times they've had to do this, and while there is a certain novelty to the approach, I can't say I found it to be beneficial or even necessary. There's a bit of me that feels like it would be interesting to see someone edit the film into a linear structure, but with the way the scenes are constructed now, it'd be really hard to see it work like I would hope. It's an interesting experiment, but a failed one.
Next, the film's cast is certainly not hurting for acting ability, but the film's script proves problematic for them, and not specifically for the dialogue itself (appropriately pulpy, if a bit too seriously acted). Take poor Kevin Costner, for instance; as the man who has more to do with Clark Kent becoming a good man than anyone else, Pa Kent feels criminally underutilized to the point where certain dramatic moments ring hollow in how much they seek out an emotional response. Instead of being earned moments, they happen because, well, they have to happen. Contrast this with Laurence Fishburne's Perry White; while a kinky casting decision, and one that he plays admirably, there's really no reason for Perry to even be in the film, other than to have that character around. He barely even does anything other than look concerned at the increasingly desperate situations that arise around him and his fellow journalists. And the film sure likes to make Christopher Meloni's character a big deal, despite the fact that I can't even remember his name, but know enough to confidently state that his character is summed up entirely by whatever rank he happened to be. The rest of the cast do fine work; Russell Crowe gets a surprisingly meaty role in Jor-El, Amy Adams is certainly the finest Lois Lane to every inhabit the role, Michael Shannon wisely avoids stepping on Terrence Stamp's interpretation of Zod, offering a quietly deluded but explosively violent man of action, and Henry Cavill manages to evoke Christopher Reeve where it matters most without feeling like re-warmed leftovers, as Brandon Routh was sadly tasked with in his portrayal.
It's hard to take about the visual spectacle of the film without mentioning the action set pieces themselves, which suits me just fine, as both have the same strengths and weaknesses. For someone who has been lauded for his sense of framing and steady hand in his films, Snyder makes a rather gutsy gamble by going handheld, or at least an approximation of such techniques, with the camera, suggesting that a superhero film can more introspective and unconventional than they're allowed to be. It's a very uncommon tactic to take in such a highly-budgeted film, and a risky one at that, as an intimate blockbuster has been a proven oxymoron for many years now. Snyder gets an A for effort, at least, as his bold visual idea is often a detriment to the film. What good does constant zoom-ins do during the scenes they're used in? Why would you obscure such large-scale action with a jittery camera? Why is the lens flare at J.J. Abrams levels of excess? Why does the editing of the transitions between flashback and real time feel so haphazard, and on a similar topic, how does the film's chronology begin to make sense with so very little to go on? It's hard to really enjoy the best imagery in the film when there's at least one major thing going wrong with it at all times. I like that Snyder felt the need to spread his wings on such a grand stage, but by the end of the film, I felt like throwing tomatoes at him instead of applauding his efforts.
Scenes do work, though; Superman's formal debut in the film is absolutely terrific and joyous to watch, and the rather odd and unusual take on Krypton makes you wish that the film's first 10 minutes lasted just a bit longer to soak in the pleasing visuals (perhaps a scene that shows where those "matter of weeks" went to and were spent by Kryptonians). And even though the camerawork does a good job ruining their impact, the sheer scale of the action sequence is absolutely commendable, in terms of both the imagination put into them and the quality of the visual effects that brought them to life.
As a whole film, though? In the end, it really is a Zack Snyder film through and through: pretty, yet undisciplined; big, yet vacuous; and honest, yet thoroughly silly. It's an ambitious project that never quite becomes a film.
