Years ago, I saw a program on tv that has stuck with me for years. In the huge glut of reality television shows, among the invitations to be millionaires and smarter than a fifth grader, there was a little series called, Who Wants to Be a Superhero.
It was not well reviewed. (warning here about some truly awful language in that wapo piece)
But the more I think about it, the more I admire the way it was constructed and the things it was trying to say. It was only on for a couple of seasons and was not ever terribly popular. It couldn’t compete with shows where we watch people betray each other or seduce each other. No one wanted to see people who wanted to save the world compete to be better heroes.
There was a spinoff series in the UK that featured children.
It wound up being at the center of a controversy as the Daily Mail tried to present it as child exploitation. Naturally this meant that the journalists at the Mail harassed their families and were eventually enjoined by the court to protect the identities of the children shown on the program. I don’t think cynicism always sells better than hope, but that is where we are today.
Thursday, the Trump Administration unveiled VOICE, a system that was supposed to be for people to report crimes committed by illegal aliens. This is in the news today, primarily because people were trolling it with calls about spaceships and ALF. There were already systems in place for reporting crimes: calling 911 works for anybody, legal resident or not. But there’s something deeply depressing about this step, especially after the ramped up enforcement of the past months.
Yes, that is a story about a domestic violence victim who is being deported for trying to get help when she was being beaten at home. This is not heroism. This is not safety. This is our country making a choice: we would rather let violent people be free if they have papers, and we will punish their victims for believing in the law.
I was thinking about superheroes. And about how good people can become so focused on goals that they forget how to be heroes.
Ironically, this idea was tackled just last year, in two films: Batman V Superman was about how Batman became so obsessed with the idea that Superman’s power was beyond measure, making him a potential threat to humanity and Earth itself. I was shocked when I saw it, because it was so dark and hateful. I have never really liked Batman (I’m a Marvel girl) because he is so clearly a vigilante, and, of all the major superheroes, he is the most attainable model for regular human beings. The steps to become Batman are: get a lot of money, learn to hit people and evade the police. His character has always been an exercise in cynicism, not justice. He represents the frustration we feel at the system that often lets criminals escape because of burdensome rules.
This was never depicted more clearly than in Zack Snyder’s film. (Spoilers follow… )
When Superman appears before Congress to testify about being a superhero, Lex Luthor blows up Congress to frame Superman for Batman’s benefit. The movie moves on from their perspectives alone, as if the destruction of all those lives, people elected to be representatives of a country of hundreds of millions of people, only matters because that one guy Batman knew was there. When Batman and Superman are fighting to the death, Batman stops only because their mothers have the same name and Superman says it as he is being pounded.
The other film that overtly tackled this was the Avengers sequel, Civil War. The themes in both films are similar: can powerful people be trusted? What happens to ordinary people caught in world changing events? How do we determine how much force is necessary in pursuit of justice?
How do we make a safe world that isn’t predicated on terror?
What makes a person a hero?
I’m looking to you, Stan, because you managed to explore those questions. We need fiction to find our way to utopia. We need stories to help us tolerate the frustration built into our justice system. Without hope, we give in to hate. It is so easy to focus on yourself, and your own success, without thinking of others. And this may be cheesy, but that doesn’t make it less true. When Who Wants to be a Superhero first aired, the very first episode featured a trick played on the contestants. They were told to run a race. And it took them past a crying child.
I mean really. These are people who wanted to be superheroes. How many people do you think walked right past her?
Every day, regular people decide to stand up for each other. And every day, regular people also walk past the poor, the needy, the hungry, the wounded, all because we do not have time to help them all. Our culture drives us to shut down our empathy.
It’s time to wake it up. You’re not a hero if you’re breaking up families. You’re not a hero if you’re arresting people who come to you for help.
It’s not in the costume.
