I congratulate you on an excellent piece of reportage, for which I offer this point of qualification: By quoting Batman’s challenge to Superman, a matter already answered in Man of Steel during the extraction of a sample of Kal-El’s blood (click here, and jump to the 2:31 mark for footage of Krypton’s version of single-payer health care) while he is aboard General Zod’s ship, Hollywood has the roles reversed and the query wrongly framed.
For the more legitimate question is one Henry Cavill (as Superman) should ask Ben Affleck (as Batman): “Tell me, can you act?”; because, if Affleck’s career is proof of anything, it is that his best parts — the ones that draw comparisons with the work of Marlon Brando and Laurence Olivier, and that other Ben, Sir Ben Kingsley — are worthy of inclusion with these shape-shifting thespians who could, and whose surviving member still can, play everything from a Japanese villager to an English naval captain to a Sicilian crime lord to a Greek god (Zeus) to a Nazi-hunting Jew to a Nazi sadist to a half-naked pacifist to a Jewish bookkeeper to a sociopathic bank robber; since Affleck must be such a convincing actor behind the camera, before he even has a script, to convince studio executives that, despite a deficit of talent and a degree of range no greater than the space between two fingers fused together by severe burns and fetal intake of massive doses of Thalidomide, he deserves at least $20 million per film.
The. Man. Cannot. Act.
The hacker who finds the name of the Dark Knight’s acting coach deserves our praise.
Then again, how can you hack something that does not, for all intents and purposes, exist?
Riddle me that, Mr. Kushner.