Capes and criticism hound prestigious filmmaker

Martin Scorsese finds himself in the crosshairs of cape fans.

The famed director caught hell from some superhero aficionados recently for his opinion that Marvel movies — epics about Captain America, Thor, the Avengers, and the like — are not “cinema.” He clarified those comments in a Nov. 4 op-ed for The New York Times in which he said that, while he recognized Marvel movies are skillfully made by talented people, they are ultimately little more than product.

“What’s not there is revelation, mystery or genuine emotional danger,” Scorsese writes. “Nothing is at risk. The pictures are made to satisfy a specific set of demands, and they are designed as variations on a finite number of themes.”

He also likened Marvel movies to theme parks, presumably because audiences get the same programmed thrills while watching them that they get from a good roller coaster — some predetermined highs and lows, a few screams, but ultimately a safe return to the ground.

Nothing in Scorsese’s comments indicates he is dismissive of Marvel movies, just that they aren’t for him, that they are indicative of a larger trend in movies and culture in general where singular efforts by auteurs increasingly take a backseat to entertainment by committee, where the goal is less about an original experience than about selling audiences more stuff at a later time.

Part of the problem, too, is that Hollywood, book publishers, the video game industry and television networks prefer serial fiction, where characters are chess pieces and where the board is eventually reset for the next match.

Spider-Man must always be angsty and tormented in his personal life, no matter how many triumphs he experiences when he puts on his costume. Superman must always fight for truth, justice and the American way. The Shadow has to know.

This is hardly new. Sherlock Holmes, whose first adventure was published in 1887, must always emerge triumphant and ready to solve the next crime or else forfeit being Sherlock Holmes. In which case, the stories stop, and the money to be made from new stories stops, as well.

This is a truth that Holmes creator Arthur Conan Doyle learned all too well when he killed the character in an attempt to transition to other types of writing. Reader response was so critically vocal that Doyle relented and brought the great detective back from the dead — and the cash cow continues to give milk today.

Sure, writers can upend the status quo and stretch the premise a little. Captain America might stop being a superhero for a year or two, Superman might reveal his secret identity to the world (something he is scheduled to do this month in the comics), and Iron Man might go broke.

But changes in serial fiction are, by and large, more about the illusion of change than about real change. Which is why secondary characters in various Marvel movies are often more interesting than the heroes themselves. These B-level characters can really evolve. They can take surprising action. They can die and stay dead.

The real heroes cannot, because if they do, they can’t be back in their appointed places a month or a year from now, ready to entertain in the next big saga — and to sell more toys, games, breakfast cereals and Happy Meals.

As a longstanding superhero fan, I accept these limitations as part and parcel of the experience, but it does affect my emotional investment in whatever big epic is currently conquering the box office. Iron Man’s death in the latest Avengers’ movie is emotional, sure, but I’ve seen him die, and come back, before, so I know that even if Robert Downey Jr.’s contract is up, somebody will eventually be Iron Man again.

And, as a result, while I enjoy the heck out of Marvel and DC movies, not a single one of them has ever cracked my top ten list of favorite films and probably never will, because nothing in them is ever permanent, and the only event that will ever truly kill these heroes is audience indifference.

Ultimately, low readership and poor box office receipts are a much bigger nemesis to superheroes than Martin Scorsese will ever be.

chris.schillig@yahoo.com

@cschillig on Twitter