"Super" review

One of the best “Super” hero films ever!

With “Guardians of the Galaxy” raking in cosmological cash, no doubt aficionados of this film will seek out the earlier works of writer/director James Gunn.  They will likely be surprised to discover that Gunn only has two previous directing credits to his name, and those two tiny films stand in stark contrast to his recent big budget mega-success.  While “Slither” managed to develop a devoted following on home video, “Super” failed at the box office.  It then quickly vanished into obscurity upon DVD release, a real shame since “Super” is one of the best superhero movies I’ve ever seen.

The frenzied opening animated sequence is a jubilant musical montage, and all the characters are introduced dancing to the power pop of "Calling All Destroyers" by Tsar.  Despite the euphoric atmosphere, the lyrics of the song and the gut-splattered cartoon mayhem allude to the amoral oblivion that awaits. There is a cost to be paid for revenge, and it is painful and lasting.  “Super” has everything a comic book movie for adults should have:  it’s absurd, psychotic, and very dark.  The sexual fetishism of cosplay, the crushing pall of mundanity and succeeding delusions of grandeur are all mixed together into a roiling concoction that is whimsical yet harrowing.  “Super” perfectly balances the childhood fantasy of righteous vengeance against the often tragic repercussions of those actions in the real world.

Frank Darbo is a short-order cook who only has two good memories; his marriage to Sarah, and once showing a cop where to pursue a purse snatcher.  Crayon drawings of these moments hang on Frank’s bedroom wall for daily inspiration.  However, Frank's wife Sarah is a recovering addict, and while Frank has enjoyed their tranquil domestic life, Sarah’s boredom causes her to become seduced and once again hooked on drugs by Jacques, a sleazy strip club owner.  Frank vows to get Sarah back, but gets pummeled for his efforts.  After watching a cheesily sanctimonious TV show on the All-Jesus Network, Frank has a dream.  He sees a mask.  Frank fashions a bright red costume and embarks on a holy crusade against crime.

As the Crimson Bolt, Frank’s attempts to right the wrongs of the world within reach of his brandished crescent wrench quickly devolve into the aberrant rages of a bludgeoning lunatic.  Anyone who butts in line at the theater is clearly an asshole, but do they deserve to have their forehead split open?  Yet this is not the worst impact that Frank’s bone-crunching judgments have.  Libby, a young comic shop employee whom Frank comes to for “research” sees through Frank’s masquerade and she begs to be his sidekick.  Libby’s infatuation with superheroes is soon revealed to be so violent that she doesn’t care who gets hurt or whether they’re guilty.  Even Frank cannot condone Libby’s indiscriminate bloodlust.

Frank tries to dissuade Libby, but when she saves Frank from Jacques’ thugs and treats his wounds, he agrees to be a team again.  Their final assault on Jacques’ country house is an explosive and brutal rampage.  Now armed with guns, knives and pipe bombs, Frank and Libby commit murder after murder.  While all of Jacques’ goons likely have a long rap sheet, the severity of their crimes is moot.  All are mercilessly mown down.  However, our heroes have no super powers, and are just as subject to the finality of bullets.  Frank manages to save Sarah, but not their marriage.  She leaves him and creates a new family.  Frank is left alone again, but at least now he has more than two more good memories on his wall to look at for inspiration:  the crayon drawings from Sarah’s children addressed to Uncle Frank.

What sets “Super” apart from almost all other comic book-style films is its examination of the real devastation wrought from attempting to exact justice according to your own set of rules.  Though Frank was bullied as a kid, in the guise of the Crimson Bolt he becomes someone whose physical assaults far exceed the psychological shame suffered in childhood.  Frank’s brutal path of retaliation results in physical scars that will never fade, and he also incites further suffering by allowing Libby to trick him into beating those who have not done anything wrong.  While “Super” does not have any answers, it percussively and hilariously documents the consequences of taking up arms against a sea of troubles that cannot be plumbed with merely a crescent wrench.