‘S’ stands for…

Lois Lane doesn’t know what to make of her new friend, Clark Kent. He’s in FBI custody, and she knows he could easily bust out of his handcuffs and take down the building if he wanted to. He’s wearing a red cape and a Kevlar-like suit with what looks like an “S” emblazoned on the front. Clark (British newcomer Henry Cavill) explains it’s a symbol from his planet, not an “S.” Lois (Amy Adams) says “Well, on Earth, it’s an ‘S.’ Maybe it stands for ‘S—.”

And then a squelch of microphone feedback cuts her off before she can finish naming him.

Warner Bros. Pictures takes an unusual approach in its $225-million reboot of the Superman series: it doesn’t even want to spell out its hero’s name. But Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel (which premiered on MOA’s IMAX screens in 3D) is different in many ways. First, it’s co-written by Christopher Nolan, who’s wrapped up one superhero trilogy (Batman) and may just inherit another. And director Snyder adds his own 300-type grittiness to the proceedings.

The look is established in the film’s opening scenes on Planet Krypton, which is experiencing a cataclysmic energy crisis: too much terra-forming other worlds and depleting its own heating core is causing the planet to perish. Meanwhile Jor-El (Russell Crowe) is assisting his wife Lara Lor-Van (Ayelet Zurer) in giving birth — the old-fashioned way. This babe, you might have guessed, is destined to land on Planet Earth where he will be raised by a Kansas family called the Kents.

But not so fast. Evil General Zod (Michel Shannon) wants to stop Jor-El from sending his son abroad before the meltdown, because he wants to preserve the Kryptonian bloodline and perhaps terra-form some other suitable planet — after wiping out its inhabitants, of course.

Snyder’s Krypton has an interesting look — you either groove on its Flash Gordon outfits and German Expressionist shadows and angles, or you find it all laughable. (I chose to groove on it.) Krypton fashion is decidedly retro-futuristic, with big collars and winged shoulder pads. Shannon is in high scenery-chewing mode here — he specializes in playing irritating psychopaths — and presents a Zod even more menacing than Terence Stamp in Superman II: all Prince Valiant bangs, glowering eyes and evil soul patch (you know: that fugly beard thingy he sports). The outfits do remind you of Planet Mongo circa 1930s Buster Crabbe serials, though. And every time you look at Shannon, you can’t help thinking of Fritz Lang movies like Metropolis or M.

Back on Earth, young Clark is trying to grapple with his almost limitless powers. Adoptive parents Jon and Martha (Kevin Costner and Diane Lane) teach him right from wrong, but mostly try to impart how his superpowers could radically alter mankind’s history. So he has to refrain from beating up bullies, occasionally saving drowning schoolkids and other flashy displays of heroism. This need to hide his abilities leads Clark to a drifter’s life, and eventually to the truth about his own identity in the frozen north (in what will become the Fortress of Solitude, one imagines).

Lois Lane enters the picture as a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist who can’t convince her editor Perry White (Laurence Fishburne) that she met a guy from another planet. Well, in this age of loose journalistic ethics and dwindling newspaper circulation in the US, you’d think White would jump on such a story to boost sales. But it’s all academic, as the rebel remnants of Krypton arrive on earth in a scary show of force to drag away Kal-El (Clark’s real name).

This mostly resembles the plot of Superman II, minus Gene Hackman’s Lex Luthor. Of course, having seen that 1980 flick recently, let’s just say the special effects here are a wee bit more, er, sophisticated. With a budget of $225 million, they ought to be. This Superman reboot has had some legal trouble getting started (the Siegel family which owns the character was in litigation against the studio about using the name), so maybe it’s no wonder that they don’t throw around the “S” word too often. Then, of course, the project went through a roster of potential directors — Guillermo del Toro, McG, Robert Zemeckis, Darren Aronofsky, Ben Affleck — before finally settling on 300 director Snyder.

Snyder brings a freshness to Man of Steel that was absent from Bryan Singer’s forgettable Superman Returns from 2006. He likes big-scale set-ups, and is especially fond of smashing skyscrapers to bits. He does tend to focus on fight scenes too much, piling one brawl on another until you start to feel sorry for all the busted concrete.

And there’s another worrying trend in today’s superhero movies: the way they exploit 9/11 imagery. Both Iron Man 3 and Man of Steel focus on buildings crashing down as city dwellers run away in panic, along with images of plummeting bodies. The connection with 9/11 photos and videos is unmistakable, and feels tasteless at times. I guess time is supposed to heal people’s collective memory of that real-life horror; but does Hollywood have to continually appropriate such imagery to sell tickets?

All in all, this is a somewhat darker, more brooding (emo?) version of Superman for modern audiences. But there’s still time for a little romance: Cavill and Adams generate a few convincing moments of love interest, though he’s mostly seen rescuing her from one earthward plummet after another — and planting her, feather-like, on the ground. For a Pulitzer Prize winner, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of self-preservation instinct.

There are some points in the script about mankind finding a new path for its future, one joined with Superman’s otherworldly powers. References are made to not depleting the planet’s natural resources, and not sending drone technology out to spy on citizens. There’s an interesting counterpoint between Superman saving the world, while Perry White is simultaneously saving a woman who’s pinned beneath a collapsed building beam — something to the effect of “every person’s effort counts,” or “we’re all Superman.” And just in case you thought the plot had abandoned God completely, Kal-El is shown conferring with a priest, who offers the usual advice: listen to your heart, etc. 

As Kal-El, Cavill may not be a household name, but he acquits himself well enough. He tends to furrow his brow too much, but I guess that’s how it is when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

But the real scene stealers here are Shannon, Costner and Crowe. It’s a testament to Shannon’s effectiveness that, by the end, you don’t want Superman to win so much as you want Shannon to die. Badly. Costner brings a fatherly dignity to his role, coaching Clark in the ways of the world (just in time for Father’s Day). And Crowe, as my wife said, is “always a comforting presence” in a movie, “as long as he doesn’t sing!”

Hmm… a musical Superman franchise. I smell a Tony!