Super - A Review

A social outcast notices that crime is rampant and the police force is powerless to stop it. Wondering aloud why nobody has ever tried to become a real superhero, the outcast dons a spandex costume, grabs a weapon, and becomes an unlikely vigilante and folk hero. During his travels he finds a kindred spirit in a younger female. Together, they bring down the biggest crime lord in the city, and learn a lesson in confidence, determination, morality and sacrifice.

This movie was called Kick Ass.

A social outcast notices that crime is rampant and the police force is powerless to stop it. Wondering aloud why nobody has ever tried to become a real superhero, the outcast dons a spandex costume, grabs a weapon, and becomes an unlikely vigilante and folk hero. During his travels he finds a kindred spirit in a younger female. Together, they bring down the biggest crime lord in the city, and learn a lesson in confidence, determination, morality and sacrifice.

This movie was called Super.

I don't know the details concerning the development of Super, so I can't rightfully accuse it of plagiarism. It may just be a happy coincidence. Or it may just be the latest example of the Deep Impact/Armageddon phenomenon. But based on the gap between release dates, it's hard not to point fingers.

At any rate, the film wasn't totally without merit, so don't cast it aside quite yet. Super is the antithesis to Kick Ass. Where Kick Ass was the story of young man trying to make the world a better place, Super is the story of a full-fledged adult going off the deep end, head first into an empty pool. We are supposed to recognize with Kick Ass. We are supposed to fear and pity The Crimson Bolt.

Our hero, Frank D'Arbo, is not a likable person. He's barely sympathetic. He's mentally unstable, an emotional trainwreck, and if you cheer for him, you are clearly misinterpreting the film. Frank's wife abandons him for an unspecified evil drug-dealer/strip joint owner/mafia boss, causing Frank to hallucinate, believing himself to be tapped by Christ to clean up the world.

Handcrafting his own costume, wielding a pipe wrench, and dubbing himself "The Crimson Bolt," Frank brings his concussion-inducing brand of justice to drug dealers, child molesters, and line jumpers alike. Along the way, he meets 22-year old Libby, a comic book geek fresh from the Jonah Hill school of acting. Weaseling her way into Frank's affairs, she adopts the mantle of "Boltie," kid sidekick.

Super won't be appearing at your local multiplex. There are many questionably over-the-top scenes of depravity, gore and psychotic assault. This film starts out campy, but during the second act, it turns dark. It wasn't even submitted to the MPAA for rating. You'll have to seek out a locally owned and operated theater where the programming director has the cajones to show such a film.

What separates Super most from Kick Ass is how the superheroes are portrayed. Kick Ass was ineffective, but he had noble intentions. With proper training, equipment and planning, he turns into a formidable force. The Crimson Bolt, however, is just a psycho. Imagine if Travis Bickle was a fat guy who put on a mask and cape. He doesn't plan, ever. He just gets bigger and more weapons. He never exercises, and he wails upon anybody who upsets him. Boltie is even worse, being one step above a San Diego ComicCon attendant in terms of skill, attacking anybody who even looks at her funny, laughing like a maniac all the way. Why do the hot ones always have to be crazy?

I describe Super as being 1/8 Edgar Wright, 1/8 Sam Raimi, and 3/4 Ed Wood. It passes frequently into the 'So Bad Its Good' territory, but that's its saving grace. Rainn Wilson, Ellen Page, Kevin Bacon, and Nathan Fillion are spot-on perfect with their hamminess. They, along with the entire supporting cast, are so over-the-top, you get suckered in by the complete insanity of the film. And insanity is available in abundance. Throughout the course of the film, people have their skulls cracked open by wrenches, peoples faces get blown off, people are on the business end of pipe bombs, somebody gets scalped and has their brain poked at with a corn dog, somebody takes glass shrapnel to their face, and there is an onscreen rape.

And that's the beauty of it. That the filmmakers had the sheer audacity to show us this violent imagery. It's refreshing that no matter how far we've come, how far we go, and how much we see as film fans, we can till be shocked and titillated. There is no upper limit, and as long as we can stomach the gory imagery of an evisceration, it's actually quite fun.

If you're looking for a good movie, you'll be sorely upset. If you want a superhero-themed Grindhouse movie that makes Darkman look like Underdog, I recommend it.