Q: Really? A comic book movie? Haven’t you seen the news lately? I think we have more important matters to discuss.
A: It’s because of the news that we need to talk about this preview.
Q: Come on. Comics aren’t real. They’re imaginary.
A: You want to change what’s going on anywhere, ever? Or change anything about your life? First you’ll need to dream up new possibilities. That requires imagining them before putting them into action. Imagination is essential for creativity.
Q: But comics oversimplify everything. The real world is messier. There’s no such thing as a hero or villain.
A: There’s no such thing as a person who is always a hero or villain, and there are infinite ways and degrees of being heroic and villainous, but heroism and villainy both exist. Fiction’s technique of exaggeration makes it easier to recognize these realities.
Q: This is a two-minute movie preview. How could it possibly matter?
A: Because Superman is a metaphor for the United States. He’s a personification of the country, and so he gives us a way to imagine our collective self. Here, watch the preview, then we’ll talk more.
Q: Ok that was pretty good.
A: Pretty good? It was fantastic! But see how Superman represents the USA? He’s big, he’s strong, he wears red and blue. He’s dedicated to truth, justice, and the American way, meaning ever-expanding if imperfect democracy. He’s also white and male, two traits which have dominated the national culture since day one.
When the preview opens Superman plummets down onto a barren snowscape, grievously wounded. He’s paralyzed, bleeding, barely able to breathe. Lying helpless in the snow, he is our damage, our trauma. A mournful rendition of the John Williams Superman theme music from 1978 plays in what sounds like a minor key, giving voice to the nation’s failures, disappointments, dashed dreams.
Then the scene changes to Lois Lane and Clark Kent meeting for the first time in the offices of a newspaper called The Daily Planet. In other words, they are citizens of the world dedicated to telling the truth, exposing evil, and also selling newspapers. The first time he sees her, Clark looks up at Lois, which is a sign of respect, looking up to someone else. This is an image of a man seeing and honoring a woman for who she is: smart, capable, confident.
We cut back to Superman immobilized in the snow. He manages to whistle, and who comes running at super-speed but the utterly winsome Krypto the Superdog. Krypto is an image of the nation’s soul. He represents our capacity for many blessings: love, loyalty, connection. Happiness, strength, stamina. Courage, companionship, the ability to play. The soul responds to the slightest summons. And where does Superman need Krypto to take him? Home. Home to himself, or his deeper nature before everything went sideways. Krypto accepts this task with exuberance and good cheer, dragging Superman through the snow by his red cape.
The scene flashes to Superman saving a young girl from an explosion by shielding her with his own body. We can protect the vulnerable. We can value the feminine.
And then, Lex Luthor. The evil billionaire CEO on a self-obsessed crime spree against whom Superman—our strength, our democracy, our values—is our only hope. Luthor’s evil is a foil for Superman, showing that Superman not only represents the nation, but also the nation’s best self. Luthor is the antagonist who forces Superman—us—to level up our soul game.
Q: Come on, not all CEOs are evil.
A: Well this one is and at the moment he’s the one we have to deal with.
The preview’s images continue: Superman contained in a jail with clear walls, meaning the country’s best self is held back by invisible barriers. A little boy in a war-torn desert raising a battered yellow Superman flag, closing his eyes, and repeating, “Superman, Superman” as though praying—the call of the innocents to our better selves, our sacred nature. Then Superman breaks out of the jail—our best self exerts its strength to be free.
A mob of angry Americans turns on Superman like a tragic autoimmune disease. In their pain and frustration, they mistakenly direct their fury at the country—the collective forces that build roads, put out fires, and fund cancer research—instead of at the billionaire interests that bleed the people dry. The mob has clearly been misled and no longer recognizes reality, even as a fire-breathing Godzilla-like monster tries to destroy the city, i.e. the culture, exactly the way a fascist coup would do.
Other superheroes whose names I don’t know swoop in, clearly illustrating the benefits of coalition and vibrant diversity. Finally Superman and Lois Lane embrace. A simple human hug, no superpowers needed, just a heartfelt connection between two Earth dwellers who care for each other.
Q: But so what? What am I supposed to do with all these metaphors?
A: The USA has done heroic things. In the 1770s we fought for the right to make our own laws. In the 1860s we fought ourselves to end the scourge of slavery. In the 1940s we fought fascism to end World War II. But we’ve also done horrible things. We committed genocide against Indigenous nations, we enslaved generations of Black people, we caused mass suffering in pointless wars from Vietnam to Iraq, we never fully addressed the racism that gave rise to slavery in the first place. And now evil forces have invaded the government to dismantle the democracy our forebears worked so hard to create.
I hear a collective invitation in this preview to make like Superman and return home to our true selves in order to heal, build our strength, and get heroic once again. I think we have to reckon with our whole selves—our history and our potential—in order to summon up our best selves each in our own way, in our own communities, and all over the nation.
