Old Article: Worst Week Ever - Fanboy's Complaint

Here's an old article I wrote in response to the release of X-Men 3:

We’ve recently cleared the halfway mark of the double zeroes and it been a good decade for comic book companies. In the 1990s superheroes were so played out, and anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of the Justice League was relegated to the loser table at the cafeteria. But now, in the time it would take for you to say “Let’s go, bub,” a comic-adapted movie will be coming to theatres near you. Fantastic Four, Sin City, X-Men, Batman, Punisher—hell even the Man-Thing got a made-for-TV movie. I wouldn’t have a problem with the revival of comic book movies except for one minor hitch—they all suck!

This issue really started nagging me when I heard about X-Men 3 coming out in theatres over the summer. Considering I had seen the first two X-Men, I was less than thrilled. See, I have to admit something—I am a big X-Men fan. I keep tabs on these characters as if they were my children. I could tell you every sex partner Cyclops has ever had, I could list every non-mutant member of the team. As a hardcore fan, I get offended by the horrid bastardizations portrayed on the screen. Any characterization done is painfully one-dimensional and the plotlines are so bad even a five-year-old can see its flaws. The major franchises suck any interest and depth out of a character in order to condense him or her down to a tight leather suit and a catchphrase.

Normally I’d worry about other things (like finding a job or graduating) but one of my favorite X-characters is going to appear on the big screen: Psylocke. To the average layman, she’s best described as “that Japanese chick with the purple hair, psychic knives, and a British accent” but to a fan she is so much more.
Understandably, the plotters can’t get into her history, which is at best convoluted and at worst incomprehensible. While her body is Japanese, she began her life as a British Caucasian telepath and sister to famed superhero Captain Britain. Later on, she has her eyes ripped out in her brief stint as a solo superhero, was kidnapped by a fat television-crazed mogul and given bionic eyes, joined the X-Men, died saving the world from an interdimensional demon, resurfaced in Australia, picked up some nifty armor, died again escaping cyborgs, was reborn and taken into custody by a Hong Kong kingpin allied with a mystical cult leader, forcibly switched bodies with a Japanese assassin, died again saving the X-Men from a feral psychopath, was reborn via mystical means, lost her psychic powers, gained telekinesis, died again to a Spanish nutcase, and was reborn (in her Japanese body) by her mad reality-warping brother. And that’s just the abridged version. (And for you curious folks out there, yes I will devote massive amounts of brain space to remembering this but will still forget to call my parents on their birthdays.)

I fear that when she makes it to the cutting room floor, she’ll become “sexy no-personality villainess for Wolverine to stab.” It has precedent, check out Lady Deathstrike in X2. Did she have lines?—No. Did she have a history?—No. Come to think of it, she was also Japanese. And we had a Caucasian (or blue) counterpart in the first X-Movie—Mystique. Arguably, she was better developed, but not by much.
I can’t even get into the liberal misinterpretations in other Marvel movies (Typhoid Mary is a member of the Hand? Spider-Man can hold up the side of a building?? The Kingpin is black???). I try not to be vocal about it because the laymen will complain: “God, you’re being so anal. Can’t people have their own opinions about a character?” Of course they can—if the characterization at least remotely resembles the premise. What makes Spider-Man so loveable has nothing to do with raw strength (which he doesn’t have—he’s a scrawny lightweight in the superhero muscle department), but his ingenuity and agility (traits he rarely exhibits in any of the movies). The concept of Rogue isn’t that she’s some shy teenager with space issues; it’s that she put her first boyfriend and a superhero into a coma and any sort of contact can kill. Wolverine, though—he’s pretty much spot on as a hairy berserker.

So yeah, comic book nerds are having the worst week ever. But the people who really deserve a foot in the ass are the faux-fans who clamor for more of this bastardized garbage. All you wannabe geeks and hipsters want to prance around in your Ziploc tight pants and black-rimmed glasses pontificating about how cool you are because you like “alternative stuff” that would get kids beaten up in junior high. Stop appropriating and learn the franchise! Don’t act like you are a know-it-all on comics because you can pronounce “telekinesis” correctly. Stop pretending your Urban Outfitters graphic tee is from the Salvation Army (I know that had nothing to do with my point, but it needed to be noted).

And hey, Marvel and DC, do your share for the die-hard fans. Quit with the antiquated morals. Please stop with the soliloquies on how great power and great responsibility go hand in hand. If I wanted an after-school special, I’d buy a School House Rock DVD. All that “Love and Piece” crap is real cute, but I want to see some hardcore kick-ass fighting, combined with a decent storyline that doesn’t have plot holes you could drive a tank through. Also, hook Halle Berry up with some decent lines. If I hear “What happens to a magnet when it gets struck by lightning?” I will fly to Hollywood, slap every screenwriter, director and producer and demand my money back.

In the words of the ineffable Stan Lee: ’Nuff said.