Some Theories About Superhero Movie Fatigue
Some Theories About Superhero Movie Fatigue By Dan Brown You’ve probably heard of “superhero movie fatigue.” It’s the idea that the public has grown tired of motion pictures featuring the costumed do-gooders who first appeared in comic books, then made the leap to the big screen. The theory goes something like this: Superhero burnout is the reason why big-budget effects pictures starring these superpowered champions of justice are a risky bet for studios after years of sequels (and TV shows, in Marvel’s case). That’s why the superhero moment has passed at the multiplex. But is it real? Or is superhero movie fatigue a press creation? I have some theories. Theory No. 1: It’s real. The fatigue is genuine. Exhibit A would be this June’s Supergirl movie, which came and went without making a ripple in the pop culture. Made on an estimated budget of $170 million, it came nowhere close to earning its costs back with a worldwide gross of $126 million. (Numbers from the Internet Movie Database.) But if moviegoers are sick of superheroes right now, then you’d have to account for the staggering success of Spider-Man: Brand New Day, which came out in August and has grossed more than $2.4 billion (on an estimated budget of $225 million). Theory No. 2: It’s real – but it’s a superhero thing, not a superhero-movie thing. According to this line of thinking, the fatigue is part of a larger cultural reaction against superheroes. The popularity of superheroes is always waxing and waning. We may be in a period similar to the middle decades of the 20th century, when comic-book publishers moved away from superhero titles in favour of horror and romance comics. So it has little to do with the ubiquity or quality of the films being released, superpowered beings just aren’t working right now in any format. Theory No. 3: It isn’t real. Perhaps superhero movie fatigue is entirely a press creation. It’s one of those trends that media types latch onto and repeat without thought. It’s just the latest example of the conventional wisdom circulated by journalists and pundits that sounds valid, but falls apart on closer inspection and has no actual bearing on reality. If so, then you have to account for the failure of Supergirl this summer, which not even co-star Jason Momoa could save from fading into obscurity. Why wasn’t Kara Zor-el able to draw a crowd? Theory No. 4: Movie fans are way more discerning than we give them credit for being. Maybe moviegoers judge each Hollywood release on its own merits, in which case we can’t blame the box-office failures on any given movie’s genre. Genre doesn’t enter into their decisions, or at least it’s not the determining factor it may have been in the past. This would explain why some superhero flicks fail, yet others generate billions of dollars in ticket sales. Hence their selective appeal. Theory No. 5: The superhero movie as a genre doesn’t exist anymore. Movies like 1978’s Superman and 1989’s Batman and even 2002’s Spider-Man were recognizably part of the same genre. Those days may be over. You’ve probably noticed this. There are so many superhero releases now – some are comedies, some dramas, some mysteries, some kung-fu movies, some horror flicks, some space fantasies. So “superhero movie” may not be a term that applies anymore, and a film’s track record can be explained by the subgenre it belongs to. So Supergirl failed earlier this year not because it starred a superhero, but because it has a lot in common with a specific western, True Grit, and movie fans weren’t in the mood for a space western this summer. You may be asking: Why does any of this matter? Well, there’s a big superhero movie coming out at the end of year called Avengers: Doomsday, which could be the difference between a decent year for Hollywood and a great year. Not to overstate its importance, but a lot is riding on it. In fact, if Doomsday is a flop, you can bet the online pundits will scream that it was foolish of Marvel Studios to make a big superhero movie for the silver screen. On the other hand, if it does bonkers business, that will guarantee more of the same will be coming soon to a theatre near you. What do you think? I would love to hear your own theories in the comments! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 34 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
POP-CULTURE COLUMN: The Myth of George Lucas Grows
By Dan Brown George Lucas is at it again. No, not making movies. He’s at it again – mythologizing himself as the lone brave wolf who always defies the odds and the petty bureaucrats to pull off amazing feats, in this instance founding the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art in Los Angeles. The filmmaker and his wife, Mellody Hobson, appeared at a press conference last week to announce the impending opening on Sept. 22. Lucas being Lucas, he couldn’t help portraying himself in his comments to the press as a David heroically battling Goliath to find a site for the museum and have the building constructed. Except, if Bible stories are to be believed, David had only a sling and some rocks. He didn’t have billions of dollars at his disposal and connections among the world’s wealthy power brokers, as the Star Wars creator does. He’s come a long way from his humble beginnings in Modesto, Calif. "I'm used to doing the impossible,” Lucas told the assembled reporters. “This one almost broke my will." It’s entirely true that everyone makes themselves the hero of their own story. Lucas is not alone in that. It’s also true it did take him 17 years to see the museum through to completion. But it’s not like he was wasting away in the wilderness somewhere while the nasty bureaucrats tried to screw him. To borrow a line from The Simpsons, during that span Lucas had enough money to cry himself to sleep at night with his head resting on a pillow stuffed with thousand-dollar bills, if he chose. And yeah, bureaucracy is evil. No argument there. But without it, the sometime director wouldn’t have the imaginary enemy he’s always railing against. After getting “kicked out” of cities like San Francisco and Chicago, Lucas settled on Los Angeles as the location for his “temple to the people’s art.” “We still had to deal with bureaucracies and people who have contrary thinking. But we managed to make our way through all that,” he noted. Oh, no, contrary thinkers! How George must have suffered! “Part of the problem is I’m a contrarian. I don’t like to do things that people think can be done. I’m fascinated by doing things that people say can’t be done. And even when you do it, they say, ‘Well, that’s not any good. You can’t do that,’” he added. All of this self-mythologizing will sound familiar to anyone who has followed his film career. He’s never been short on stories about studio functionaries who have tried to squelch his creativity, the implication being we are all better off when George gets to do exactly what he wants. Yet the record says otherwise. As he got rich, and then even richer, and then ultra-rich, and then impossibly rich, he wrested away more control over his film projects. But the truth is he does his best work when strict limits are placed on his ambitions and ideas, when he’s boxed in. Go back and take a look at his filmography – he did his best work when he was under the thumb of the studio bosses and had strong collaborators including producer Gary Kurtz, illustrator Ralph McQuarrie, and actor Harrison Ford. At a certain point, the man gained enough power to have total control of how he makes motion pictures. And what was the end result of him amassing that power? Jar Jar Binks. At least Lucas didn’t tell the press-conference attendees he’d like to retire to his garage to make experimental films. He’s been saying that for decades, too, yet despite all of the resources he has at his disposal, they have never materialized. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 34 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
The Blues Brothers Return in Comic Form
By Dan Brown John Belushi may be dead, but Jake Blues lives on. He’s the McGuffin in the graphic novel The Return of the Blues Brothers: The Escape of Joliet Jake. You may remember him as the rotund half of the brotherhood that first appeared in the classic big-screen comedy The Blues Brothers. This 128-page sequel is aimed at the small sliver of the Venn diagram where comic fandom and Blues Brothers fandom overlap. In other words, yours truly is the target audience. The book goes off in new directions, which is a good thing, while maintaining enough of the flavour of the 1980 film to stay true to its essence. It features a new pair of brothers – a Chicago cop and a young black musician – in some familiar situations. As you may recall, the Blues Brothers were last seen performing their brand of soulful music in the Joliet Correctional Center. (This comic ignores, wisely, the awful 1998 sequel Blues Brothers 2000.) Joliet Jail is also where it begins, with Belushi’s character absconding from the prison, which is a mystery. Where did eh go? And why would the convicted felon take off just days before he was set to be released? The plot also involves a legendary briefcase containing the sheet music to unreleased blues classics. As far as the creative team goes, I hesitated before opening the book. I was put off by the fact three writers (including Dan Aykroyd’s daughter, Stella) are credited with coming up with the story and dialogue. Committee-written literature of any kind is usually a disaster – I was happily surprised, though. I need not have worried. The art is by Felipe Sobreiro, whose warm lines remind me of Robert Crumb, especially in flashback scenes. There are some updates to Blues Brothers lore. We discover that Elwood Blues has been ordained as a priest, and we learn the origin story of Curtis, the orphanage caretaker who raised Jake and Elwood, imbuing them with their love of James Brown, Aretha Franklin, and others. Some elements of the story were inspired by Dan Aykroyd’s original, telephone-book size Blues Brothers script that director John Landis wasn’t able to shoehorn into the motion picture. And although the original duo are present, they aren’t the focus of this tale. One of the messages emerging from the graphic novel: Anyone can be a Blues Brother. If you recall, a lot of far-out stuff happened in the Blues Brothers movie. When an apartment building is hit with a bazooka, it collapses, but Elwood and Jake are unharmed, dusting themselves off and walking away from the massive pile of brick and debris. There is a scene with an impossible number of police cars crashing. A nun floats on air in another. Worshippers at a church service bounce and jump in the air, reaching the ceiling. What I’m saying is: The Blues Brothers was already a comic-book movie. So offering a sequel in graphic-novel form is not such a great leap as you would imagine. One other unrealistic plot point that could only happen in the movies: A church is forced to pay taxes! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 34 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
POP-CULTURE COLUMN: Welcome To The Zany World Of 1970s Sci-Fi Art
By Dan Brown I lived through the 1970s so you don’t have to, kids! But seriously. Regardless of how old you are, you should check out the art book Worlds Beyond Time: Sci-Fi Art of the 1970s, which was published this summer. It will have special resonance if you are a Gen Xer like me who remembers the paperback and magazine covers of old. If you were a fan of writers Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Anne McCaffrey, or Michael Moorcock, you’ll grok this hefty collection of paintings. But even if you have no memories of the Me Decade, you can still learn a lot about today’s science-fiction aesthetic because many of these images still linger in the public imagination. Keep in mind this was a time when painters and illustrators had to summon depictions of spaceships, astronauts and aliens largely from whole cloth i.e. their minds. The artists represented here did have the benefit of the work done in the early decades of the century, but the genre wasn’t as ubiquitous then as it is today. There was no internet repository they could summon with a few taps on the keyboard. Nor flashy video games And yes, I got this book because it has huge nostalgia appeal for me. Born in the 1960s, I grew up in the 1970s. It was a magic time because that’s when I got my first taste of sci-fi literature. Editor Adam Rowe wisely divides the artistic output from the decade into understandable sections like spaceships, alien life, and landscapes. He then subdivides each of these broad categories into themes that recurred throughout the decade – UFOs, space cats, robots, et cetera. Individual artists – think John Berkey, Angus McKie, Boris Vallejo, and others – likewise get their own spotlight page or two. This allows Rowe to present a 222-page showcase that gives even newbie readers an accurate feel for the times. You might be wondering about movie posters, since this was the decade that saw Star Wars create an overnight explosion in interest for space fantasy. One subsection, titled Star Wars before Star Wars, collects the works that presaged George Lucas’ saga, including hairy creatures that look an awful lot like wookies and four-legged walking tanks originated by Syd Mead. There’s also strong representation of paintings originally done as covers for such Warren publications as Creepy. In short, this is a delightful volume. It provides a look at the body of work that serves as a bridge between the art of old and the art of today. It all went down in the 1970s. I can only hope it finds an audience among younger readers who haven’t been exposed to these pictures before, and provides compelling evidence that no one requires AI help to dream up lively visions of days to come. It’s also a nice companion piece for the art books that reproduce early Dungeons & Dragons art from roughly the same period. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
Concrete Returns
By Dan Brown If nothing else, the summer of 2026 will be remembered as an era when one of my favourite characters returned to comic-store shelves. Concrete is back! By my reckoning, it’s been more than 20 years since the Paul Chadwick creation lumbered into a new adventure. Concrete: Stars Over Sand is a five-part miniseries in which Concrete gets lost in a desert after being hit by lightning, suffering amnesia as part of the ordeal. It picks up pretty much where Chadwick left off in 2005. No one has ever accused him of being prolific. I urge you to pick up the new series – I’ve read the first two issues – if your tastes run to more idea-driven, thoughtful comics. For those who aren’t fans of Concrete, he first appeared in 1986. It was Dark Horse that published the title then, and does so again now. The origin story goes like this: Nebbish political speechwriter Ron Lithgow goes hiking, only to be abducted by aliens who transport his brain into a huge, stony body. They leave Earth, and Ron – realizing he can pull off feats that normal humans can’t – uses this newfound invulnerability to satisfy his thirst for adventure. He has been to the bottom of the ocean, the top of the planet’s tallest peaks, he’s rescued trapped miners, and even been the bodyguard for a Prince-type eccentric singer. He’s also constantly being amazed by the quirks of the alien shell he inhabits, like having incredible night vision. In one previous issue, he even gives “birth” to a smaller version of himself. That “baby Concrete” shows up in this new series, just as mysterious as ever. But the same rocky outer shell that shields Concrete from the elements also makes an ordinary human life impossible. He aches to express his love for researcher Maureen Vonnegut in a physical way, instead having to settle for surrounding himself with erotic paintings. Although the character’s origin has a science-fiction feel and flavour to it, Chadwick has been open about his intention to place the protagonist only in Earth-bound situations. The aliens are never coming back, and their purpose in transplanting Lithgow’s brain remains unknown. So if your favourite thing is do-gooders and baddies destroying cities while beating each other to a pulp, you’ll be unsatisfied with Concrete. He is a hero with the mind of a philosopher and the soul of a poet. How mundane are his activities? The central theme of the last Concrete series, 2005’s The Human Dilemma, was world overpopulation. Try making that idea into a visually exciting comic! Chadwick isn’t interested in violence and mayhem for its own sake. I’m one to lament the disappearance of thought balloons from mainstream comics – well, at least from Marvel’s offerings. It makes me beyond happy to report that the new Concrete story contains A LOT of thought bubbles. (Classic sound effects like KABOOM!, too.) Get Stars Over Sand while you can, because you never know when Concrete’s creator will put out more comics. At the rate he’s going today, Chadwick might not put out his next Concrete story until 2045! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
POP-CULTURE COLUMN: If You Want To Be A Star, Hide Your Face
By Dan Brown Angine de Poitrine. Count Binface. Daft Punk. What do they have in common? I couldn’t tell you what their faces look like. That’s because when these people are on the job, they wear masks. As Paris Hilton might say, masks are so hot right now. The list goes on. When Lady Gaga burst on the scene, she obscured her features, too. Toronto Bag Head is a social-media personality who wears a brown paper bag on his head to Toronto Maple Leaf games because he’s ashamed to support the perpetually underperforming team. And who could forget the hero of V for Vendetta, who hid his identity behind the facade of Guy Fawkes? I don’t know why this trend is happening at this moment in history. Indeed, it may be possible this is one of those evergreen things, and there are always entertainers or other well-known figures who would rather the general public not be able to identify them. Back in the day, the Human Fly, a Canadian daredevil, also wore a mask. As did the mummy musician Nash the Slash. The Unknown Comic was just that because he never did standup without his trademark upside-down grocery bag. Some well-known artists – I’m thinking of the street artist Bansky here – don’t put on literal masks, but they do take drastic steps to ensure their identities remain secret. All of them are, to quote the Forgotten Rebels, just shadows in the crowd. I don’t think it’s a coincidence these public figures are choosing to cover up. It feels to me like masks have a renewed urgency and a more layered meaning in our online world. One of the biggest concerns at this moment is the possibility of identity theft. It may be the most lucrative type of fraud being committed in 2026. But it’s impossible for scammers to make off with your identity if you don’t reveal it in the first place. If you’re like me, you get itchy when a company or government wants to know personal details about you for no apparent reason. Has there ever been a more pressing time to maintain your anonymity? Now, I will admit masked entertainers do have a certain kind of appeal for me. A mystique. The last thing I would want to know, for instance, is what the math-rocking duo of Angine de Poitrine look like without their costumes. I love the backstory they’ve created for themselves, that they pretend they’re from another planet. I don’t want to find out that they have balding heads and bleary eyes and acne scars like everyone else. It would spoil the mystery. It wouldn’t be as fun. And it’s beside the point. I just read the Brian K. Vaughan graphic novel The Private Eye, about a future society in which everyone wears a mask because the most important aspect of this post-internet world is being able to protect one’s privacy. All kinds of solutions pop up so ordinary folks can hide their faces, from devices like mystery cloaks to high-tech holographic masks. I hate to break it to you, but the truth is we already live in that world. So don’t expect the facial camouflage to go away anytime soon. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
