Supergirl (1984)

Director: Jeannot Szwarc

Cast: Helen Slater, Faye Dunaway, Hart Bochner, Peter O’Toole

Have I Seen it Before: During a summer day in 1997 I went to an Albertsons, got a dozen pieces of fried chicken, and rented all five of the Super-movies for ten dollars. It was a simpler time. They had good chicken.

Did I Like It: I remembered shockingly little of the film, aside from the fact that Christopher Reeve is resolutely not in it, aside from one photograph. I’d say his wisdom was on track avoiding the movie, but then he went ahead and got involved with Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987), but that’s a discussion for a different time. His conspicuous, awkward absence from the entirety of the film automatically hamstrings the affair. Even if the other elements of the film had been immaculate, there would be an illegitimacy to the whole thing without he who first made us believe a man could fly.

Honestly, it’s reputation is probably unearned, and sort of like Superman III (1983), the film was reviled in its time, but is the beneficiary of comparisons with the last film in the Reeve-series. 

Sure, it is a little hung up with painting Kara Zor-El (Slater) as a doe-eyed innocent in the mold of a Disney movie, where her cousin would always seem like he was in control of the situation, even, when he was pretending to be Clark Kent. And yet, somehow and inexplicably, there is no transition from arriving on Earth to being Supergirl fully-formed. 

Great (O’Toole) and mostly okay actors (Dunaway) are clearly slumming their way through a script so weighed down by preposterous sci-fi talk that the story, such as it is, even managed to lose me in the early minutes.

There is plenty to complain about in the film. The Salkinds display once again that the more direct control they have over the fate of the super-franchise, the more disappointing things become. But, the movie is a real movie, and the money spent makes its way to the screen. Jerry Goldsmith’s score is one of the few super-scores that doesn’t feel the need to slavishly worship at the altar of John Williams. For several sustained moments, I do believe a girl can fly. And if that weren’t enough, I was legitimately craving Popeye’s Chicken after the run time. If that doesn’t make the film at least a partial success, I don’t know what would.

Batman: Mask of the Phantasm (1993)

Director:  Eric Radomski, Bruce Timm

Cast: Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill, Dana Delany, Hart Bochner

Have I Seen It Before?: The VHS copy—I am sadly one of the many dolts who didn’t catch it in the theaters—was part of the haul of a massive tenth birthday shopping spree at Target (it went as high as fifty dollars!), twenty-six years ago today.

Did I like it?: Oh, man. At a time when Schumacher was at the helm of live-action Batman, this was hands-down the greatest feature-length story of the Dark Knight ever produced. Nolan came and the bigger movies got better. This one might have fallen a bit in esteem, but that is patently unfair. It is just as good as the Nolan films, and certainly better than either of the Zack Snyder entries with the character.

It’s equal parts competent whodunit puzzle (and it’s a shame how rarely a Batman story is also a mystery), film noir tragedy, and superhero story, all jammed into a tight 76-minute package. The moodiness that typifies people’s skepticism about Batman (Conroy) is given context (but not explicit explanation) here. He is a product of his own obsession, born in an era that made some brutal sense, but a part of an era where some degree of insanity is the only valid insurance policy. The only reason he continues to be a hero is because that obsession hasn’t completely swallowed him up, despite its best efforts and easier success with others. Other films have tried to harness this truth about the character. This one succeeds. The animation was originally intended for a direct-to-video release, and it shows, but none of us were showing up for Batman: The Animated Series for the feature-quality cels. We came for the writing… and also, it’s what was on the local Fox affiliate at that particular moment.

It also eschews many of the things that can become so de rigueur about Batman stories. At no point in this film does Martha drop her pearls. What’s more, her name isn’t even mention despite Bruce’s parents hovering like a cloud over everything. One of the Rogue’s Gallery doesn’t suck the air out of every moment in the film, either. Joker (Hamill) is here, but he’s a supporting character, a cypher. I’ve always felt the Clown Prince of Crime is like comic book wasabi. A little bit, and the flavor is surprising, perhaps even chaotic. Too much, and your mouths numb aside for the feeling of green horseradish in your mouth. Batman often works best when the supervillains are just part of the scenery; just see The Long Halloween for a master’s course in the subject. Or, better yet, give this film a view. It’s currently on Netflix, but who knows for how long?