While I was back home this weekend, Erika and I went to see Talledega Nights. Like Anchorman, The Ballad of Ricky Bobby is about a guy that thinks he’s got a good grasp on who he is and what he’s becoming, only to find that myth shattered and rebuilt into something better. Will Ferrell is great at playing these clueless egomaniacs, and overall the movie is great.
My favorite scene (again, like Anchorman, most of the scenes have a liberal use of ad libs) is the prayer at the dinner table. Ricky Bobby likes to imagine Jesus as the baby in the manger, and prays to him as such. Others imagine him as a ninja, or a figure skater. It’s great to hear these conversations that I grew up with (usually around Thanksgiving or Christmas) finally make it to the big screen.
There’s some flat notes in the movie (Molly Shannon is just annoying), but overall it’s a great movie to just enjoy for pure fun. The ending is unexpected (playing off of cliche movie endings that should fit), and while there are some crude moments, the film has heart. It will easily be quoted (”Help me, Tom Cruise!”). Be sure to stick around for the bloopers and edits during the credits.
A few years ago I reviewed Spiderman 2, and quoted a Newsweek article:
Much has been made of the fact that “Spider-Man” was the first post-9/11 blockbuster, and the conventional wisdom is that the film was a phenomenon because America needed heroes again. But maybe it’s something more. To the rest of the world, the superhero symbol of the United States is Superman—broad shouldered, unconflicted, virtually indestructible. For decades, we’ve preferred to see ourselves that way, too. Spider-Man is none of those things. He’s burdened by self-doubt. He wants to do the right thing, but isn’t always sure what that is. He’s constantly forced to choose between helping others and helping himself. He looks tough, but he’s easily injured. In America after September 11, Superman was who we wanted to be. Spider-Man was who we were.
I wrote that Spiderman is a better superhero, the best actually, because he embodies a little bit of all of us. It’s the story of the frail finding strength, the weak becoming powerful. Superman was a has-been of the early 20th century, irrelevant to the reality of our times.
But I was wrong. Bryan Singer has managed to create a movie that restores the glory of Superman, giving him a unique and necessary voice within the superhero genre (and our lives too). The story picks up after Superman returns after years years of soul-searching among the stars, and the wreckage of Krypton. The world has moved on, especially Lois Lane, who has won a Pulitzer prize the her story “Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman.” (It’s apparent that Superman was gone on 9/11, causing much of the disdain for his disappearance.)
Superman returns to show that the world, does indeed, need a savior. They are striving after one, crying out everyday for rescue. Marlon Brando reprises his role as Jor-El, and has this to say: “Even though you’ve been raised as a human being you’re not one of them. They can be a great people, Kal-El, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you… my only son.” For all the melancholy, troubled superheroes we worship, Superman shows us that we still fall short. We need a savior, someone stronger, faster, more powerful than we can ever dream. We need a light to show the way. The Christ imagery throughout the film develops the concept of why Superman truly resonates with us as humans. We have a distinct need for someone greater than we are. And when we find someone who is our Savior, our lives are changed. Even when Superman is unable to save the day, we still want him back, to try again. Deep down, I think that, even when we feel that God has let us down, we desperately want him to try again.
Just hearing the Superman Theme (now my ringtone), it gives you this sense of wonder, of freedom, knowing that there is something still inherently good in this world. We just need to look up in the sky.