Superman vs Glam

Full Disclosure: I've had a lot on my mind lately, as I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off in preparation for moving. Perhaps that is why I have been exhibiting some odd behaviors, such as stress eating, getting nostalgic about old movie stubs, or selecting the subject of today's blog entry would be a good idea. Spoilers: it was not.

Now, I am fully aware that reviewing Superman IV: The Quest for Peace is a common  fool's errand, that I'm hardly the first fool to walk this path. It's a carcass whose bones have been picked clean for decades at this point. However, at least before I sat down to watch the film as an adult, I had been living in a world of rose tinted glasses where this film was concerned. When I was little (that should have been the first sign, come to think of it), I remember watching this fondly. After all, this was the most over the top "comic book come to life" entry in the franchise." It's a movie where Superman was literally chasing a foe across the globe and saving people along the way. I thought it was really cool. I did mention I was a real littl'un when I first saw this film?

"How bad can it be," I remember asking my boyfriend? I remember a moment of him staring me down, as if waiting for me to blink and say, "just kidding." If only... if only...

Our film starts us off on the wrong foot. I know I took a lot of pot shots at Superman III's opening credit sequence on account of it being just incredibly silly and not the right tone setter for a super heroic adventure story. But as odd and slapstick as it was creative and demonstrated more than a modicum of effort. Quest for Peace is cheaply done and is on autopilot. It's so cheap that www.movie-screencaps.com didn't bother to include more than the main titles. Yeah, I outsourced my screen grabs this time because I couldn't fathom the thought of watching this film yet again.

I know this will sound petty in the grand scheme of things, but it's the only film without a preamble. The original one had that simple but effective use of a small child in 1939 reading Action Comics #1 and setting up the tone and spirit of the film beautifully. The second installment established Zod and his followers for those who hadn't seen the first film. Even the third film took a moment to establish it's stunt casting sympathetic antagonist, Richard Pryor. Not Quest, though. This film cuts so many corners that the final product is a sphere.

The title sequence itself is basically copies the original the way an 8-year-old copies the Mona Lisa. The same basic concept of titles and names flying in space is implemented, but whereas the original was masterful, and really gave the sense of soaring through space as the names stretch across the screen, the titles in this installment look like some was playing with WordArt. The orchestration isn't exactly a two kazoos and a jew's harp, but it doesn't quite feel like it captures the same sense of grandeur and scope of John Williams' original version. It's also a bit more allegro, making it feel quick and punchy, as opposed to the dignified, triumphant adagio of earlier films.

As the credits draw to a close, we find ourselves in space, where a cosmonaut is serenading us with a Russian rendition of Paul Anka's My Way as he does some sort of technical work on the exterior of their shuttle, and his fellow cosmonauts jokes over the intercom about his singing and call him Sinatra. I know this is a small thing, but I do enjoy that the flight crew isn't portrayed as all-male, which I think would have been tempting for an American audience, considering the first female American astronaut had only been a few years before this film's release.

Well, as one is wont to do in a Superman film, things go awry when space debris hits the shuttle, causing it to tumble uncontrollably and our Soviet Sinatra is sent hurtling through space. The John Williams theme we heard mere minutes ago plays as who should appear but our protagonist, Superman.

Get used to that shot of him flying. It gets reused a lot. I suspect that the special effects department only rented the flight harness and green screen for half an hour and they had to make do. They also don't do a very good job of incorporating him into the green screen environment. Whoever filmed this section didn't know about lighting filters (color gels) which professional cameras most assuredly had in 1987. It's embarrassingly unpolished. In today's parlance, it's like posting a selfie without picking an instagram filter.

Good thing they left the airlock open that whole time. 

Anyway, Superman sets the shuttle aright and rescues the plummeting crew member, he gives his patented corny farewell, but in Russian, and flies off. I actually like this scene for the way it sets up the Russians the same way the film's target American/Western audience would view itself. Just plain folk in need of saving. Considering the driving pulse of this film, ostensibly, is Cold War anxiety, establishing the frailty and humanity of the people on the other side of the Iron Curtain was a good way to illustrate that the Russians are just like the Americans without having to hammer us over the head with it.

Clark Kent arrives in his home town of Smallville, which in my review of Superman III, I concluded was a pocket dimension that can only be accessed by way of a wormhole in Metropolis. Clark looks melancholy and with good reason. His Martha Kent has apparently been dead for some time and he's looking after the family farm, which has a large "for sale" sign on it.

He finds himself drawn to the barn, which the careful observer of various Superman adaptations can tell you is where there is a never-ending supply of plot-relevant Kryptonian artifacts hidden. In this instance, there is a single glowing green crystal, which speaks to him in his birth-mother's voice... because they couldn't afford Marlon Brando. Mommy-crystal basically tells him that she has the power to restore him to his full power, but can be used only once. She is Chekhov's space crystals.

Subterfuge worthy of one who uses glasses as a disguise.

He is pulled away from the barn, quickly (poorly) hiding the crystal in an old coat, by the arrival of an old family friend who is also Clark's estate agent, hoping to sell the farm quickly to a developer. Clark refuses. For some reason they play baseball, and of course Clark fakes not being able to play well while realtor is horrible to him. Then as soon as he's out of sight, he hits a ball into the outer stratosphere. God, does this scene serve absolutely no purpose. We could have cut directly from the crystal, as forcibly wedged into the film as it is, and headed directly to the next scene in Metropolis and lost exactly nothing. We never follow up on Clark losing the last of his family or even the fate of the family farm. It's the most sacky of plot cul-de-sacs.

Why have the Kents held onto this for so long and in the yard of all places?

We turn our attention now to our antagonist. Lex Luthor seems to have been living his incarceration working in a rock quarry, where all the inmates are arrayed in the striped "Hamburglar" prison suits that I'm fairly certain the US Department of Corrections hasn't implemented in decades. Here, we find Lex picking the most artificial-looking posies possible and tucking it into his ascot... because of course, he does... while whistling the theme to Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, much to the chagrin of his fellow inmates, to whom Lex shows only contempt.

One does want a hint of color...

Just then, the day to day rigor of prison life is interrupted by... Duckie from Pretty In Pink. No, apparently, John Cryer is playing Lenny Luthor, but he's just as irritating as Duckie. Lenny looks like a 50's greaser by way of 80's punk/80s ambient gay.

Auditions for the Grease touring company are down the street.

I have to question the level of security this prison implements. Apparently, it's lax enough that a teenager can just drive on into the rock quarry without the slightest obstruction. Keep in mind, this prison is housing Lex Luthor, the frequently self-proclaimed "world's greatest criminal mastermind." I know that prisons exist in this sort of movie to get broken out of, but part of why it's fun to see a villain like Lex break out is because it's fun to see him outwitting the guards. And, yes, he does outwit them, but these guards are a special kind of inept. As they both (yes, apparently this high security facility only schedules two guards for this entire work site) rush at Lenny, instead of taking him to task, they are instantly enthralled with his tricked out convertible.

Honestly, I'm scratching my head over it. First of all, he has a decal of his name that runs the full length of the sides. "LENNY." He paid money for that. 'Kay... Secondly, there's his sound system. My boyfriend laughed at what Lenny refers to as a "Sensurround 100," better known as the precursor to the modern woofer. To me, writing in 2016, it just looks like he has a bunch of naval air horns strapped to the outside of his car and twisted inward, which makes me wonder how he uses it when the convertible and/or the windows are up. Said sound system is blasting and he has on a set of headphones. Lenny might be an idiot.

Your tax dollars at work. 

It doesn't take much encouragement for Lenny to convince these two woefully stupid prison guards (who, btw, started off this scene rushing up to Lex and yelling at him for not working hard enough) to climb into this sketchy Lennymobile. That's when Lenny whips out a remote control that had been disguised as a Walkman (kids, ask your parents) and takes control of the car at a distance, with Lex narrating each phase of the car stratagem. Despite the fact that these two trained guards clearly can tell that something is amiss, they seem too incompetent to do anything as the windows and the convertible top go up, and the seats go back, trapping them inside as they scream their heads off. Then Lenny drives the RC Lennymobile flying off a pit and into a ravine, resulting in a mushroom cloud of smoke. Those two bozos were all that stood between Lex and his latest prison break. But don't worry, the filmmakers put in a shot of them crawling out of the pit, just in case we were worried about these two guys for whom we had absolutely no emotional investment. Yeah, they're gonna be okay, so no nightmares tonight, guys.

As Lex and Lenny make their pretty casual escape, Lex compares his nephew to Dutch Elm Disease when a simple thank you probably would have been more appropriate. Lenny asks Lex whether he's going to get out of the country while he can. Instead, Lex replies that he has had only one thing in mind since he's been incarcerated. And Lenny chimes in so they can both say in unison, "Destroy Superman." It makes me just wonder how many holiday family dinners Lex attends where all he does is turn every conversation around to how much he hates Superman. At Thanksgiving Dinner, when all the other Luthors are going around the table saying what they're most thankful for, Lex just says, "I'm thankful no-one has destroyed Superman before I get an opportunity to."

They're not even pretending NYC is Metropolis

Back in the Lower Manhattan district of Metropolis, I'm starting to worry whether either anything in this city works properly or if Lois Lane is a shit magnet. She's walking toward the subway while brushing up on her French, and boards a car just in time for the doors to close on her loyal puppy of a co-worker, Clark. Of course, the daily commute goes awry when the car conductor apparently has a heart attack or maybe a seizure, and starts plowing past stops. Lois shouts and despite 6 years, Margot Kidder still hasn't lost that throaty two-packs of cigarettes a day timbre as she shouts for help. Clark has to jump into a phone booth (which by the late 80s were already becomeing rare, let alone in a subway), Supes up and flies down the subway tunnel to save the day.

You really have to wonder about what life is like for ace reporter Lois Lane. Once the subway car is safely stopped, she doesn't even seem to contemplate the danger or even seem thankful for her survival. Instead, she seems a little miffed that the Man from Krypton didn't stop for some chitchat after he rescued her. I guess we all have our crosses to bare, Lois.

Clark arrives at work where we find that The Daily Planet is now the subject of a hostile takeover. Their new boss, Mr. David Warfield, is a lot like Ross Webster, the head villain from the previous entry in the franchise. As he disparagingly reads through previous installments of the Planet, Perry White asks Warfield if he's only reading the headlines. Warfield's answer: he only reads the ledger. He's here to cut corners (including Lois' trip to France) and turn the paper into whatever it needs to be to start turning a profit. That's right, guys. The evil corporate bad guy from the last film was repackaged and sold to this one's screenwriters as a minor antagonist for Lois and a bit of a nuisance for Clark as well. DC does have a history of evil spin doctors in the news/entertainment industry, but G. Gordon Godfrey he ain't. He's just a tabloid peddler.

However, like Ross Webster, he does come with a mini-entourage in the form of his daughter, Lacy, who reasserts her father's yuppie greed philosophy while wearing the biggest glasses and shiniest jacket the 80's could provide in an office setting.

Like Superman, Valley Girl uses glasses to hide her secret identity.

Lacy's kind of horrible, but Clark catches her eye, so there's hope (?). After the meeting adjourns, she talks with Lois about Clark. Lois tries to ward him off with all the subtext of trying to keep her "Plan B" guy single and would also deeply insulting Lacy in the process, if Lacy had the slightest acquaintance with wit. She declares that Clark is goodhearted, loyal, and a gentleman, and Lacy isn't his type. Lacy's response either shows the screenwriters' absolute lack or or presence of self-awareness, I'm not sure which. "Don't be silly. All men like me, I'm very, very rich." Where else is there to go with a characterization like that but up?

The line between self-involvement and self-awareness
has been trampled over by this film.

It's also worth pointing out that Lacy seems to always be followed by a light romantic theme. Right now, it's flutes, but later on it progresses to saxophones as she pursues Clark more aggressively. Flutes: the sound of romance. Saxophones: the sound of predation.

As all our mains are gathered in Perry's Warfield's office hashing out expenses, Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen comes in and switches on a broadcast from the president. Clark is worried what it might be about, but Warfield says an international crisis would be good for sales. Because Warfield is a asshat and the movie wants you to remember this every time he speaks. The broadcast plays and totally not Reagan declares that due to the failure of the summit (I'm guessing it a peace summit and not a poetry summit), the US will need to take measures to be "second to none in the nuclear arms race."

The school year just won't end and now she's desperate.

From there we cut to a middle American high school. You get the sense that it is late May and this teacher is running out of ideas. After all, they're watching news broadcasts in school. She probably has Baileys in her coffee mug and she's coming up with anything she can think of to keep these kids occupied for 7 hours a day. It's clearly a chemistry class room, but she has an assignment "write 200 words on the Statue of Liberty" written on the board. Ye gods, is she itching for Summer break. Even her idea in the face of nuclear arms manufacture wreaks of end of the school year "brain on autopilot" thinking: they're going to write their congressman. Not that communicating with elected officials isn't a valid thing to do, but it is such a Hail Mary pass as far as classroom activities go. God(s), this is dumb. Oh, but then the one space case in the back of the class chimes in and says the key to international diplomacy is Superman. And now I'm hitting my head on the desk with laughter.

Jeremy: The Bad Idea Bear of this movie.

Okay, here's the thing about Superman that Alan Moore got incredibly spot on with Dr. Manhattan in The Watchmen. When entering the realm of international politics. Superman isn't the key to international peace. He's the deterrent to war. That's why in the comics, Superman functions in a highly apolitical way. He's not there to use his gifts to force politicians to do what is right. He's here to save the day when things get too far out of hand for the common man to save himself... and also getting cats out of trees. One of the key factors of Superman is despite all his strengths, he does not function by a philosophy of might makes right. Instead, much like Captain America, it comes down to being moral, true of heart, and compassionate that usually makes him worth rooting for.

And initially, Superman agrees with his canon modus operandi, which I appreciate after having sat through two different Superman movies where he's dark and brooding, and wildly out of character because Goyer hates superheroes and Snyder is an 11-year-old. At first, he refuses because he cannot make the decisions that will shape humanity as a whole on such a grand scale.

Lex is lucky Superhair didn't break his shears.

Meanwhile, Lenny and Lex are at a museum where a strand of Superman's hair is on display, holding up an incredibly heavy weight just to show how strong he is. Just like at the prison quarry, the Luthors gain access to the hair with minimal effort. Security in the cinematic DCU is the utmost worst. Lex, a wanted criminal who has put the security of the entire world in peril *twice* has been wandering around the entire museum with nary an eyebrow raised. Not only that, but he's been carrying around a pair of large pruning shears. Superman's hair is strong enough to maintain a 1,000lb suspended in air indefinitely as an exhibit, but fell prey to gardening tools.

#TryingTooHard

Back at The Daily Planet, walks into his office to find Lacy laying across his desk, propositioning him... for a "late night" column (I mentioned the saxophones, right?). It's as flimsy excuse as any to ask him out on a date, but she is in it to win it and is not taking no for an answer. Lois walks in with a letter for Superman and seems quite pleased to be cockblocking Lacy. Why would she bring it to Clark if Lois doesn't know Clark is Superman? Silly readers. Do you think the movie thought that hard? You'll learn. Hell, Lois even gracefully sidesteps why the Planet gets Superman's letters in the first place.

Lois to Lacy: "Good God, girl, get a grip."

As I mentioned earlier, Superman refuses the boy's suggestion outright and Clark says just as much to Lois and Lacy. Lacy, however, is the living embodiment of a bad idea bear in this part of the film and sees an angle for a story. In short order Lacy and Papa Warfield have the little boy in front of news cameras and papers are in news stands painting Supes as some jerk who refuses the wishes of America's youth. WON'T SOMEBODY *PLEASE* THINK OF THE CHILDREN!?

J. Jonah Jameson wouldn't print this horseshit.

Perry White is through with Warfield treating his paper like a tabloid and walks off the movie. Don't worry, he'll wander back by the denouement.

Superman travels to the Fortress of Solitude and seeks out the wisdom of his people. They advise such things as giving Earth the old heave-ho and relocating to a more civilized ball of dirt to live on. Even more hilariously is an elder who says that any planet who puts the task of one man to save them will inevitably be betrayed. And he keeps saying betrayed. No, this isn't an echo, nor was there any attempt to make it feel like something resounding in Clark's head. The guy just stands there repeating the word like he's having neural-cognitive issues on the set. Betrayed! Betrayed! Betrayed! Repent, Ebeneezer! Repent! Repent!

He gets paid by the "doomed."

While still mulling this over in his apartment, he is visited by Lois, who asks why he isn't in a tux yet because they're due at the Summit. The same one that failed? How often do you have summits in this city? Clark says he needs some air. Lois walks him out and Clark leads them off a ledge, Lois is falling to her death probably for the third time that month when she is greeted by Superman, still with Clark's glasses, which she quickly tucks into the belt of her gown as they fly off for a cheaply made shot by shot re-enactment of their original flight scene in the first movie. Oh, movie... The one thing you don't want to do in your crappy, crappy film is remind your audience of the better film they could be watching right now.

Remember how the romantic flight in the first film Clark let go of her hand but still braced her by the waist to give her a sense of what it feels like to fly? Well here, he just shoves her, laughing as gravity does what it does. Gods, this would be so less painful if it wasn't trying so transparently to copy one of the best scenes in the entire superhero genre.

The face of a woman whose beloved just tried to kill her.

They return to Clark's balcony and we get the hint that Lois remembers everything from the events of the second film. Of course, appearing to her with your Clark glasses on was probably a dead giveaway. At the very least, it jogged her memory. They talk a little about the important decision he faces, and she says she's behind him no matter what. That's enough Then using his Kryptonian physiology he kisses her so hard he drains enough oxygen from her brain to make her forget the past five minutes of screen time. But that's okay, considering she seems to sorta kinda know about the Clark/Kal-El connection on a subconscious level throughout the film, even if she doesn't openly acknowledge it. Having changed back into a tuxedoed Clark, Lois is a little out of it, but recovers nicely enough. They banter their way out the door and Lois says "you should always go with your gut." Which is pretty good advice.

Actually, it's interesting to note how similarly and how differently she advises both Superman and Clark. Superman gets words of unconditional support, regardless of his decision, Clark gets an off the cuff suggestion to trust himself. They're both told very differently, but impart the same message. Clark/Kal-El should always trust in himself to do what is right. Too bad, Clark confuses his gut instinct with pressures from the media in this film...

Next stop: United Nations Building. Lacy and Lois have carpooled for Superman's big day because Daddy Warfield is a cheapskate. They park illegally right in front of the UN building and Lacy is concerned that the ticket is going to be through the roof. Lois tells her to relax, that it's only money. Okay, I get that at this point in the film we're not supposed to be too sympathetic toward Lacy just yet, and the film is firmly against corporate greed (or miserliness, in this instance), but the lady has a point, especially with her unscrupulous father cooking the books. Also, for a film that promotes a pretty black and white morality, having our female leads knowingly commit a parking infraction seems off.

The Last Son of Smallville arrives and the entire UN assembly are drinking the Kool-Aid. Clearly, they all know what he's there to discuss. That alone confuses me. This suggests that all the countries of the world are game for this. Really, movie? The entire UN is okay with their respective nations' defense systems being dismantled forcibly by an alien being without any national allegiance, and who is powerful enough to conquer the world single-handedly. Not one person is wary about this? The chairperson declares that in order to have the floor and every hand in the room reaches for the sky. Seriously, movie? I know this is speculative fiction, but my disbelief has been suspended so far is cracked under the strain.

Also, another sign of 1. how the 80s were really a different time and 2. this movie had zero budget is the fact that about half UN members are dressed in traditional garments from their respective nations. Just about all those who are happen to be non-white. There is certainly a range from subdued to utterly silly, but I drew the line at what looks like a stereotyped "Arab Costume" you'd find at a Halloween Adventure. Yes, some delegates may wear traditional adornments along with their professional attire such as headwear, but this is the UN, not "It's A Small World After All."

Up in the mezzanine, Lois, Lacy, the kid who wrote the letter, and Superman's Pal Jimmy Olson are seated, waiting with fervent anticipation.. well, Lacy seems underwhelmed, though she plays along. She's kind of like an inversion of 1st movie Lois in that she is wild about Clark but only begrudgingly accepts Superman. Meanwhile, that kid is sitting in Lois' lap. Aside from the fact that Lois as I like to envision her is crap with kids, why wasn't this kid provided seating? He's probably a VIP with the press? More importantly, where is this kid's parents? Stranger danger! Stranger danger!

Seriously, kid, where are your parents?!

So, Superman's speech basically gets the plot rolling... a full 30 minutes into a 90-odd minute film. He effectively declares himself a citizen of the Earth by promising to relieve the world's nations of their nuclear armaments. This is met with a standing ovation. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to live in a world where we don't have to worry that Trump might possibly have access to the nuclear codes next November, but this doesn't even resembling a plausible reality.

What ensues is a sequence in which the world's nuclear powered nations shooting their atomic payload into space, where Superman catches them all and gathers them in a gigantic net that I have to assume he cobbled together out of steel.  He spins around (I wonder how he finds a point on which to pivot in zero gravity) and shotputs all the missiles into the sun. Sure, I'll buy it. This is the comic book logic I paid good money for.

I'm imagining a very different movie where Superman used
his new A-Bomb collection to hold the world hostage.
Mwahahahaha!

Elsewhere, Lex has arranged a meeting with three notorious arms dealers in the international community. He greets them in his quite opulent villain's lair (Lex really failed the laying low section of villainy) with two girls with rhyming names on each arm and proceeds to monologue his way through a quick summary of each one, but honestly it isn't necessary. They are a collective unit of unimportant underlings in the grand scheme. Speaking of underling, Lenny is in the background, where he has a set of drums and several arcade cabinets. Because, kids. Amirite?

Being that he's talking to arms dealers, i.e. businessmen, you wouldn't think Lex's hyperfocused "let's destroy Superman" sales pitch would work. However, Superman did put them out of the business. Well, according to the logic of this film he did. I suspect in the real world, they would be flush with cash from all the governments trying to restock their armories on the sly after the obvious PR stunt. Somehow, this involves the sun, which he refers to as a huge nuclear bomb and a bowl of protoplasmic goop that he concocted from Superman's genetics.

Um... how? How did he afford the lab equipment? How did he afford this lavish lair? Shouldn't his assets have been frozen when he was arrested? Either time? Or at the very least when he escaped? Either time? The cinematic DCU was once a very stupid place. Now it's just a very emo one and I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

Anyway, his proposition is that if they put Luthor's Easy Bake Kryptonian batter on a missile for a trip to the sun, it will create a nuclear powered man who will both be a match for Superman but also will frighten the world's governments into buying nukes like hotcakes. And all Lex wants in return is a small commission. Right...

Laundry Day... See you there...
Underclothes... Tumbling....

In their mad scientist lab coats, Lex and Lenny prep the package for their abomination, consisting of the protoplasm, some dirt (reasons unknown), and some black and gold fabric. Ye gods, their creature is going to be a Steelers fan...

Their creature could have been rocking a banana hammock.

Lenny is excited because he and Lex are going to be parents. I wish there had been a tie-in book for young readers: "Nuclear Man Has Two Daddies."

Lex along with one his cronies make in onto an army base and ensure that their little science project is on board for the day's nuclear purge. Has this become a daily occurrence? It must be something that keeps happening in drips and drabs at this point because Superman shows up to throw this missile into the sun all by its lonesome. It hurtles into the sun and an embryo flies out of it, then soon evolves into the real menace of our film: Nuclear Man.

Glam Rock: Not quite the Misfits, but whatevs. 

AND. HE. IS. FABULOUS!! I mean, look at this guy. You have that perfect male farrah hair that was so big in 80s teen movies... usually in the preppy antagonists... those stylish leather cuffs. Those perfectly manicured nails... The cape is so much more impressive than Superman's, the suit looks more latex and shinier than Superman's. This guy looks like he would be the prettiest leatherboy at Folsom Street Fair. Fun Fact: the actor was a former Chippendales Dancer.

He crackles with nuclear power as he shoots like a rocket to Earth. How does he know that's where he's supposed to go? He isn't even five minutes old yet. He should be working on his object permanence first.

Back on Earth, Lacy and Clark are at the gym. And even by 80s standards, Clark is in the dorkiest looking sweat suit available... with Adidas product placement.  Insult to injury, his pants are tucked into his tube socks. He also has his towel tucked into his collar, which I couldn't understand why other than to make him look goofier. The better to hide his superbod was my logic. However, my boyfriend, being older and wiser and all of 12 when the 80s ended, assures me that it was totally a real thing people did in the 80s, since not all gyms had air conditioning.

There is a third wheel here, but I have no idea who it is.

The pair of them soon catch the eye of one of the trainers. He has on a skintight running singlet, a lifting belt, and the tiniest pair of men's shorts you ever did see unless you've been to a Pride March... with Adidas product placement. Lacy is less than pleased to see him in a way that screams, "ex boyfriend." Brad (one of the three tried and true jerk names in 80s movies) leads Clark over to another part of the gym, calling him Clarky. Again, with the ambient gayness. Is Brad flirting with him or teasing him?

He then pretty transparently tosses a weight that the ostensibly weak Clark couldn't handle and Clark falls on his ass. Brad says, "No pain, no gain," as he walks away. As someone who has had experience with trainers bothering him when he's trying to work out, let me just point out how unrealistic it is for a trainer to walk off after you mess up. That's not how you get hired on by repeat clients.

That's not how you get repeat clients (and/or fuck buddies), Brad.

Brad's pretty transparently a jerk, but what he does accomplishes nothing. It's bullying in its most superfluous form. Although, it teaches Lacy that she needs to have more Clarks and fewer Brads in her life. I guess that was worth Clark's humiliation? Once again, saxophones play while she has her epiphany at Clark's expense. Lacy suggests that the two of them have a double date with Lois and Superman. Even though Lois technically has an interview and not a date. Also, it's odd that she doesn't think to ask Lois first.

Brad's body language: "Hey Clarky, I want your D---!"

Lacy heads to exit as she tells Clark to come early for the romantic view while there is an ADR'ed line from Brad asking Clark to hand him the weights. After he just humiliated Clark for no good reason. Man, Brad is bad at this human interaction thing. Lacy leaves and we cut back to Clark, with Brad semi reclined on a bench press, looking like he's about to proposition Clark for some sticky entanglements. Clark thoughtlessly lifts up the heaviest weight on the floor and tosses it at Brad, knocking him off the bench onto the floor flat on your back. Was Clark being petty or careless? You be the judge.

WTFuck?!?!

Back in LuthorLand, Lex is dancing with a Madame Pompadour cosplayer when his eldritch abomination comes home to roost at the . Lex marvels at his creation, impressed even when it speaks with his own voice (did I miss a line? was part of Lex's genetics used, too?). He is less than impressed when Nuclear Man expresses his own agency (subtext: Lex is a horrible father) and Lenny chimes in calling him, "just an experiment, freak-o." Nuclear Man uses powers that can't be explained either with solar energy, nuclear power, or Kryptonian genetics to levitate Lenny around until he apologizes. Lex's new baby is kind of an asshole. Lex manages to accidentally get things back on track by saying, "I made you. I can destroy you." Nuclear's takeaway: "Destroy Superman now!" Like father, like son, I guess...

Viggo The Carpathian!

Both Nuclear Man and and Lex are happy to find common ground and walk away from the window and into the shade... and suddenly he powers down, curling into a ball like an armadillo. Looks like Lex's ultimate weapon against Superman might have a wee bit of a design flaw. No, seriously, the guy doesn't just lose his power in the shade, he shuts down. It makes sense if you think about how crappy the solar powered calculators we used in elementary school were.

The double date scene is every tired "two dates scheduled for the same night" scenario you've ever seen. Most of the stuff he does to facilitate this are innocuous as things go, but I got really ticked off when he uses his heat vision to burn Lois' dinner just to create a distraction. She worked long and hard on that meal, you ingrate! Not cool, Superman. The less said of this the better. NEXT!

Lex  Cup O Noodles

Just as I my being tired of the double date scene was lumbering into its umpteenth hour, Lex employs the same dogwhistle "nobody can hear me but you" trick he used in the first film, singing "Hello Dolly, because why not, and projecting himself onto the big digital display. I suspect he got a good rate on the screen time, considering this was before Guiliani cleaned up New York Metropolis.

Of course Superman goes. Dealing with a supervillain is much more preferable that being wedged into a screwball comedy trope. Introductions to the twisted fruit of Lex's genetic tampering goes about as well as you would expect. Apparently, even with the influence of solar and nuclear energies in Nuclear Man's creation, Supes can still recognize his own DNA when he looks hard at his genetic code.

Superman: saving white people around the world. 

We have a few more minutes of haughty villain/moral superiority hero dialogue before Lex finally unleashed Nuclear Man on Superman. Ye gods, as a writer I have never been happier for characters to stop talking. Nuke rams at Superman, knocking them both off the balcony. They tussle in mid-air in a manner I swear looks nothing like two guys having wrestling in bed green screened against a cityscape  until they both remember they can fly. They start pinballing around the globe. First stop China where Nukey uses his powers to smash sections of the Great Wall. Our hero saves white people from falling to their deaths. Because who else are you going to save in China? Then uses his hitherto unmentioned wall building vision to rewind the footage of the destruction footage. Just... just go with it. We only have 1/3 of the movie left.

Oh no! He turned Superman into a matte painting!

They fly off into space for some more mid-air grappling, Nuclear Man somehow blows on Superman and that causes him to get encases in a giant crystal. Unencumbered, Nuke makes his way over to Italy and drills himself down into Mount Vesuvius, causing it to erupt. Because that's how volcanoes work now. For some reason, it experiences a Hawaiian eruption instead of a Plinian eruption, which just completely took me out of the film.

Nope! 

Double Nope!

Superman of course frees himself, stops the disaster from occurring by slicing the top off another mountain and using it to stopper Vesuvius (because Superman has never used a pressure cooker before), and rescues most stereotypical Italian paesani this side of the Godfather Part II and resumes pursuing his quarry.

We thought this was the casting call for the Godfather Pt III.

Back in space, because these two love fighting on wires on a green screen, Nuclear Man displays some Wolverine action as his nails pop further out of their nail beds. Superman manages to repel him, so Nuke Man flies back to Metropolis, lifts the Statue of Liberty off her pedestal flies further inland with it and throws it at the people of Manhattan Metropolis. Superman manages to swoop in and catch it in time, but that proves to be his weakness. Even meat-headed villains like this guy know that the people are a hero's weakness... unless your name is Zach Snyer, in which case fuck the civilians.

Look out Superman! There's a gogo boy with
press-on nails on your tail! 

As Superman is flying Lady Liberty back to her proper place, he is defenseless as Nuclear Man scratches him across the neck, like a little kid does fighting in the schoolyard. The scars glow red in the most PG way possible as Superman falters, barely managing to get the statue back into position before collapsing to the ground. Nuclear Man punts him like a football, sending him flying into the air and knocking off his cape, which falls on the torch of the Statue as the scene changes.

Back at The Daily Planet, Mr. Warfield surprises Lacy by showing her to her new office, where she will hold the position of publisher. Yeah, it seems Perry White got canned off-screen. Not only does this surprise her, but finding Superman's cape on her brand new desk is quite a shocker as well. Before she has time to react, Lois runs in furious over a headline declaring Superman dead. The careful viewer will also note that the banner says "The Warfield Journal." She declares that she's quitting, and upon seeing Lacy holding Superman's cape, she snatches it away, declaring that she doesn't have the right to it.

Lacy, the divorce clearly says that I get our son on Superman days!"

Warfield tells Lacy to fire Clark too, since he hasn't been showing up to work and refers to the staff as "the help." Lacy tells her father off, or tells him to stuff it. I think as a first act of defiance, that's the equivalent of telling someone off, then she heads over to Lois' desk where she is packing and apologizes for her father's actions and commiserate over both their men being absentee.

This is how you journalist.

Back at Clark's apartment, and yeesh, I didn't notice what a dump it is. Clark looks sickly and won't answer the door. Lois, being Lois, knows how to force the lock. Lois gives him a motivational speech of things she wishes she could tell Superman that furthers my suspicion that she knows his dual identity and she's just keeping up the ruse for his sake. And the coup de grace? She leaves Superman's cape with him, in case he sees him. Yeah. She knows. Incontrovertible proof.

"Here, just in case you run into Superman... not that you've ever
been in the same room with him at the same time or anything..."

Flush with cash, Lex fires his business partners, using Nuclear Man as the necessary incentive for them to get the hell out of dodge.

In my boyfriend's defense, it does look awfully phallic.

Back at Clark's humble abode, he's gone from looking fluish to looking aged and emaciated, ravaged from the effects of Nuclear Man's nuclear love tap. It actually eerily reminds me of how Christopher Reeve looked in his final years. Hey, remember that talking green crystal he found in the first act? The one that told him that it's a one time only do-over pass? Yeah. That's happening. My boyfriend strongly argued that it was a suppository. He's classy like that.

Back in Luthor Land, Nuclear Man sees a news paper with new publisher Lacy Warfield as the paper's headline. Because Lacy may be growing as a person, but she's still just an eensy teensy bit completely self-absorbed. Obviously, Nuke adheres to supervillain protocol and is instantly involved with the nearest plot relevant female. It's honestly pretty weak. Firstly, the fact that this would not be a front page full spread story, especially not at this stage of Lacy's arc where she's had some character growth. Secondly, the fact that Nuclear Man sees her picture once and is suddenly obsessed with one particular woman seems like the writers weren't even trying all that hard to justify keeping Lacy in the plot.

So powerful, he can use community theater Peter Pan effects.

Somehow the newly restored Superman knew who Nuclear Man was after and is standing guard at Lacy's hotel when Nuclear Man arrives, who also mysteriously knows where she lives despite being a monosyllabic illiterate. Fighting ensues. Collateral damages happens. Cars are set on fire and/or blown up. Civilians are put at risk, left suspended in mid-air with visible wires. Superman puts the civilians' lives first... because even schlock like this has more moral wherewithal behind it than Man of Steel, and lures Nuclear Man inside, promising to take him to her.

"Me no like elevators! Me like ceiling tiles!

Superman heads towards the elevator, but Nuclear Man is having none of that and just flies through the ceiling closest to the windows. Up in the penthouse suite, Superman does manage to trick him into the elevator this time. Sealed in, Nuclear Man powers down and Superman pulls the elevator car completely out of the high rise. I sure hope after saving the good people of Metropolis from Nuclear Man's assault, ripping an elevator out of the building and causing rubble to crash down from twenty stories up manages to keep them safe. So much for civilian lives...

"Nuclear Man SMASH puny blue man!"

What to do with his cargo? Next stop: the moon. Man, space really is our own private junk yard, sometimes. No wonder real world extra terrestrials refuse to talk to us. Superman drops off the car, but just then, the sun rises on the moon and light seeps through the elevator car, re-energizing our villain. Ye gods, movie. End, already! They fight again and for the time being Nuclear Man is victorious, hammering Superman into the moon's surface like a railroad spike. It's something straight out of a Loony Toons short. He makes a point of knocking over the Apollo 11 flag because it will mean something to an American audience, even though I quite suspect that the concept of national pride is beyond him.  Then he flies off for whatever it was he wanted? Oh, right. Lacy.

Lacy Meanwhile is trying to convince her father to turn to the ways of responsible journalism. Just then, Nuclear Man bursts through the ceiling and kidnaps her. It's very Fay Wray and King Kong.

Because symbolism!

Superman, in the meanwhile has freed himself from his moonrocky prison, resets the moonlanding flag and goes off to save the day. He shoves the moon into the path of the sun, powering down Nuclear Man, allowing him an opportunity to rescue Lacy, who manages not to implode when Nuclear Man flies out into the cold of space with her. Then he takes his helpless foe, fly him down to a nuclear energy plant, drop him into a silo and he falls seamlessly into an open hatch on a reactor, hyper-charging power for the entire city. Mission Accomplished.

Remember to dispose of your nuclear waste of a character
responsibly.

Back at The Daily Planet, Perry White is back and the company's original masthead is being restored.  I know, this was the subplot we were all sitting on the edge of our seats over, right? Perry has bought all the miscellaneous shares of the company and forced out Warfield. Thus ends the subplot that nobody wanted, needed, or cared about. No mention is made of Lacy. She fell off the movie. Next thing's next, our intrepid reporters are present outside the Planet for a press conference with Superman, who apologizes for facilitating this stupid plot and manages to telegraph the obvious theme in case anyone's brains shut down as a method of safeguarding themselves for most of the film.

For some reason, despite his press conference effectively being this film's thesis statement and would have actually been a nice place to end the feature, the film decides to follow up on Lex and Lenny. Lenny bafflingly gets dropped off at a Boys Town orphanage, where he is taken in sight unseen by priest who is either an anachronistic and formally dressed Catholic or possibly Byzantine/Eastern Orthodox (which I also doubt due to the severe lack of a kickass beard), based on the attire. Superman neither checks to see if Lenny has parents nor drops him off at a juvenile detention facility, which probably been choice number one. Of course, considering the actor was upwards of 21 at the time of filming, maybe just plain old jail with his Uncle Lex should have also been up for consideration.

"Fresh meat? We'll take him."

Speaking of which, when Lex is dropped off at prison (an increasingly repetitive and anticlimactic way of wrapping up a Lex story in these films), his fellow inmates are whistling Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. If you wrack your brains for important things from the first ten minutes of the film, which is three agonizing eternities ago at this point, you might remember that this was set up as a call back. But honestly, does anyone care at this point?

Surprisingly a good shot. I'd make it my wallpaper for a week.

Superman flies over the Earth as the Sun crests past the planet as the credits roll. The End.

I'm not going to lie. This was rough. For the purposes of the blog, I had to sit through this film a solid 4 times and it was a slog every time. I almost want to judge my parents for letting me watch this at a young age because it should have come with a surgeon general's warning. Much like cigarettes, I'm fairly certain this movie took 10 years off my life. I mainly focus on cohesiveness of story and characterization. Had I focused on special effects, this could have gone on a lot longer. Possibly indefinitely. This movie had no budget and it showed.

The sad thing was that this was a labor of love that was doomed before production even started. Christopher Reeve was deeply invested in restoring Superman to the former glory of the Donner era and had a strong hand in the development of the story. You'll notice that you have a less than subtle hand weaving in the themes that dominate the narrative, which were Reeve's contribution, such as Cold War anxiety, nuclear arms race fear, and the evils of the corporate media. Yes, it was a bit of a passion project that might have skewed a bit too leftist for a character who is supposed to be just ever so slightly left of center, but I'll give it props for its passion.

The script on its own does have its problems. Even when Lacy works within the film (which I'll generously say is about 40-60% of her screen time, she feels incredibly extraneous to the plot. I honestly think she would have worked better as a character in a more serialized format. She does grow and change through her relations with Clark and Lois, but she's at best tangential to the Superman narrative. Nuclear Man could have kidnapped a mannequin for all it mattered. More to the point, she comes at the expense of screen time with Lois. There's still a spark of chemistry between Lois and Superman, and Lois and Clark too, even if Lois swears to the contrary. But with Lacy getting the rounded out emotional arc, Lois basically has two things to do in this film: firstly, engage in corporate office politics that the viewer doesn't care about, and secondly to sit in state as the high priestess of the church of Superman. She is all about being his cheerleader in this movie and there are at least 3 instances where her devotion takes on beatific undertones. Meanwhile, the Luthors are silly but don't really do much to affect the narrative after their creation overtakes their role as antagonists. And sadly, he has all the personality and charm of a cylinder block.

However, the script issues honestly would have been admissible (the Donnerverse Superman movies are all pretty corny by today's standards), if not for the production troubles. Like I said this was doomed before the word "go" because the producers of the first three films, the Salkinds, sold the rights to Superman to Golan-Globus' Cannon Group, Inc. Don't know who they are? I think you'd recognize them on-site. They were infamous producers of schlock renowned for producing low-to-medium-budget films. Perhaps you've seen one of their incredibly inexpensive live-action adaptations of various Grimm's Fairy Tales. The ones that managed to get 1 good actor (either through calling in favors or blackmail) to round out a cast full of crap. That was Cannon. Perhaps you are familiar with camp classics such as Masters of the Universe or The Apple. Also these guys. The one bonafide success in their filmography as far as I'm aware is Highlander.
But that was an achievement in which the production's reach didn't exceed its grasp and had a budget relative to the scope of the production.

In contrast, every department of production was severely slashed from what it once had in the prior installments, but what was expected to meet the same quality. Based on interviews, Reeve went on record as saying that the film was treated no differently than the nearly 30 other productions going on at that time. Thirty productions at various stages of production. Concurrently. It certain explains why the film didn't give it the attention it required despite the successful franchise being a major "get." It's also surprising because the acquisition of Superman was supposedly meant to herald a new era of major budget productions for the film studio, but unfortunately the studio was unable to put their money where their mouth is. If you're interested, I suggest checking out Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films, which you can currently find streaming on Netflix.

Another interesting bit of apocrypha that my boyfriend insists that I share with you all is an absolute gem that hit the cutting room floor. Aside from Lacy and Letter Writing Boy actually having character arc conclusions in the cut scenes, there is also possibly my favorite thing ever: the first Nuclear Man. Yeah, it looks like  Played by Clive Mantle, he was supposed to resemble Bizarro, but he comes across as Ozzy Osbourne in heavy goth makeup. And everything about these scenes are pure comic gold. The music in the scenes leaves no doubt that you are watching a comedic routine and I find it purely, delightfully batshit fun. I don't think it would have necessarily improved the film, but it could have been kept in the film instead of such useless padding at the double date, the Smallville scene, etc.

I feel like the next time I revisit the world of moving pictures, I will still be working my way through a Superman backlog. But what to do? There is still Superman Returns, and the Snyder abominations if I want to stick to the theme of bad Superman films. Or I could do something different. Something that could be more easily digestible in 42 minute increments. Possibly with either Allison Mack or a Desperate Housewife... Hm...

Next week, however, I know this will come as a bit of a shock, but I'll be recapping yet another issue of Crisis on Infinite Earths... Ye gods, who thought this story needed 12 issues?!