425. Martha Kent’s Baby Boy

We are all Martha. As Martha, we can all love one another.

I felt like I needed to draw the actual Superman, and not the murderous, apathetic sad-sack I drew last week. I have not seen BvS:DoJ. I will not. But, I’ve got the gist. Here’s the thing: If I hated a movie, why in the world would I ever see the sequel? Especially if it’s done by the same production team? I hated Man of Steel. It made me physically ill. Everything I’ve heard from trusted sources tells me that BvS just doubles down on all the stuff I hated.

You don’t have to see every movie. You don’t have to read every comic. You don’t have to watch ever episode or every tv show. You have a choice.

That said, BvS:DoJ is the Donald Trump of superhero movies.

This movie (and Man of Steel, and the Nolan Batrilogy, and DC Comics’ pre-and-post New 52 slate [and probably beyond?]) is the reaction of petulant 12 year old boys who are too embarrassed to admit they read comics. So everything has to be cranked up and hyper, violent, gritty, “real”. Their hobby and enjoyment needs to be justified and validated so as to not be seen as childish and dumb. They’re trying really hard to prove to you that they’ve earned those big boy pants they’re wearing. Those little scraps of hair on their lips… soon they’ll be shaving. And in the process – dramatically, fundamentally – not understanding their characters or their appeal.

I’m still here.
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