Villain Tune-Up: Maxima

'That the female of Her species is more deadly than the male!' -Rudyard Kipling.

Strange the things you never notice. In over thirty years of reading superhero comics I've never even considered it before, and for someone with as deep and abiding an obsession with the minutia of popular culture for something to have been staring me in the face for so long and to completely miss as I have. . .well, it's a bit humbling to say the least.

When I initially started the concept of the Hero/Villain Tune-Up, it seemed little more than a fun little exercise in taking a problematic character (or even a character I felt hadn't been utilized to their fullest potential) and exploring those aspects of said character that could make them absolutely badass. Yet it was only until one lazy afternoon about two weeks ago that—woolgathering ideas for a new blog piece at my typical glacial pace—it hit me between the eyes like a thunderbolt.

I'd been flipping through one of my Essential Handbooks of the Marvel Universe, when I began to notice something odd. I switched over to my copies of the DC and Marvel Encyclopedias, and as the pages flipped by I began to notice it more and more. A discrepancy. A void I'd never even seen until it was staring me in the face, and it all began out of a simple enough thought. Namely: 'Hey, I should do a Villain Tune-Up for a female Master Villain, someone on the level of like a Doctor Doom or Darkseid.'

And that's when I noticed it. Or rather, noticed the lack of it.

Female super-villains don't seem to have a character like that among their ranks, someone that makes the heroic community pause collectively and go 'Holy sh!t, it's her.' You've got some examples that come fairly close; Circe, Nebula, the Dark Phoenix to name a few, but there doesn't seem to be a level of feminine villainy that reaches the upper levels, a villain that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the first tier of villainy and make being bad look good. About as close as I could get in my own researches was the subject of this Villain Tune-Up, and while she does come close there are a few elements that keep her from reaching the top. Together we'll explore them, shake out the bugs and illustrate just how with a few tweaks, this character could go from the minors to the majors.

Debuting in Action Comics #645 in September of 1989, Maxima was created by the team of writer Roger Stern and artist George Perez. Scion of the warrior rulers of the far-flung planet of Almerac, Maxima was the eldest child of the royal line. Born with super-strength, the power of flight, telepathy and telekinesis, she was a formidable enough power in her own right. Desiring a consort with which to sire an heir, she journeys to Earth with the intention of making Superman her consort. This isn't as implausible as it sounds, as it turns out their is a genetic compatibility between Almeracians and Kryptonians, which means that Maxima could potentially provide Kal-El with something no human could: children. Of course, the idea of being the boy-toy of an intergalactic warmongering tyrant doesn't sit well with our intrepid hero (no matter how appealing the red-headed, voluptuous package), and he promptly sends her packing with a stern talking to, stating flatly that he had no desire to father a line of despots. The character would return, eventually becoming an ally and a member of the Justice League before returning to her despotic ways. She died a hero however, saving the universe from the menace of Brainiac. She's appeared in an episode of Superman: The Animated Series, but by and large the character was confined to the comics, and was quietly swept away with other '90s-era detritus. Which is a pity, because with a few tweaks here and there, this is a character that could be easily jump from periodic menace to serious threat.

There are those who argue that Superman is a headache to write for because his powers make him far too capable for villains to provide a credible threat. They see him as essentially the protagonistic (if that isn't a word I'm making it one) equivalent of a Sherman tank, rolling over anything that a writer can put in his path. These people, for all their talent, are much like the character of Belloq in Raiders of the Lost Ark. They're digging in the wrong place. The key to a good Superman villain lies not in the Super, but in the man. The best characters (your Luthors, your Brainiacs, even your Zods) challenge Superman on not a physical level, but an intellectual/moral one. Thus it would be with the revised Maxima.

Starting from the top, let's take the whole 'Wants Superman To Be Her Consort' thing and promptly kick it to the curb. For all the badassness of the character, that notion is one that needs to be removed, or at least heavily underplayed. Maxima is a warrior-queen, the monarch of an entire planet of conquerors whose leaders have done a fine job uniting their people and focusing them into a race to be reckoned with. In a universe of alien threats, from the enigmatic dominators to the vicious Khund, from the cool intellects of Rann to the wingmen-elite of Thanagar, the Almerac Empire should be teased at, hints of a whispered fear. Even Brainiac treats them with a reverence, citing that he attempted to collect a sample of their civilization and that it 'did not meet with expected results'. Eventually a probe reaches Earth, a group of highly trained, possibly empowered Almeracian warriors attempt to establish a beachhead on Earth, only to be repulsed by a powerful figure in red and blue, a figure that identifies as a survivor of Krypton. The Almeracians escape, reporting back to the Throneworld. A decadent world, Almerac cares little for anything save the acquisition of territory. . .and of challenge. And what better challenge than a world so rich in metahuman defenders, especially this 'Superman'. The defeat and enslavement of this world that so many have tried and failed to conquer would be glory enough, but to have the last survivor of the Kryptonian Empire licking the boot of Almerac's queen? No, the prize is too enticing by far. Add a little bit about Almerac being a world that in the past threw off the shackles of Kryptonian oppression only to become the very thing they once fought against and you have yourselves the making of a cosmic epic that would make for a long-term threat that would boil over into a full-scale invasion that would set the pages of the Superman titles ablaze with. . .dare I say it. . .action.

Think about it; a woman with all the basic powers of Superman and Wonder Woman (flight, super-strength, invulnerability), plus she can read your mind, control you like a puppet, shoot bolts from her eyes that stagger the Man of Steel, create force fields a la the Invisible Woman, and can channel her psychic might into her physical attacks to make her stronger still. Plus, she's the ruler of an entire planet dedicated to the cause of war and the expansion of their empire. Where Superman is the open hand of Hope, she is the closed fist of Control. Where Kal-El believes in providing an example for others to follow, Maxima believes in crushing any and all opposition to her will in the most definitive and final manner possible. She is the dark reflection of Superman, and while there may be some potential for redemption, it's buried under centuries of dogma, an ethic that allowed her people to overthrow their masters and create their own superhumans, forging them into a force to be reckoned with. Can Superman make her see reason? Or will Krypton's dark past destroy her last hope for the future?

The Victimized Badass: Some Thoughts on Zack Snyder's Sucker Punch.

I've seen the latest opus of director Zack Snyder and let me say this up front: the man knows his cinema. I'll happily give credit where it's due, and Snyder is easily one of the most seamlessly adept genre filmmakers I've ever seen. Since Dawn of the Dead back in 2004 the man has shown a unique talent for conveying action and emotion through his visuals, harnessing the unique talents of the production team under his command to bring amazing things to light. Hell, he made the cinematic adaptation of Watchmen, a comic book I'd believed to be completely unfilmmable, transforming the epic into a new entity while simulataneously paying homage to it's prose and picture counterpart. The same can also be said for 300, his rich and glorious adaptation of Frank Miller's sword and sandals epic.


Simply put, the man can make movies, and when I heard he'd be creating his own unique story in the form of Sucker Punch, and seeing the bits and pieces doled out in teaser trailers and one-sheets, I was on board. I eagerly sat in my seat at an advanced screening, keen to see what Snyder could do with his psyche completely unbound, free to create without having anything to adapt. I saw the film, sat with it, then saw it a second time today. I've had some time to turn the film over and over in my head and I have to say that while it is an impressive spectacle, the film has also done something it clearly didn't intend: it ticked me off. Sucker Punch is the most amazing mysoginist film featuring strong women I've ever seen.


The plot (what there is of one) centers around Baby Doll (played by Emily Browning), a teenaged girl whose mother dies and finds herself and her sister the sole heirs to her mother's estate. This doesn't sit well with their stepfather, who in a drunken tirade kills the younger sister and pins the rap on Baby (we never get any actual names for our protagonists, merely labels). The sequence is really one of the movie's high points; heavy on mood, kind of gothic and score by an amazing cover of 'Sweet Dreams' by the Eurythmics. It ends with Baby being sent to the Lennox Home For the Mentally Insane(clever little shout-out there), and with the aid of a crooked orderly named Blue Jones (Oscar Isaac) the young girl is slated for a lobotomy. The specialist will arrive in five days. The film then follows Baby as she struggles to escape, coping with the situation by envisioning the asylum as a Prohibition-era nightclub, the well meaning Dr. Vera Gorski (Carla Gugino) teaching her to dance (i.e. work through her feelings) to survive, and the remainder of the protagonists: Sweet Pea (Abbie Cornish), her sister Rocket (Jena Malone), Amber (Jamie Chung), and Blondie (Vanessa Hudgens) assembling around Baby in a mutual bid for freedom, using the newcomers amazing dance abilities to distract their captors as they assemble the items they'll need to escape.

This leads into a fantasy within the fantasy, where as Baby Doll begins her dance numbers we flash into various and sundry fantasy scenarios; from an epic battle in a Shogunate-era castle against oni demons armed with rail guns to pseudo-WWI combat against steampunk reanimated German soldiers to a raid on a dragon's lair to an attack on a robot-filled bullet train. These sequences are the centerpiece of the film and the craft and care that went into them shines through, our five heroines looking absolutely effin' badass as they plough through their enemies, meeting their objectives, and looking damned cool in the process. And if this had been the premise of the movie, that rather than dreams this was an elite female unit of dimension-jumping kickers of ass and takers of names struggling to save worlds throughout the multiverse to prevent dimensional collapse, I would have pumped my fist and said this was the most amazing thing since the application of peanut butter to bread. But it's not and I can't.

I'm doing my level best not to get into spoiler territory here, because I do believe the movie is fundamentally worth watching. But the thing that makes my molars grind is that the badass, empowered women we see on the one sheets and in the trailers. . .they're not real. Or rather they're part of Baby Doll's dream-within-a-dream. Or the dream selves of the characters, who ultimately (apart from the figure of Baby herself) are shown to be anything but self-reliant or badass or strong. There is a moment when you watch these characters go completely to pieces. Is it understandable, given the circumstances? To an extent, yes. There's been some trauma, the pressure is on, etc. But isn't the journey of the film supposed to be the discovery by the girls of their own inner strength and resources? That they are far more powerful than they believed possible? If yes, then why does the film make victims of the girls, having them break down at one minor setback (to the point where a character makes a decision that is just. . .baffling), and then become hapless at the drop of a dime? Much like Chewbacca being a wookie from the planet Endor, this does not make sense.

Why is it that a film that's selling point is badass, confident looking women kicking the absolute crap out of bad guys really about being a helpless victim with some mealy-mouthed message about finding some inner strength within to deal with the pain without. . .and then having that pain without completely bulldoze you into the dirt? Yes, those who have seen the film will argue it ends on a hopeful note. Hopeful? Perhaps. Satisfactory to this member of the audience? Hell no. In my version the girls get away, after some very satsifying Death Proof-style vengeance on Blue's sleazy ass, laughing all the while as the asylum burns to the ground. That is the note the film should've ended on.

I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking this thing, but the film's notion of the victimized badass really made my hackles rise. Why can't a female hero simply be a confident, strong, fully realized character rather than either a victim, a headcase, or some combination of the two? Is there a spectrum that I'm not aware of?


Is Sucker Punch worth seeing? Again, yeah, I'd say so. If nothing else it got me thinking, and in an age of sequels/remake repeat as needed that's something we really, truly need in our escapist fare. Ultimately it is an impressive spectacle, with eye-candy galore and one of the most kickin' soundtracks I've heard in ages, but I can't help wishing for a little more steak to go with the sizzle.

Stac

Villain Tune-Up: The Parasite.

'All sins tend to be addictive, and the terminal point of addiction is damnation.' W.H. Auden

For the model upon which the entire genre is based, Superman doesn't have a lot of what you'd call 'name' villains. Sure there's Lex Luthor and Brainiac, but after that it doesn't take long before you're straining for more names. It could be argued that Darkseid has become an arch-villain of the man of steel (though mainly as an import from Jack Kirby's Fourth World saga), and there are more contemporary villains such as Metallo, Rampage, and Silver Banshee (although quiz most non-comics readers about the last three and you might get some recognition from Metallo via Smallville). Even Doomsday, the brutal force of nature that did what no other villain could previously, namely kill Superman, is hardly widely known. About the only character that might gain mass recognition is the infamous General Zod, and even then he wasn't tailored to be a regular foe of the man of steel, just an occasional menace that cropped up every now and again from the Phantom Zone.

At first glance it might seem that the Rudy Jones, aka the Parasite, is another one of these forgettable types. Good for a single-issue formulaic smackdown, then carted off to jail by the end of the story, curses foiled again, etc, etc. That's the impression, and I can certainly see how easily the character could be placed into that archetype. But in point of fact, the Parasite is one of the most potentially terrifying foes Superman could ever face. Let's break down why together.

First, a bit of backstory. Rudy Jones was one of life's losers, a guy always out to make a quick buck while secretly railing at a world that couldn't appreciate him and where people less deserving than him (namely everyone) got all the breaks cut for them. Working as a janitor at S.T.A.R. Labs (Scientific & Technological Advanced Research. I pulled that from memory people. MY NERD POWERS ARE SUPERIOR! Ahem), Rudy was convinced that there had to be something in those canisters marked 'hazardous waste' had to be worth selling. With that airtight bit of logic in his feeble mind, Rudy opened the container and exposed himself to a massive dose of strange radiation. This being the world of comics he didn't die a lingering death, but instead found himself transformed into a purple-skinned abomination with a drastically increased metabolism. Soon learning he had to feed from various living beings in order to survive (he could feed off electricity or nuclear power in a jam, but there's just something about the energy of other life forms). An early rampage through the streets of metropolis brought the newborn Parasite into conflict with Superman, and it was then he learned he could absorb metahuman abilities as well, draining Superman of his powers and finding the Man of Tomorrow to be the gourmet cuisine of his new diet. Since then Superman and the Parasite have clashed numerous times, often leaving Superman drained and weakened until his body can reabsorb sufficient solar energy to get him back up to par.

As time went on, Rudy's powers continued to mutate, allowing him not only to retain the energies of another living being, but also their memories as well. This was illustrated at it's most startling when the Parasite drained arrogant scientist Dr. Torvell Freeman dry, killing the man. . .but leaving his mind cohabiting the Parasite's form, Rudy oftentimes arguing with the 'Doc' in the middle of a battle. As bad as a large purple humanoid attempting to drain your life force dry must be, imagine one that's talking to himself in two entirely different voices. The Parasite's appearance gradually warped over time as well, becoming less human and more like a mix between a man and a lamprey. The two caused Superman no end of trouble, including one point where--after absorbing a shapeshifter and retaining the power to alter their appearance--they impersonated Lois Lane for several weeks in an effort to break Superman emotionally. Lois Lane. Superman's wife. See, that's creepy on a level I was barely aware existed.

Of course, this origin and background is pre-Geoff Johns' new take in Superman: Secret Origins. I've no idea what the Parasite's status quo is these days, but from what I have available it wouldn't be too difficult to give the character an upgrade from Menace of the Month to High Octane Nightmare Fuel.

Let's suppose that Dr. Freeman isn't the only consciousness that the Parasite's absorbed that has retained their individuality. Gradually all these personas begin to overwhelm poor Rudy, to the point that he's just one more face in the crowd. Over time these personalities begin to realize that they're not 'real', just copies of whatever poor souls were unfortunate enough to get in the way of the monstrosity they've now become part of. They get scared. . .they get angry. . .and then they get something far, far worse. They get organized.

The monstrosity that roars and lumbers through Metropolis, drawing in Superman and the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit and the Science Police, that's largely for show. Rudy's mind has been confined to that form (with one or two monitors to keep his gibbering wreck of a mind on track) while the rest of the mass has used the powers of shapeshifting they've gained to split off into various individual forms. After all, being confined to one form and feeding one person or group of people at a time? That's small potatoes. What one 'probe' feeds from, they all can feed from after all. And once they absorb a victim, their knowledge, experience, and form (right down to the DNA) becomes a part of the Whole. Simply put, the Whole is getting smarter by the day, and pretty soon it's going to set it's sights on expansion. Infiltration into facilities like S.T.A.R. Labs, Lexcorp, Wayne Enterprises. . .maybe even the metahuman community. After all, who's going to miss a couple of those third-string heroes? And if they work hard enough, maybe they'll even get into the Justice League. So much food, so much hunger, but the Whole can be patient. Patient like a spider is patient, like a shark on the hunt is patient. Not only will the prey come to them, it will do so with open arms and a smile.

And from the beaming face it stole from a corpse, the Parasite smiles back.

Hero Tune-Up: Steel.

What atonement is there for blood spilt upon the earth?
-Aeschylus

Steel did it first.

Dr. John Henry Irons was an engineering genius with a simple dream: to create weapons that would make the waging of war entirely undesirable. Unfortunately his noble intentions led to the creation of armaments whose hideous potential for destruction made them the hot-ticket item for would-be warlords, despots, and gang-bangers when the company he worked for sold them on the black market. Faking his death for fear the immoral corporation would coerce him into making more weapons for criminals Irons went underground, building a new life as a steel worker in Metropolis. Saving a friend from a fall from a skyscraper under construction led to Irons' nearly plummeting to his death, only to be saved at the last minute by Superman. Wanting to know how best to express his gratitude, the Man of Tomorrow simply asked him to live 'a life worth saving' and then flew off. A few weeks later, Superman died fighting the monstrosity known as Doomsday(he got better, but that's another story).

Recovering from injuries sustained during Doomsday's rampage, Irons discovered to his horror that without Superman to protect the streets Metropolis was descending into a gang war, a war whose armament of choice was a weapon of his own design. Shaken by Superman's death and wanting to honor the legacy of the man who had saved his life and so many others besides, Irons designed a suit of powered armor and took to the streets, doing his best to protect the weak and the helpless in a world without a Superman. Originally dubbed 'The Man of Steel' by Lois Lane, the title was eventually shortened to simply 'Steel', and upon Superman's return from death (comics everybody), he became a valued ally. Steel would go on to fight crime in his native Washington, D.C., and eventually become a member of the fabled Justice League of America.

He's been in his own solo series, the awesome crossover event known as 52, and has been a member of the JLA during one of it's most glorious creative periods. He's an armored super-genius attempting to atone for the use of weapons he designed falling into the wrong hands. Sound a little familiar? He's the best parts of Iron Man and Superman(with a neat little nod to the legend of John Henry) and he gets to wield Thor's hammer(okay, not mjolnir, but Steel's hammer is nothing to laugh at; he can control it's trajectory and has kinetic enhancement technology embedded inside it that makes it's blows feel less like a sledgehammer and more like an oncoming train). So why is it this guy can't seem to break out from the minors to the majors?

There are very, very compelling elements to the character of Steel but for all that there's been a lack of what I would call a hook, something to hang the character's personality upon and build upon until he stands completely on his own merit. For me that hook is the need to atone, to make up for the lives destroyed by his own actions and creations. True he never fired one of his weapons, but he designed them, made them as lethal as he could from the (somewhat laudable) reasoning that if they were so horrible, no one in there right mind would dare conceive to use them. Unfortunately, not everyone shared John's world view and as a result his weapons caused death on a massive scale. Every action he takes, whether it be in his armor or as the head of the philanthropic scientific think-tank Steelworks is to build a better world, a safer and happier world. Much like Iron Man, Steel is a futurist and wants a better world. With a bevvy of some of the DCU's brightest minds and most philanthropic backers (Wayne Enterprises and KORD Inc. in particular) he's going to build it, one girder at a time

Marry to that a desire to redeem others as well. Given a second chance by the world's greatest hero, I think that John would reach out and offer the chance for others to get their lives back together, particularly when it comes to the various 'mad scientists' of the DC Universe. Working with various prisons like Belle Reve or Blackgate, Irons would gain access to some of the DC Universe's most brilliant (albeit unbalanced) minds. The deal offered is simple: work with Steelworks and not only gain years off your sentence and the possibility of an early parole, but gain the recognition and respect you feel you were cheated out of. Villain being villains there are doubtless a few who'd think nothing of playing the teary-eyed penitent in order to play Irons for a chump. That said, trying to outwit the guy who designed the defence grid for the Justice League's headquarters and provides the heavily-armed Science Police with a variety of weaponry (non-lethal) capable of downing Solomon Grundy in four shots. . .well, best of luck with that. Steel is optimistic, not naive.

Steel in many ways is the anti-Lex Luthor. Where Luthor uses his brilliance to ensure his wealth, power, and dominance of others, John Henry uses his genius to make his city and the world cleaner, safer, and more secure. He fills a role that DC doesn't really have much of; that of the Reed Richards super-genius. Most of the scientists in the DCU tend to either fall into the Mr. Exposition or Mad Scientist archetypes, but Steel provides an example of a scientist who is not only brilliant, but capable as well. If any of Steel's experiments were to run amuck, he has the tools to deal with it. Well, one really big tool anyway.

It's of interest to me that Batman and his extended family can have a slew of titles and yet Superman and his merry crew seem to have difficulty sustaining any book without a kryptonian (or half-human clone thereof). Steel is a character rife with storytelling potential, and in the right hands could be one of the DCU's starting lineup with very little modification from his core concept. It'd be one of the books I'd write for free and without hesitation. And I haven't even mentioned ideas for storylines, like the resurrection of Tomorrow Woman, or the ascension of Amazo from brute thug to master villain. . .those would be pretty awesome tales to tell, no doubt.

DC, have your people call mine. We'll do lunch.

-Stac

Ahem.

Content to resume shortly. Your patience is appreciated.

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The Chosen Meh.

I was watching television when an advertisement for Disney's upcoming cinematic abomination The Sorcerer's Apprentice(that high-pitched turbine sound you hear in the middle distance would be Johann Wolfgang von Goethe spinning in his grave at a bastardization of his work created solely as a Harry Potter cash grab) and in those moments as the white-hot haze of contempt and rage worked their magic over me I experienced a moment of sublime clarity: I am rapidly coming to hate the concept of the Chosen One.

It's a staple almost as old as fiction itself: the one boy/girl/man/woman/dog/cat/pineapple who can save the world and defeat the Evil One, thus restoring peace to the land and blah, blather, bleh. The coming of this hero is usually foretold, most likely via a prophecy or an oracle or even an urban legend spread via word of mouth. He'll be meek an unassuming at first, maybe even an outright child, but gradually he levels up in badassery until he finally slays the Big Bad, the music swells and the credits roll and etc, etc, etc. . .Joseph Campbell noted the similarities between myths across various cultures and eventually created a term for this kind of story: The Hero's Journey. Basically, it breaks down as follows:

'A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.'

Within this pattern everything from Beowulf to Braveheart, from Gilgamesh to John McClane can be encapsulated. Which can be a double-edged sword when it comes to attempting to win over an increasingly genre-savvy audience.

Don't get me wrong, in the hands of a master storyteller this formula can be as gripping and engaging as anything you've ever heard but it seems of late that this story is the only one that can be told. As a result what was once a seemingly shock-proof, indestructible example of story is now beginning to show telltale signs of wear.

I've no issue with a hero being the last hope. Hell, it worked out just fine for my favorite non-kryptonian hero Luke Skywalker(and yes, I realize a lot of my bile from the earlier paragraph could easily be applied to Luke. Kinda. Maybe. Shut up) in his rise from whiny farmboy to the first of the Returned Jedi. The whole notion of one chosen throughout the world to battle the demons, the vampires, and the forces of darkness didn't bother me either, as Buffy Summers was part of a continuum of Slayers whose legacy spanned the centuries. These variants on the classic Hero's Journey work for me, as they worked for legions of Star Wars and Buffy fans the world over(and even Star Wars and Buffy took that formula and turned it completely on it's head: Anakin Skywalker may have been the Chosen One, but look how he went about it. Buffy took Destiny by the throat and shook it until the Chosen One became the Chosen Many).

No, it's the repetition of this cycle over and over in the wake of Pottermania that's making my teeth grind together, as Hollywood throws whatever it can up on screen in the hopes of squeezing a tired premise one more time in hopes of wringing blood from a stone. While The Sorcerer's Apprentice might actually be a decent film, and Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief may well have rocked on toast, it's this continued reuse of a tired formula again and again that is a surefire kiss of death to your film, comic, or novel. Simply put, your audience knows the score. Give them some credit, and throw them the occasional twist to keep them amused and entertained(Deep Blue Sea contains my favorite example of this, as the Heroic Leader archetype in the form of Sam Jackson is suddenly and rather graphically cut off mid-sentence. Stone silence in the theatre save for me busting out laughing and thanking the screenwriter mentally for tipping his hat to me so jauntily).

If a story is well-told with passion then whether or not it's structure is familiar won't matter at all. But if it's just in it for the money, we're going to see the emperor's new clothes exactly for what they are. Nothing at all.

Stac