Why Superhero Films Are Failing

There’s been a lot of discussion this summer about the failure of so many superhero films. They’re making money, but not nearly as much as expected. And until Captain America came along, it seemed to be getting worse with each passing film. Any number of explanations have been offered for this underperformance. Some suggest ticket prices are the problem. Others say it’s because the current crop of superheroes are second tier guys, i.e. the B-Team. Some blame oversaturation. But I don’t find those answers satisfying.

If ticket prices were the problem, then you would see a drop for all films. But there’s been no such drop. The “second-tier superhero” argument doesn’t wash either. It’s hard to argue that Iron Man or X-Men were “first tier” superheroes before they hit it big in theaters. And nothing is more first tier than Superman or the Incredible Hulk, yet both have struggled — not to mention Wonder Woman, who can’t even get a series off the ground.

The oversaturation argument is intriguing. On the one hand, oversaturation cannot be THE problem because people wouldn’t turn out for surprise hits like Captain America if they were just sick of superhero films generally. Also, if oversaturation really was THE problem, then why don’t slasher flicks or romcoms suffer from this? Those genres have been steadily turning out the same film year after year for decades. Still, I do think oversaturation plays a part in this puzzle. In particular, oversaturation makes these films less special, which makes people more selective. Being more selective means people are less likely to see films they don’t think are worth their time or money. But what is it that is causing people to choose some superhero films over others? In a word: plot.

Hollywood is using a bad formula for superhero films.

Hollywood wants to appeal both to fanboys and the public at large while also setting up the franchise for future films. But this requires catering to seemingly contradictory desires. The public wants a film that doesn’t require them to read the comic book series to understand the movie. Hollywood thinks that means they need to provide a primer on the series. But the fanboys want a deep, new story and don’t want to see a Cliff’s Notes version of the comic book series. And nobody wants to feel like they’re watching a movie that is just setting up future movies.

Hollywood tries to solve this dilemma by giving the public the origin story for the hero and the villain in the first half of the film, which is meant to teach the public the backstory and set up the franchise while making the public think they are seeing a full story. Then, in the second half of the film, they jam in a truncated version of some story from the series to please the fanboys. Then they finish with an “epic” 40 minute CGI fight to turn you into a drooling idiot and wipe your memory before you can leave the theater and warn people how much you hated the first 80 minutes.

This. . . satisfies. . . no. . . one!

Moreover, the formula used for the origin story stinks. This part of the story is presented in disguised-vignette form, connected only by the thinnest strands of plot. That plot is designed to feed you the information you need to know to establish the franchise and usually takes the form of a romance which connects the hero to the villain in some way. There are two reasons for this: (1) romances attract female audiences and (2) the romance gives the film a semblance of being one single story, even though it is really separate stories connected only by the love interest. The vignettes themselves are predictable and lame. They involve the hero discovering their powers, followed by a cliché-ridden 20 minutes of tired comedy as we see the hero learn how to use their powers through trial and error, the introduction of all the characters you need to know for the franchise and a quick glimpse into their lives, and a short version of the villain’s origin story. Then suddenly it’s off to the second plot, where nothing you just saw is relevant.

Think of this in Star Wars terms. Luke Skywalker: Curse of the Jedi Phantom Monster’s Vengeance would waste the first third of the film with Luke bumming around at work until he discovers he has hilarious Jedi skills: “Dude! I can make the coffee droid fly and make my boss change my evaluation.” This would be interspersed with scenes of hip, angry, young Darth Vader, a rich corporate titan who has the hots for Luke’s girl, who just happens to work for Vader LLC. The entire backstory of Vader’s life, i.e. the three prequels, would be condensed to about two minutes of whiny exposition as he woos the girlfriend: “Obi-wan never loved me and the emperor tricked me. . . now the world is going to pay. . . you smell purty!” Then suddenly Vader falls into an industrial grinder, ends up in the black suit, shoots a henchman, kicks a puppy, finds plans for a Death Star on eBay, builds it overnight, and kidnaps Luke’s girlfriend because that’s the only connection his story has to Luke. This forces Luke to use his powers to fight Vader in a 40 minute CGI death struggle as CGI buildings explode all around them. Roll credits. AndrewPrice slams own head into wall.

A better approach would be to pick one of the stories from the comic book series that really struck a chord with readers and produce that. Forget trying to sample the whole series and forget giving the complete history of each character up to that point: people won’t miss it. Think about it. Do we care that we didn’t see a young Quint getting sunk aboard the Indianapolis or buying his first boat or catching his first shark in Jaws or that we never got to see James Bond’s training before he showed up in Dr. No? Heck no! We do want backstory in our films, but that doesn’t mean you need to spend forty minutes showing it. It’s usually best to bring it out through the dialog as the film progresses.

This is what Hollywood needs to realize. You don’t need a primer to set up a franchise and you probably shouldn’t start with the origin story. Audiences want real stories they can get into, not background information presented as barely-connected vignettes followed by a huge fight scene. And whatever information the casual fans need can be presented as the film goes along in the dialog. Trust me: give the audience a genuine stand-alone story and they will respond.

Know any good superhero films?