Zack Snyder's Justice League
A lot has been written about this movie, much of it relating to its relationship with a version of itself released in 2017 that director, cast and crew have, mostly, disowned entirely. That version. while still crediting Zack Snyder as its director, was, so goes the story, a tonally and narratively incoherent mess cobbled together from studio notes and reshots done by substitute director Joss Whedon, a reportedly rather nasty person accused of multiple accounts of sexual harassment and bullying. Impressions of this version overwhelmingly assess it on a scale from barely watchable to unwatchable. I'll have to believe those impressions, because I haven't seen that version. What I have seen was Justice League's predecessor, 2016s superhero epic Batman v Superman, also directed by Zack Snyder. Much like Rian Johnson's playful Star Wars sequel Last Jedi, Batman v Superman was a controversial release that earned the ire of the notoriously close minded nerd orthodoxy and was widely considered an act of iconoclasm towards a beloved cultural artefact. The fact that Warner Bros bowed to that outrage lead to the 2017 of Justice League, after Snyders had to quit the project practically on the finish line, following a death in the family. 4 years later, in spite of Warner Bros and in spite of toxic fan culture that would have gladly burned Snyder at the stake for bringing a degree of introspection and social commentary to the superhero genre, we finally get his version of Justice League and what might very well be the most ambitious work the genre ever produced. There are countless angles from which one could review Zack Snyder Justice League. Mine is that of a fan of Snyder's previous works in the genre, mainly Watchmen and Batman v Superman. So, how does it compare, then?
Well, even compared to those two movies, Justice League is an absolute monster. At a runtime of 4 hours and 2 minutes it's the longest movie I've watched since Love Exposure (I swear, I'll get around to Satantango some day) and as a fan of Snyder's previous movies, it managed to subvert my expectations in more than a few ways. Of course I'm using this expression with just a hint of sarcasm, considering the very people treating BvS or TLJ as inexcusable acts of heresy tend to complain about exactly that. So let me clarify that I'm not using it in a negative way. BvS, Justice League's immediate predecessor, was a rather dark and downbeat movie, as big on sociopolitical commentary as it was on spectacle. It adressed themes of political corruption, propaganda, paranoia and many more through a moody and gothic stylistic lense. Justice League, in comparison, is a surprisingly sentimental and, may I say, almost whimsical film. Which isn't to say that it's less thematically rich, mind you. While I'll have to see Justice League a few more times before I can properly compare it to BvS or Watchmen, narrative and visual language both strike me as quite rich. But where Batman v Superman, up until the end, had almost a film noir sensibility to itself, where jaded main characters were investigating sinister conspiracies with a megalomaniacal capitalist in their center, Justice League completely embraces epic fantasy to an overwhelming degree. In retrospect it seems like an obvious development, of course. Where Man of Steel started off with a tone that owed more than a bit to Christopher Nolan's stubborn gritty realism and Batman v Superman had a constant undercurrent of Watchmen's larger than life pop mysticism traing to break through the veneer or a David Fincher style neo noir, Justice League depicts a world of pure magical realism, invoking Guillermo Del Toro and Terry Gilliam in how it depicts a world which is based on our own, yet couldn't possibly be confused for it. Atlanteans live on the bottom of the sea, Amazons on the island of Themysceria off the coast of Greece, a sinister force form another world has its eyes set on all of it. The premise is a rather conventional one, actually. The death of Superman activated three ancient devices, referred to as Motherboxes, which, in turn, catch the attention of horned demonic emissary Steppenwolf, servant of evil overlord Darkseid, who resembles a cross of Thanos from the Avengers and Baron Underbheit from Venture Brothers. Bruce "Batman" Wayne and Diana "Wonder Woman" Prince prepare for his invasion by recruiting a team of six superhumans. They all get their share of character development. Arthur "Aquaman" Curry lives a reclusive life as a local hero in a poor icelandic fishing village, teenagers Barry "The Flash" (Though I don't think anyone if the movie ever calls him that) Allen and Victor "Cyborg" Stone represent a younger generation of heroes and while both, though moreso Stone, come with their share of heavy emotional baggage but still provide a decent contrast to grizzled veterans Batman, Wonder Woman and Aquaman.
The reluctant, yet in the end sincere comraderie among these characters is probably the most jarring tonal difference between Batman v Superman and Justice League. Having introduced Bruce Wayne as an unhinged, paranoid mess in the previous movie, his quest for salvation and acceptance of his responsibilities leads to situations where his jaded exterior gives way to moments of self deprecating humor and almost fatherly concern for the younger team members. Cyborg's backstory is a source of angst, yet the focus is on overcoming it rather than wallowing in it. The Flash, for better and for worse, sometimes feels like an exchange student from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, an awkward nerdy teenager who uses snark to hide his obvious insecurities. Justice League is not necessarily a light hearted movie, but one with a constant underlying current of warmth and optimism. If Batman v Superman was about the things that divide us, then Justice League is about the things that connect us. In a flashback we find out that when the forces of Darkseid last attacked earth, they were stopped by only by humanity coming together and standing up to him united. It's almost corny in how it puts these themes of hope, love and friendship forward. The best example might be the action sequence that introduces us to Wonder Woman. It's climactic moment involves a far right terrorist holding a group of school children at gunpoint that conjures up very uncomfortable memories of the crimes of Anders Breivik. It ends with Wondy disposing of him with great prejudice and consoling a little girl. Justice League never backs down from the moral that evil can be defeated, that a better future is possible and that personal demons can be overcome.
Justice League is not the end I expected Snyder's trilogy to have, but perhaps the one it needed. It abandons most of the its predecessors more deconstructive elements in favour of something that is just as dramatic and just as opulent, yet also thoroughly uplifting and inspirational. The subtitle "Dawn of Justice" might fit it better than it did Batman v Superman, because, if nothing else, it feels like daybreak after a particularly dark and rainy night. It is jarring, yet not unwelcome, to see Zack Snyder utilize his talent for high drama and unrestrained opulence to build a monument to hope. In retrospect, there was a clear progression from Man of Steel's grounded, matter of fact realism, followed by Batman v Superman's gothic, philosophical deconstructionism to Justice League's triumphant celebration of superhero media. Some scenes suggest that a potential continuation, unlikely as it is, considering the movies history, would go some darker places again, which might be interesting in its own right, but as it is, Justice League concludes Zack Snyder's trilogy on a high note. Was it what I expected? No, for the most part. But I want art to surprise me, not to appease me. Zack Snyder fought hard for his vision to be realized, but he got away with it. And after all he's been through he deserves nothing but respect for it.
A lot has been written about this movie, much of it relating to its relationship with a version of itself released in 2017 that director, cast and crew have, mostly, disowned entirely. That version. while still crediting Zack Snyder as its director, was, so goes the story, a tonally and narratively incoherent mess cobbled together from studio notes and reshots done by substitute director Joss Whedon, a reportedly rather nasty person accused of multiple accounts of sexual harassment and bullying. Impressions of this version overwhelmingly assess it on a scale from barely watchable to unwatchable. I'll have to believe those impressions, because I haven't seen that version. What I have seen was Justice League's predecessor, 2016s superhero epic Batman v Superman, also directed by Zack Snyder. Much like Rian Johnson's playful Star Wars sequel Last Jedi, Batman v Superman was a controversial release that earned the ire of the notoriously close minded nerd orthodoxy and was widely considered an act of iconoclasm towards a beloved cultural artefact. The fact that Warner Bros bowed to that outrage lead to the 2017 of Justice League, after Snyders had to quit the project practically on the finish line, following a death in the family. 4 years later, in spite of Warner Bros and in spite of toxic fan culture that would have gladly burned Snyder at the stake for bringing a degree of introspection and social commentary to the superhero genre, we finally get his version of Justice League and what might very well be the most ambitious work the genre ever produced. There are countless angles from which one could review Zack Snyder Justice League. Mine is that of a fan of Snyder's previous works in the genre, mainly Watchmen and Batman v Superman. So, how does it compare, then?
Well, even compared to those two movies, Justice League is an absolute monster. At a runtime of 4 hours and 2 minutes it's the longest movie I've watched since Love Exposure (I swear, I'll get around to Satantango some day) and as a fan of Snyder's previous movies, it managed to subvert my expectations in more than a few ways. Of course I'm using this expression with just a hint of sarcasm, considering the very people treating BvS or TLJ as inexcusable acts of heresy tend to complain about exactly that. So let me clarify that I'm not using it in a negative way. BvS, Justice League's immediate predecessor, was a rather dark and downbeat movie, as big on sociopolitical commentary as it was on spectacle. It adressed themes of political corruption, propaganda, paranoia and many more through a moody and gothic stylistic lense. Justice League, in comparison, is a surprisingly sentimental and, may I say, almost whimsical film. Which isn't to say that it's less thematically rich, mind you. While I'll have to see Justice League a few more times before I can properly compare it to BvS or Watchmen, narrative and visual language both strike me as quite rich. But where Batman v Superman, up until the end, had almost a film noir sensibility to itself, where jaded main characters were investigating sinister conspiracies with a megalomaniacal capitalist in their center, Justice League completely embraces epic fantasy to an overwhelming degree. In retrospect it seems like an obvious development, of course. Where Man of Steel started off with a tone that owed more than a bit to Christopher Nolan's stubborn gritty realism and Batman v Superman had a constant undercurrent of Watchmen's larger than life pop mysticism traing to break through the veneer or a David Fincher style neo noir, Justice League depicts a world of pure magical realism, invoking Guillermo Del Toro and Terry Gilliam in how it depicts a world which is based on our own, yet couldn't possibly be confused for it. Atlanteans live on the bottom of the sea, Amazons on the island of Themysceria off the coast of Greece, a sinister force form another world has its eyes set on all of it. The premise is a rather conventional one, actually. The death of Superman activated three ancient devices, referred to as Motherboxes, which, in turn, catch the attention of horned demonic emissary Steppenwolf, servant of evil overlord Darkseid, who resembles a cross of Thanos from the Avengers and Baron Underbheit from Venture Brothers. Bruce "Batman" Wayne and Diana "Wonder Woman" Prince prepare for his invasion by recruiting a team of six superhumans. They all get their share of character development. Arthur "Aquaman" Curry lives a reclusive life as a local hero in a poor icelandic fishing village, teenagers Barry "The Flash" (Though I don't think anyone if the movie ever calls him that) Allen and Victor "Cyborg" Stone represent a younger generation of heroes and while both, though moreso Stone, come with their share of heavy emotional baggage but still provide a decent contrast to grizzled veterans Batman, Wonder Woman and Aquaman.
The reluctant, yet in the end sincere comraderie among these characters is probably the most jarring tonal difference between Batman v Superman and Justice League. Having introduced Bruce Wayne as an unhinged, paranoid mess in the previous movie, his quest for salvation and acceptance of his responsibilities leads to situations where his jaded exterior gives way to moments of self deprecating humor and almost fatherly concern for the younger team members. Cyborg's backstory is a source of angst, yet the focus is on overcoming it rather than wallowing in it. The Flash, for better and for worse, sometimes feels like an exchange student from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, an awkward nerdy teenager who uses snark to hide his obvious insecurities. Justice League is not necessarily a light hearted movie, but one with a constant underlying current of warmth and optimism. If Batman v Superman was about the things that divide us, then Justice League is about the things that connect us. In a flashback we find out that when the forces of Darkseid last attacked earth, they were stopped by only by humanity coming together and standing up to him united. It's almost corny in how it puts these themes of hope, love and friendship forward. The best example might be the action sequence that introduces us to Wonder Woman. It's climactic moment involves a far right terrorist holding a group of school children at gunpoint that conjures up very uncomfortable memories of the crimes of Anders Breivik. It ends with Wondy disposing of him with great prejudice and consoling a little girl. Justice League never backs down from the moral that evil can be defeated, that a better future is possible and that personal demons can be overcome.
Justice League is not the end I expected Snyder's trilogy to have, but perhaps the one it needed. It abandons most of the its predecessors more deconstructive elements in favour of something that is just as dramatic and just as opulent, yet also thoroughly uplifting and inspirational. The subtitle "Dawn of Justice" might fit it better than it did Batman v Superman, because, if nothing else, it feels like daybreak after a particularly dark and rainy night. It is jarring, yet not unwelcome, to see Zack Snyder utilize his talent for high drama and unrestrained opulence to build a monument to hope. In retrospect, there was a clear progression from Man of Steel's grounded, matter of fact realism, followed by Batman v Superman's gothic, philosophical deconstructionism to Justice League's triumphant celebration of superhero media. Some scenes suggest that a potential continuation, unlikely as it is, considering the movies history, would go some darker places again, which might be interesting in its own right, but as it is, Justice League concludes Zack Snyder's trilogy on a high note. Was it what I expected? No, for the most part. But I want art to surprise me, not to appease me. Zack Snyder fought hard for his vision to be realized, but he got away with it. And after all he's been through he deserves nothing but respect for it.
