Superman is good, Batman is, worldly.
He's a business man, in this film he's also a 'buff' middle aged, possible manic depressive, lethareo, and he does not want to be a super hero. For some reason, that no one knows, he doesn't want anyone else to be a Super hero either. In fact he decidedly takes against Superman.
The imagery is so 9:11 you think your life hasn't moved on. You have not a clue what is going on for the first 35 minutes...at least...then you start to wonder if the Americans really believe that if you throw enough muscle at it, enough gratuitous violence, enough weird sentiment...then you can dispose of dialogue, acting,truth, hope, joy...cinematic experience, and be glad, so glad you went to see Americanism at it sorriest, saddest level.
With the unhinged Lex2, techno freak , believing he can kill God.
America killed God?
America killed cinema?
America killed?
Lois Lane tripping around in 8 inch heals; impressive in a dessert massacre, the streets of Gotham, her workplace, her home, underwater, in an apocalyptic landscape ...at the grave side ...
It's exhausting how shallow I feel, how empty, how hopeless and futile and shallow this world is.
The only thing that jollies it up is wonder women's appearance, her costume is so good it doesn't need colour. Nobody cares where she comes from, everyone is glad she turns up.
Then there's the weeping at the tomb, Superman, despite his annoying dalliances with Lois, is the saviour from somewhere else...and he will return. There were sub terranean tremors, there were.
He is not dead...
HE is alive...
He's a business man, in this film he's also a 'buff' middle aged, possible manic depressive, lethareo, and he does not want to be a super hero. For some reason, that no one knows, he doesn't want anyone else to be a Super hero either. In fact he decidedly takes against Superman.
The imagery is so 9:11 you think your life hasn't moved on. You have not a clue what is going on for the first 35 minutes...at least...then you start to wonder if the Americans really believe that if you throw enough muscle at it, enough gratuitous violence, enough weird sentiment...then you can dispose of dialogue, acting,truth, hope, joy...cinematic experience, and be glad, so glad you went to see Americanism at it sorriest, saddest level.
With the unhinged Lex2, techno freak , believing he can kill God.
America killed God?
America killed cinema?
America killed?
Lois Lane tripping around in 8 inch heals; impressive in a dessert massacre, the streets of Gotham, her workplace, her home, underwater, in an apocalyptic landscape ...at the grave side ...
It's exhausting how shallow I feel, how empty, how hopeless and futile and shallow this world is.
The only thing that jollies it up is wonder women's appearance, her costume is so good it doesn't need colour. Nobody cares where she comes from, everyone is glad she turns up.
Then there's the weeping at the tomb, Superman, despite his annoying dalliances with Lois, is the saviour from somewhere else...and he will return. There were sub terranean tremors, there were.
He is not dead...
HE is alive...
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