For this Kansan, Fantastic Four and Superman films slice through grimness with moral clarity

For the past two weeks now, I’ve gone to the movies.

That’s probably the first time in a half decade or so that I’ve actually chosen to buy tickets, make the drive out to the Lawrence multiplex, and watch two films on two successive Sundays. The first was the latest incarnation of Superman, the second a new take on the Fantastic Four.

I’m not actually the world’s biggest superhero movie fan. I enjoy them well enough, but I’ve sat out most recent entries. Too much spandex, too many capes, not enough human connection — except the punching and kicking kind. Yet the Fantastic Four and Superman both interested me enough to take the plunge. My husband, at one time a devoted comics reader, made the decision easier. We can always find something to talk about afterward, even if the movies are bad.

Yet neither movie was bad. And both had a lot to say about the world right now.

Sunday columnist Max McCoy covered Superman for the Reflector a couple of weeks ago, noting recent controversy about the hero’s immigration status. (He’s from the planet Krypton, after all, although raised right here in Kansas.) The Fantastic Four film reboots the first superhero team created for Marvel Comics, setting up a confrontation with cosmic baddie Galactus in alternate-history 1960s New York. Picture analogue robots, flying cars and sleek spaceships. It depicts a world in which nations eagerly work together to combat a common threat.

Wouldn’t it be nice to live in such a world? Wouldn’t it be nice to have that world inhabited by super-beings who work for the betterment of everyone?

Each film adopts a pointedly optimistic, earnest tone. My husband noted that either one would have been unthinkable 10 or 20 years ago, when irony was the coin of the realm.

These days, we want sincerity. Even in our escapist weekend entertainment, we want to believe that we can work together with our fellow human beings. We want to believe that folks among us can be, well, super. If you want wisecracks and sarcasm, you can pull up whatever social media platform you choose.

The films put me in mind of another Kansas Reflector columnist, Mark McCormick. Last week, he argued that attacks on the U.S. Department of Education undermine the common good.

“Increasing waves of politicians exalt qualities that should disqualify them as public officials: a mistrust of government, demonizing opponents, and supporting private schools with public money,” Mark wrote. “These qualities should stand as barriers to candidacy, not bona fides.“

Both the Fantastic Four and Superman devote themselves to the common good.

That’s why they’re superheroes — not because of their powers, but because of their morals. They serve humanity. They serve their country. They serve one another. The Fantastic Four literally contains a family: Reed Richards (Mr. Fantastic) and Sue Storm (the Invisible Woman) are a married couple, while Johnny Storm (the Human Torch) is Sue’s brother and Ben Grimm (the Thing) is a close friend. During the film, Reed and Sue welcome their son, Franklin, into the world.

“They are parents first,” director Matt Shakman told Variety. “They are scientists and explorers second. And they’re superheroes only when they have to be. I come at this as a dad and as a husband. That’s what makes it so special to me.”

Every summer brings superhero films. Almost every superhero film brings battles between good and evil. Yet these films, and this summer, suggest to me that both filmmakers and audiences yearn for more than thrills. They want clarity. They want warm, nurturing, uncomplicated goodness.

Unfortunately, that’s not the world right now.

We live in a state and nation riven by partisan divides. Figuring out the right course in a shattered political landscape can flummox the most informed among us. Rather than the bright clarity of the movies, alternate realities where we know good from bad and right from wrong, where villains helpfully sneer and snarl at heroes, we have to make the best-informed decisions we can. We make decisions without knowing the outcome, only hoping for the best.

Superheroes appear in comic books on and screen. Those of us navigating troubled times have to find that heroism, moral clarity and dedication to others within ourselves.

We may not fly. But we can soar.

Clay Wirestone is Kansas Reflector opinion editor. Through its opinion section, Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.