Thursday, March 12, 2009

Dead American Heroes

Published 03-12-2009 in The California Aggie

Warning: Potential Watchmen Spoilers

For awhile now, the anti-hero phenomenon has been permeating. During the last decade, our superheroes increasingly exhibited fallibilities often associated with regular people, such as pathological inconsistencies (Batman), general clumsiness (Superman), addiction to alcohol (Hellboy), and extreme temperance (the Hulk). Yet they would still recover; despite suffering setbacks and wounds, they will summon valiant courage and unconquerable strength to defeat the evil Soviet empire and plotters threatening the world.

But the American superhero is finally dead. The superhero as we know it is no longer existent. Optimism will now be a word from the past. We have reached a tipping point, one where the moral authority and ethical correctness of the superhero have finally become irrelevant.

How do we know this? Because in Watchmen, the protagonist makes a statement for peace and good by killing millions of innocent people. They are good by being evil.

Watchmen is at once stylistically accomplished and aesthetically rewarding. But the true strength of the movie lies in its plot. The plot focuses on the histories and narratives of the Watchmen, guardians and protectors of the city. Here, each member has individual, broken pasts. But they gain resolve through their histories, and unite to stop similar injustices from occurring.

When the Comedian, a Watchmen member, is assassinated, they are roused from their collective hibernation. An assault on one is an assault on all. They are confused as they are attacked. Many undergo numerous trials; but they soon realize that the killing is an act planned and executed by one of their members. He seeks to annihilate each.

And this is the irony. The entire story is a joke in destiny. To save billions, millions are killed. By sacrificing innocents in the New York City, the protagonist-antagonist is attempting to save the world from a broader nuclear war between the Soviet Union and America. When his ploy succeeds, the American and Soviet governments declare truce to combat the common perceived hero-turned-enemy, Mr. Manhattan. This is killing to prevent killing.

At its essence, thus, Watchmen is a morality tale. The protagonists discover that they’re not fighting for their personal existence, but for the soul of America. The masked heroes were previously the guardians of society. But they can’t keep saving America now because they are faceless, without identity. They need to cease to exist. The true heroes must instead be the police force, the firefighters, the politicians, and the teachers. America needs a real face to it. Superheroes can’t accomplish this.

In some ways, this paradox harks utilitarianism, where one’s action, however seemingly wrong, is done for the greater good. What seems unreasonable is done for a reason. Sacrifices are necessary.

More broadly, this is recognition that we are finally acknowledging truth for what it really is: Masked superheroes are figments of our imagination. They are unraveled for who they truly are. The reality is that the American superhero never truly existed. It was a concoction of fantasy, a superhero created to provide a sense of security and safety. They existed insofar as we gave them life.

What caused us to realize and admit this truth? It is this: the nation has both lost faith in the power of her ideals, as well as accepting the qualities of an integrated postmodern world. On the one hand, she is wearied from wars, her financial system is crumbling and her beliefs are shaken. At the same time, America has come to view the world as one where events are the consequence of interdependent, random confluences. America is not a sole city on a hill, but only a city among many.

Superhero movies are a reflection of the way a nation sees itself. Watchmen showed us that America has finally accepted the reality that an American superhero never existed. March 6th was the day the American superhero died.

ZACH HAN absolutely loved Watchmen; he thinks the faceless Rorschach is pretty maniacal. Agree with him at zklhan@ucdavis.edu

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The American schizophrenia

Published 03-05-2009 in The California Aggie

A quiet endemic has been spreading around for awhile now. It is stealthy yet lasting. It affects every facet of our lives, impacting the way we behave, act, expect and communicate. And the endemic is this: Americans are facing a crisis of identity — we create then deny what we create.

The prominent conservative blogger Andrew Sullivan, in an insightful 2006 The Times article, termed this phenomenon “schizophrenia.” For him, the problem with America is that we glorify and elevate certain figures and attitudes, then strangely seek to destroy them. We want but we do not want. And this paradox occurs because it gives meaning to our culture. At its essence, this schizophrenia is necessary as it is polarizing.

This schizophrenia manifests itself in many aspects of our lives. Take our food. We have become, by choice and circumstance, a nation of instant, fast food. We eat what is immediately producible: microwavable ramen, pre-packaged tri-tip steaks, instant spaghetti, Diet Coke. In a life of fast paces, our food has become fast too.

Yet we then react against the unhealthiness of this consumption. Healthy living organizations sprout up, promoting the slow preparation and organization that goes into making meals. Anti-cholesterol supporters crusade in a ferocious quest to eliminate trans-fatty acids from foods, lobbying government officials and advertising their adversaries as vested interests with skewed intentions. There is a real, substantial disdain for the deterioration of our food production and quality as much as consumers love them. And for the consumer, there is a knowable guilt to eating these, yet the behavior persists.

This phenomenon is especially evident in the entertainment industry. We endow our celebrities with the highest possible recognition. They constantly grace the front pages of our magazines and emerge as the subject of late-night talk shows. We ravish and celebrate their beauty, talent and charisma. Celebrities, in our world, are ascended to the highest echelons.

Yet we also bemoan their individual failings. We criticize Gwyneth Paltrow for being underweight, analyze Lindsay Lohan’s romantic tendencies and arguments with her partner, scrutinize Angelina Jolie’s and Jennifer Anniston’s ongoing “feud.” We question the morality of their actions and the sanity of their doings. The conversation then emerges as a battle between tradition and ethics and modernization and liberation. We admire and disdain them simultaneously, without truly being sure what we actually feel about them.

And the entire point is that this schizophrenia is necessary for the collective function of numerous parties and industries. This is a cyclical endeavor that rewards everyone. As Sullivan remarked, commentators critique and lambast, entertainers receive publicity, media managers get a job, newspaper ratings increase, consumers delight. In this circle, everyone gains a voice, all winning in the game of rise-and-blame. This process demands the participation of a leader, followers, reactionaries, anti-reactionaries. It requires proponents and opponents in equal intensity and measure.

Hence what America crystallizes it seeks to destroy. And this is the paradox: the artificiality and authenticity of each action is true. Both are legitimate and authoritative. There is hypocrisy in one seeking collective approval. Yet there are also true believers, soothsayers who strive for the individual, redeeming qualities.

This schizophrenia is the uncompromising reality and quality that defines postmodern America. And it is necessary to view this entire proceeding from a lens that is detached, removed and far. Because, like always, a schizophrenia is bewildering.

Adhering to the spirit of schizophrenia, ZACH HAN welcomes both your congratulatory messages and demeaning criticisms to zklhan@ucdavis.edu