by Chris Ryall
Superman went live action with two fifteen-part theatrical serials, Superman (1948) and Atom Man vs. Superman (1950), both starring Kirk Alyn as Superman. Alyn was fresh-faced and innocent-looking in 1948, and while his Superman suit was obviously padded to give him a bit more muscle mass, he cut a striking figure as Superman, particularly with his trademark jet-black hair and spitcurl. Alyn's Clark Kent was less impressive, a little blah. Although one could make the argument that the mild-mannered Kent should be a little blah, his distinctly different-from-Superman characterization of Kent wasn't that appealing.
Audiences were also disappointed in Kirk Alyn's flying. That is, they didn't get to see any. In a budget-conscious move, rather than rigging the actor with wires when Alyn as Superman leapt into the air to take flight, his figure would shift to an animated cartoon superimposed onto the real-world landscape. It's an odd-looking result — not necessarily bad, just a little off-putting. Lois was played by Noel Neill, later to reprise the role on television. Atom Man was notable mostly for the inclusion of Lex Luthor, played by Lyle Talbot. Pretty standard fare, neither remarkable nor awful.
George Reeves's Clark Kent was on screen far more than Superman because of budget constraints for special effects.
ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN © WARNER BROS. ENTERTAINMENT, INC. SUPERMAN™ © DC COMICS.
THE SMALL SCREEN
Superman really hit it big in 1952 with the Adventures of Superman television series, starring George Reeves as Clark Kent/Superman, Phyllis Coates and Noel Neill as Lois, Jack Larson as Jimmy Olsen and John Hamilton as Perry White. The show quickly cemented the image of Superman in the public eye, making him even more of a household word.
Adventures in Superman's biggest asset was its star, George Reeves, whose easy, confident charm as Clark Kent went against the “mildmannered coward” take from the comic books, and made an instant connection with viewers. Reeves was a charming presence on camera, coming off as instantly likable either as Clark or Superman, and he brought a real physicality to the role that Kirk Alyn had lacked. More than anything, George Reeves exuded confidence. His Superman really looked as if he enjoyed being Superman. He'd be flying around with a big cheese-eating grin on his face, or making with an almost dismissive smirk as the bullets bounced off his chest (just before performing the de rigeur snatch of the revolver and crushing it in his hand). Watch as he busts through a brick wall — he's practically giddy.
As enjoyable as Reeves's Superman was, his Clark Kent was the real star of the show. No longer a nebbishy milksop and Lois Lane's doormat, Reeves's Kent was a hard-boiled investigative reporter, quick with a quip and every bit a match for Lois. Picture Reeves's Kent behind his desk at the Daily Planet, feet up on the desk and his fedora rakishly cocked back on his head, winking to the camera. Even in the staid 1950s, George Reeves made Superman cool.
The series remained a success as long as it was on the air — 104 episodes — and a seventh season was about to go into production in 1959 when the shocking news broke of George Reeves's death by gunshot wound, declared a suicide by the LAPD. Although the common story is that Reeves was despondent over being typecast as Superman, there's plenty of circumstantial evidence to the contrary. However, it's unlikely any answers will ever be forthcoming at this late date. There are only two defining performances of Superman, and Reeves's is one of them. Fortunately, we have his legacy of work to enjoy on DVD.
More than two decades after his debut in the role, Bud Collyer reprised the role for a series of Saturday-morning cartoons for Filmation: The New Adventures of Superman (1966), The Superman/Aquaman Hour of Adventure (1967) and The Batman/Superman Hour (1968). By the 1960s, Collyer's already gruff Superman voice had become even more gravelly, but he remained the go-to man for the job until his death in 1969.
From 1973 through 1985, Danny Dark provided the distinctive rich baritone for Superman on various Super Friends cartoon series. Dark spent most of his career as an announcer, his lengthy stint as the “official voice” of NBC throughout the late 1970s and 1980s being his highest-profile gig other than Super Friends. Danny Dark's performance of Superman had a reliable, paternalistic quality that gave the character a sense of utter dependability and stability, even when faced with some of the most nonsensical and downright goofy plotlines. Dark passed away from a pulmonary hemorrhage in 2004, but for millions of kids growing up in the 1970s and countless new fans still watching on video, he's still what Superman sounds like.
THE MOVIES
When Superman: The Movie premiered in 1978, it was a triumph creatively and commercially. Directed by Richard Donner, the film deftly handles the stark, sterile world of Krypton, the Midwestern plains of Clark Kent's childhood, and the big-city buzz of Metropolis. Christopher Reeve is note-perfect as Superman, with his nebbishly Clark Kent a joy to watch, as is Margot Kidder's wiseass Lois Lane turning to mush around Superman. Gene Hackman is both suitably villainous and laugh-out-loud funny as Lex Luthor, although his need to surround himself with dopey assistants is a bit overplayed, and his character suffers for it somewhat. However, the movie's success can almost entirely be laid at the feet of Reeve, who was the absolute best, the personification of what Superman should be, and whose performance still stands as the benchmark to measure all Superman performances, either before or since.
The Julliard-trained Reeve landed the part after Donner and the producers came to the realization that the superstars of the day like James Caan and Robert Redford (both of whom were considered for the role) simply wouldn't be believable in the part, not because they weren't good enough actors, but because the audience wouldn't be able to make the necessary disconnect to buy them as a guy flying around in a cape and tights. The decision to go with an unknown was the single biggest component in the success of the movie. Reeve's sincere, grounded and heartfelt performance served as an anchor for both the fantastic feats of super-powered derring-do and the lighter, comedic moments of Gene Hackman and Ned Beatty. Reeve plays a slightly restrained Superman — polite, courteous, friendly, yet always reserved — as if he's all too aware of the power at his disposal and his responsibility to use it wisely. Yet when pushed to the brink, Reeve's Superman is steely and intimidating, as seen in his exchanges with Luthor in Superman and General Zod in Superman II.
Some have criticized Reeve's Clark Kent as being too nerdy and clumsy, but his performance as the powerless, mortal Superman in Superman II validates his Kent, highlighting the lengths to which Superman goes to protect his identity and sublimating his true self to a ludicrous and embarrassing degree, all for the greater good. And for sheer dramatic gravitas, the moment in Superman when a heartbroken Kal-El cradles the lifeless body of Lois Lane in his arms — show us better acting than that in a more “serious” movie, because we'd like to see it.
The other strength of Reeve's performance, like George Reeves's (no relation between the two men, by the way), is his physicality in the role. Not only is Reeve in good enough condition to always look great in the none-too-forgiving costume, but his willingness to commit completely to the part, particularly in the films' breakthrough flying scenes, cements his place as the most convincing screen Superman. When Reeve angles his body to bank during flight or extends a foot for a gentle landing, it's difficult not to be convinced. To borrow a catchphrase, if you believe a man can fly, it's only because Christopher Reeve makes you believe.
Superman II (1980) is just as good as the original, with Richard Lester coming on board to direct the sequences that hadn't already been filmed by Donner in the gargantuan shooting schedule of the first film. The stuff that remained to be shot was crucial: the enormous fight sequences between Superman and General Zod, Ursa and Non, the three Kryptonian criminals who have come to Earth looking for a fight. And boy, they get one, in a fantastic sequence set in downtown Metropolis that still holds up nearly thirty years later. Terence Stamp's performance as General Zod is compelling. A lesser actor might have broken the intensity for a moment somewhere, and allowed a hint of self
-deprecating humor or irony to sneak in, but not Stamp. He just sells it, every moment he's on camera. “Now, son of Jor-El: Kneel before Zod!” We love this movie.
As for Superman III (1983) and Superman IV: The Quest For Peace (1987), well, the less said the better. Superman III, with a bewildering emphasis on Richard Pryor, is notable only for two things: Annette O'Toole's sweet performance as Lana Lang and a great sequence in which Superman is split into good and evil versions of himself by synthetic Kryptonite, and engages in a knuckleduster of a junkyard brawl. As for Superman IV, here's all you need to know: Jon Cryer as Lenny Luthor. Avoid it like the plague.
NEW ADVENTURES
The year 1988 saw a brand-new Saturday-morning animated Superman on television, following the lead of the newly revised comic books from DC, complete with the new billionaire version of Lex Luthor. The CBS series starring Beau Weaver in the role of Clark Kent/Superman lasted only one season and didn't make much of a splash.
Also in 1988 came the premiere of Superboy, a new live-action syndicated series from the Salkinds, the producers of the Superman films. Taking on the role of young Kal-El was John Haymes Newton in the series' first season, followed by Gerard Christopher in seasons two through four. The series began atrociously, with poor scripts, substandard visual effects and a limp, unmotivated performance by Newton, who never showed that charismatic spark that Reeves, Reeve or even Alyn had. The series improved dramatically in its second season, thanks to a transfusion of new talent in the writing room, many of whom were longtime comic-bookwriters such as Cary Bates, Mike Carlin and Andy Helfer. Also showing up more often were supervillains, as opposed to the crime bosses and thugs from the series' first season. Most responsible for the series' turnaround was new Superboy Gerard Christopher, brought in as a replacement for Newton, who held out for more money. Christopher seemed to take the role more seriously, his Clark Kent was more likable and approachable, and he had that ineffable quality as Superboy that Newton lacked — Christopher carried himself like a Superman.
Superman returned to television in 1993 with the ABC premiere of Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, which rethought the concept as a romantic comedy, with a little superheroic action sprinkled on top to keep the kids and fanboys interested. The series premiered to strong success, thanks primarily to the charisma and chemistry of its leads, Dean Cain as Clark/Superman and Teri Hatcher as Lois Lane. While the acting was appealing, the producers couldn't seem to figure out what kind of show they wanted it to be. It varied wildly from week to week, from semi-serious romance to boneheaded juvenile kids' programming. Cain made an excellent Clark Kent, and his college athlete's physique allowed him to pull off the Super-suit, but his Superman lacked a certain something. The show ran for four seasons, and only got worse, culminating in Lois and Clark's wedding being crashed by Designing Women's Delta Burke as the evil Wedding Destroyer. We'd tell you more about this, but it just makes us sad.
While Lois and Clark was stinking it up over on ABC, a far superior version of Superman was airing on the WB. Starting in 1996, Super-man: The Animated Series was produced by the same first-rate crew as the outstanding Batman animated series. The Man of Steel was voiced by Tim Daly, best known from his starring role on the sitcom Wings. Much like the series' producers, Daly seemed to take George Reeves as a model for his performance — he tended to play Clark Kent as an assertive, take-charge reporter, without even a hint of mild-mannered-ness. Daly's Superman was right on the money, combining George Reeves's toughness with Christopher Reeve's sincerity. It's a great performance, one that Daly improved over the course of the series. Dana Delaney brought both toughness and charm to her portrayal of Lois Lane, while Clancy Brown delivered a career-defining vocal performance as Lex Luthor. The series itself was overall a triumph, the best translation of Superman's entire mythology to either film or television. It gets overlooked simply because it followed the groundbreaking Batman series, but it's as much of a gem in its own right. The producers wisely buttressed Superman's weaker rogues gallery with Jack Kirby's Fourth World characters, utilizing Darkseid as a frequent opponent for Superman, and one who could really bring the menace.
In 2001, two new actors took on the role of Superman in different series. Providing vocals only was George Newbern, who would voice the Man of Steel for the next five years on Cartoon Network's Justice League and Justice League Unlimited. Newbern got a bad rap from fans of the Superman series early on, unfavorably comparing his performance to Daly's, but the blame can be more accurately placed at the feet of the producers, who had difficulties finding ways to use Superman in a team dynamic. As the series matured, Newbern brought a tougher edge to the character than even Daly had, while still retaining Daly's humanity. One standout episode is “For the Man Who Has Everything” (adapting Alan Moore's classic story), in which Newbern gets to play both the devastation of losing the home and family he's always dreamed of, and the white-hot rage of getting his hands on the evil bastard who put him through it.
Also debuting in 2001 was the WB series Smallville, starring Tom Welling as a teenage Clark Kent and Michael Rosenbaum as a young Lex Luthor and focusing on their slow, unavoidable slide from friends to enemies. Although Welling has never donned the cape and tights (and according to the series' producers, never will), he anchors the series with strength and likability. The show struggled a bit initially with the overuse of the Kryptonite plot device (“shy/angry/horny classmate of Clark's is exposed to Kryptonite and becomes invisible/pyrokinetic/vampire”), but improved dramatically in its second season, and has since settled into a successful if creatively inconsistent run. Its success has been aided by an appealing cast, including Kristin Kreuk as Lana Lang, Allison Mack as Clark's pal Chloe Sullivan and series-anchoring performances by John Schneider and Annette O'Toole as Jonathan and Martha Kent.
THE RETURN
Superman made his long-awaited return to the big screen in 2006 with Superman Returns, directed by Bryan Singer, starring Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane and Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor, and introducing Brandon Routh as this generation's Clark Kent/Superman. The film is extremely faithful to Richard Donner's vision of Superman, picking up where the first film left off — if anything, it's too worshipful of Donner's film, right down to Luthor's obsession with real estate and insistence on hiring incompetent henchmen. Although there are sequences in the film that are breathtaking (particularly when Superman halts a plummeting airliner mere inches above a Metropolis baseball stadium), Singer's insistence on trying to re-create Donner's film only highlights what Singer's film lacks: Christopher Reeve's strong, charismatic performance. Routh's performance as Kent is decent enough, although it's clear he is trying to replicate Reeve. His Superman simply lacks the approachable quality that Reeve brought to the part, instead coming across as cool and distant. Spacey's Luthor is serviceable, although played far too much for laughs, and Kate Bosworth's Lois doesn't work at all. She brings none of the charm or flintiness that Margot Kidder imbued in the character, and she simply looks far too young for the part. The other problem with the film is a thematic one: Singer's puzzling decision to introduce the character of Jason, the out-of-wedlock son of Superman and Lois Lane, supposedly born while Superman was off-planet. While the moment at the end of the film in which Superman repeats Jor-El's oath of fatherhood to his own son is a touching one, it's simply too drastic a change for many viewers to accept Superman's having a son that he refuses to raise, and it creates a serious complication for future films.
While Superman Returns is a worthy effort, we can't help but think that the character (and the actors) may have been better served with a fresher take on the material.
2 Batman
Same bat-time, same bat-channelAlthough Batman was already quite popular in comic books (and even newspaper strips for a short time in the mid-1940s), it was remarkably early in his career that he made the jump to the silver screen, in the Columbia serial Batman in 1943, just four years after his comic-book debut. You might be wondering why
you've never seen this on TV or video — it's not that it's not very good (although it's really not) — it's just a little racist. Starring Lewis Wilson as Batman and Douglas Croft as Robin, Batman pits the Dynamic Duo against the evil Dr. Daka, a stereotypical fiendish Japanese spy. Dr. Daka is played by J. Carrol Naish, a Caucasian actor in yellowface. Even though it was wartime, the film's references to “shifty-eyed Japs” are very uncomfortable today.
The 1943 Batman serial was the first source to actually give a name to the Batcave, and created some impressive-looking sets, especially for the typical low budgets provided for Saturday-morning serials. Still, the acting was rather blah, with Lewis Wilson's Batman coming across a bit snobbish and Douglas Croft delivering an absolutely hateable Robin.
Columbia tried again in 1949 with another serial, Batman and Robin, this time starring Robert Lowery as Batman and Johnny Duncan as Robin. Although this one had Batman and Robin facing off against the Wizard, a fairly standard hooded mastermind-type often found in the serials, at least it didn't have horribly racist overtones. Batman and Robin made an effort to stay closer to the source material, with appearances by the Bat-Signal and Vicki Vale, and Commissioner Gordon played by serial veteran Lyle Talbot.