Super (Review)

James Gunn’s Super is a repulsive little film, but therein lies much of its appeal. While the film seems destined to turn off mainstream audiences, it also has all the ingredients of a cult hit. The film is at its best when it goes for pitch black comedy, as it takes the joke of a man beating people over the head with a wrench as far as it can go. It all becomes a bit more problematic when it tries to search for genuine human emotion within the unseemliness. While the ambition is admirable, the ultimate mixture of obvious insanity, brutal violence and actual humanity is a bit too discomforting for its own good. The film would have been best if it remained an empty shell of dumb, dirty fun. While there’s still a bit to recommend here, it can end up being a little too much to stomach.

Rainn Wilson plays Frank, an employee at a local diner whose wife (Liv Tyler) leaves him for the drug-loving owner of a local strip club (Kevin Bacon). As he seeks his revenge, a godly apparition tells him that his ultimate destiny is to become a real-world superhero. After creating a costume and choosing a particularly large wrench, he becomes the Crimson Bolt. In his new getup, he spends many a night out “shutting up” crime. Each and every criminal—whether their offense is molesting children or cutting in line—is promptly greeted with a wrench to the skull. During his violent journey, he befriends a comic book aficionado played by Ellen Page. The less you know about this character going in, the better. Just know that she makes Frank look like the definition of levelheadedness.

One movie that Super can aptly be compared to—right down to the ending—is Martin Scorsese’s masterpiece Taxi Driver. Quality-wise, it isn’t on the same planet. Plot-wise, they do share several elements. Frank is more or less the second coming of Travis Bickle; a man who believes that only he can rescue an “innocent” woman from the filthy clutches of evil. No one is able to shake him of this disturbing state of mind. When his wife leaves him, it isn’t so much that Kevin Bacon is some great villain (though he certainly isn’t Mother Teresa). It’s more that she wasn’t all that interested in Frank. His wife is now a damsel in distress who has been taken away by Satan himself. In his mind, that’s all there is to it.

Super deserves a great deal of credit for never leaving Frank’s head. Scenes of Frank splitting peoples’ skulls open are treated in a very light manner, and depending on who you are this can either make you laugh or make you cringe. I did a bit more of the former than the latter. The only time it grows disturbing for me is when the film starts to sympathize with its protagonist. Frankly, he’s a man who needs to be locked up somewhere. When Super agrees with that, it’s kind of funny. The ultimate conclusion the film reaches is that Frank might have had it right all along. I’m sorry, but no.

James Gunn, the writer/director of Super, is well-known for his twisted brand of dark comedy. What separates this film from others is that it makes no effort to look even remotely appealing. The budget is almost nonexistent, the characters are unsympathetic and the violence is ugly and graphic. The final result is wholly repulsive, but the problem is that the repulsiveness can alternate between the enjoyable and the overwhelming. When it was over, it all proved to be a little much for me. Super should have fully embraced its ugliness. In the end, it tries a little too hard to excuse it.

Grade: B-

Yeah, I’m using letter grades now, as I’ve grown sick of stars. Once I grow sick of this, I will judge movies using random hieroglyphics.