The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youth” - SUBDIVISIONS, Rush
We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool, we are free
And we're running with blood on our knees” - KICK-ASS, MIKA & RedOne
Cards on the table, I think some of my best writing within the realms of film criticism comes from springboarding off of what I see and hear on a daily basis. Such is the case with this editorial which came from seeing Patrick Willems’ recent treatise on his disdain for the perceived wide breadth of adult-oriented superhero material. I’ll put the link to it here because it sets a decent context and makes a couple worthwhile points near the end; but, most of it is the same tired hyperbolic crap that gets dragged out whenever the usual gadflies decide to comment on this particular subject.
“It’s just overviolent edgelord nonsense made for teenage boys”, “These characters started out for younger audiences”, the petulant and outlandish villainization of Zack Snyder, etc. You’ve heard these beats a million times over, so I’m not going to waste your time by complaining about them. Besides, I wanted to use this bout of cynicism as a vehicle to expressing joy and offering a more productive counterargument. I’m here to talk about what I hold as not only my favorite superhero flick, but the reason I keep wanting more variety out of this genre: Matthew Vaughn’s Kick-Ass.
So, the story proper begins a decade ago. I was about ten years old, teeming with excitement and anticipation for what was more or less my first venture into a comic book store of any kind. I had yet to figure out the minute intricacies of how everything was laid out and what titles I should be on the lookout for. Of course, my first instinct was to wander around and go at my own pace.
Pick up whatever speaks to me and just figure it out from there. More to the point, one of the titles that immediately caught my eye was Mark Millar and John Romita JR.’s KICK-ASS. A slick hardcover with it’s provocative title in bold yellow lettering. Hard to lose in a crowd of other titles competing for your attention. Before I could even get past the first pages, my dad smacked the hardcover out of my hand and pushed me to pick something out already. So, we ended up walking out with a couple back issues of Iron Man from ‘87 or so and that was that. But, I was more determined than ever to figure out what was in that graphic novel that got him so worked up. Naturally, I waited another couple years and started with the movie it spawned not long after its initial publication.
Still just as electrifying today as it was in 2010, Kick-Ass centers around high school nobody Dave Lizewski deciding to finally become a real-life superhero and the complications that arise from it. Oh yeah and it has Nicolas Cage as the most politely hyper-violent Batman ever in all but name. Think Ben Affleck’s dark knight if he spoke with the calm, dryly observant demeanor of Adam West. It’s bloody as hell, pyrotechnically profane, exhilarating and screamingly funny...so, why use a film that seemingly embodies the exact qualities Willems and his contemporaries find everso frustrating to prove my point?
The answer is simple.
Until Into The Spider-Verse made waves a couple years ago, I’d say this was the only mainstream superhero movie that tapped into why this archetype dominates the popular imagination in the here and now. For all the nastiness that comes with its dive into R-rated waters, there’s two basic narrative ticks that imbue the film with a raw, beating heart as it continues to beat everything else utterly senseless. For starters, it completely and fundamentally gets how being a teenager sucks. Most importantly, it does so in a way that doesn’t feel facile or contemptful of its adolescent characters.
Capturing that strange limbo before you turn 18, graduate high school and start to move on with your life. An early rock bottom where total aimlessness is the order of the day. No clue who or what you want out of your circle of friends (or hell even out of yourself), that dawning dread of a day-to-day monotony that seems like it will inevitably extend forever onward into adulthood and a gut feeling that there may be no hope of true escape from whatever corner of the universe they inhabit (urban, suburban or otherwise).
Said aimlessness carries over to why Dave dons the pathetic combo of scuba gear and electrical tape he calls a costume in the first place. He doesn’t do it as some predestined calling or to protect the public good. If anything, the only even remotely protective instinct that leads to his decision is wanting to feel just a small bit of power over the muggers that hassle him and his friends on a constant basis...who still end up knocking him on his ass and leave him for dead even when he suits up.
Reality only intrudes on his heroics further and further as the movie speeds along. Not to the degree of the original comics where those devolve into straight-up cruelty; but, enough to give the bloodshed purpose and real weight. Like a lot of misguided forays into the so-called real world, it’s lessons are quite painful and can often feel overwhelming. He’s repeatedly established to be way out of his depth, whether it’s lack of practical crime-fighting skills (i.e. simply being able to hold his own ground in a fight) compared to Big Daddy and Hit-Girl or feeling inferior next to the slicker, more professional image of his treacherous cohort Red Mist. And yet, he’s still able to look at himself in the mirror. Black eyes staring from behind a blood-stained mask as if to ask himself and the world holding him at gunpoint: “is that the best you can do?”.
All of which leads me to the second point: it violently tears that wish-fulfillment fantasy down in order to rebuild and re-establish it not only as valid but also kind of necessary in a sense*. Could or should superheroes be real? Probably not. As over-the-top as the climax gets (two words: jetpack minigun), there’s no mistaking that our protagonist is only surviving by the skin of his teeth which makes it all the more satisfying when he returns the favor for his infinitely more confident companion. He remains hopeful though and it’s clear that the images of superheroes are still a cathartic escapism.
It’s a picture that never stops moving even when it slows down. Some of which can be attributed to the soundtrack. A healthy, eclectic mix of vintage deep cuts and passionately anthemic contemporary pop/punk. The film’s central ethos literally embodied in the title track’s chorus, as quoted at the beginning of this op-ed.**
Granted, none of this is to say Kick-Ass is some sort of deep intellectual exercise. God no. Of the two R-rated superhero movies that made me want to make movies in the first place, Watchmen is still the one that I can defend more honestly on an analytical level. If you need further convincing, just repeat the title to yourself and let it sink in from there. It’s a comic book action flick with an abrasive sense of humor and a palpable pulse when the bloodletting kicks in. Is the violence grotesque and indulgent? You bet your bottom dollar it is! But, that’s the fun of it! It’s what makes it feel all the more alive and kinetic.
Plus, the fact that there are real characters worth giving a damn about at the center with tangible, resonant connections to recognizable personal experiences just boosts the rush all the further. None of which is possible when we limit these movies to nothing more than pseudo-optimistic PG-13 spectacle made to justify fifteen more movies and sell Funko POPs to wide-eyed children or thirtysomethings that still wished they were wide-eyed children.
* I should also note that James Mangold did this on a broader, more metatextual level with Logan back in 2017.
**Incidentally, I’d also say this (among other things) is what got me to lower my defenses as a somewhat basic classic rock snob and give stuff from my own generation a fair shake.
