Donner, Lester, Furie/USA/1978-87; R4 (4-disc boxset)
Warner Bros, NZ$59.95 | Reviewed by Shahir Daud

I’LL BE the first to admit, I cried when Christopher Reeve died. While he was magnificent in James Ivory’s The Remains of the Day, and hysterically funny in Peter Bogdanovich’s Noises Off, no man would ever look as cool wearing blue tights and red underwear (trust me, I tried).

So when I got my hands on Warner Bros’ The Complete Superman Collection box set (to win a copy, see details at the foot of this review), I paused for a moment to contemplate that stoic all-American pose on the front of each cover. I have to admit, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown to loath Superman more. He’s the ultimate goody-two-shoes, the poster boy for the superhero Ubermensch. A fascist power player whose boundaries between good and evil are so absolute and infallible, that the term pluralism wouldn’t register, even with his super hearing. But he’s a hero from a different time, one whose dangerously fundamentalist beliefs obviously served a purpose.

The release of the box set pre-empts with the imminent release of Bryan Singer’s Superman Returns, due out next year. It also fares well along side Warner’s recent release of the other DC best seller Batman Begins. Combined, the pair represent the extreme light and dark of the DC universe, Superman, the quintessential good guy, fighting for truth, justice and the American way, while Batman, the tortured vigilante fights to bring justice to a corrupt world.

And despite my hesitations about Superman’s ideals, the moment I heard the first movement of John William’s terrific score, my legs got a little shaky. Richard Donner’s origin tale still gives me child like moments of glee despite the camp and silliness of it all. When Christopher Reeve finally rips open his shirt to reveal that iconic yellow and red insignia, its hard not to get goose bumps.

Paying serious attention to his back story, Donner waits to unveil the man in tights for as long as possible, before digging into a fairly conventional superhero versus arch nemesis (Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor) plot. The ending is of course, laughably bad, but imagine if you will, a 1978 audience who hadn’t the benefit of Robert Zemeckis’ Back To The Future, or James Cameron’s The Terminator and who, with a stretch of the imagination and a major suspension of disbelief, truly believed that a man could not only fly, but turn back time, by flying really, really, really fast.


AH, THE SEVENTIES was such a different time. The most significant feat of the Superman series was the complex optical effects used to create the illusion of flight. Remembering that the entire series predates significant digital effects, the fact that Superman’s flying is so convincing is a testament to the special effects team’s ingenious optical trickery.

While this disc is the only with any significant extra features (Superman II, III and IV only contain trailers), there’s enough historical tidbits and fun facts to pour over. Highlights include the hysterical alternative actors for Superman (the producer’s wife’s dentist auditioned) and the initial flying tests, which include, a dummy propelled into the air, a battery operated model airplane with a cape, and some intriguing animation tests. Donner and his crew eventually settled on a mixture of rear projection and matte paintings mixed in with early blue screen systems, which even in today’s digital CGI-fests, still fare pretty well.

It would be reasonable to assume that the special effects (and even the stories) would have improved over the years, but despite its best efforts Superman II, never rises to the heights of its predecessor. Of course, its rocky production history may have contributed (the film was shot simultaneously with the first, then re-shot by Richard Lester after Richard Donner was fired off the set). The concept of escaped Kryptonians wrecking havoc on earth is deliciously open for possibilities, and is somewhat realized in the terrifically staged show down in New York. But once again the conclusion is so daft and hammy that you have to wonder if screenwriting was a new art form at the time. II should also be noted for the intriguing portrayal of General Zod by Terrance Stamp, who gives the singularly minded super villain a strange kind of dignity, and is shamefully underused in the film.

But the clear gem in the series is Superman III. Say what you will about the suspicious marketing tactic of casting comedian du jour Richard Pryor, Superman III stands up because of the incredible psych out battle between Clark Kent and Superman in a junk yard. It’s a daring proposition to have the central character engage in an internal battle of wills (a la Bruce Banner vs The Hulk), but Lester’s film still manages to get away with it. Best of all, Superman has sex with a curvy bimbo who goads him into destroying an oil tanker. How cool is that?

While I will testify to the goodness that oozes from Christopher Reeve’s every being while adorned in the red cape, he really should have stuck to acting. Sharing a story credit on Superman IV wouldn’t be the highlight of anyone’s career. Still, you have to admire the genuine intent of it all. IV delves into the tenuous subject of nuclear disarmament, and tops it off with the creation of a new super villain: Nuclear Man (who is solar powered and ‘switches off’ when there’s no sun around!). Rife with unintentional comedy, IV is a fairly disastrous finale to a promising series.

Despite the mediocrity of the films (I and III being my exceptions), there’s something ethereal about the Superman ideals, that manage to transcend any of my normal standards. Sure, he’s nowhere near as cool as Batman, but he’s also got less angst, fewer frustrations and is far more comfortable about the fact that he wears his underwear over his pants.