India Doyle: Superhero Religion

I’ve been thinking about superheroes. The concept was brought back to me when I sat through an hour of adverts at the cinema a couple of weeks ago. There I was, anxiously shielding my popcorn from my neighbour’s unpredictable elbow, when the advert for MAN OF STEEL came on. For those of you that cannot deduce what the film is about, this is the title of the newest Superman superhero film. (I know, the marketing team really pushed the boat out on their innovative branding this time around – perhaps there is hope for us all).

I can’t remember the exact content of the advert because I was far too excited to see Anne Hathaway give her Oscar-winning performance in Les Mis, the film I had come to the cinema to see. However, half an hour into the film, Anne Hathaway was dead. Unable to endure Russell Crowe’s miserable prancing up and down a rooftop, I began to think about the concept of superheroes.

We keep coming back to them. Every six months, we (not ‘we’ literally, obviously the students of St Andrews are too busy working) flock to see another instalment about extraordinary individuals saving the world and giving us all hope. These films have ridiculous budgets and consistently attract bigger audiences than most of their competitors, even though each time we know the general plot and can anticipate the conclusion. These films, though unrealistic to the point of comedy and arguably very childish, provide us with something that we crave.

Though the obvious answer to the question ‘why do we keep watching these films?’ has to do with escapism, I do think there is something particularly poignant about the myth of superheroes to which we ascribe. Romantic comedies may pander to the idea of perfect love, but superhero films play on the idea of possibility and potential of greatness that is inherent in all of us. They also play on the idea of God.

I can only push this argument so far before it becomes absurd, but I’m going to do it anyway: In an increasingly secular age, Superheroes allow us to believe – for a few hours at least – in something bigger than ourselves. Our continual attendance at the cinema suggests a desire to feel and engage with a force that might be able to save us. I know that Spiderman is mortal, but the fact that we never see the heroes die allows us to subscribe and invest in the actions of a God-like being. I suppose you could say that superhero films are a bit like a new religion – cinemas as places of worship, directors as religious leaders and teachers, and each audience member as a loyal disciple.

As I said, I can only push the argument so far. So I will leave it to hover – like superman – somewhere in the periphery of the consciousness.  

Just one last thing: it’s snowing. You never know, Thor could be in town.