Machismo and Monasticism

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Terry Smith looks at Superman II Well, we all make sacrifices.

But spare a thought poor old Superman.

The 100% all-American alien being from Krypton appears to be one great hunk of guy. His muscles bulge beneath his body stocking and blue tights-and there is even the merest hint of a bulge beneath his flashy red knickers.

But this tough guy to flatten all tough guys can't do what other red blooded American boys are told they ought to be doing-"making it" with women.

Superman's steel radial heart beats only for the love of Lois Lane-with whom he works, in his daily persona as Clark Kent, a reporter on the 'Daily Planet' (not to be confused with the American Communist Party's Daily World).

But no sooner has he revealed his real identity and lured Lois to his angular olastic igloo at the Nortr Pole than Superman run: headlong up against a problem.

For Krypton man--fifteen stone of tensile steel spring in an indestructible Hollywood casing and stainless tights-is not every girl's cup of tea.

He moves faster than the speed of light: his muscular torso crashes easily through the toughest buildings. Superman for Lois would be the all-time "Wham, Bang, Thankyou ma'am."

Worried, he consults his mother's wisdom (Superman's father in the first film was played by Marlon Brando-who demanded no less than 11% of the box office takings for a further appearance, and was replaced by the rather more economical Susannah York).

Mummy is upset. "/ hoped you'd never ask me this, son ... " she awkwardly begins.

The fact is that for Superman machismo is incompatible with human love and family life. To win Lois, Superman must renounce his superpowers and become as ordinary as any other handsome fifteen stone movie star.

On the sack Bravely, he makes the sacrifice-to be rewarded by a night on the sack with Lois. But next day things turn sour.

Travelling back they hear that the world has been taken over by three exiles from Superman's old planet Krypton-who are dressed like a cross between Hell's Angels and Cosmic Cossacks.

And-perhaps worse-the now far from super Clark Kent is punched in the mouth by a redneck in a hamburger joint.

Whatever next? He has been pushed beyond endurance. Lois is left to make her own way back to the office while Superman wanders North in search of his lost machismo.

He finds it safe and sound-a phallic-shaped green crystal-and the world is eventually saved. But for Lois and Superman there is no satisfaction to be found.

Of course it could never have worked. Imagine all those sonic booms as he rushed to do the washing up, and, as Lois points out, it would be like being married to a doctor who is always 'on call"

Meanwhile the unfortunate inhabitants of Metropolis only have to clear up the debris after the punch-up-toend all punch-ups between Superman and the evil aliens from Krypton. For them life is remarkably simple.

Clark Kent however must grapple in a different way with the contradictions of life on earth.

The final titles of this breathtakingly well-filmed but grimly cautionary tale declare to the audience: Coming soon: Superman I|/ The films and the profits will keep coming-but there is no such luck for Superman!

And there will be no little Superboys or Supergirls to fill his lonely evenings at the igloo!

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While we would not agree with every opinion expressed in this letter we reprint it here as an authoritative source of information on the moves by the WRP to unseat Lambeth Trades Council President and victimised (by the union) NUT memThursday April ber Vanessa Wiseman. LETTER