You know, as a superhero myself, one of the questions I’m always asked is, “Dear Mighty Bastard, what is your opinion on all the superhero films out at the moment.’ Well, it’s simple. They’re all a bunch of namby pamby whimpering blouse wearing bed wetting tree hugging old women. If they spent more time actually superheroing and less time having personal bloody crises then they might actually have some reflection about what the real world of being a super hero is all about.
Case in point – take the X-Men for instance. Yes, I’ll agree it was nicely filmed and well acted and all that malarky, but if my Super Bastard sense deceives me (which it doesn’t, as I’m so great), there was an awful lot of ‘overcoming personal problems’ in the trilogy, and even more in the bloody First Class film. For instance, if that Magneto chap and Dr X had actually met up, they would have had simply ignored each other. ‘Why?’ I hear you ask with my otherworldly Bastard Hearing. Well, the last thing you want to do at the end of the day is hear some other bugger going on about all the super hero jobs he’s pulled. There’s an in-built trigger inside every super hero which makes them bang on endlessly about all the people they’ve saved, worlds they’ve sorted out, and villains they’re punched on the conk. I recently bumped into The Amazing Bellend the other day and made the mistake of asking him how he was. It took three hours before I could extricate myself away from his bloody self-aggandisement. The truth of the matter is we super heroes are a bunch of massive egotists, and I include myself in that. There’s nothing we like better than banging on about ourselves. Like I’m doing right now. (Note to self: remember to include a bit about how bloody great I am, how much tougher than anyone else I am, and rub in the fact that I can fly to the ‘proles’ and they can’t.)
And another point – because we’re so egotistical there would never be an occasion like in Superman Reborn where we’d hang around some totty’s window wondering if we’d created a superbaby out of our super man-fat and then moping about it for hours. Chances are we’d fly right in, give her a wink, say “Get in” and then bugger off to Venus where the women have eighteen knockers and twenty seven orifices and will do it for a space quid.
The reality is there are too many super hero films out there, and they’re all full of crap. We don’t whinge, we don’t moan, we don’t suffer from identity crises and we enjoy punching bad guys in the love blobs. The ACTUAL embodiment of what a super hero really acts like is this: Take the Flashheart character from Blackadder, give him the ability to knob bullets and fly, and there you go. And the next time you see a superhero emoting on screen remember this – I can fly and you can’t, so knob off, earthling scum.