Batman Vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) was that incredible thing: a blockbuster nobody liked. Critics torched it, most viewers seemed to despise it, yet it still made enough money to fund UNICEF for a decade. Far better writers have already dissected this dung heap to death, so expect less cogent analysis than howls of agony.Batman Vs. Superman is nominally a sequel to Zack Snyder's Man of Steel (2013). Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) blames Superman (Henry Cavill) for destroying Metropolis because he's an imbecile. Batman goes on the warpath, while Superman investigates Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg), a billionaire selling weapons technology to terrorists. It's only a matter of time before these superheroes rumble, before uniting against Luthor.
Of all the directors to helm Batman vs. Superman, why Zack Snyder? Snyder, the purveyor of fetishized fascism that would make Leni Riefenstahl blush? We've already had 300, two hours of cut Caucasians slicing up hordes of Asian goatmen and piercing fetishists. And Watchmen, which literalizes Alan Moore's graphic novel into a deadening bore. As crowning insult, Man of Steel gave us Superman as Objectivist, letting tornado kill his dad because helping others isn't worth it. That this mirthless hack holds the reins to Hollywood's second-biggest franchise speaks volumes to its creative bankruptcy.
Unsurprisingly, Batman vs. Superman is two-and-a-half hours of pain. Shot in lusterless style, with action scenes more CGI-heavy than a Pixar cartoon, its only innovation is its utter worthlessness. The movie's plot relies almost exclusively on Lois Lane (Amy Adams) uncovering Lex Luthor's complicity, while the movie's heroes circle each other until the plot brings them together. Every car chase, fistfight and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) appearance just kills time until our superheroes finally clash. Even that proves anticlimactic; after a few minutes of shoving, they discover their moms share the same name, making friends for life.
In its scenes, Batman vs. Superman is simply dull; its strained dialog and Nietzschean imagery (Superman's treatment as a literal God), merely insipid. The characters are the breaking point, mopey losers more deserving of contempt than awe or sympathy. Superman agonizes over his godlike stature, while Batman becomes an armored vigilante who marks his victims with red-hot brands. The actor's sterile performances deaden them even further. Never has a movie featured less appealing excuses for superheroes, and I'm including Batman and Robin and Fantastic Four.But our heroes are positively charming next to Jesse Eisenberg's Lex Luthor. Mating Heath Ledger's Joker with Eisenberg's Social Network performance, this Luthor is less character than collection of tics and annoyances. Whether blathering incoherently about Man's duality, force-feeding Jolly Ranchers to incredulous Congressmen or bombing buildings with jars of urine, Eisenberg never ceases to irritate. He's less criminal mastermind than rambling speed freak; for all his Machiavellian prowess, we're not convinced he could toast a Pop Tart without blowing up his house.
If nothing else, watching our heroes pound this raving pillock into dust might partially redeem Batman Vs. Superman. Instead, Lex rigs a fight between our heroes, before forcing them to fight an indestructible Space Orc made from General Zod's blood and water. This deus ex behemoth comes from nowhere and results in an action scene as boring as it is endless. It ends with a twist that might have worked if half the superhero movies of the past decade haven't used it.
The worst thing about Batman Vs. Superman is that it mademoney. The movie teases us with contrived cameos from assorted DC films to come, promising another decade or so of lifeless, overwrought blockbusters from filmmakers whose idea of joy involves shooting a long-running Superman sidekick in the head. I can't wait to watch Aquaman disembowel manatees while crying about his alcoholic stepdad.
