A younger man once asked me why I dislike superhero movies. I immediately replied: Because they’re not about sex and death. What I meant was: superhero movies can’t deal with eros and Thanatos, the two main drivers of mortal existence. The super guys are largely immune to destruction. The super girls are just as invulnerable, so they don’t need the sort of care and protection women need in real life. Plus no one can ever get out of those tight suits so issues like desire, pregnancy, adultery, and temptation never arise.
As a result, the only moral dilemmas in these stories are philosophical; abstract. Should Superman save the universe even if it means an innocent person dies? Should he turn back time even though it’s forbidden? These are the sort of questions 10-year-old boys pass back and forth in the dark during sleepovers. I have nothing against the occasional fantasy. But there comes a time when you should be asking yourself real questions about real dilemmas, and watching and reading stories about situations that might actually arise.
Still, this doesn’t mean that stories can’t have heroes in them and big adventures and even outlandish plots. One of the reasons I love Shakespeare so much is because his characters talk about the deepest matters, but they do it in the midst of sword fights and murders and while climbing up balconies to get their hands on the girl they love. That’s the sort of thing I love to read. That’s the sort of story that made me want to write.