Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer vs Batman

In the modern era of movies adapted from comic books, we learned early on that the more serious takes were better. The darker, more tortured heroes have integrity, and any light-hearted, humorous or colorful interpretations are a sign of disrespect.

And in a lot of ways, that’s true. As the Batman series went on, it obtained more and more flimsy characters, and more neon-accessorized costumes and weapons that seemed only there to sell action figures. And each one was a little worse than the one that came before it.

So when Fantastic Four came out a couple years ago, all primary colors and shitty acting, I was roundly disgusted. I couldn’t wrap my brain around why they would aim so low. The jokes were mid-season-replacement sitcom at best. The costumes looked uncomfortable, the hair fake, the make-up…make-uppy. None of the casting or performances impressed me, and the overall plot was way too confusing for something so intentionally simplistic. But it was rated PG, so I brushed it off as meant for kids who wouldn’t be able to handle it being good and smart.

But wait, the initial three Star Wars films were rated PG. So were the first two Superman movies. And Raiders of a Lost Ark. And Goonies. And The Incredibles. And other comic book movies, like Spider-man and X2 came out and married darker themes with comedic moments in ways that bored or offended practically nobody. So Fantastic Four had no excuse, in my book. It was just bad.

The second one recycles everything that was bad about the first, unfortunately. Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer has cheesy jokes, barely serviceable special effects, no plot whatsoever, and a title that lies. And yet there was a small attempt to add a little heft to the script and visuals this time, which has not gone unnoticed.

As we rejoin our light-hearted, sitcommy foursome, things have progressed a little since the last movie. Reed Richards and Sue Storm are getting married, amid a flurry of Access Hollywood-style hype. Johnny is a more eager media superstar, wearing endorsements on his uniform like a Nascar driver (or Greg Kinnear’s character in Mystery Men, but whatever). Ben Grimm is still dating Alicia Masters, and both are still played with the idea of giving the most embarrassing roles to the most talented actors. They only use their powers comedically for the first half hour or so (Reed has an excrutiating moment on a dance floor, his arms C-G-ing clumsily around the room, not once looking like anything resembling arms. Or dancing.) Jessica Alba is back as the Invisible Woman, and I wished she’d have used her powers more, if only to save us from having to look at her awkward, heavy-handed hair and make-up job. I haven’t seen an actor this artificially made up since Jude Law in A.I. and that dude played a robot. Alba’s got alabaster skin, contacts the color of a Pepsi can, more eye-shadow than the cast of Knot’s Landing, and a cheap blonde wig straight out of White Girls.

Finally, there is a crisis. A being—a silver streak of light in space—travels to distant planets, heralding their pending deaths. The military wants Reed to design some sort of satellite that will tell them when this being is nearing Earth (why they can see it across the galaxy but not as it nears Earth is not for us to ask), and even though he’s getting married that week, he agrees.

It’s the Silver Surfer, of course. We don’t see his rise to the position he holds currently, and we don’t see him become anything else later. Silver Surfer’s job, as we know from the comics, is to scout planets heavy on life for his master, Galactus, to devour. Silver Surfer’s job, as we get from the movie, is…kind of like that. It’s all a little muddy. The screenplay makes sure we don’t fear Silver Surfer too much, or view him as a villain, but other than having powers that do whatever the plot requires at any given moment (kill things, bring things to life), he’s mainly there to look cool. And since not one single thing looked cool in the first movie, and very little else looks cool here, I’ll take what I can get. The Silver Surfer looks very, very cool.

The Silver Surfer was probably on the short list of heroes I thought I’d never see in a movie. I figured his story was too stilted and rooted in the cosmos, and that if they ever got his physical appearance correct, he’d still look too much like the liquid metal Terminator from T2. His story, by the way, is too stilted and rooted in the cosmos, but physically, this is the Silver Surfer, come to life straight from the comic page. He’s embodied by Doug Jones, voiced by Laurence Fishburne (I wonder if Doug Jones has an unsuitable speaking voice? Maybe he’s illiterate?), and buffed to a shimmering chrome glow by a squad of computer-effects experts. During a powered-down sequence, the Silver Surfer becomes darker, less polished looking, and the effect is even more impressive than when he’s animated.

And then he’s gone. Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer is a short movie, aimed right between the best super-hero cartoon, and, let’s say…the third best super-hero cartoon. It’s a shame the plot and action that kick up near the end don’t start, say, in the middle. The movie sets everything up, then really gets it going, and then a timer went off or something, and they capped a joke on the end and sent it on its way, like the longest trailer in movie history. It’s not bad, necessarily, nor is it just for kids, necessarily. But wouldn’t you like a little something more?

Let’s go back where we started, shall we? Batman, Tim Burton’s 1989 line in the sand. See, when Burton made his version of Batman, he didn’t just put a new spin on the way the characters had been presented (at least live-action. The Batman family had been dark in comics for a while at that point), he put a new spin on the way fantasy movies and their characters were presented, period (Dark City anyone? Harry Potter? The Crow? All are hard to fathom in their finished form without Batman). Gotham City is simultaneously an obvious movie set, and intimidating and frightening city, and a living character in the movie. We don’t necessarily believe that people live there, but we do believe that this is what you might get if you were to live in a comic book. Likewise, the Joker doesn’t look like anyone burned by toxic waste, but he looks like someone burned by toxic waste…in a comic book. How cool is that?

And Batman doesn’t just feature actors standing in as costume models. Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson and Jack Palance all give performances equal to some of their best work, and there’s an imaginative streak in Burton’s cameo casting that is inspired. Jerry Hall made zero impact in movies before or since Batman, but she rocks her scenes with Nicholson, and cuts as sleek a figure on camera as the Batmobile (which, by the way, has the Fantasticar beat, even without a sponsor).

I love this movie. I always have. Batman is practically ageless, thanks to a production design that mixed old technology with new, fantasy architecture with castles and skyscrapers. From the moment Batman came out, it looked both old and new, so as it gets older, instead of being quaint or retro or old-fashioned, it just sort of looks like itself. What does Fantastic Four look like, other than a brightly-lit commercial for a movie that never really happens?

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer: C-
Batman: A