Superman (serial; Bennet 1948)

When I say that the 1948 Superman serial is disappointing, I don’t wish to give the impression that it is a bad piece of filmmaking. Far from it: while suffering from the same ultra low budgets as the two previously reviewed Batman serials, Superman is a far more ambitious effort, with more consistent writing, acting and production values. Or rather, in the case of the production values, consistent in their inconsistency. As a piece of the Man of Steel’s history, the serial is invaluable, given that it is the first ever live action adaptation of the character, and is only the third such adaptation following the radio series and Fleischer Studio animated shorts. And its faithfulness to the source material is astounding given the history of Hollywood to alter comic character source materials at random.

Yet, the disappointment remains, and the reason is a problem which has plagued Superman in all media, particularly in the early adaptations of the character: after the origin, the film doesn’t really know where to go with the character. How does one challenge Superman? Either the Man of Steel needs to go up against someone with immense power, skill and/or intellect in order to give him a proper threat, and/or Kal-El must go up against a moral/ethical challenge that he cannot merely punch his way out of. Sam Katzman’s Superman is no better at solving this issue than other adaptations, which is a shame, as the film begins on a promising note.

The first third of the serial covers the origins of the character and introduces many of the main elements of the Superman mythology, including Lois (Noel Neill), Jimmy (Tommy Bond), the Daily Planet, and Kryptonite. This section of the serial flies by at a breakneck pace to get the main story of the battle for the relativity reducer ray, with the planet Krypton and early life on the Kent farm being condensed into roughly twenty minutes of screen time. While this pacing does lead to many forced moments where characters make declarations of intent, while key events happen off screen (Ma and Pa Kent’s deaths are particularly brushed aside), this early portion of the serial is fairly exciting and involving, as we see how many of the iconic moments of the character’s story were in place this early on. Of particular note is the Krypton section of the story, and the handling of Superman’s father Jor-El. Nelson Leigh plays the role with real sense of weight that was an unexpected delight, as he verbally spars with the doubting council of Krypton’s elders about the fate of the planet. Yes, the destruction of the planet is mostly stock footage, but everything leading up to that point is given more attention and care than I expected. Certainly, the Krypton section of chapter one fares better than the Smallville section as far as writing and acting goes.

The problem with the fast pace however is that the serial ultimately runs out of material long before the finishing line of the fifteenth chapter. The Reducer Ray story is sound enough, with the idea of Superman needing to protect the ray from the clutches of the Spider Lady (Carol Foreman) making for a solid, if generic, through line, and the Spider Lady’s introduction offers promise of her being a slightly toned down femme fatale. Sadly, the narrative goes nowhere quickly, as the Spider Lady turns out to be little more than a stock villain shouting orders over the radio at her suit wearing thugs. The film isn’t helped by Foreman’s acting, who turns the Spider Lady into less of a master criminal than a pouting teenager. Thus the film is left with Superman fighting stock thugs for the rest of the film, and after opening up with the destruction of a planet, it is a bit of a let down.

The end result is that the film falls into a pattern that repeats endlessly with slight variation: Lois gets in trouble, Superman saves her; Jimmy gets in trouble, Kal-El saves him; Lois AND Jimmy get in trouble, and then Clark needs to save them. In between, the thugs attempt to either get the Reducer Ray, the secrets of the Reducer Ray, or a part of the Reducer Ray, and Superman stops them. Were the hero of the tale a little more vulnerable, it could have been a little more exciting, but its Superman, and placing him up against a bunch of thugs just doesn’t amp up the excitement level enough. Even nifty pulp ideas such as the villains creating a rocket launching device filled with Kryptonite is tossed away as the earliest convenient opportunity.

This doesn’t mean the serial is awful, just duller than a serial featuring Superman should be. There is fun to be had though, and plenty to interest fans of the character. For starters, Kirk Alyn deserves every bit of praise he has received for his performance in the title role. He plays Superman straight and with a sense of childlike joy, like he is playing a massive joke on the world and having a ball being the only one in on it. Noel Neill is a good counterpoint to Allen’s Superman, though all too often the writing makes her the butt of a number of sexist jokes typical of the period. Furthermore, Lois spends most of her time being rescued by the Man of Steel, thus denying Neill the chance to make Lois into a fully crafted character. Tommy Bond is ok as Jimmy, with a good comic rapport with Neill and Allen, though again, he is not given enough material to make his character all that distinctive. The trio of actors manage to carry the serial through its repetitive instalments and make the events fun, but by the end I wished they had more material to work with.

For all its faults, it is hard to hold them against Superman at the end of the day, given that many are typical of for serials in general and for the character of Superman regardless of the medium his story is being told in. It is just hard to make the film an honest recommendation when better versions of the character are available to watch. For hard core fan, Superman is a must see serial, though for all others, the serial only comes with a mild recommendation.

Batman (serial; Hillyer 1943)

(My review of Inception will be up by Friday of this week)

In my review of Batman and Robin, the 1949 serial from Sam Katzman, I noted that one of the key reasons the serial works despite the clear and abundant flaws is due to the innocence of the whole effort. It set out to tell a Batman and Robin adventure, and low budget (and narrative logic) be damned, it did it with enthusiasm.

I cannot, however, give the same good will towards the first ever live action Batman film, the 1943 serial Batman, produced by Columbia pictures and directed by Lambert Hillyer. While the film comes out of the same low budget roots as the latter film, Batman is not a simple adventure serial, but rather a piece of war time propaganda designed to drum up anti-Japanese sentiment. The film is thus full of racist caricatures and slurs, with an extremely jingoistic attitude permeating every frame of the film. While the context out of which the film was produced may make these elements understandable, it doesn’t make them any less uncomfortable in the context of a boy’s adventure serial. And even if one is able to watch with the understanding of why the film is what it is, it doesn’t change the fact that the serial isn’t really all that good.
In Batman, Batman and Robin (Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft) are secret crime fighters who work for the United States government. In Gotham City, a Japanese spy and master criminal, Prince Tito Daka (J. Carrol Naish) operates, taking control of the criminal underworld and seeks to sabotage the United States war effort. It is up to Batman and Robin to stop Daka, but can they do so when Daka possesses a league of zombies at his command (old style zombies, not the Romero flesh eaters) and a deadly radiation gun?
As an adaptation of the Batman character, the 1943 serial is an abysmal failure. Since his first appearance in 1939, Batman has always been an aggressively individualistic character, working for the law by working outside it, and on his own terms. While the comics of the 1950s and the 1960s television adaptation tried to mitigate this element of the character, it has never been able to be fully purged, and it is one of the most appealing elements of the character. He is totally uncompromising in his fight against crime, but it is a personal war, not one beholden to any specific country or ideology. In transforming Batman into a government agent, that individualism is lost, as his quest is subsumed into the larger war effort.
The film however cannot even get the concept of a ideologically driven Batman right. Lewis’ Batman is less of a crime fighter and more of an overgrown man-child looking for excitement. There is no sense of commitment or drive to his Batman: he instead opens up his assignments from Washington like a kid opening a Christmas gift, and more often than not seems to have no interest in the people he is supposedly trying to help. In fact, Lewis’ Batman is a mean spirited individual, viciously pulling pranks on his Alfred and treating his supposed romantic interest Linda (Shirley Patterson) with outright contempt and negligence. If this were a persona to throw people off from figuring out that he is Batman it would have been one thing, but here, this is simply who Batman is. At least Croft’s Robin is likeable enough to balance out Wilson’s failings as our “hero.”
These problems with our hero go beyond Wilson’s performance however, as the filmmakers set about making Batman the saddest superhero committed to film. Batman is repeatedly beaten by the criminals he is after, and more often than not, it is either Robin and/or Alfred who are bailing him out of trouble. The final chapter of the serial actually involves Batman being sidelined until Robin rescues him and subdues the villain. While I am all for a fallible hero, in making Batman this inept, there is no sense as to why anyone should be interested in following his adventures.
Then, there is the racism. Now, while it is certainly true that the film is a product of its time, this in no way forgives the vitriol in which the film engages with such attitudes. The whole film seems to seethe in an open desire to attack the Japanese at any given moment, and there is rarely a moment in the film that goes by without some form of anti-Japanese sentiment raising its head. Some of it is so absurd that it could almost be laughed off, such as a scene in which an American criminal gives a bafflingly patriotic speech, but then the film heads down much more serious territory, including an unsettling moment when Batman himself starts using racial slurs against Daka. Perhaps no moment sets the venomous tone of the film more than an early scene in which the narrator points out the “wisdom” of the interment camps which Japanese Americans were placed into during the war. The moment lays bare the film’s intent, and it is hard to try and see the film as anything more than a historical artifact of war time propaganda afterwards.
There are aspects of the serial however that are worthy of mention. While he plays the role for laughs, William Austin’s Alfred is actually one of the few parts of the film that works, even though he is victimized by those he serves. Placed in various disguises and situations he shouldn’t be in, Alfred does manage to get a few real laughs throughout the film. And the opening theme sets the mood perfectly, and as it plays over the Columbia logo, it feels reminiscent of the Danny Elfman Spider-man theme. Unfortunately, nothing in the serial lives up to the expectations set up by the music.
When it comes down to it, Batman is of little note: As an artifact of World War II era filmmaking, it is only one among many example;. serious film serial fans will likely find it forgettable and a poor representation for the format. As for diehard Batman fans, the film is a must watch, but only from the perspective of the character's evolution into a cultural icon.

Batman and Robin (Serial: Bennet 1949)

Given my love of serialized fiction, classic cinema, and B movies, it is odd that I have never watched a film serial from start to finish before now. I have seen selected episodes from some serials, including the classic Flash Gordon from 1936, and I am familiar with the overall structure and production style of these efforts, but I have never gone out of my way to watch one. Luckily, I can wipe that off my list of cinema fan failings, having now watched the 1949 Columbia Pictures serial Batman and Robin, from producer Sam Katzman and director Spencer Bennet.
From what I have been able to find online, starting with a Sam Katzman serial might not be considered ideal for diving into the history of serials. Katzman’s productions appear to have a reputation for being cheap, quickly produced works, a far cry from the earlier noted Flash Gordon serials which were expensive productions, by serial standards. And indeed, the cheapness does show on screen in Batman and Robin, from the poorly designed Batman cowl, to the low budget animation which appears from time to time, and the fact that the Batmobile is a simple 1949 Mercury. Worse, the writing is often lacking, leaving the film full of plot holes and lapses in logic, problems which are exacerbated by shoddy production values and direction.

Yet, I despite these clear and abundant flaws, Batman and Robin remains an oddly fascinating and entertaining experience, particularly when considered within the context of Batman’s later cinematic adventures. Batman and Robin manages to be remarkably faithful to its comic book source material, and despite the lapses in logic, the presence of an odd super villian, and beyond questionable science, the serial actually manages to take itself seriously enough to be a legitimate and noteworthy adaptation of the character. At the very least, it is better than the other Batman and Robin (Schumacher 1997).

In Batman and Robin, the dynamic duo (Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan) are caught in a battle with a mysterious foe known as “the Wizard,” who has stolen a remote control device that is capable of controlling automobiles, trains and planes. As Batman and Robin attempt to solve the mystery of who the Wizard is and retrieve the device, they must also contend with photojournalist Vicki Vale (Jane Adams), Bruce Wayne’s romantic partner, as she comes closer to figuring out just who Batman and Robin really are.
Given the format and era in which the serial was produced, it should be no surprise that Batman and Robin is bereft of the characterization and the psychological depth of both Tim Burton and Christopher Nolan’s live action Batman films: the point is to get on with the adventure, not spend time studying Batman’s psychology. Having said that, Batman and Robin does ask that the viewer invest in the adventure taking place, rather than playing the concept and adventure for deliberate laughs, unlike other adaptations. Batman and Robin here are heroic and hardworking figures in this film, planning stakeouts, searching for clues, and engaging in fisticuffs with low level thugs. Moreover, they are far from the demigod Batman and Robin written by Grant Morrison, with this Batman and Robin being more than capable of making mistakes and being injured. The logic of the adventure/mystery itself might not always make sense, but the effort to ground the film in some semblance of reality is appreciated.

As the title characters, Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan make for a solid, if unremarkable, set of leading men. Lowery struggles somewhat as Batman, working hard to overcome the costume which doesn’t make his Batman the most formidable looking of heroes. However, Lowery is more comfortable in the Bruce Wayne persona, which actually is one of the film’s more memorable achievements. Like the comics, the public Bruce Wayne is used to deflect people from connecting Wayne to Batman. However, unlike the pompous playboy or recent films and comics, Wayne here is played as a boring, lazy and borderline narcoleptic individual, which oddly enough does make sense. After fighting a long battle against crime each day, why wouldn’t Bruce be tired, and use that to his advantage? Duncan is given less to work with, but his youthful enthusiasm makes him a memorable balance to Lowery’s calm, collected Batman.
More surprising than either of the title characters though is the portrayal of Vicki Vale. While technically Bruce Wayne’s love interest, Vale spends more time as a take charge journalist who doesn’t simply wait around for Batman to rescue her (even though she is rescued at a few points). Yes, this type of characterization was developed long before by the likes of actress Katherine Hepburn, but to see it featured so prominently in a boy’s adventure serial is still quite shocking. Some of the writing remains questionable surrounding the character, such as why she is interested in Bruce Wayne when all Bruce does is act like a self centered, boring jerk, but Jane Adams brings enough life to the character that even the most questionable of scenes are usually sold by her energy and spunk.

I don’t want to give the impression that I am ignoring the serial’s various flaws however. For starters, the central threat of the remote control device makes little sense: how is it that devices that are, by all accounts, not operated by remote able to be remote controlled? Or why doesn’t Batman, Robin or Commissioner Gordon (Lyle Talbot) actually investigate radio personality Brown if they wonder where he is getting his information from? Problems such as these of course have a simple answer in that the plot requires the padding to stretch the story out, but it is hardly an excuse. Other problems have less clear answers, such as why Bruce Wayne, as a rich playboy, would live in the suburbs rather than, say, a mansion that would give him more cover for his activities. The answer might have been that a mansion set and/or location would have been too much for the film’s budget, except that the filmmakers clearly had a mansion set to use for another character’s home in the film.

Such flaws however tend to add to the film’s overall charm and give it a layer of unintended but amusing comedy, which would sink the production if it were not so innocent. And really, that is what allows Batman and Robin to hold up: it aims to do nothing more than to entertain with its limited resources. While it may not be the best adaptation of the character ever committed to film, Batman and Robin does have the distinction of being an entertaining adaptation that is worth checking out for fans of B cinema and the Batman character. Plus, the film is filled with enough fistfights, car chases and explosions to live up to the serial’s promise of exciting adventure.

Given my enjoyment of this film serial, I will soon be delving into more of the Classic Hollywood era film serials which gave birth to the George Lucas/Steven Spielberg era blockbusters. But before I get into those, there is a matter of reviewing two genuine science fiction film classics from the past two years…