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In 1991, a new, alternative rock-influenced aesthetic began to break out from Seattle’s street culture. Nose rings, neon hair, and flannel moved from the fringes into the mainstream, and in the middle of this, Kurt Cobain epitomized a new masculine prototype. “[He] was the antithesis of the macho American man … he made it cooler to look slouchy and loose, no matter if you were a boy or a girl,” said The Fader’s Alex Frank to Vogue. This asexual look was softer and influenced by the same “heroin chic” look that glorified waif-like appearances in women.

The superhero world saw its own alternative figure emerge when, in the mid-’90s, Brandon Lee brought the dark, brooding figure of The Crow to movie theaters. He looked almost like a strung-out Batman, gothic and lanky with pale skin and messy hair. The movie was a box-office sleeper hit that went on to spark a sequel (despite the tragic death of its lead actor before filming even wrapped). Around the same time, the comic-book character The Sandman, also known as Dream, appeared in an ongoing Vertigo series—he, too, had a skinny-rocker look closer to Sid Vicious than to Superman. (The film version of this character got lost in development having bounced around between various producers and writers. A scathing review of the working script on Ain’t It Cool News in 1998 essentially killed the project.)

In this kind of cultural environment, the muscled heroes of yesteryear started to become objects of comedy or even straight-out mockery. It was this decade that presented Batman & Robin, the most lighthearted and campy of all the movies in the DC franchise. Batman and Robin were also explicitly sexualized in that film, with superhero suits that sported nipples and repeated shots of codpieces and bat buttocks that intensified the comic effect. It was also midway through the ’90s that the popular animated show Ren and Stimpy introduced Powdered Toast Man, a baritone-voiced superhero with gleaming butt cheeks whose tagline to people he rescued was, “Cling tenaciously to my buttocks!”

But with the new millennium a kind of truce formed, and a variety of bodies began to be represented. Perhaps no movie represents this better than 2009’s Watchmen. The ensemble here included the ultra-muscled Dr. Manhattan—who sported a computer-generated body modeled after that of the fitness guru Greg Plitt—and the middle-aged Nite Owl, who wore a sculpted outfit that hid his otherwise out-of-shape figure. It’s worth mentioning that neither man is an object of ridicule, and both are love interests for Watchmen’s leading lady. They share the role of protagonist and both claim the audience’s compassion and respect, signaling an increased acceptance that men of all shapes and sizes can be romantic heroes.

As for this current decade, superhero stories are like Dr. Octopus’s tentacles, stretching into every direction with multiple spinoffs. But it seems that as studios continue to roll out more superheroes, the leading men are becoming homogenized. Captain America (Chris Evans), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), and pretty much the entire Avenger’s lineup is a fleet of cookie-cutter musclemen. Even when “schlubby” (or snarky) antiheroes appear like Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) or Peter Quill in Guardians of the Galaxy (Chris Pratt), they still come with an action-ready six-pack. Meanwhile, characters with other body types are often alien or not human at all, as is the case with Peter’s raccoon sidekick.

The same seems to have held true for Batman v Superman and the upcoming Captain America: Civil War, X-Men Apocalypse, Wolverine, and Guardians of the Galaxy’s sequel. These superheroes are approaching a point of such rigid physical perfection that Hollywood is hovering dangerously close to the uncanny valley, a place of eerie, manufactured humanity. As this ideal becomes duplicated ad nauseam, it might end up disconnecting with viewers—because this echo chamber of muscle men neglects what’s actually compelling about superheroes: the place where “super” and “human” intersect.

Of course moviegoers still expect their superheroes will be better, stronger, and closer to god-like than the average man. But the superheroes of the previous decades could convey superiority along with a dose of humanity. After all, there’s no true heroism without a degree of vulnerability. Even the early radio programs of Superman understood this—that’s why they invented Kryptonite.

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