Back in the year 1993, three kids at Heart Elementary School in southern California were having a discussion concerning wrestler Yokozuna winning the WWF Championship belt. A debate was had about which spandex clad, muscled-bound wrestler could take that fat ass down. One of those kids turned to the other and wouldn't shut up about Bret "The Hitman" Hart and how he should have a second chance to get his belt back, since he was robbed of it. Within less than ten minutes, the conversation changed to that of comic books and as to whether or not Superman was really still dead. I know this incident happened because I was one of those kids and the other two were my friends.



During that same year on the opposite coastline, three men relaxing on a South Carolina plantation, owned by Joel Silver (one of the three men), were talking about Warner Brothers reacquiring the screen rights to Superman. A discussion was had about which slick haired, car phone yelling, Hollywood Man of Reel could take charge of this lucrative franchise. Lorenzo di Bonaventura turned to film producer Jon Peters with this problem, and within ten minutes, Peters had convinced the new Warner executive that he was in fact their man. He would give Superman a 90s attitude and sell him to the cynical, pogs playing, grunge rock listening generation. The youths that would often dress up in pastel colors (because we were small and our parents bought our clothes) or as homeless crack addicts, but on purpose (because we were old enough to buy our clothes and that's what Nirvana wore!). I know this scene took place, because I read a wonderful book called Superman vs. Hollywood by author Jake Rossen.







A very good read.



I've wanted to see Jon Schnepp's documentary The Death of Superman Lives! What Happened? since I first heard about it as a Kickstarter campagin, and it was entirely because of that book. Everyone is aware that for the longest time, Warner Bros. has consistently given most of its cinematic attention to Batman and Superman--and that this fact won't technically expire until after 2016. Some are even aware that Superman is the one that has struggled the most, with only three of his six films (I'm excluding Superman and the Mole Men and Supergirl) being actually good (I loved Man of Steel and if its Rotten Tomatoes score was a Presidential election, Superman would be kicking back in the White House, smoking a doobie!).



And yet even fewer still are knowledgeable about the Superman film that was to be released in 1998, six years after the Death of Superman story arc that the movie would have adapted. Kevin Smith was brought on to write it. Tim Burton was to direct. And Nicholas Cage was set to star as the Man of Steel himself. We would have seen him battle Brainiac (played by Christopher Walken) and Lex Luthor (played by Kevin Spacey, a whole decade before he actually did), all after his initial epic fight with Doomsday (who, at one point, would have had the ability to morph portions of his body into the face of Clark's loved ones as a self-defense mechanism). It was a film that didn't get made. Ultimately being brought down by financial cold feet on the part of Warner Bros., before cameras even started rolling. What was left behind from the production was tons of concept art, screen tests, home videos and models. All of which had been locked up in storage for years, and there it would have stayed...had Jon Schnepp not dug it all up.



This past Thursday, I went to the premiere for this documentary at the Egyptian Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. There aren't many red carpet events that are available to the public and if you do get in, you're lucky if you can get good seats. Luckily for me, this was an independent film. So I had no problem getting in. Unluckily for me, it was about Superman. So I sat off to the side and just barely far back enough to see the whole screen (I'll admit I was happy with the seat I got, all things considered). I was smart enough to buy my tickets early, as it sold out the day before. Some of the faces I saw were familiar. Internet famous people. In attendance were Mark Hughes of Forbes (also contributor to Batman-on-Film), Grae Drake of Rotten Tomatoes (the Editor of RT who was shocked at Man of Steel's low rating) and YouTube personality ComicBookGirl19 (her momma named her Danika, Ima call her Danika).







One of the questions rattling in my head when the lights dimmed was, how are they going to start this movie off? There were other things I wondered, like who were they able to talk to? After the movie, Schnepp confirmed how difficult it was to get Tim Burton and Jon Peters to agree to be interviewed, so I wondered about the amount of screen time they had (they have lots). And yet I kept going back to that first question. Honestly, where does one even begin to tell this story? The transition of the rights from the Salkinds (Ilya and Alexander) to WB? Kevin Smith being called in to look at Beetlejuice 2: Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian? Watching the first few moments of the film, a smile ran across my face.



The film begins with the story of Bryan Singer working on Superman Returns. As we all know, he was very much in love with the Donner films. For a long time, Richard Donner's Superman was (and for many people, still is) the definitive Man of Tomorrow. The wholesomeness of the overall tone and painstakingly accurate-to-the-comics costume is what most folks remember from that era. During pre-production of Superman Returns, whenever a writer or artist complained about the iconic suit and begged Bryan to modernize it, he would gleefully pull out the infamous picture of Nicholas Cage wearing Tim Burton's "edgy" Superman suit. Like a school nerd prepared with a comeback he thought of the night before in response to a bully's predictable insult. What Singer didn't know at the time is that that picture was merely one of many early costume tests, and that the final suit Burton went with...was actually much more impressive. Indeed, even the weird looking "resuscitation suit" that also made it on the internet was going to have very limited screen time. And the movie wasn't going to be as dark as others thought (Burton was well aware of Superman representing the light of hope--whereas Batman represented the dark grit of melancholy)



Hands down, the film's funniest moments are comprised of the Jon Peters segments. Watching him deny embarrassing anecdotes or embellish others, only to have Smith or Burton set the record straight the very next moment was worth the price of admission alone. It's not often that a documentary has people laughing in a movie theater. But when you hear a Hollywood producer brag about being in over 500 street fights, the reaction becomes involuntary. The stories told about him in the film also ensured that Peters had a presence throughout, even when he isn't being interviewed. Burton had worked with Peters before on Batman and describes the producer as a "force of nature." The film shows you why.



Time and again, we are treated to the remarkably detailed and exuberant concept art for Superman Lives (some of the more sci-fi pieces have a Salvador Dalí feel to them), which is occasionally animated for us. These are without a doubt the most visually arresting moments of the film, and perhaps the strongest case to be made for the validation of Tim Burton's Superman. You don't have to be a film buff to know that Burton, like Zack Snyder, is more than capable of making the most astoundingly beautiful sets for his films and providing us with breathtaking cinematography. Like them or not, Burton's films often demand the attention of our eyes with the atmosphere he paints. A few times, we are treated to actual recreations of scenes from the script. The production values may have some people rolling their eyes, but for me, they were more than adequate. No worse than what you see on the History Channel. It serves its purpose of giving you an idea of what we might have witnessed in a darkened theater back in 1998. By far, my favorite of these recreations is the scene showing what Batman's cameo would have been like!



We're told the story of Superman Lives in bits and pieces, and the part that caught my attention the most was the story of the character named "K". In every film adaptation of Superman, his family (usually Jor-El) is in some way able to guide their son in some manner, long after they've died. Usually as a hologram. This is not the case in Superman Lives. Before sending baby Kal-El off on his journey to Earth, Jor-El is able to fit a small robot inside the rocket. More than just a toy or a teacher, K was meant to grow up with baby Kal-El--all the way into adulthood as Clark Kent. His last connection to Krypton. His last living family member. The significantly innocent music played during this segment illustrates how important the character was meant to be, especially to Superman, and makes the telling of K's fate all the more sad (or meaningful).



The most strikingly intimate moments of the film are the behind-the-scenes home movies where Nicholas Cage and Tim Burton are conducting costume tests in a hotel room. They casually talk about the character, have a few laughs and share their enthusiasm for the movie they're making. For a moment, you almost feel like you're there with them in the moment, just as excited as they are. It's so obvious...these two grown men are children again. You get mentally involved in their conversation. I loved hearing them talk about how the world would receive Superman as a freak, and how the Clark Kent persona would probably be the real freak, as showcased by Kal-El trying to fit in--being untrue to himself. What surprised me the most was the discussion of Superman being an outsider. A stranger in a strange land. How hard it would be for him to relate to others. How alone he would feel. Themes that wouldn't be explored again until Snyder's Man of Steel, almost 20 years later.



Should you see this film? Absolutely. The most impressive thing this movie accomplishes is also the most heart breaking aspect about it. That by the end of it all...when the credits start rolling...regardless of whether or not you came away thinking that Superman Lives would have been awful....you wish they made this movie.





The actual Superman suit we would have gotten, complete with short haired Nicholas Cage.



We fans are a spoiled bunch. Yeah, we have a lot of bad comic book movies out there. But they're out there for us. We have the option to watch them when we're bored or want a head-shaking laugh with friends. I remember talking to a Namor fan at WonderCon some years back and listening to her talk about how she'd settle for a bad Namor film, in exchange for what we have now. Which is no Namor film. If it wasn't for Simon Wincer's 1996 film, I probably wouldn't even be aware of Lee Falk's The Phantom (a character created in 1936). Warren Beatty is the reason why Chester Gould's Dick Tracy is sitting on my bookcase, instead of fading into obscurity. A user on this site once told me that he was grateful for the two Swamp Thing films that came out in the 80s, because it meant that a new Swamp Thing movie might very plausibly skip the origin story and go right into the Alan Moore story arcs--because the film maker might feel that the public is already familiar with it.



Me? My favorite comic book character is Batman. And there have been times where I've washed dishes while casually watching Batman & Robin from afar, laughing with blithe amusement at the one Batman film that was probably the spiritual successor to the 1966 series. Occasionally, I encounter so-called Batman fans that are quick to throw shade at the Adam West show. When I follow up with Yeah, but don't you think though that it fits in perfectly with the Silver Age 1950s Dick Sprang Batman? ... all I get is a confused look when the "Batman fan" asks me who Dick Sprang is. People forget that Batman Begins would not have happened if not for Batman & Robin. I'm grateful for the bad movies. Marvel Studios might not have made the Daredevil series as dark and serious as it was if not for the movie made ten years before.



And then...there is the possibility that this might have been a great film.



I would give both of my one of my testicles for the chance to be able to tell a friend "Hey, put on that Tim Burton Superman film with Christopher Walken Brainiac, John Carpenter's Doomsday and scary Kevin Spacey Lex Luthor, who seems more like Frank Underwood than Bryan Singer's Luthor. Put on Superman Lives! You know, the one that was kinda cool because it was different. Even if it hasn't aged very well."



There were many highlights from the evening itself. When director Jon Schnepp entered the theater, everyone gave a standing ovation. A few people yelled out his name repeatedly with unbridled fervor, as if to warn him of a descendant of John Wilkes Booth. This continued during the previews and opening credits (SCHNEEEEPP!!). Afterwards, there was a brief Q&A session. It was here that we learned how difficult the documentary was to put together with funds drying up more than once (how huge chucks of it went to interviews). The biggest laugh from the Q&A dealt with the revelation that Jon Peters, known for his horse play, had put the director in a headlock between takes. Schnepp and his producer Holly Payne also let it slip that he had actually been up all night, having finally finished rendering the film a mere four hours before the premiere (the computer had crashed once before). As a matter of fact, the premiere date was nothing more than a deadline he had set for himself.



Payne made it known that she was Schnepp's girlfriend at one point, which I thought was weird. That is, until she got on one knee and proposed to him. He said yes.





