Once, there was a period in which superhero culture — and general nerd fandom, for that matter — was much more ostracized from the mainstream than it is today. It’s confounding to note that something like Jersey Shore was the cooler, more socially acceptable piece of monoculture to engage with at one period of this absurd timeline known as human existence, but it’s true! Nowadays, even the most obscure of characters from comic book roots are immediately recognizable and, more importantly, understood as being significant.
In the past few years, we watched a movie involving talking raccoons and “infinity stone” MacGuffins become one of the highest grossing films of all time. “I loved when Captain America lifted Thor’s hammer and when Ant-Man punched the floating alien thing,” my dad said to me upon finishing Avengers: Endgame, unironically and with a tone that doesn’t seem to recognize how absolutely insane it is we’re having this conversation in the first place. All those famous songs were right: the times they are a-changin.
There have been many critics of this development, sure — some that can be dismissed as snobs, but many with rightful concerns at its stymying creativity — but there’s no doubt that it’s here to stay. With the advent of perhaps the crown jewel of superhero obsession, Zack Snyder’s Justice League (or the #SnyderCut), and all the talk about WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, I’ve been thinking a lot about one specific superhero story in particular: the anime My Hero Academia.
I would wager that there’s no inconvenient time to talk about My Hero Academia, but season 5 of the series being currently underway, combined with the release of the aforementioned #SnyderCut makes it especially timely. The latter reasoning is particularly relevant here. Why? I’ll tell you exactly why, true believers: because I’m fed up with Superman’s potential being squandered on the big screen, especially when My Hero Academia seems to understand the character better. The show is doing a dab and dancing over the grave of all the failed mainstream Superman stories we’ve received the last several years.
The ironic part is that I didn’t always care for Superman. Okay, that’s a lie, I used to loathe Superman. Back in my younger days (i.e. high school, which I shudder at the thought of remembering was nearly 10 years ago), I mocked Superman constantly. I couldn’t understand how some invincible, all-powerful character could be interesting. I called him cheesy, and wack, for how naive his theme and background felt by today’s standards. And, to a degree, I still feel that way. It’s a specific and brutal kind of boring when most of the popular culture surrounding Superman seems to focus more on how powerful he can be — in the blockbuster action sort of sense — which I never found to be interesting.
Sure, I’m a well-documented super fan of Naruto, who by the end of his eponymous series is practically a god with the ability to harness nature energy, among other things. But that’s the thing; it was by the end of his story. I always felt the action and feats Superman accomplished, like in 2013’s Man of Steel for example, felt unearned. There was no growth in his powers. But more importantly, there wasn’t enough depth and growth for him as a leader or role model; instead, you are being force-fed the idea that he is someone to root for and matters. What My Hero Academia does so well has to do with All Might (voiced by Kenta Miyake, Christopher Sabat in the english dubbed version), one of its main characters.
The series takes place in a world where 80% of the population possess some kind of superpower. It mostly revolves around Izuku Midoriya (voiced by Daiki Yamashita, Justin Briner in the english dubbed version), a young boy with aspirations to become the greatest hero in the world despite not having a power of his own, but All Might is the focus here as he essentially serves as the Superman of this world. In the tertiary sense, All Might is similar to Superman as the most powerful hero in the world, nearly invincible and feared by all villains, and possessing the same mythological levels of super-strength (albeit without the heat and x-ray vision).
But All Might is more than just physical strength; he’s a symbol. Perhaps the most powerful moment in the entire series, to which there are many, is his fight against All For One, a foe with the ability to absorb powers and use all that he’s accumulated over an extended period of time. The battle is not just significant in its blockbuster sense, but it’s done with so much sincerity and heart that you genuinely root your heart out for him. This is all echoed by scenes of characters, and the many onlookers, cheering his name, some from their homes in tears rooting for their hero and what he represents: hope. It’s a classic, almost simplistic, scene of pure good versus pure evil, and that’s the beauty of it. Just because something is trite doesn’t make it any less true, or meaningful.
But on top of all this, All Might is much more flawed than Superman; he’s insecure and discouraged by his decline. He has sustained injuries that have made him slightly less invincible than he used to be, but continues onward knowing he just has to try to carry the burden for the common good. It’s a noble message — that even the literal most powerful human being alive can have their own self-doubt and fears — and adds a level of relatability.
The key to creating a great Superman movie isn’t in his powers but in what he represents; there are countless possibilities such a person could bring to our decaying waste of a world. In the aforementioned Man of Steel, there is a scene involving the one and only Superman being questioned by the military about what the “S” on his chest means. “On my world, it means hope,” he says, with a cheesiness and sincerity. It’s only a fraction of the sentiment the character should be evoking, but instead the movies often go for a moodier, more realist approach. There’s a misconception that stories can’t be mature or impactful, in their own way, if they aren’t done in such a “see, we can be DARK too!” style.
Somewhere out there, I genuinely believe there exists a screenplay for a Superman movie that is hardly filled with any over-the-top superhero brawls we’ve grown accustomed to. Unfortunately, because Hollywood be Hollywood-ing and Capitalism be Capitalism-ing, that may never happen. With rare exceptions, such esoteric stories for these characters don’t seem feasible.
But even still, if there’s one thing to take away from the Superman ethos, it’s that hope is an incredibly cool thing to appreciate no matter how cliche it is. Maybe someday we’ll get a story that can match what My Hero Academia did with All Might. Given the state of the world, it actually feels somewhat tragic that people can’t seem to realize — just as I, the obviously correct and only smart person out there has — that the character’s alien origins, journalistic day job, and overall commitment to taking on evil in all its forms (whether it be the tyrannical alien invader Darkseid or the egocentric billionaire Lex Luthor) could succeed and be, dare I say, important.