That’s a pretty bloated title isn’t it?
The idea of ascribing artistic value to massively budgeted pieces of commerce as entertainment is a genuinely silly thing to do. You see it all the time though, from the loudest corners of the internet whenever someone talks about a Christopher Nolan Batman film, or James Mangold’s Logan, or Ryan Coogler’s Black Panther. And those movies do have the weight of something approaching auteur vision, or at least a very sincere point of view that breaks outside of the usual mold that the ever growing tentacles of Kevin Feige and those who want to be him continue to subsume.
That battle between art and commerce may have reached its zenith in the production of 2017’s Justice League, which Warner Bros had firmly anticipated would skyrocket their collection of DC heroes right into the volley of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Mid-production, divisive director Zack Snyder removed himself (or was removed, depending on who you ask) from the project in the wake of a heart-breaking family tragedy. In addition to his exit, creative differences took hold: Snyder prepared a 4 hour assembly cut, and WB demanded a 2 hour version. WB tapped Joss Whedon, the filmmaker behind the 2012 cultural juggernaut The Avengers, to take over and begin an expensive process of reshoots to reshape Snyder’s deeply expansive narrative into exactly what WB was looking for.
The results were terrible, a mishmash of two completely different narrative approaches (as well as two shooting styles that look nothing alike) that, while not exactly bombing, was a massive disappointment for the studio.
There’s a lot to be said about the #ReleaseTheSnyderCut movement that grew from the failure of that 2017 release, from its laudable support and fundraising for suicide prevention (in honor of Snyder’s daughter, Autumn’s, passing), to its more toxic supporters who would openly harass critics of Snyder’s style. But one thing was consistent among its supporters: they held a never-flagging belief that Snyder’s near-finished work should be seen by the public at large, and that perhaps it could be a righting of what went wrong behind the scenes.
And, with the launch of HBO Max, the new overlords at AT&T listened. And so, we can now seen just what Snyder’s “cut” was all about.
First though, a quick word about my thoughts on the filmmaker himself. I am indeed a fan of Snyder’s. Not in as much as I think he is a particularly strong auteur – his work tends to not so much have thematic heft as just a lot of themes piled one on top of another, especially these DC films that he’s shaped from wholecloth with his collaborators – but I believe he occupies a unique space in populist entertainment. That vacuum represents a seeming sort of small-c conservatism/right of center worldview that tends to inform his work. It’s not a viewpoint I have anything in common with, but it does set him apart from the more homogenous mainstream liberalism that dominates the Marvel take. His heroes absolutely kill people, which is something he outright states. That mix of contradictions is fascinating to me. And while Snyder may not think through every implication of his work, he’s such a visually gifted stylist, that even his worst efforts still carry a mythic undertone well suited to this kind of material.
And to be clear, Justice League may be the best thing he’s done since he debuted with a George Romero remake.
Tackling a 4 hour beast of a film, possibly the longest anyone interested in this kind of project will ever watch, is an overwhelming prospect, so instead, just like Snyder breaks down his film into chapters for easier consumption, I’ll do the same.
It moves quicker than you might think
I don’t think there’s any way a 4 hour movie won’t feel like you’ve aged a tad in the process. I recall watching the extended cut of Batman v Superman, Snyder’s previous, and while it was certainly an improvement, it felt like it ate an entire day to watch, and breaks were definitely necessary. By contrast, Justice League, while having its own indulgences (many flashbacks, a copious amount of slow motion shots during action beats – a Snyder specialty, awkward Northern European acapella), it never fails to engage. It’s a non-stop torrent of mythmaking in the tradition of the best DC comics and anytime something regrettable happens, it’s immediately papered over by something thrilling and even, on brief occasion, awe-inspiring.
It’s the same story, yet not
If you were to set up a side by side comparison of the theatrical cut and Snyder’s version, in terms of broad strokes, they’d sound pretty similar. The villain Steppenwolf is still trying to get the three “Mother Boxes” to cause a cataclysmic event called “The Unity”, Batman has to recruit the Justice League to stop him, etc. Basically all the same set pieces are in place too. But what’s critically different is everything that connects the major blow by blows. Entire subplots and character motivations were deleted to fit into Warner Bros original demands for a multiple showing friendly iteration. Additionally, Snyder’s usage of tone works far better, utilizing Junkie XL’s score for maximum impact. Everything done here is, with exception of Ezra Miller‘s line readings, extremely poe-faced…but it WORKS. The previous take, which injected reshot humor breaks into almost every remaining scene, lessened the impact of these god-like archetypes coming together as a powerhouse team. A glaring example: the contemplative scene of the tortured Aquaman returning to the ocean here features Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds’ slow and powerful “There Is A Kingdom” whereas Whedon opted for the party-hearty anthem “Icky Thump” by The White Stripes. You get the picture.
The heart is restored
For whatever reason, and there’s certainly been plenty of discussion raised by actor Ray Fisher himself, the 2017 release left much of Cyborg’s plot on the cutting room floor. It turns out, he’s the entire emotional arc of the film. Not only is Cyborg intrinsically tied to the mcguffins by way of his origin, but he’s also a character to whom we follow on the traditional hero’s journey, as well as getting an in-depth glimpse of the difficult relationship he has with his father. It’s some of the most engaging stuff in the movie, and for some reason, THEY CUT IT OUT! He’s arguably the film’s most important character, and to be able to get a better sense not only of the motivations but also the pure scale of the abilities of this character turns him from an also-ran to someone who can stand toe to toe with these other iconic heroes.
The threat is far more ominous
Poor Steppenwolf, Jack Kirby’s creation, finally gets something closer to his due as well. Whereas before he was just kind of a generic alien invader guy in poorly designed medieval costuming, he’s now gotten both visual makeover and injection of personality. He’s a razor encrusted armored demon, a cross between something from the videogame Doom and the Shrike from Hyperion. While he’s still just sort of a perfunctory bad guy, it’s the new background provided for him that gives his efforts and the overall plot an extra oppressive aura. He’s not the main mover and shaker of destruction, it’s instead his lord and master Darkseid, whom he’s trying to curry favor with and return to his homeworld of Apokolips from which he was exiled. It’s his service to Darkseid that properly informs the threat facing these heroes, (ie: if this guy is this tough, imagine how devastating his boss must be), and the ongoing check-ins between Steppenwolf and those he reports to really drive home his own desperation. Elementary stuff on paper, but an impressive turn-around nonetheless. And to be blunt, Snyder gets Darkseid, at least in terms of his world-ending scale and his own obsessions.
No more mustache
With the excising of any reshot material, the horribly removed cgi upper lip Henry Cavill sported is completely gone. And what’s left for his character are some truly wonderful sequences that highlight, just like with Man of Steel, that Snyder understands Superman far better than his detractors claim. There’s a moment marking his return that was incredibly rousing, especially in its reuse of Hans Zimmer’s theme from that earlier film. I had to immediately find that sequence again, it’s just so good, and incidentally, fully fulfills all the Christ-like evocations that the director has been playing with since he started working in this universe. It’s a bit heartbreaking we’re unlikely to see Cavill and Snyder reunite for another take, because I’m not sure I’ve ever quite *felt* Superman in live action the way he appears towards the end of this film.
It doesn’t all work, though
But for all of its ambition and enrapturing qualities, there are some elements that don’t quite work as well as intended. Aquaman, for example, is a surprising downgrade here. While he was the rock and roll lug previously, which seemed to carry over to his big hit solo film, here he’s a much more somber figure, struggling to balance his destiny and his actual desires. The character is a bit adrift, no pun intended, and his added subplots (with a heaping helping of Amber Heard, now using a British accent for some reason, and a badly wigged Willem Dafoe) serve little other than to cause the film’s most sluggish moments. I didn’t care for his follow-up solo film, but at least its conception of Arthur Curry and the world his cast inhabits is on far more solid ground.
Sadly, Snyder’s seemingly favorite character, Batman, also takes a backseat here. Acting in the role of team co-founder with Gal Gadot‘s Wonder Woman, and elder statesman, he doesn’t have much of a role in anything. He’s just there because he’s Batman and somebody had to put the team together and fund its operations. The idea that he wants to make amends for his actions in the previous film does carry some weight, but it’s nowhere near enough, and Affleck largely looks bored this time around. Though, apparently a lot of this is a consequence of a rejected plotline between Batman and Lois Lane that would have informed subsequent sequels. That same revision also impacted Lois as well, as she gets nothing to do at all except hug on Superman and interact in one of the stranger Easter eggs of the film.
And again, it’s just too long. There had to be a happy medium between Snyder’s 4 hour “everything and the kitchen sink” version and the two-hour demands of the the studio. I will side with the filmmaker in most cases, and given the binary here that would be my preference, but it’s hard to imagine there’s not a tremendous 3 hour version that speeds up a few battles, cuts down Aquaman to only the necessary components, and eliminates a few scenes that feel like true dead-ends, like set-up for the long cancelled Ben Affleck directed Batman feature.
In all, a triumph
There’s a moment towards this Justice League’s end, where one of its heroes does something that’s so visually spell-binding it felt like the logical culmination of everything Snyder was building towards in his conception of these enduring pop cultural mainstays. This is a Grant Morrison type take of gods walking the earth, and in that rather astounding bit of visual wizardry it never becomes more clear. And to no surprise, it was cut in the film’s previous butchering. This feels like a microcosm of the entire problem that Justice League faced when it was initially released; the studio wanted funny and relatable, Snyder wanted all-powerful and aspirational. And thankfully, this time he got the opportunity to do it his way, and the results speak for themselves.
It’s perhaps the best DC film of the current cycle, and certainly the one that most embodies the inherent thrill of that publisher’s canon. It’s also one hell of a redemption story.
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