The superhero movie is the lone substantially new (sub)genre of our generation, something which has gone from nonexistence to proliferation with great efficiency. Credit special effects, finally able to effectively convey the outsized heroics of comics-derived heroes. Credit a sudden seriousness with which filmmakers regard the genre. Credit mere copycattism on producers’ part. And also credit X-Men, which earns praise as the real trendsetter in this form.
Oh, trust me, there were plentiful superhero films before X-Men and the new millennium. To simply look at their larger history (hopefully with some swiftness)…
Superhero cinema started almost as soon as superhero comics themselves. During the heady heyday of WWII, comics stories were regarded – rightly or not – as children’s stories. Hence superhero films were themselves childish, Saturday matinee serials: The Phantom, Batman, Captain America, all these from ‘43 and ‘44.
Then the movie serial died out, and with it super-cinema. The dogoodnik dogoodery of the Comics Code sapped the comic medium of its essence, as meanwhile Hollywood lost all respect for the genre – too good for comics, they were, with their atomic bug movies and whatnot. For a great long while, the only noteworthy filmed comic adaptation was TV’s “Batman” and its spinoff The Movie – that campy gag-factory shows what opinion most people still held on the matter.
Meanwhile, Marvel Comics started making a name for themselves in the ‘60s, Stan Lee’s assorted creations addressing notions the more classical Golden Age comics wouldn’t – like the possibility of social metaphor, such as with the X-Men and civil rights.
Meanwhile, Star Wars broke one barrier for comic films – special effects. Along came Richard Donner’s 1978 Superman, a serious hagiography of the DC hero, well ahead of its time…because most subsequent comic movies remained the purview of lesser studios, like Cannon and New World Pictures, with Superman IV and The Punisher, respectively.
Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman reignited major studio interest. Actual output of superhero films was still a trickle – DC was content with the Batman sequels, mostly, and once Batman & Robin sharted itself out, we were back at a dismissive, tongue-in-cheek ”better than the comics” mentality. Meanwhile, most comics movies (Steel, Barb Wire, Tank Girl, Judge Dread, god the ‘90s were a cesspool!) derived from more minor comics companies, suggesting little promise.
What of Marvel? For purely legal reasons, whatever of their properties were filmed (a 1993 Captain America, Roger Corman’s The Fantastic Four) remain unreleased, largely to this day! But Marvel bade its time, and when they did inspire a film – 1998’s Blade – it was in a less overtly “superhero” form. If any film has the edge over X-Men in inaugurating the present superhero trend, it’s Blade, which is so serious about its subject, it’s actually R-rated! But X-Men wins out by featuring recognizable superheroes – not only are the X-Men better known, what with their ‘90s TV cartoon and video games and all – but they better fit the public’s impression of superheroes. It was just a matter of doing this notion justice on screen, and not spending millions of dollars to undermine the subject matter, all Joel Schumacher-like.
X-Men’s development is nearly as convoluted as superhero films themselves. James Cameron initially had a hand, until he decided to go fail to make a Spider-Man movie instead. This was around 1990. Marvel retained their film rights, and went straight to the big studios. Ultimately it was Fox which bit, the unlikeliest of places for a property to be lovingly shepherded to artistic and financial success. This is 1994 by now, and that six year delay prior to the film’s actual release suggests Fox had a hard time of it. X-Men went through at least half a dozen scripts, it would seem, each with a slightly different approach – some no doubt frivolous and cavalier, much as Cannon once considered making Spider-Man into an honest-to-Lee horror movie (which still sounds less ill-advised than “Turn Off the Dark”).
Let us ignore all these complexities, and jump ahead to the point where Bryan Singer directed X-Men, with a screenplay credited solely to David Hayter. It’s 2000 now, and suffice it to say X-Men was a…perverse choice to kick start the superhero fad. For what it has over most other Marvel entities is the necessity to showcase many, many, many different heroes, each with a separate back story and powers and personality, and all these elements united together in a way that makes sense to “X-Men” neophytes while telling a captivating narrative. Hmm, it sorta starts to make sense why development took so long. And introductions are pretty much all X-Men has the time for, for even as streamlined as it is.
Nothing says “things would otherwise be altogether too confusing” than opening narration, so we get one courtesy of Professor Xavier, as embodied by Patrick Stewart. Mutations happen, it is posited, in a characteristically Stan Lee-style willful misinterpretation of evolution, resulting in a new class of humans – the mutants. All at once, people start appearing with hugely varied superpowers and – now this is the kicker – are victims of prejudice.
It is to the inestimable credit of X-Men that it takes this premise seriously, for as potentially silly as mutations could be (see Troma). This is old hat nowadays, with The Dark Knight among the cleverest metaphors for modern politics put out by a major studio – and X-Men’s thematics aren’t nearly as developed as those that’d come, but things have to start someplace. For instance, X-Men loads itself up with unmistakable references to historical events, of a most varied sort.
Central is the underlying concept of civil rights, particularly the distinction between Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X (an over-explored notion already, without my help). That name, “X-Men,” it’s no accident! Mutants are “an other,” a means to explore racism without actually exploring racism – look to “Star Trek’s” alien races, or Night of the Living Dead’s zombie class, for other ‘60s media with this notion. In “X-Men” (and X-Men), Lee, Singer, Jack Kirby and whomever else posit two elder states-mutants, Professor X and Magneto (in film, Ian McKellen). While each craves equal mutant rights, one prefers peaceful means (that’d be X, counter-intuitively re: Malcolm Little), and the other is militant (Magneto, of the Brotherhood of [Evil] Mutants). They are our hero and villain, respectively, and because their differences lie mostly in tactics, this is a far more rich relationship than many foes share. Indeed, Magneto and Professor X are old friends, which as of 2011 is again an inescapable fact. And for all that X-Men is an action movie, its heart belongs to a wheelchair-bound headmaster and an elderly Holocaust survivor.
Oh yes, the Holocaust – CGI-assisted narration aside, that’s what opens this popcorn blockbuster, ensuring no one misses the point about prejudice. And the metaphor doesn’t simply stick with segregation or anti-Semitism. The very next scene rephrases anti-mutant fervor in McCarthian terms – “I hold in my hands a list of mutants” (paraphrased), says an asshole senator (in other words, a senator). At other times, it’s an immigration debate metaphor . Or sometimes homosexual rights – no mistaking on this one, given Singer and McKellan (X2 furthers this particular thread). Oh, and when the movie climaxes, it’s at the Statue of Liberty, alongside an international conference on Ellis Island, gateway to America. Subtlety isn’t X-Men’s forte.
Neither is story, really. Because before we can get to story, first the world of the X-Men must be further elaborated, for the sake of newbies. To be established: The X-Men exist, a team of superheroic freedom fighters based out of Professor X’s Westchester institute. Merely plopping us in there, then moving on with matters of superheroism, would be sort of disorienting even for one schooled in all matters mutant – because mainstream film demands certain things, and one of those is emotional grounding. It’s best, in a sci-fi/fantasy world as developed as this, for a character to enter it gradually, just as we do. Enter Rogue (Anna Paquin).
As a teenage girl, Rogue (aka Marie, because there are mutant monikers, and then there are human handles, in the way all superheroes have alter egos) has just become aware of her mutancy – oh right, there’s also a metaphor for sexual maturity in here. Specifically, Rogue learns her touch can steal another’s essence, and mutant powers (provided said someone is a mutant). Her physical separation from the rest of humanity, that’s another of Singer’s eleventeen dozen metaphors. It’s effective enough, however.
In short order, Rogue joins with Wolverine (Hugh Jackman’s breakthrough role), not an original X-Man, but a fan favorite you just can’t do an X-Men without. Wolverine is our other access character, and while mutation is nothing new for him (making him an effective action hero, for our vicarious thrills), his recent amnesia leaves him just as confused. And while amnesiac heroes are usually a lazy writer’s trick, Wolverine’s history (a mysterious experimental adamantium skeleton, on top of preexisting super-healing) sort of necessitates it. It’s all there in the comics, after all, and speaks of greater Alkali Lake developments this Part One hasn’t the time to explore.
That’s became what we do now know of Wolverine takes long enough to establish, without further complications. Seeing as he knows so little himself, it’s up to the X-Men to examine him, and vice versa. For Rogue and Wolverine are soon the guests of Professor X, where the rest of the film is mostly devoted to putting forth more X-details.
Professor X we know, though the extent of his psionics, and his Cerebro machine, still need to be explored.
Then there’s the X-Men, and even with a reduced roster, this’ll take some time…
Team leader Cyclops (James Marsden) shoots lasers from his eyes. Personality wise, he is a boy scout, a straight man to counter Wolverine’s animalistic temper (right, I forgot, Wolverine has a bad boy thing going for him, hence his popularity).
Cyclops’ gal, Dr. Jean Gray (Famke Janssen), a more pathetic telepath than Xavier. Wolverine feels perfectly understandable lust for her, and…well, with powers and relationships and everything else, that mostly suffices for persona.
But your greatest cipher is Storm (Halle Berry)…who makes storms. This power is mostly assumed by the preexisting naming convention, because Storm doesn’t kick up a namesake until action demands it.
Keep in mind, initially screenwriters intended for Beast, Gambit, Angel, Colossus and Nightcrawler to also show (which they do not). Meanwhile, characters like Pyro and Iceman appear without fanfare, and it’s wholly up to fan speculation to assume that anonymous background extras might be Kitty Pride, etc.
To say nothing of Magneto’s crew. Of Magneto himself, well, if that name doesn’t say to you “magnetic powers,” this isn’t the franchise for you. Aiding him are shapeshifter Mystique (Rebecca Romijn-Stamos in a painted-on skin-tight blue non-outfit ahhhhhh – excuse me), toad-like toady Toad (Ray “Darth Maul” Park), and lesser Wolverine clone Sabretooth (pro-wrestler Tyler Mane).
[Deep breath.] Whew!
Where were we? Oh right, once we know all this stuff, there’s barely any time left for a climax, for in the Third Act the X-Men (now counting Wolverine among their ranks) first don their heroes’ outfits to go battle Magneto – in an eleventh hour scheme to turn humans into mutants via special effects. It’s curious, X-Men follows the “first superhero movie” sort of template (minimal action, plot, for all the world-building) even though it’s not an origin story, and thus lacks the usual excuse. The “X-Men” universe is just that complex, though!
Most of what I’ve related would’ve been a list of screenwriter’s challenges, and an outline says little of what actually works in X-Men. Much of what it does right isn’t even noteworthy after a decades’ worth of formula improvements, how it translates a comic book world to film mostly intact. That doesn’t mean unchanged, for among X-Men’s huger liberties are a change in outfits from yellow spandex to trendy black leather – something Cyclops even points out. This is no idle switch, done by an executive’s confused notion of toy sales or quadrants or not understanding the source material; Singer et al tested out more traditional “X-Men” duds before realizing, film being what it is, what seems normal is different. It’s hard now to fault this decision, or even approach it critically, since the black-clad X-Men have become so commonplace themselves since 2000.
Much of X-Men is hard to approach over a decade later. Future superhero epics have embraced CGI far better, making the dated 2000 effects curiously underwhelming. The action in total feels stagebound and unkinetic, like even earlier superhero efforts. Moments such as Wolverine floating via Storm’s and Jean Gray’s combined storming and braining, these feel just slightly silly now, like a guy on strings indoors. I don’t remember things looking this cheap a decade ago. Seriously, while the basic contour of this movie is familiar, my brain had somehow updated the visuals. And I don’t mean this as a slam, by no means, because I think X-Men is phenomenally instructive of how superhero movies have evolved, even since then.
There is far too much in “X-Men” for a single movie (or a single franchise, even), so sequels are pretty much a necessity. X-Men seems to be written with sequels in mind – partly by ending with a cliffhanger of Magneto imprisoned in plastic, partly just to cash in on the endless introductory exposition. Plus the truth about Wolverine’s past, Iceman and Pyro awaiting larger roles, and the vast swaths of popular “X-Men” characters not even alluded to thus far.
Given all that, there’s no evidence a sequel was guaranteed. Given X-Men’s position at the very start of the superhero upswing, two years before even Spider-Man, there’s no way success was guaranteed. Recall, Batman & Robin was still a vomitous taste in audience’s collective mouths, a climate where X-Men would seem a revelation. A “surprise hit,” it must be called, and a good thing too. With the exception of Batman and Superman, their franchises already defunct by then (oh, and Blade, who hardly seems to count), no superhero was yet engendering sequels. X-Men did, and then some, so that in ten years we’ve gone from “a sequel is a remote, outside rarity” to “we’re making prequels four years in advance” (The Avengers). Mutation indeed!
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