The rebellious content behind Super is so down-‘n’-dirty, you’d think it was conceived while the writer/director was on the toilet. James Gunn’s second feature film attracts an A-list cast. Wouldn't you be slightly curious as to why a little, grotesque fantasy like Super would attract the agents of some of Hollywood’s beloved movie stars, such as Kevin Bacon, Liv Tyler, Ellen Page, and Rainn Wilson?
Filmmaker James Gunn has been labeled as an “auteur” (I forgot where I read that). Not quite, but there is a distinct flavor to both Slither and Super; they both are over-the-top in the gore department and still, laugh-out-loud hilarious. For my money, Slither is a more clever, low-budget, cult experience, compared to Super, but all in all, both are naughty dark comedies, worthy of repeated viewings.
Writer/director James Gunn creates an anti-super hero, who’s a bit off-putting, but Rainn Wilson is very likable, and his portrayal as Frank is very dry and funny. His intentions aren’t necessarily to fight crime, but to rescue his wife, played by Liv Tyler, from falling into a downward spiral in the hands of Kevin Bacon’s character; a flashy and slick heroin dealer. Frank is a character who doesn’t know much about super heroes. He gets his ideas from a Christian channel, which airs a cheaply tailored and offensive, daytime super-hero sitcom, and his crimson costume, full of awkward straps and buttons, mimics the show’s grungy, home-made concoctions.
Frank comes across a 20-something girl, who’s a well-informed comic book geek, played with a manic fervor by the extremely talented, Ellen Page (Juno and Inception). At this point of the film, I couldn’t hold-back my laughter. Ellen Page’s character is the largest walking contradiction I’ve seen at the movies in a long time. She comes off as so sweet, cool, and charming, but the reality of her character is absolutely insane. You can tell that Ellen Page and the rest of the cast are having a blast transforming their parts to cater to James Gunn’s vile imagination. However, despite a series of dark, gruesome, and funny sequences, all of the characters lack a humanistic dimension. The concept itself has more depth than the individual characters. I think Liv Tyler has the most realistic portrayal; she’s truly the only individual who changes after confronting the lowest possible scenario imaginable for a dope whore. The rest of the characters are more into their groovy dialogue and shocking behaviors, rather than tapping into a realistic, psychological dynamic.
I wouldn't be surprised if James Gunn was thinking of Taxi Driver (1976) when he wrote the hero. Similar to Scorsese’s beloved masterpiece, Super is sort of about celebrating bloodied violence, and taking a mentally disturb nut-ball and commending his murderous impulse. This was certainly true for Robert DeNiro’s captivating and surreal perspective of a genuine madman, but I think there’s very little psychological depth en route for a provocative discussion, especially concerning the crimson crusader in Super. Despite some of the film’s goofiness, which unfortunately softens the edge, Super is a balls-to-the-walls, take-no-punches, exercise in crudeness, and I was very curious as to which direction the film would take after the abrupt shifts of random gore and cheap orgasms.
*** (out of four stars)
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