I should warn you, things are about to get a little meta here.
The Cape sucks. This is inarguable fact. If you liked it, you are a categorically bad person and I will bury you in six different countries (one of them will be Norway).
I just watched this and this idea just hit me so I won’t waste a lot of time poetically leading up to the why it sucks (unless you count this sentence…and this one…and this one…and–you know, let’s just do it.)
PHILOSOPHY.
Characters are defined by past and motive. With heroes and villains, though, they require something a tad different than motive. Motive is what guides a character from event to event, what shapes his reactions to other characters and what happens to him. Philosophy is what guides a hero or villain through his life, what shapes his reactions to himself and to his actions. That might sound a tad vague, but let’s compare (briefly) the philosophies of THE CAPE.
In THE CAPE, the main character is a cop. A cop who loves his family dearly. A cop who is faithful and true to his duty. A cop who sleeps in his son’s bed when his son has a nightmare. A cop who releases his anger by hitting a heavybag. This cop is done wrong by a maniacal villain. The villain takes over the city with his private army of policemen and banks! The villain is the face of a shadowy corporation! The villain wants nothing more than total power and control! The villain is above no means to get what he wants! Also, he’s British, like all villains…ever.
Does this sound familiar? Well, probably, because it’s pretty well-worn. Hero wants to maintain status quo, villain wants status quo shifted in his favor. Either way, not a lot is changing, is there? The city doesn’t really suffer under the villain and we can see he actually runs it pretty efficiently. We’re just told to believe he’s evil because he’s cackling and he’s British. There’s no real conflict in it for us, so not a tremendous amount of stake.
The philosophies don’t really work, do they?
So let’s look at something that does.
Batman’s stories are, essentially, philosophical debates. Nearly all his villains represent an ideology or philosophical point of view and none of them is more recognizable than the Joker. He’s gone through several iterations (several of which will undoubtedly be examples countering what I’m saying here, but that’s the nature of comics), but there’s been a few points that have remained largely the same about the Joker: he doesn’t really want power, he doesn’t really want money, he wants to prove a point.
That all machines, institutions and constructs of society are illusions, fragile things that can break and frequently do under pressure (usually applied by him). Thus, the world is as crazy as he is, pretending it’s something it isn’t. He’s in on the joke. It’s everyone else that needs it explained to them, so he does. Batman’s viewpoint is that these are things that are real, that they have to be maintained and respected, even if they don’t always make sense (hence why he does it himself rather than entrust it to police).
Every fight, every scheme foiled, every plot is a debate, point-counterpoint.
This is what makes a hero satisfying: his consideration of his own point of view against others. This is what makes villains three-dimensional: their desire to see things done a certain way for the reason they think are right. This is what makes a conflict interesting: the fact that you, the reader, can invest in a point of view and decide for yourself who is right.
But Sam!
Look, I was just about to wrap this up, so–
Aren’t your characters lacking philosophy themselves? Are they not in it purely for survival? Is that not more instinct than philosophy?
Hm, you raise a good point, voice in my head.
I would justify my own characters by saying that “I’m not sure” is a valid philosophical point. Many philosophical inquiries end in it and a character can experience the same. A character can be a philosophy-in-progress, an argument unto themselves. You see this frequently, in fact, from some of the most intriguing characters who are frequently pitted against themselves. Sometimes, seeing the philosophy being created is as interesting as seeing the philosophy in action against someone else.
It occurs to me that this might be a tad heavy, perhaps something that will take a lot more thought on all our parts before we can apply it to our own writing.
But, whatever. We’ve got time.
Those of us not on deadlines, anyway.
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Nicely put.
I think you can also compare and contrast nicely with Spiderman, where the philosophy of his character is explicitly stated by Uncle Ben, and the origin is a morality play around that. (With great power comes great responsibility.)
I haven’t seen The Cape, but one thing that they clearly missed as well is the fact that superheroes take that philosophy and externalize it. The costume they wear on the outside should reflect what’s truly inside of them. That’s doubly true for the Marvel characters: The Human Torch is a hothead! The Thing is invulnerable… and emotionally cut off. Etc. Etc.
There are other approaches.
Agency without motivation, motivation without forethought on a conscious level, or even the inability to understand one’s role through the lens of history/society. Or a philosophy which is no more than solipsism or an extreme example of sociopathy.
There are lots of villains out there who seem to fit this pattern; both in fiction and in the real world, sad to say.
To bring it back to the topic of capes: “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” And I suppose some men just like to dress up like garbage cans with matching cape and tights.
The sociopathic can be effective in establishing villainy, it’s true. I hate to bring it back to Batman, but if you ever read Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, you can see Mad Dog Hawkins used to this effect (though his effect was mostly used to set up madness in another character).
The thing is, sociopathic villainy tends to be rather senseless, which tends to discourage and depress the reader. Of course, that can always be your goal.
Certainly.
Sociopathy can be sometimes cleverly layered with a broader philosophy. One of the finest examples of this I’ve ever seen is perhaps Judge Holden from Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy. There is no doubt that the Judge is psychotic, but likewise, his madness is buttressed by a complex personal philosophy encompassing the nature of god, war, and knowledge itself along with personal agency – a philosophy which in this case, is as insane and frightening perhaps as his sociopathy.
Whereas The Kid is almost his opposite, not necessarily a hero, and if so, one almost entirely lacking any sort of formulated philosophy – and yet who reacts with an instinctual antipathy to the Judge, and who at the end of the novel deflates Holden’s mesmerizing but grandiose philosophy with “You ain’t nothin.” Or perhaps, does not depending on how you read the Judge’s reply.
Other examples of the combination of sociopathy and philosophy might be found in Alan Moore’s Miracleman comic – in the form of Johnny Bates (Kid Miracleman) where both childhood trauma and near absolute power have combined to make a villain of epic proportions. Or another of Moore’s characters, Ozymandias from The Watchmen who does terrible things for the greater good. But if you prick his philosophy apart, one must wonder how much is truly separate from his own self-centred outlook.
E.
I liked The Cape. The villian was revealed to have a pattern of crime well established before the start of the first episode, in a persona which he frame the hero for. It’s clear from the villian’s ongoing actions that he is trying to gain control of the city for his criminal enterprises to take over. So he has a motive and his general philosophy is anarchy and “supreme power should be mine.”
As for the hero, he is conflicted by his association with the carnival criminal band, which I think will be developed over time. He is also out to save the city, a job which formerly was something he was entrusted with a great deal of responsibility for. He is motivated also by getting back to the family he loves, restoring his name, etc. I think the two episodes played well for a start but they are just a start. Only so much story can be told in 41 minutes of television, a limit novelists don’t face in the days of Chihuahua killers. No room for 100 page battle scenes here, Sam. Their whole scripts were 57 pages max.
I think the series deserves time to see what they will do with it. I’ll give them that. Mythology does take time to build and the show will have its own like other shows in this mold always do. Its philosophy will also be revealed and the characters will be developed.
That’s sort of the point, though. “Anarchy” and “supreme power” are contradictory: anarchy assumes no one is in control, supreme power assumes someone is in control. There were hints that the villain wanted to be Chess and continue to hurt people after it was all done, but it was never really explored.
Beyond that, though, anarchy and supreme power are just motives without reason. Why anarchy? Why does he feel the world needs no law? Why does he feel the world needs HIS law? These might be explained later, but I’m not counting on it.
Brilliant post and one I agree with.
Followed it up with a blog post of my own here: http://www.adrianfaulkner.com/content/node/83
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This is the kind of post that makes reading your blog not only enjoyable, but makes me realize that you see things very similar to the way I do. Excellence.
..and I still want to be a Ninja Thug on your street gang.
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