Superman: Archetype Casting

Supes

Spider-Man: Spinning a Myth

Finish you soon.

The Hulk: Despite All My Rage, What Makes Me Cool is Still Hard to Gague

To show how directionless he was from the get-go, he was even conceived as grey!

 Two things that the comic book superhero has always has, a contribution to, or measure of, their success, are iconic-ness, and world-building. There are plenty of examples of the latter lacking the former. After all, one does not need to necessarily be a huge success in order for the author to come up with ideas. Although continued and expansive publication will certainly allow for that opportunity. The Hulk, however, is an interesting case where he is definitely iconic. Any given non-comic reader could name him, even before the superhero media boom of the 2000's. The "Hulk Hands" were the most popular toy of 2003. However, he has always been a character with a very low expansion rate. Spin-offs are extremely rare. In a time where even Adam Warlock could somehow sustain two titles, it's always been difficult for the Hulk, even though the character has rarely been in danger of cancellation. Likewise, while he had a well-known (but perhaps not frequently rerun) television series, his other media incarnations have been dubious. Two aborted attempts at a movie franchise...he was only seen as being done "right" onscreen with this summer's Avengers. How is it we have a character that can't quite be a cash cow, but manages to thrive as a...cash oxen?

It's probably not that hard to figure out, really. After all, a character who spends the story as either an impotent weakling or mentally dull brute does not offer the most variety for storylines. In fact, the comic book seems to be the most interesting when the formula is broken. Usually he's given Banner's intellect, and sent into a microscopic universe, a space gladiator, a freedom-fighter for an organization named after characters from "The Odyssey", or a mob enforcer. Sometimes they'll really throw us for a loop with giving us a gray Hulk or a red Hulk. Writers manage to do the most with the character when they throw our expectations for a loop. He is in "deconstruction mode" for 80% of the time. It's just somewhat fortunate that the formula, is so well known, even to those who aren't comic book aficionados, that they don't have to worry about building up what they're tearing down. Most people know who the Hulk is going in, so almost every story can be "Everything you know about the Hulk is CHANGED", although we are soon given a snapback to the original premise.

Ferrigno has actually had a part to play in every live-action Hulk incarnation

It probably doesn't help either that the Hulk, as a superhero, is remarkably limited in his power set. In addition to not being a particularly smart character in his powered identity, the only thing he is...is strong. Punching can be a lot of fun, but offers limited ways to take things. It's almost the equivalent to professional wrestling. It has its ardent fans, but for those who want more than muscles, (Especially in today's media, which seems to emphasize finesse more than brute force), it can offer scarce little. The Hulk is the "strongest one there is", which means very little physical threat. This has affected the popularity of characters like Superman, Thor and many others. But at least those characters have a wider variety of settings, maneuvers, and inner monologue. In his purest form, the Hulk can't be physically bested, but he also has very little motivation. Therefore, one has to go to great lengths to make the adversary interesting, and unfortunately, writers have largely missed the ball on it.

A lot of these factors did not hurt the television show at all, (Which jettisoned a large, large part of the character's "mythology", which probably says how integral it all was.) for several reasons. One was a large party of Bill Bixby's appeal as a television leading man. Another is simply how different the television climate was at the time. Television was allowed to be a lot more formulaic at the time. The "failure is the only option" premise was fairly common in television. Likewise, the largely rotating "person to person" cast seen in shows like The Fugitive and Highway to Heaven was perhaps a boon to viewers, who had less opportunity to catch up on reruns. Television today, much like comics for decades, rely on a loyal fanbases who eat up the storyline and demand a constantly undulating narrative. Prime time television did not really focus on serial storytelling like comics had at the time. Hence a the success of a character simple enough for the medium, but dark and poignant enough for the seventies.

She-Hulk, one of the few "spin-offs" that caught on.

                                                       

And it is a poignant concept. An incredibly poignant one. The concept of a gentle man who, when losing his temper becomes an uncontrollable monster is so simple, so primal, it's amazing it is not a well-known, centuries old fairytale. The Hulk idea draws a lot from previous stories...Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Beauty and the Beast, various werewolf tales...but somehow they all came together in something even simpler. Perhaps this is only really effective fable in a world that post-dates The Enlightment and Psychology. In a world more mental than physical, the horror of losing control strikes a deeper chord. Nevertheless, even without a great deal of powers, archenemies, or supporting cast that garners a large collection of Wikipedia articles, we have a character that has become the very shorthand for anger. (In practice, Banner turns into the Hulk under duress more than anger, but never let the details get in the way of a good icon.) Thus the character remains popular enough maintain a series (With shakeups every now and then to keep readers and especially writers from getting bored), but without inspiring too many different premises one ostensibly needs to justify another book. The major exception being She-Hulk, with a witter, more light-hearted personality, allows her to be more proactive in her own stories, as well as partake in teams, almost perenially, in contrast to the usually lonely male counterpart.

The journey to the screen has been a hard one. It's perhaps likely the Hulk might have done better in the 90's, and the disaster movie craze found in it. Large explosions, military trappings, and long talking between the money shots. This was a cultural fabric the Hulk probably fits more squarely into. But the quick, snarky ensemble franchises of the last ten years or so was a different kennel of fish. It probably didn't help that Ang Lee made a film that was perhaps a lot, lot more avant garde than it needed to be. (And used a lot of strange comic book style-framing that was really unnecessary for a character more inherently cinematic than a lot of his funnybook compatriots.) After another attempt in 2008 that was largely deemed "perfunctory", the Hulk was, of all things, deemed the breakout of 2012's The Avengers. This was especially ironic considering he wasn't even a very prominent member of the team in the book's nearly 50 year history. But perhaps with the movie being much looser in its format than the comic has to be, we don't need to deal with the minutiae that would bog down long-form storytelling. The Hulk's "third time's the charm" circumstance itself owes to a few things. Perhaps Mark Ruffalo was just better suited as a more gentle contrast to the beast, (as opposed to the colder Bana, and more intense Norton.) Or maybe without him driving the story, the crew could focus what was fun and compelling about the character. In any case, it shows that even though creative types don't know what to do with the character, the Hulk, as an idea, is one that has a lot of appeal to the masses.

Kids will always find visceral appeal in playing a raging monster.

 In fact, the character took a couple years to even catch on in the comics. Launched as a solo title, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby meandered giving the Hulk different triggers for transforming every issue, or even giving him the ability to fly for one story! After being canned for one issue, the character become a recurring guest star/sparring partner, and being part of the launch for the Avengers comic series. It was only collaborating with Spider-Man co-creator Steve Ditko to Lee find a groove that fit. So in some ways, his cinematic outings are history repeating itself. Will writers take the comic version into even stranger directions? Does Avengers give faith in continuing solo outings with the Hulk? Who knows. But it's perhaps a testament to how enduring comic book icons can be. This is a character that has seen highs and lows, derision and applause. He's an interesting case study on the difference between having an extensive mythology, and being a compelling myth.

Iron Man: Fame as a Marathon: Not a Sprint

The transition from monsters to superheroes in the Silver Age was sometimes a...gradual one.

There's definitely a hierarchy amongst superheroes, and amongst fans, one of the discussions quantifying those hierarchies include not just the ability of one to trounce the other in combat, but also who is more relevant in the real world. If you look at house ads, promotions, merchandising and the like, you'd see a sort of recurring "core". A comic book A-List. While there can be a few constant linchpins, it can be surprisingly fluid as well. Even the Hulk and Wonder Woman have fallen out of trinities or quorums, every now and again. For the longest time, Iron Man would often be in that stable...if there was room enough. But for much of his existence, the armored Avenger was not quite the top of the heap. He was kind as popular as one could be without being a flagship. He would never reach the levels of prominence that Thor, Daredevil, or the Punisher would attain in their heyday. But he would also never sink to their levels of obsolescence. To put it bluntly, Iron Man was kind of "just there", albeit in a usually respectable way.

He certainly had a few things going for him. The design, when finally fleshed out, was a pretty spiffy-looking one. And having a main character adept in technology opened up an avenue for all kinds of options in storytelling. Plus, Stan Lee would claim that the debonair Tony Stark made him a popular figure with female readers. (Though it should be noted, as a historian, Stan Lee has always made a great storyteller.)  Plus, as I've mentioned before, having a concise, almost palpable theme is great way to stand out as a superhero. But there were downsides as well. The technology factor always made it easy for writers to come up with an idea, but it probably also meant they were never really challenged to think outside the box. The comics world is littered with dime-a-dozen champions and crooks alike who have their own apparatus, often a "power-suit". Sure Iron Man is undoubtedly the premier technology equipped super-guy, but it's still a category so brimming with factory-made efficiency, it can't help but inspire ennui.

The growing action figure provided a lot of possibilities.

 

It probably didn't help he didn't feature in the most ground-breaking stories. Much of the Marvel pantheon is attributed to Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's lightning storm of imagination, with credit being given to Steve Ditko, a less prolific but still integral part to the birth of the "Marvel Universe." While all three men have done some work here and there on the character, the main artist of the strip was Don Heck, who, if the "House of Ideas" was considered the Beatles of comics, would most assuredly be the company's Ringo Starr. He plodded along, adequately enough, but was never stood out in any landmarks in the Marvel Age of Comics. His angst always seemed to pale compared to that of Peter Parker's, Bruce Banner's...even Steve Rogers's. The premise of having the chestplate keeping him alive was dropped pretty early on, and while the artificial heart he was given was often alluded to as some kind of internal Sword of Damocles, his troubles weren't seen as quite as dire as the rest of Marvel's signature outcasts'. As the late 1970's rolled around, writer David Micheline eventually came up with the idea of making him an alcoholic. This resulted in some impressively dark storylines that extended well into the 1980's. But even then, these stories were often overshadowed by works like Chris Claremont on X-Men, Frank Miller on Daredevil, John Byrne on Fantastic Four, and Walt Simsonson on Thor. The Iron Man stories, while considered very good, seemed almost a justification there was potential in the character, not something that redefined the medium.

 

Still, Iron Man was never too far out of the spotlight, as there was nothing particularly wrong being done with the character. He had his first shot at ascendency in the early 1990's. Toy mogul Avi Arad looked at Iron Man and thought he could be the cornerstone of a toy empire. At some point in the decade, it was felt Marvel's intellectual properties sould be sub-divided into their own "universes", for instance the X-Men, or its various supernatural characters. Iron Man was seen as a natural, due to his distinctly technological nature, and his base of operations in Los Angeles, separating him from the New York heroes, both in scenery and editorial mandate. His multiple armors (and often armor-clad adversaries) seemed ideal a foundation for a toyline that could surely thrive in the industry that made Transformers. However, this new direction suffered a myriad of problems. Some of Iron Man's troops (Scarlet Witch, Century) didn't particularly mesh with this technology theme, and the creative work...the comics, the cartoons...were often well below average in quality. Marvel soon filed for bankruptcy, hopes for a hydra of merchandising dashed, and Iron Man was simply folded back into the consolidated "Marvel Super Heroes" brand.

Ah, the 90's...

 

Iron Man spent much of the 2000's in the background, once again overshadowed, this time by the movie craze. By now his character had too many dark moments to be a beacon of neoclassicism, but he was naturally not a good icon for the iconoclasm that would sometimes pop up in the 2000's Marvel. A movie of his was always in the works--after all, a relatively less outlandish concept, and a nice, glamorous role for a leading man to play. The project attracted no less than Tom Cruise, amongst others. But ultimately, the comic's modest sales and lack of a driven director to champion of the project put it in development hell. A funny thing ended up happening, though. Marvel thought it would be a fine start for their own, hands-on movie projects. And a certain actor named Robert Downey Jr. signed on for the role. Downey had long been seen as so much squandered potential, who's personal demons had made him impossible to cast for insurance reasons. There was enough baggage in the character to draw upon Downey's impressive acting chops, but enough levity and glamor to make, what was essentially, an honest-to-God movie star turn. Underneath all the comic book special effects, Black Sabbath music, and high-tech jargon, what we got was pretty much the kind of stuff we would see from Cary Grant or James Stewart in Golden Age cinema. Downey's career was reignited, but because the character wasn't too iconic, it didn't overshadow or typecast him. The reception of the movie in turn raised the character's profile, who, with a sharp, easily merchandise-able look, could be put on T-Shirts and the like without having conform to whatever Downey looked like at the time. A strange sort of symbiotic duality in play.

 

But that's what served as the catalyst for his popularity. What has kept him at least kind of relevant for decades? What has allowed him to endure, when technology themed heroes are so easy to create, and yet so many have fallen by the wayside. As mentioned before, technology themed heroes are abound. It's said that entering a more technological age made him more relevant. But that may be an arguable point, as the possibilities of future technology have been fetishized  since the 1950's, at least. And your typical gearhead hero just feels trendy. Likewise, while we're in the cybernetic age, Tony Stark has never really been a "hacker" kind of hero...although he certainly knows his way around a mainframe. He's more a God of the Forge. He's Hephaestus. It could be said that, while Iron Man certainly takes to a cybernetic age like a duck to water, that he's so enduring can be laid at the feet of the opposite notion. In a lot ways, Iron Man embodies something older and more natural. Iron is not a specific invention, it's an element. It's something harvested, not invented. The films make a point there's actually very little iron in his suit's makeup. So while Tony Stark certainly can invent all kinds of ingenious doo-dads, in a way, he probably harkens more to a tribal leader from the hills wielding a claymore than some egghead in the lab. There's a very animist tradition in a lot of Marvel's more popular characters, and while Iron Man is often thought of the avatar of what we create, I think he often fits in because his name is about what we create from.

Who'd have thought a longtime superhero would make for a great star vehicle?

It'd be interesting to see where the character heads when Downey is finished with him. He'll always be around. And while a more machine-based society is something that won't slow him down, I think he's always held in there for more primal reasons, come to think of it. Ironically enough.