Pensive Prowler #24: Justice League of Steppenwolf

Pensive Prowler #24 by Dmetri Kakmi

Justice League of Steppenwolf

The following does not constitute a film review of Justice League. More a running commentary as my befuddle mind tried to make sense of the movie through an alcoholic haze.

As the movie begins (I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong with the title), I console myself with one fact. Even thought I don’t know what happened in Man of Steeland Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, I’m familiar with the main players: Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Aquaman…

Hold on. Who’s the black electronic kid in the hoodie? Cyborg? Never heard of him. Good thing he looks like disco inferno, circa 1979. If he’s ever unemployed, he can hire himself out as a disco ball.

And who is Amy Adams supposed to be? Can’t be Lois Lane. She’s not wearing a pillbox hat and making smart quips. Oh, dear, what a long face she has. Looks like a smacked bottom.

And right off, first kick in the gut: Superman is dead. In comic book parlance that’s like saying God is Dead. No wonder Trump’s in the White House and Melanoma is wandering the globe in a pith helmet.

Exhausted by the welter of new info, I fortify myself with a sip of martini, turn to screen and SCREAM.

A really ugly actor is pretending to be Batman.

Ugh, I need another drink after that. Nobody told me this was a horror movie.

Seriously, the guy squeezed into the Batman mask looks like one of those average Joes you see on amateur gay porn websites where they dress like a favourite superhero and get off with other wanna-be superheroes with bodies that are propped up with Enchiladas.

Only this actor—whoever he is—looks like he needs to have his blood pressure checked as well, and cut back on calories. If he doesn’t, he’s going to bring a parapet down on someone’s unsuspecting head.

Recovering, I pull out the iPad and hop on to IMBD. The puffy dude is Ben Affleck? Seriously, Mr Ben, you’re younger than me. Pull yourself together. You’re heading for a stroke.

While I’m there, I check out Aquaman because—hate to tell you—there’s something wrong with him, too. Jason Momoa, Hawaiian. Lazy eye. Probably got hit in the head with a surfboard. I’m not kidding, he resembles a gecko with eyes looking in opposite directions. Must freak out the fish.

All I can say is, director Zak Snyder must have told the casting director to gather Hollywood’s most unsightly actors and bring ‘em in, baby, cause we is a gonna make Freaks 2. Jeremy Irons, Amy Adams and Diane Lane are the only decent looking people in sight.

A better title for this might be Justice League of Fuglies. If nothing else, it’d console mere mortals who are condemned to sit there, looking at Henry Cavill and Gal Gadot’s plastic perfection with envy. By the way, did you notice how Cavill is fully dressed when he’s dead in the coffin and half naked when he leaps out like a demented jack-in-the-box? What’s that about?

And right there it hits me—what’s wrong with the title. When I was a teenager reading these comics it was The Justice League of America. Not the neutered Justice League. But I suppose the abbreviation is necessary today. No one in their right minds would call a multi-million dollar blockbuster The Justice League of America, because—well—American Imperialism. Box office poison.

Even so that doesn’t stop the script from lodging the great evil in Russia and rubbing Putin’s nose in it by sending American vigilantes to save the neglected peasantry from dastardly overlords.

Next, I check out Gal Gadot on IMDB. Because—hate to tell you—there’s something wrong with her as well. Odd accent. Is it a cleft palate? No, she’s Israeli.

Look here, the Amazons came out of Libya (that’s north Africa for those who’ve never looked at a world map), made their way through Egypt and Syria to settle on the Black Sea, in north Anatolia, not too far from where I was born. That’s why I think of the warrior women like distant lesbian aunts. And I can tell you the gals around Samsun don’t look or sound like Gal Gadot. More like the Hulk.

At least the Flash is there to give my eyes a rest. He’s so perky in that body-hugging crimson costume. When I was in my teens I wanted to be the Flash. Why? So I could run away from gay bashers. If push came to shove, however, I’d be the Silver Surfer. Because who doesn’t want to surf naked in the sky?

For me the star of Justice Leagueis the villain, Steppenwolf. Check out his achievements:

  1. He says marvelous things like ‘Praise the mother of horrors.’
  2. He wears fabulous hats with horns that’d make Philip Treacy envious.
  3. He turns Russia into Mordor.
  4. And he generates more personality than Gadot and Cavill combined.

I laughed when one character said Steppenwolf is “the end of worlds” and “he needs only to conquer.” In other words, he’s Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk rolled in one. I for one hope he wins. And let’s me wear his hat.

Dmetri with Hat

Dmetri Kakmi (Episode 158) is a writer and editor based in Melbourne, Australia. The memoir Mother Land was shortlisted for the New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards in Australia; and is published in England and Turkey. His essays and short stories appear in anthologies and journals. You can find out more about him here.

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