An interesting and possibly unprecedented debate has arisen in the cinematic world over the past few weeks. Similar arguments occur whenever two films dealing with similar themes gain a degree of prominence among movie buffs. Never before, to my knowledge, has such a dialectic centered upon comparisons between an animated Disney feature and an R-rated live action counterpart.
Fandom is embroiled in precisely the situation described above following the release of Watchmen, by 300 and Dawn of the Dead director Zack Snyder. The film’s dystopian vision of the effect exerted upon Cold War-era America by the influence of masked vigilantes seemed to immediately invite comparisons to Brad Bird’s 2004 animted phenomenon The Incredibles.
Let’s dispense with the most obvious similarity before going any farther. The outlawing of superheroes serves as the preamble to both stories.
Having set that rather superficial resemblance out of the way, several deeper parallels come to light: the major plot element that someone appears to be killing off former heroes, the theme of pure intelligence and technology getting the better of traditional heroics (at least temporarily), and even the exploration of the factors which qualitatively separate superheroes from everyone else. (There’s even an explicit admonition regarding the perils of capes, albeit handled humorously in The Incredibles and tragically in Watchmen).
Still, however many similarities the two movies share, they are far overshadowed by the thematic and tonal differences that distinguish them. The heart of the contrast between The Incredibles and Watchmen lies in the fundamental difference between the kind of story that each movie is trying to tell. The Incredibles is essentially a nostalgia trip that glorifies superheroes, employing them as symbols of excellence set against an (excuse the contradiction) extremely ordinary world. Watchmen, on the other hand, has a diametrically opposed agenda. Rather than venerating superheroes, it relentless deconstructs them–exposing all of its characters’ flaws and vices while asking the central question: “was handing over responsibility for our lives to these people really such a good idea?” As if to drive home the movie’s radical opposition to The Incredibles’ elevation of superheroes, one of Watchmen’s central characters remarks near the end, “your only triumph was failing to prevent humanity’s salvation.”
The dichotomy between the two movies seems to have been noticed, at least subconsciously, by those who argue over which is better, usually manifesting itself in the form of complaints that Watchmen is excessively dark and gory. However, gloominess in and of itself doesn’t necessarily constitute a flaw if it serves the story. Similar objections that Watchmen is simply dated due to its setting in the 1980s carry even less weight. After all, in order to make the case against this film, you’d have to admit the same fallacy of every period piece. At first glance, The Incredibles might seem like a period film, but upon closer inspection, the actual time in which the movie is set is left ambiguous in the theatrical version. The story of Mr. Incredible and his family takes place in an idealized version of suburbia peppered with an abundance of anachronisms to amplify the wistfulness factor.
The fact is that we’re dealing with two films: one an attempt to directly translate an original concept for the screen; another based on a satirized form of the initial concept. You’d be dealing with pretty much the same set of circumstances comparing a recent cover version of a Velvet Underground song to a Weird Al Yankovic parody of the original. That isn’t to say that The Incredibles isn’t a stellar film and a work of art (as should be clear to those who’ve seen by X Box Live avatar). The world that shapes, and is shaped by, the story is simply 180 degrees from the setting of Watchmen. There are many valid reasons for this divergence, but the primary explanation is the simple fact that Watchmen was published first. A product of the Cold War paranoia that dominated the time of its conception, all its characters have to look forward to is the looming dread of inevitable nuclear war–a sentiment shared by many of its readers. Arriving after the fact, The Incredibles presents an equally topical criticism of our own times. The omnipresent threat of global annihilation has long since given way to a pervasive sense of malaise that in many ways represents the anticlimax at the end of the Cold War. Instead of a world taken to the brink by superheroic meddling, it’s a stultified, mundane existence where only the reemergence of superheroes can overthrow the universal enforecement of mediocrity.
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