Tonight TCM airs one of my favorite films of all time, The Adventures of Robin Hood, directed by Michael Curtiz and William Keighly, and starring Errol Flynn in the role that truly cemented his status as a swashbuckling icon after earlier star-making successes like Captain Blood set the stage. Also starring cinematic greats Olivia de Havilland, Basil Rathbone, Alan Hale, Sr., Eugene Pallette, and Claude Rains, The Adventures of Robin Hood stands the test of time despite the fact that Flynn is prancing around in green tights, not looking rugged at all. Or maybe because of that? Later renditions of Robin Hood, including that one with Kevin Costner, tried to make Robin appear, clothing-wise, more as he would have in real life, or so we’re led to believe. And to that I say phooey. Why is everyone so concerned with making everyone look so damn salt of the earth and rugged?
There was a time when we didn’t get so worked up about such things. If one was making an adventure movie about pirates, everyone dressed like we think pirates dress and we all went along for the ride. Well, actually with pirates, that still applies. Okay, how about superheroes? If the movie was about a superhero, we didn’t question why they wore pairs of briefs over their pants, we just went with it. Then at some point, we decided (well I didn’t but somebody clearly did) that we wanted our action adventure fantasy movies to be more realistic so we had to make Superman’s costume look like a strange form of blue chain-mail in the most recent Man of Steel and, as it appears will be the case, in Batman vs. Superman. In the original X-Men movie, longtime fans of the comic, including myself, were denied the chance to see their classic blue and yellow costumes because it was decided by someone, somewhere, that it just wasn’t cool anymore. I guess. They even make a joking reference to it being uncool in the movie. The thing is, they could just show the costumes, give no explanation at all as to how they got them and everyone would accept it. People will accept anything in a movie if it’s good. They’ll question everything if it’s bad. So in the 1978 version of Superman, when Christopher Reeve goes to the arctic and throws the crystal that creates his Fortress of Solitude and then after a few years of lessons from his holographic dad emerges in a blue costume with red briefs, red boots, and a red cape, no one says, “Hey, wait a minute, where’d that come from?! Who made it?! Why was it designed that way?” No one. No one cares. It’s a good movie and that’s how Superman looks in the comics so let’s just make that how Superman looks in the movie, too.
With Spiderman, fortunately, it’s been a little different. He’s been allowed to keep his costume which is good because seeing him dart around without one would make the movie into more of a strange sci-fi thriller than a superhero movie. In sci-fi/horror thrillers, when someone has a mutation, like David Hedison or Jeff Goldblum in both versions of The Fly, they then don’t decide on a costume to wear and dub themselves Super Fly. Aside from the fact that by the Jeff Goldblum version, the name was already taken, it would diminish the horror of what was happening to him. On the other hand, have someone become part spider, genetically speaking, and throw a costume on them, suddenly we stop thinking about the horrible mutation process and where it might lead and focus on the action.
Batman wasn’t as fortunate. From the start, up to and including Frank Miller’s classic Dark Knight Returns, Batman retained the silver/gray costume with blue/black gloves, cowl, boots, and cape. Then, when the Tim Burton movie was made, it was decided that Batman would look cooler in a single color Kevlar armored suit because that way we once again get rid of people asking why he’s wearing a pair of briefs over his pants. Again, no one asked Superman but maybe they figured everyone would ask Batman. At least the cowl remained intact which we can’t say for Marvel’s Captain America who was forced to switch to a quite awkward looking helmet that covers his eyes. Dear Marvel, put a damn cowl on Captain America now. Thank you.
Sci-fi has many of the same problems. I frankly like it when a sci-fi tale decides everyone wears the same hair style (Vulcans in Star Trek) or sports the same tunics and jumpsuits (Things to Come, Logan’s Run) or just enjoys a good hooded robe when wandering around the desert (Obi-Wan Kenobi). Speaking of Star Wars, there’s a movie that got all of this pretty dead-on right. George Lucas and his artistic designers made sure the tech looked worn in and used, but the stormtroopers had great shiny armored costumes instead of, thankfully, running around in the kind of rubber suit that supposedly made the X-Men look so much cooler than they would have.
I guess, in the end, I like my adventure/fantasy/sci-fi characters to be who they are and not be self-conscious about fitting into the trends of when they’re made. In 100 years, Superman will still look fine because his costume isn’t built around a trendy fashion but around a fantasy of what a superhero should look like. In 100 years – hell, right now! – the X-Men from the 2000 movies will, and do, look so 1990′s. Those black leather leisure suits will have everyone asking, “Why didn’t they just put them in their original costumes?” Why, indeed?