Logan: A Milestone Superhero Film

On-screen adaptations of comic book superhero stories have been around for decades, but the 2008 release of Iron Man and the growth of the Marvel Cinematic Universe kick-started a generation of blockbusters with superheroes at its core. It’s impossible to go more than a month or two without the release of a new entry into the canon. And while most of these films are hollow reiterations of the same action tropes – relying on beautiful stars and overbearing special effects – Hollywood occasionally produces a masterpiece within the framework of the genre.

Logan is one such masterpiece. Arguably one of the best superhero films of all time and certainly the best X-Men film since X2, the film is reminiscent of last year’s Deadpool, flipping the worn out superhero genre on its head.

After a decade of confusing timelines and alternate continuities, Logan brings the X-Men franchise back to its base. The film deals with concepts that much of the genre seems to forgotten, tackling complex themes you’d never find in an Avengers movie.

The film explores ideas of mortality and pain that Hugh Jackman’s previous solo outing, The Wolverine, introduced. In the year 2029, a visibly aged Logan (who has long given up the mantle of Wolverine) struggles with the slow and steady degradation of his powers. Meanwhile, Patrick Stewart’s equally decrepit Charles Xavier struggles with dementia and seizures.

Embedded in a brutally realistic and vaguely dystopic future, Logan asks uses the framework of the superhero film to ask relevant and timeless questions: what are the psychological and physical effects of aging? What happens when the most powerful mind in the world begins to break down? What happens when the immortal becomes mortal?

Much like Deadpool the film understands where it’s come from. It understands the tangled mess that the X-Men franchise has become, and does not try to resolve it. Where Deadpool addressed this issue with humour, Logan does so with cold, hard reality. Logan exposes the man behind the curtain, highlights the writer’s hand that is so often the curse of the superhero genre. Logan is grounded in reality more than any genre film to be released in the last few years.

In this way, the film tackles issues we’ve all had with the superhero genre. Of course it’s rewarding to see Iron Man fight off a hundred robots and then meet up with Thor, but is that really plausible? Is it really plausible that after 14 films, there hasn’t been a single major character death in the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

Logan calls bullshit. At one point, it is revealed that the young Laura is a fan of the in-universe X-Men comics. Logan’s reaction to the fictionalization of his stories is suitably cynical: “Maybe a quarter of it happened, and not like this.”

Indeed, if we lived in a world with super humans, it would not be a polished and clean one. It would be dirty and scarred, imperfect as our own. Logan knows this.

Logan takes our expectations of the genre – and our disillusionment with it – and crushes them beneath a clawed heel. There are no city-levelling battles, no clash of titans. Stadiums don’t fly and there are no robots. The Wolverine does not fight ninjas. Yes, the film uses its R-rating to the fullest potential, letting Wolverine show us what he is capable of; there is plenty of brutalization and dismemberment, in shocking yet somehow beautiful detail. But these scenes are window dressing. They are not where Logan’s weight lies.

No. Logan’s conflicts are far deeper, far more poignant.

In real life, people die. Mistakes are made. Conflicts are not resolved by the time the credits role. Sometimes, the heroes are not good people. Stories rarely have neat resolutions, and even rarer are those solutions happy ones.

Logan does not have a happy ending. And that’s okay. Because life doesn’t have a happy ending.

Ultimately a beautifully poignant character piece, the movie’s strength lies in the interplay between the two leading actors. In their swan song, both Jackman and Stewart offer their best performances yet, giving new dimensions to their characters as Logan struggles to continue taking care of himself and his mentor. Logan shows how apparently inhuman characters deal with intensely human problems. 

By giving us relatable themes of aging and loss, Logan shows us the true potential of the superhero genre. The struggle of Logan and Charles is our struggle. We all have ghosts, and we all have secrets.

One day, we all lose our powers.

Logan is a story about one man’s attempts to come to terms with the things he has witnessed, what he’s done. An attempt to find purpose in an existence that has become meaningless.

Isn’t that something we can all relate to?

Logan represents the way forward for a genre that has become stymied. It joins the canon of great genre films and, hopefully, marks what we will see in the years to come.

I’m sad to see Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart go. I’ll miss their iterations of their characters. But their time was up, and this movie was the perfect way to say goodbye.

Beautiful, powerful, a masterpiece of cinema: for realizing the limits – and therefore the potential – of its genre, Logan is one of the best films I’ve seen in years.

We cannot buy into myths about Canadian exceptionalism

At the beginning of last month, the New York Times ran an opinion piece by Nicholas Kristof lauding the Canadian attitude towards refugees, referring to Canada as “the one great exception” to an international community that is steadily turning its back to refugees and immigrants. Given events in Europe and America, it’s easy to imagine Canada as a last bastion against intolerance. Examples like the government’s promise to spend $28 million on Yazidi refugees and Justin Trudeau’s charming publicity pieces make it easy to give a face to Canadian exceptionalism.

It is important that Canadians look past that face.

It is certainly true that Canadian attitudes towards refugees have been generally more favourable than much of the world in recent months, particularly when one makes a direct comparison to our southern neighbour. Just look at Ben Carson’s recent comments that conflate slaves and immigrants. No wonder the months that Donald Trump has been president have seen a dramatic increase in the number of immigrants crossing the U.S. – Canadian border.

There is a danger, however, that this continued presentation of Canada as a quasi-utopian space may lead to Canadians being desensitized to the problems inherent in our own country.

Canada, as a nation, is often misunderstood by much of the world. Simply google Canada, and one will find a wealth of entertaining and rarely accurate stereotypes. The great white north is often seen as a singular mass of friendly semi-Americans who live in igloos and apologize for everything.

While this image, like most stereotypes, is probably based on a degree of truth, it contributes to a dangerous single narrative in which Canadians consist of a single one-dimensional characteristic: their acceptance. The fact that many Canadians seem to buy into this narrative about themselves only increases its danger.

To paint all Canadians with a single brushstroke – in the case of refugees and immigrants, “accepting” seems to be the buzzword being applied – is a mistake consistently made by much of the world exemplified by the Kristof article. Canada is a vast country with a population of some 35 million and a landmass smaller than only Russia. The diversity of Canada’s population is reflected in the diversity of opinion held by Canadians.

Consider the issue of refugees. As I’ve said already, Canadians are ostensibly, and probably on average of late, more accepting of outsiders than the United States; our official policies of multiculturalism and history of liberal leadership speak to a national disposition that is generally accepting of minorities.

Yet it is a stretch to say that Canada is “leading the free world.” To claim that Canada is the sole exception to a pattern of intolerance is perilously simplistic and irresponsible.

Such claims are incongruent with Canada’s history of racialized immigration policy and the ongoing mistreatment of First Nations communities. Sure, we now have Justin Trudeau, a prime minister whose views on immigration and multiculturalism seem to be generally geared towards acceptance. But let’s not forget that two years ago the man in the PM’s seat was advocating policies that were culturally isolationist if not downright racist. Also consider the fact that the idealism that swept Trudeau in the office has very much dissipated.

Canada has yet to elect a Trump-like figure, yet many Canadians are expressing the desire for to have our own swamp drained of both political corruption and ethnic diversity. The rise of Kevin O’Leary as a possible standard bearer for a Canadian populist movement presents a terrifying potential for the next election. The press received by the Canadian business mogul has very much mirrored the press received by Donald Trump back in 2015, with a steady increase in political engagement preceding a run for office.

A recent study conducted by McGill University determined that Canadian attitudes towards immigration are not as exceptional as many imagine. The study argues that perceived Canadian exceptionalism is largely due to the fact that the country’s political system has not suffered any large degree of stress from immigration issues. What happens when the steadily brewing resentment towards outsiders becomes the central issue of national politics? The results of this study seem to suggest that a serious anti-immigration movement is not unlikely over the next few years.

This brings me back to the Kristof article. Certainly it is nice for the world to have a place like Canada to imagine as a pillar of acceptance, yet it is important for Canadians themselves not to buy into this sentiment. Canada is not immune to the wave of prejudice and isolationism that has swept the western world. Increasingly, Canadians (particularly those in rural areas) are turning towards a misplaced sense of isolationism and nationalism.

Canadians need to be aware of the prejudices of their country, and the prejudices they themselves may hold. We need to avoid complacency, and we need to avoid accepting assumptions about our nation’s own moral infallibility.

If we do not do so, we will end up with a Trump of our own. And that’s just the beginning.