Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
When one takes a look at the “released films” section of the Wikipedia article about these DC animated releases, The Death of Superman is listed as the 33rd film, with Reign of the Supermen coming in at number 34. But if you go to those two entries’ individual pages, Death is listed at number 33 while Reign is listed at the 35th. For anyone familiar with comics, this kind of inexact numbering is pretty standard; comic book publishers are constantly having to tread a thin line between giving longtime fans a feeling of legacy, which keeps them coming back for more, while also not wanting to frighten off new readers who might see Batman #338 and have too much of a sense of archive/continuity panic. As a result, there are constant reboots and rebrands (of which the New 52, from which this project draws its name, is merely one of dozens), re-numberings that take a PhD to understand, and ultimately, confusion. If you’re wondering what the missing 34th film in this franchise is, it’s this one, which began its life as a webseries that sort-of continued the story from the live action NBC Constantine series, before it was edited together into a single cohesive story. Of course, right around that same time, Matt Ryan’s portrayal of the character was imported whole cloth into the larger “Arrowverse” following a very well-received cameo in Arrow, ultimately becoming a recurring character in the season of Legends of Tomorrow that was airing when this “film” released, and became a main character from the next season onward. That series did a version of the classic Constantine origin story about the lost soul of a little girl, Astra, who was damned because of a young Johnny Constantine’s hubris, and it conflicts with this one, so it’s anyone’s guess if this is connected to anything else at this point, and whether that matters to anyone but me and the perhaps eight or nine other people who have seen both this and Legends. And that’s before you even consider if this is connected to Justice League Dark, considering that that Constantine is also voiced by Matt Ryan. To paraphrase Chinatown, forget it — it’s comic books.
We open in a flashback showing a young John Constantine (Ryan) being held in a mental institution following the “Newcastle Incident,” although we only later learn what this means. He’s visited by his childhood friend, Chas Chandler (Damian O’Hare), who is disappointed to discover that Constantine is still fiddling about with magic, even after what happened. Constantine then awakes in the present, where he faces off against a horde of tiny homunculi that share his face, albeit cast ghastly and demonic. He at first tries to fight them before realizing that as “his demons,” he has to let them back inside of him, and own his mistakes and regrets (subtle!). He is reunited with Chas, who begs him to come and check on his comatose daughter, saying that medical science can’t provide any answers about her condition and begging the beleaguered wizard to pursue a magical solution. Long story short, the girl’s spirit is being held captive by a demon that draws Constantine to Los Angeles; John does so, with Chas in tow, while leaving the girl’s body in the care of an inhuman spirit known as the “Night Nurse” (Laura Bailey). In L.A., he confronts Beroul, the demon who has Chas’s daughter captive; Beroul summoned Constantine because he wants to rule L.A., and he can’t do that with five other demons also jockeying for the same position. If Constantine gets rid of them, the girl will go free, and the film’s plot revolves around John trying to outthink Beroul and take down the beast himself as well as his enemies without killing Chas’s daughter, all while being both helped and hindered by a mysterious entity known as “Angela,” a kind of apotheotic representation of the city itself who can observe and communicate with him via possessing the metropolis’s citizens.
I had pretty high praise for the hellish grotesqueries that we got to see in Justice League vs. Teen Titans (and more muted appreciation for the same in the aforementioned Justice League Dark), and there are some really cool character designs here that help spruce up what is a noticeably more cheaply animated product than the norm. The version of Constantine’s backstory in this one is that John and Chas learned that their mentor was planning to use his daughter, Astra, in a spell that would cost the girl her life. John and Chas storm in and the former summons a real demon, Nergal, who kills their mentor and his gathered cultists, but who dragged Astra back to Hell with him when he disappeared. Nergal has a cool design: a kind of horned, winged serpent that stands upright as if his upper torso were the hood of a cobra. The designs of the five demons whom Beroul demands Constantine destroy, on the other hand, are pretty rote; my inner Miranda Priestly commented “Mouths for eyes? Groundbreaking.” Beroul himself is somewhere in the middle; he’s a pretty basic gluttony demon thing that you’ve seen a hundred times, but he inhabits the more atmospheric parts of the story. Beroul captures starry-eyed arrivals in the City of Angels (get it?) and then forces them into individual hells that take the form of different movie “eras,” where they are then tortured, eviscerated, etc. because that’s what demons do. It’s a fine enough conceit, and Beroul’s barbary is creepy even if his design is underwhelming (he’s working on filling an entire swimming pool with human viscera in which he will submerge himself, and he consumes human flesh with abandon). The Night Nurse is also fun, especially when she lets down her humanoid disguise as a sexy nurse with mummy-wrapped arms and shows off her real face. The best design by far is the Aztec death god Mictlāntēcutli, which is a real piece of art. The visual storytelling for him is strong, as you can see that he is decayed from years of being starved of worship (he is only able to survive by living beneath a slaughterhouse and feeding on the deaths of pigs and cattle) but that he was once strong. I won’t pretend that it doesn’t feel appropriative to use the death god of a colonized people (at present, most Nahua people practice Catholicism, another of Europe’s scars on the world), and I have no interest in making excuses for it, but I am obligated to tell you that he’s really cool here.
I liked the ending of this one. It’s pretty cliche to have the solution to a demonic possession be “love,” but it’s effective here because said love is a consumable resource. Constantine channeled Chas and his wife’s love for their daughter into his final spell, causing both of them to forget Chas, but that wasn’t enough; John had to use his and Chas’s fraternal love as well, costing him a bond that went all the way back to their boyhoods in Liverpool. For a man with so few emotional anchors to the world, losing one of his strongest is another awful thing happening to the world’s unluckiest magician. The tragedy of it resonates more than it has the right to, and that worked for me on an emotional level, especially as it comes on the heels of Constantine finally finding some redemption for the errors of his youth in refusing to be tempted to save Astra instead at the cost of Chas’s daughter. That the film ends with Constantine starting the journey back to London accompanied by one of his manifested homunculi demons is bittersweet; the day has been saved, for now, and Constantine seems to have found some solace in this, but he’s still a man with no one to keep him company but his own demons. Not too shabby for something that was produced for the CW Seed.
A core member of the Swampflix crew is in need, so we are taking a break from our usual movie blogging & podcasting routine to do a little community fundraising. Britnee’s good friend has created a GoFundMe donation page to aid in her medical & financial recovery from a recent cancer diagnosis, which you can find here: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-britnee-overcome-breast-cancer-challenges
As the fundraiser explains, “Britnee expects to use any funds for:
Remaining insurance out of pocket maximum for 2024: $2,215.07 Out of pocket maximum insurance for 2025: $4,000.00 6 months cost of living @ $2,000 / month: $12,000.00 (rent, groceries, utilities, cost of care for her best friend, Anouk, pictured with her above) Miscellaneous expenses associated with wigs, clothing, surgery recovery, chemo comfort needs, food delivery, rideshare when needed, prescription medications.”
Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
Now that we’re over two-thirds of the way through this project, while watching the first fifteen minutes or so of Wonder Woman: Bloodlines, I started to think about how I would be ranking all of these once I’ve seen and completed my reviews of all of them (a day that I dream about like Maximus hovering his hand over a field of wheat in his dreams in Gladiator, as I will at last know peace). The number of these films and their groupings of stratified quality mean that I can’t simply sit down and write a top-to-bottom list like I recently did of the Coen Brothers’ films, so I started to think of them as existing in more of a tiered list. I broke it down into five groups, from worst to best: (1) Garbage; (2) Fine, I Guess; (3) Solid But Unexceptional; (4) Possesses Some Notable Quality or Sophistication; (5) Cinema, Baby. During the opening scenes of this film, which are set an uncertain number of years before the primary body of the narrative, we get a condensed version of the Wonder Woman origin story. Pilot Steve Trevor (Jeffrey Donovan) crashes into the ocean near Themyscira, an island full of warrior Amazons, and is rescued by the island’s princess, Diana (Rosario Dawson). She opts to return him to “man’s world,” and in this version, she does so in rebellion against her mother, Queen Hippolyta (Cree Summer), who tells her daughter that she no longer recognizes her and, while she can take Trevor home, her treasonous actions mean that she can never return.
Stateside, Diana meets Etta Candy (Adrienne C. Moore), Trevor’s boss (I think?), who helps her get set up in a new home with an archaeologist, Professor Julia Kapatelis (Nia Vardalos), and her daughter Vanessa (Marie Avgeropoulos). Vanessa is entering that part of adolescence where the youth forsake their native tongues and speak only in sarcasm, and she is at first miffed that there’s suddenly a new woman in their home (and a princess to boot), but she and Diana start to bond over their shared backgrounds as the daughters of demanding mothers. Unfortunately, Julia is an academic of ancient times who suddenly has a demigoddess who is steeped in myth and legend under her roof, and we see in montage that she becomes inattentive to her daughter’s needs, causing Vanessa to grow resentful of both her mother and their guest, acting out by going goth and shaving half of her head, as one does. Diana, in all of this, tries to remain supportive of and give comfort to Vanessa, never realizing that her constant presence is one of the roots of the problem. This culminates in Diana becoming a public figure as Wonder Woman and moving out of the Kapatelis home before we skip to the film’s “present,” wherein Diana is working with Candy and a now-bearded Trevor when she is approached by Julia again; she’s discovered that Vanessa has stolen from her employer, pharmaceutical magnate Veronica Cale, and is planning to sell a pilfered artifact to villainous Dr. Poison. Wanting to help, Diana goes to try and stop the sale, which is (of course) happening in a warehouse and there are (of course) minions with machine guns, and although her intervention probably saves Vanessa’s life, Julia is killed. Vanessa, furious that about the death of a mother who should not have been there, blames Diana solely for this, and aligns herself with Dr. Poison and her partner, Dr. Cyber, to get revenge.
During that montage sequence mentioned above, there’s a lot of storytelling that happens purely through visuals, which is a nice touch that many of these films lack. We get a clear idea of what Vanessa’s childhood bedroom looks like before her goth-punk phase, and it’s a normal teenage girl’s bedroom: glowing stars on the ceiling, artwork of flowers and butterflies, books about teen vampire romance. At the midpoint of her transition to half-shaved rebel, her room changes, too, with her wooden headboard replaced with a wrought iron one that resembles the arch of a gothic church window, there’s a bust of a dragon on top of her dresser, and her wall features at least one poster with a skull on it. It’s not the most elaborate form of visual storytelling, but demonstrates an attention to detail that’s noteworthy here. I also find this dynamic between Diana, Julia, and Vanessa to be one of the more compelling and unusually sophisticated ones. While Vanessa’s blind lashing out at Diana following Julia’s death is hypocritical, as the only reason that the entire situation occurred was because Vanessa—manipulated or not—was willing to commit corporate espionage, but she’s also not wrong that Julia should not have been present at the scene, and it was a bad idea to bring her there. You can see all of the resentment and rage that built up inside of her over the past decade, as Diana’s attempts to extend an olive branch to Vanessa as she becomes more bitter about it only make the situation worse.
When it comes to emotional complications in these movies, it’s rare to see one that isn’t a de facto part of the genre — questioning if and when to reveal one’s secret identity to a loved one, the extent of responsibility that a vigilante figure possesses when they inspire counteractivity in the form of escalating violence, etc. This emotional conflict is unique in these films, and that the movie is able to further complicate this by making it about the relationship between mothers and daughters, not only between Diana and Hippolyta as well as Vanessa and Julia, but also the bond that forms between Diana and Julia, one that falls outside of the title-referent “bloodlines.” That interruption and supplanting of the maternal relationship between Vanessa and Julia is the impetus for everything that transpires, and it’s nice that the conflict is born out of something so human and familiar rather than an alien invasion, a plot by a secretive cabal of socialites, warlords of the distant future, or the nefarious activities of an island of ninjas. Even though this one devolves into the same old battle at the end (one which is fine but suffers in comparison to the dynamic and interesting fluid action of Reign of the Supermen), that core human conflict makes it rise above the “Solid But Unexceptional” category into “Possessed a Notable Sophistication.”
At the end of this year, Swampflix will be celebrating its 10th anniversary as a movie review website. To celebrate, we’ve attempted to create something the world has never seen before: a definitive list of the 100 greatest movies of all time. Kidding, of course. This is well-trodden territory for any film criticism publication, most notably including the BFI’s Sight & Sound list dating back to the 1950s. The difference is that Sight & Sound polls over 1,000 professional film critics and filmmakers to compile their Top 100 list, whereas we only have six active contributors. Hopefully, this means our list reflects our personal tastes & passions among the more standard consensus picks for The Greatest Films of All Time, since less than 20% of our titles overlapped with Sight & Sound‘s most recent poll in 2022.
We created this list in two quick rounds of voting & ranking among our six active contributors in March of 2024, followed by a brief period of ensuring that every film listed had been covered on the site via either podcast or written review. You can find blurbs for every film listed on the new official landing page of The Swampflix Top 100, or you can find more fleshed-out reviews of each film by clicking the links below. We love movies, we love working on this website, and we hope that love shines through to anyone who follows along.
1. House(1977) – “The best thing about haunted house movies is the third-act release of tension where there are no rules and every feature of the house goes haywire all at once, not just the ghosts. The reason this is the height of the genre is that it doesn’t wait to get to the good stuff; it doesn’t even wait to get to the house. It’s all haywire all the time, totally unrestrained.”
2. The Night of the Hunter (1955) – “A classic tale of good versus evil, love versus hate. The black and white cinematography drives home the point with its sharp dynamic lighting. It’s chilling, uncanny and even ruthless at times, but it also has so many makings of a good fairy tale: lost children, evil stepparents, and even a fairy godmother in the end.”
3. The Wizard of Oz (1939) – “Blatant in its artificiality at every turn, yet through some kind of dark movie magic fools you into seeing beyond its closed sets into an endless, beautifully hellish realm. I’m sure there were plenty musicals released in 1939 that have been forgotten by time, but it’s no mystery why this is the one that has endured as an esteemed classic. Even when staring directly at the seams where the 3D set design meets the painted backdrop of an endless landscape, I see another world, not a mural on the wall. It’s the closest thing I can recall to lucid dreaming, an experience that can be accessed by the push of the play button.”
4. Videodrome(1983) – “‘The battle for the mind of North America will be fought in the video arena: The Videodrome. The television screen is the retina of the mind’s eye. Therefore, the television screen is part of the physical structure of the brain. Therefore, whatever appears on the television screen emerges as raw experience for those who watch it. Therefore, television is reality, and reality is less than television.’
I lie awake at night wondering what Brian O’Blivion would make of TikTok.”
5. Tampopo(1985) – “Hailed as the first ‘ramen western’ (a play on the term ‘spaghetti Western’), Tampopo takes that designation to its most extremely literal end, focusing on the title character’s ramen shop as the location of metaphorical quick-draws and high noon showdowns, as well incorporating a variety of loosely connected comedy sketches about food.”
6. 3 Women (1977) – “This feels like a huge departure from what I’ve come to expect from a Robert Altman picture. I’m much more used to seeing him in his big cast/overlapping dialogue mode this is a much more insular, cerebral experience than that. I wish he had tackled this kind of eerie, dreamlike, horror-adjacent material more often (see also: Images, That Cold Day in the Park); he’s damn good at it.”
7. Moonstruck (1987) – “On a short list of classics that I can rewatch at any time no questions asked, especially if I’m feeling low. Come to think of it, Mermaids & The Witches of Eastwick are also on that list, so maybe I just seek comfort in Cher’s curls.”
8. The Red Shoes (1948) – “The centerpiece nightmare ballet is maybe the most gorgeous cinema has ever been. If nothing else, it’s unquestionably the most gorgeous that the color red has ever looked onscreen, which is appropriate since it’s right there in the title.”
9. Peeping Tom (1960) – “It’s near impossible to gauge just how shocking or morally incongruous this must’ve been in 1960, especially in the opening scenes where old men are shown purchasing pornography in the same corner stores where young girls buy themselves candy for comedic effect, and the protagonist/killer is introduced secretly filming a sex worker under his trench coat before moving in for his first kill. Premiering the same year as Hitchcock’s Psycho and predating the birth of giallo & the slasher in 1962’s Blood & Black Lace, this was undeniably ahead of its time. A prescient ancestor to the countless slashers to follow, Powell’s classic is a sleek, beautifully crafted work that should’ve been met with accolades & rapturous applause instead of the prudish dismissal it sadly received.”
10. Sunset Boulevard (1950) – “Not sure why Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? is universally cited as the kickstart to the psychobiddy genre while this is fabulously campy/draggy in almost the exact same way (love them both). Anyways, it’s a masterpiece, but you already knew that.”
26. Possession (1981) – “With a title like Possession and the heavy synths in the opening theme, it’d be reasonable to expect a straight-forward 80s zombie or vampire flick, but the film refuses to be pinned down so easily. If Possession were to be understood as a creature feature, the monster in question would be the coldness of romantic separation. When a character supposes early in the film, ‘Maybe all couples go through this’ it seems like a reasonable claim. The bitterness of divorce, loneliness, and adulterous desire then devolve into a supernatural ugliness. The main couple frantically move about Berlin as if drunk or suffering seizures, downright possessed by their romantic misery. Their own motion & inner turmoil is more of a violent threat than the film’s most menacing blood-soaked monsters or electric carving knives.”
51. Don’t Look Now (1973) – “A delectable head-scratcher. For a movie with such clear themes & purposeful imagery, it’s difficult to parse out exactly what it was getting at with its conclusion, which is definitely part of the charm. Reminded me of many great works of its era, but most of all Fulci’s The Psychic. Would gladly watch it a few more times to continue to puzzle at it, which I suppose is the highest praise you can lay on any film.”
76. Boogie Nights (1997) – “Even more so than Goodfellas, this has cinema’s clearest distinction between its story’s Fuck Around era (the 1970s) and his Find Out era (the 1980s), down to the minute.”
Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
Jeph Loeb is an interesting figure in comics. After a couple of notable writing credits in the 80s (including the script of the original Michael J. Fox Teen Wolf and a “story by” credit for the Schwarzenegger vehicle Commando), he went on to pen some of the best mainstream comic book material that the medium had to offer in the decade before and after the turn of the millennium. Batman: The Long Halloween was a particularly seminal work that had a profound impact on the public’s relationship with the character in both the short term (as it was very popular in its day) and the long term (as an influence on the Nolan films about the character, which created a world that we’re all still living in the fallout of). Like today’s topic, Long Halloween also got an adaptation in one of these movies and thus will get its own discussion in the coming months, don’t you worry. He also wrote the Superman/Batman arcs that Public Enemies and Apocalypse are based upon, and he was the driving narrative force for the Supergirl series that comic spun off in 2005, about which I have spoken positively in the past. Outside of DC, he’s fairly well known for his work on X-Men projects as well as stories related to the Hulk, including the creation of Red Hulk, and he still worked on TV and film projects, including involvement with the first season of Heroes at the same time that he was writing Supergirl; he ended up co-executive producing 56 episodes of that, 12 episodes of Lost, and 66 episodes of Smallville. That’s before you get into the fact that he was one of the creative forces behind the pre-Disney+ era of Marvel’s TV wing; he exec-produced 18 episodes of Agent Carter, 26 episodes of Luke Cage, 23 episodes of Iron Fist, 24 episodes of The Punisher, 39 episodes each of Jessica Jones and Daredevil, and 136 episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Hush was released in 2002, and was a smash hit at the time, critically and commercially. Penned by Loeb and with art from Batman superstar Jim Lee, the comic was a nice bit of mystery, playing with the introduction of a new villain—the titular Hush—whose machinations to take on the Dark Knight involved manipulation of several other longtime Bat-antagonists. This gave the new villain some instant credibility for a late addition to the rogues gallery. All this is to say that, for many, Loeb is a sacred cow. This is a man who has had a foot in each of the worlds of four color and Technicolor for decades, and who has shaped what that medium and its associated adaptations have meant, quite a lot. For that reason, there are people who can be a bit … let’s say “precious” about his work and its adaptations, and this film adaptation of Hush was no exception. Of course, as someone who read Marvel’s Ultimates 3 (2008) and Ultimatum (2009) as they were published, the two comics that, alongside DC’s Final Crisis (2008) and the one-two punch of Marvel’s Civil War (2007) and Secret Invasion (2008), were the reason that I stopped reading comics, I’m not going to die on any hills for him.
The film opens with Bruce Wayne (Jason O’Mara) headed for a black-tie function, where he encounters Selina Kyle (Jennifer Morrison), with whom he has some romantic tension in both his identities, although she remains unaware that Bruce and Batman are one and the same. It’s been a few years since she last was involved with any criminal activity and, perhaps because the Bruce of this continuity was privy to the internal conflict Clark experienced about telling Lois his secret in Death of Superman, Bruce considers whether it’s time for his own confession. Their flirtation is twice interrupted, first by the sudden appearance of Bruce’s childhood friend, a nationally renowned neurosurgeon named Thomas Eliot (Maury Sterling), then by a call from Alfred regarding the kidnapping of a child by Bane; the latter of these prompts Bruce to depart. He confronts Bane and saves the boy, but he sees Catwoman escaping with the missing ransom and pursues her, with interference from an unknown third party wrapped in bandages and wearing a trenchcoat resulting in Batman falling to the streets and being badly injured. After Alfred and Nightwing (Sean Maher) craft a cover story involving playboy Bruce Wayne getting involved in a car accident (and sending Batgirl off to wrap one of the Wayne estate’s many expensive cars around a tree), they take him to see Dr. Thomas Eliot, who manages to stabilize him. When he awakes, Bruce commits to being a better friend to Thomas in a tender scene, while the doctor remains wryly amused at the situation, notably mentioning that Bruce isn’t even the most notorious patient he’s had; he exits the room with a smirk. Gee, I wonder who this new villain could be under all that mummy wrap?
Except … Thomas Eliot is not Hush (as we will soon learn that this new criminal mastermind is named), as was the case in the comic. Here, the man behind all of these actions is someone else entirely. We’ll come back to that, but first, one of the other major status quo changes that the 2002 comic ushered in was that, from that point forward, Catwoman would be aware that Bruce was Batman. This happens in the film as in the comic as Bruce reveals himself to Selina, following on the heels of the revelation that Catwoman (as well as others, including Bane) have been made unwitting pawns via applied use of Poison Ivy’s mind control pheromones. Bruce decides to bring her in on everything, and she becomes an effective, if less selfless, member of the Bat team. The way that we see this play out initially is a nice bit of foreshadowing, as the duo of Batman and Catwoman follow Ivy’s trail to Metropolis, which results in them having to face off against an Ivy-puppeted Superman. Batman is convinced that, even under pheromone control, some semblance of the person being controlled is able to use their willpower to mitigate what they are being forced to do; he has Selina kidnap Lois Lane and take her to the top of the Daily Planet building in the hopes that this will break through Clark’s mind control. When it doesn’t, Selina throws Lois off, which does finally cause Clark to break free and save her, and while Bruce takes the heat for this from Clark, his later conversation with Selina confirms that he told her explicitly not to let Lois fall.
Selena’s lack of the same (perhaps self destructive) moral code that compels Bruce to attempt to save the lives of his foes even at the risk of his own comes back around in the end. In the climax, Bruce manages to catch Hush with one of his infamous grappling lines before the latter can fall to his fiery death, but the building is coming apart around them and Selina isn’t willing to put herself or her lover to the test to save a killer. She performs the cold calculus of cutting a rope and letting Hush fall so that they can escape certain death rather than complete a performative pyrrhic moral victory. Ultimately, this is what prevents the couple from remaining together, and this shifting of assumptions makes for a more interesting story than if things had been perfect for them, even if you (like me) kinda ship it. This is a slightly more sophisticated story than a lot of these others, because the relationship dynamics are more mature than what normally comes down this pipeline. It’s not Hitchcock’s Notorious or anything, but it’s noteworthy, even if it’s not breaking any molds.
That breakup happens at the end of Loeb’s Hush as well, albeit with the slightest of differences, The big departure, as noted above, is that Thomas Eliot is revealed not to be Hush, although this Hush was a patient of his, and Eliot ends up suffering the consequences of not being able to live up to his reputation as a miracle worker with this person. I won’t spoil who this turns out to be (if you must be spoiled, Wikipedia can do that for you, but I would suggest going in blind even if I’ve already revealed that it doesn’t stick to the source material’s choice), but it’s an interesting and fun choice, even if you’re already familiar with the comic. This was, of course, something that people got up in arms about, but I’m pleased with it. The impulse for a mystery to be solved exactly the same way in an adaptation as in the original text is a boring one, and a preference for strict adherence to canon rather than pleasant surprise at a novel addition to the experience reflects a shallowness of imagination, if you ask me.
I’m reasonably certain that I gave this a sort of half-assed watch sometime during the early days of quarantine, which lines up with the timeline of when it would have hit streaming. As such, and not really thinking about it at the time as a part of an ongoing story, I thought at the time that this one functioned suitably as a standalone adaptation of Hush, as I didn’t even realize it as being of a piece with a larger continuity. Watching it now, I’m surprised that I didn’t find it odd that we had a handful of check-ins with minor characters who feel completely extraneous without some foundational knowledge about this subfranchise. I’m reasonably pleased that we had a final check-in with, for instance, Damian, as I don’t expect him to play much of a role in the upcoming Wonder Woman: Bloodlines or the “series finale” of Justice League Dark: Apocalypse War, but it also feels like a stumbling block for anyone who might see this in a Redbox without context and decide to rent it. Like the comics themselves, this “DCAMU” (I’m so looking forward to no longer taking psychic damage every time I type that acronym) has gotten too self-referential to grow its audience, which is why we’re headed for that inevitable reboot after just two more installments. Although these movies have risen above the median a few times, there’s a lack of richness in the storytelling that elevates the rare number of these DTV animated products to be anything more than cynically driven cash-ins here. Damian’s scene is just a cute little cameo with a couple of quips thrown in, but with the knowledge that these halcyon days coming to an end, I can’t help but think that it’s annoying they made yet another Batman movie when it might have been nice to see another Justice League movie, or checked in on the Teen Titans one last time; they keep being mentioned as doing something offscreen, but are never involved.
I suppose that’s why this one is a bit of a mixed bag critically, especially in comparison to the original comic. For people who are interested in the larger storyline of this universe, this is a fine story, but nothing to write home about, while those who are interested in the film as an adaptation are largely represented in the discourse by people who were dissatisfied with the extent of its faithfulness. I appreciated that this one did something that this series hadn’t really done before and fully committed to making a film that could be slotted into “romance” as a genre, but it’s not one that I foresee myself giving much thought in the future.
Our current Movie of the Month, 1968’s The Swimmer, stars Burt Lancaster as an aging suburban playboy who, on a whim, decides to “swim home” by visiting a string of friends’ backyard pools across his wealthy East Coast neighborhood. It’s a boldly vapid premise that New Hollywood button-pusher Frank Perry (along with his then-wife Eleanor Perry, who wrote the majority of his early screenplays) somehow molded into a low-key mindmelter of 1960s moral rot through an eerie, matter-of-fact sense of surrealism. The Swimmer is more of a quirky character piece than it is concerned with the internal logic of its supernatural plot. Instead of only traveling by the “continuous” “river” of swimming pools he initially envisions over his morning cocktail, Lancaster spends much of the runtime galloping alongside horses, leisurely walking through forests, and crossing highway traffic barefoot. He does often emerge from one borrowed swimming pool to the next, though, and along the way we dig deeper into the ugliness of his himbo playboy lifestyle. He starts the film as a masterful charmer, seducing the world (or at least the world’s wives and mistresses) with an infectious swinging-60s bravado. By the time he swims his last pool, we recognize him as a miserable piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to kiss the feet of the infinite wonderful women of his past whom we meet along the way. The overall result is sinisterly ludicrous beefcake melodrama, presented in lurid Technicolor.
I can’t think of a better time to revisit The Swimmer than now. Not only was its general film-nerd awareness boosted during its brief run on the Criterion Channel earlier this year, but it’s also been so brutally, unrelentingly hot outside that all I want to do is look at, dive into, and drown in swimming pools. Every day that I have to take the bus or walk home from work in the Carribean hell heat of downtown New Orleans, I imagine how wonderful it would be if I could swim my way across the city in an endless line of swimming pools instead, just like in Perry’s film. Unfortunately, even Lancaster’s decrepit playboy protagonist couldn’t pull that off without cutting some corners on-foot, so his swimming-home dream remains unachievable. However, I have been able to swim my way across several other movies in the same milieu as The Swimmer: intense psychological dramas centered around summertime sex, booze and, of course, swimming pools. So, here are a few more titles in that subgenre to check out in addition to our Movie of the Month.
La Piscine (The Swimming Pool, 1969)
There’s no telling how the over-the-hill playboy Ned sees himself in The Swimmer, but it might look a little like 1960s Alain Delon. Delon was in his prime when he filmed his own poolside psych drama La Piscine, but his outer beauty does little to conceal the inner ugliness he shares with Lancaster in The Swimmer. The film opens with Delon lounging half-naked poolside, barely lifting his head to sip his cocktail, then initiating sex with his girlfriend the second she’s within butt-swatting reach. The couple are enjoying a horny, lazy vacation in South France before the reverie is interrupted the arrival of her ex-boyfriend and his teenage daughter, played by a young Jane Birkin. Tensions quickly rise as it’s immediately apparent that everyone in the makeshift foursome is attracted to exactly the wrong person, threatening to escalate the volatile group dynamic with physical violence if anyone acts on their obvious, mutual desire.
La Piscine is not especially exciting as a psychological crime thriller, but it still excels as deliriously overheated summertime hedonism. It feels like the entire cast is always seconds away from either a poolside orgy or an afternoon nap, and they’re all too miserable to enjoy either option. It’s a real shame for all involved that the tension is released through violence instead of orgasm. Before that act of violence (which takes place in the titular pool, of course), they lounge around a true summertime Eden, soaking up the oversaturated Eastman Color sunshine of a gorgeous, chic European locale. There have been plenty of erotic dramas & thrillers over the years that have taken direct influence from La Piscine, but the director I found myself thinking of most was Luca Guadagnino, who borrowed its summertime color palette for Call Me By Your Name and its plot for A Bigger Splash (another classic in Swimming Pool Cinema).
Swimming Pool (2003)
Luca Guadagnino is not the only European hedonist to have floated a soft remake of La Piscine. François Ozon’s 2003 erotic thriller Swimming Pool is so directly influenced by La Piscine that it barely bothered to change the title. Charlotte Rampling stars as an uptight pulp mystery writer in need of inspiration, vacationing at another Southern French villa with its own backyard swimming pool. Once there, she becomes obsessed with the sex life of a local twentysomething who has frequent, loud fuck sessions just one bedroom wall away. The two mismatched women quickly develop a catty, petty roommate rivalry that, again, escalates to a shocking act of violence involving the swimming pool just outside their bedroom windows. Swimming Pool works really well as a poolside erotic thriller (telegraphing some of the best aspects of Ozon’s Double Lover), but it works even better as a repressed-Brits-vs-the-liberated-French cultural differences comedy, as Rampling struggles to adjust to the local hedonism.
The differences between the two women’s personalities are plainly delineated by how they interact with the titular swimming pool. While the younger roomie is content to swim in the pool without any leaf-skimming or PH maintenance, Rampling coldly declares “I absolutely loathe swimming pools” as a way to imply only a filthy beast would swim in that Petri dish. It’s the difference between someone who truly lives and someone who only writes about people who live, a difference that Ozon sketches out with a sly smirk by the final reveal. He also has a lot of fun playing with the wavy mirror surface of the pool water, reflecting and abstracting Rampling’s obsessive gaze as she ogles the half-naked youth swimming & fucking just outside her own bedroom.
Deep End (1970)
If all of these suburban & provincial swim sites make the other swimming pool dramas on this list a little difficult to relate to as an urbanite in need of cooling off, dive into Jerzy Skolimowski’s Deep End instead. Set in downtown Swinging 60s London, Deep End follows the mouthbreather exploits of a horny teenager who falls for his older coworker in an urban bathhouse, to both of their perils. The story gradually establishes a hierarchy of low-level sex work from bathhouse-attendant tips to porno theater cruising sites to strip clubs and actual, true-blue brothels, but the bathhouse’s swimming pool is ultimately its main source of leisure and its main site of violence, as is customary to the genre. As the teen’s older, street-wiser coworker, Jane Asher might be the most inspired “Risk it all for her” casting in the history of the practice; she could easily make a chump out of anyone. Still, it’s incredibly bleak watching the ways the poorly socialized lout conspires to sexually corner her so that he can lose his virginity with his boyhood crush. It probably says something that when he does finally corner her in the deep end of the central pool, it’s been entirely drained of water. It’s eerily empty.
All four of these movies involve sex between adults and nearby youth. All involve heavy drinking and physical violence, usually poolside. No wonder this year’s January horror novelty Night Swim found so much to be scared of just beneath the surface of its backyard suburban swimming hole. Pools are not just an excuse to get half-naked & cool off in a semi-social setting. They’re also deadly, with just as much threat of drowning as threat of spontaneous sex & merriment.
Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
At the end of my review of Reign of the Supermen, I mentioned that, given DC’s tendency to milk every udder until it bleeds, it’s possible that the “DCAMU” may one day return following the yet-to-be-reviewed Justice League Dark: Apokalips War that serves as the mini-franchise’s finale. After all, who would have thought that, nearly thirteen years after the 2006 finale of Justice League Unlimited, there would be another installment in the DC Animated Universe that we all knew and loved (I have decided that I must align myself with the camp that does not count that other thing). In 2019, Warner Animation released Justice League vs. The Fatal Five, a continuation of sorts from JLU, and honestly? I love it.
We open in the 31st Century, where some members of the Legion of Superheroes attempt to hold off several villains as they attempt to steal a bubble-shaped time machine. A future, heroic version of Brainiac attempts to upload a virus to the time craft so that even if they fail to stop the bad guys, they won’t be able to get aboard and get up to their temporal shenanigans. The trio of villains gets past him just as the upload hits 99%, and they are able to get away, although not without a stowaway, Thomas “Star Boy” Kallor (Elyes Gabel), who travels on the outside of the time sphere and manages to get the upload complete, imprisoning the villains within as the sphere falls to earth in the 21st Century, as does Star Boy. While Superman (George Newbern) and Wonder Woman (Susan Eisenberg) save civilians from the falling ship, Star Boy lands and realizes that his supply of medication, which he needs to take periodically to stabilize his thoughts and clear his mind, has been destroyed. He goes in search of a replacement at a nearby pharmacy only to realize too late that there is no equivalent in this time period; in the process of attempting to get help, he disrobes because he thinks that the pharmacist is frightened by his costume. As one would expect when a naked man appears in a pharmacy in the middle of the night demanding a medication that does not exist and talking about being from a different time, the authorities become involved, and Batman (Kevin Conroy) ultimately appears on the scene, too, taking the temporally displaced babbler to Arkham, while the locked sphere is taken to Justice League headquarters for analysis.
After a ten month time jump, we meet our new additions to the League since we last saw them, lo these many years ago. At JL HQ, Mr. Terrific (Kevin Michael Richardson), a supergenius gadgeteer hero is working to unlock the mysterious sphere. In the field, Batman is training/testing Miss Martian (Daniela Bobadilla), niece of team member Martian Manhunter, to see if she’s ready to join the team. Finally and most interestingly, we meet Jessica Cruz (Diane Guerrero), a woman who, while hiking with some friends in the Pacific Northwest, stumbled upon a mafia burial; her friends were executed in front of her and she managed to escape, but now suffers from extreme agoraphobia. She also happens to be Earth’s most recent recruit into the Green Lantern Corps, and it’s her that the villains from the future are after. You see, the titular Fatal Five were defeated in their own time, ten centuries hence, and the heroes of the future could think of no way to properly incarcerate their most powerful member except to send her into the past, when the Green Lantern Corps still existed, so that they could lock her up there. When Terrific and Superman finally crack the enigma of the time sphere, the three freed villains can now seek out Jessica to use her as the key to free their incarcerated companions and become the Fatal Five once more.
Within the first five minutes of the movie, as I mentioned above, we get to see the power trio of the Justice League again, and I have to tell you, I was not expecting to have the emotional reaction to this that I did. I imprinted on the nineties animated Batman at a very young age (I have very distinct memories of running down our very long driveway from the bus after kindergarten to watch it on Baton Rouge’s FOX affiliate, WGMB, and can even remember specific images and episodes), and I grew up with that franchise and its associated media like Justice League and Justice League Unlimited. I was nineteen when JLU ended, so this version of these characters were very formative for me. When Superman saves a child from being obliterated by the falling time ship and commends the kid for his courage but tells him that it’s okay to run sometimes, and then Wonder Woman appears next to him, and they play that electric guitar riff (you know, the one from like fifteen seconds into the JLU opening theme), I actually got a little verklempt.
I also really like that the group we know and love is still together, and still gaining new members, and that this expanded runtime allows the story to center in on Jessica, to deal straightforwardly with her PTSD and her agoraphobia, and to allow her to bond with this timelost hero of the future over their dual psychological issues. Although it would have been nice to see Flash, Manhunter, or some of the other characters that we haven’t seen in a long time, the absence of John Stewart, the Green Lantern from the TV show (an absence that is explained by the fact that Lanterns are dealing with a major issue in deep space, which also handily explains why the prison break on their headquarters world meets such little resistance) means that we get to spend a lot of time with Jessica, and I really liked her. She’s ultimately this film’s main character, as she is the one who undergoes dynamic change and growth over the course of the narrative, up to and including facing her fears in her darkest hour and ultimately forging herself into something stronger as a result. To a lesser extent, we get to spend some time with Miss Martian, a character who was still largely unknown at the time that JLU went off the air (she would become more prominent after the character was one of the main cast in Young Justice), and it’s fun to see her in this animation style; she’s very cute, and I like her characterization in this narrative.
On an extratextual note, this one is also special because it’s the last time that the late Kevin Conroy voiced his iconic role. After JLU’s conclusion, he voiced the character in several of these animated releases: Gotham Knight, Public Enemies, Apocalypse, Doom, Flashpoint Paradox, Assault on Arkham, and The Killing Joke, but this was the first time that he was reprising this Batman, with this design, the one that I grew up with and the one that I love most. Conroy passed away in 2022 after a private battle with cancer, and although archive audio (I assume) was used in one of these animated films that was released just this year, this 2019 release is the last time that he really got to play this part. It’s made all the more touching that there is a sequence in which Batman, Jessica, and Miss Martian enter Star Boy’s mind and see the future there, which includes a museum dedicated to the founders of the Justice League (and in which Jessica sees a statue of herself, which helps her to understand her place in all of this and gives her the confidence that she needs to keep picking herself up again). Here, Batman gazes upon a memorial to himself, some hundred decades into the future, and although there’s no change in his attitude, it’s a loving (if coincidental) tribute to Conroy as well, who will forever be my Batman. May he rest in peace.
Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
Following on the heels of The Death of Superman, this film picks up six months later. Despite the appearance of four heirs apparent to the mantle of the Man of Steel, crime in Metropolis is on the rise. Who are these mystery men? There’s the youthful “Metropolis Kid” (who insists he is the new Superman but is nicknamed “Superboy”), a teen with Superman’s powers; there’s the more “energy projection” less “physical punching” Last Son of Krypton (who is later dubbed “The Eradicator” because of his catchphrase that “[X] must be eradicated”), who practices a less nuanced view of morality and justice than the Superman we knew and loved; there’s a new Man of Steel as embodied by super-scientist John Henry Irons in a mech suit (you know him as “Steel”); and finally, claiming to be the real Superman reanimated and undergoing ongoing repair by Kryptonian technology, there’s a half-mechanical Man of Tomorrow, a “Cyborg Superman,” if you will. In the midst of all of this, Lois and the Kents are forced to veil their grief, as “Clark” is simply “missing,” while they alone know that Superman and Clark were buried in the same coffin, although that resting place has been disturbed and the body of the late Kryptonian is missing . . .
I was surprised how much I ended up enjoying this one. The last film was little more than set-up for this one, and to be honest, there was more foreshadowing in that one that paid off here than even I realized. For instance, I did mention that there was a tour that Lois took of the lab where Kal-El’s ship was being stored and that there were holograms that were part of that ship’s records, but I didn’t imagine at the time that this was laying the groundwork for one of the false heirs, Eradicator, to actually be a hologram from the ship, one that we got to see in the first film. It had also been a while since we saw Kal-El and Diana dating, so the reminder in Death that they had a past not only contributed to the reality of their close friendship in that film, but also laid groundwork for some really nice interaction between Diana and Lois. That’s a level of detail I didn’t expect to see, and was pleasantly surprised by. These movies usually run half the length of their MCU “counterparts,” so there’s a lot less of the casual hanging out that characterizes those films and which were such an important component in that series becoming as popular as it did at its height. They run leaner and sparser, but the decision to split this overarching story into two films serves both but does this one a lot of good (that this one is 87 minutes, one of the longer of these animated features, also helps). There’s room to breathe, and there came a moment in the film where I thought to myself “Wow, a lot sure has happened in this one,” which is not something that often crosses my mind during these screenings.
There are a lot of touches here that I really like. Superboy is initially pretty obnoxious, but the revelation that he picks up his cringeworthy slang from nineties sitcoms makes it a little more tolerable, and there’s an unusually subtle animation choice that works as a nice piece of foreshadowing; the supposed clone of Superman does not share the hero’s blue eyes, and his eyes are instead grey, like Luthor’s, which makes sense when we later learn that Lex’s DNA was added to the mix. That’s an uncommon level of attention to detail for these movies, and it did not go unnoticed in this household. The misdirect regarding the Fortress of Solitude caretaker robots referring to “Kal-El” absorbing energy while the camera pans past Eradicator is a nice one too; although we in the audience know that he’s not the real Superman, it still creates an air of mystery as to why his robots would think that Eradicator was, until it’s revealed that this was the audience’s confusion, not theirs. The scenes between Lois and Irons are also a lot of fun as she, a woman infamous for not seeing through the thinnest of disguises, says that his civilian cover isn’t very good. As the most straightforwardly heroic of the potential new Supermen, he feels like a good addition to this universe, alongside Superboy, who is a lot more fun once the narrative stops making him such a horndog.
Within the narrative, there’s a really nice escalation of stakes when a visit from the president (who bears a marked resemblance to Hillary Clinton, which, um) to the site of the launch of the Justice League’s new Watchtower satellite. The Cyborg Superman, who has just spent some time trying to convince Lois that he’s the real Supes—just with really extensive prosthetics and some memory loss—mostly stands by when a boom tube portal opens and several of Darkseid’s minions, called “parademons,” exit and start to attack the site. Although the combined forces of the League and the Supermen are enough to fight off the parademons, the portal through which they arrived “falls” to the earth and appears to kill the League, leaving only a crater. From there, it’s revealed that the Cyborg Superman is none other than Hank Henshaw, the presumed dead astronaut from part one, who was “rescued” by Darkseid so that he could be an emissary. He begins to hand out devices that give normal people superpowers, although this is a feint intended to use the newly empowered individuals to help bring Darkseid’s forces to earth. And, of course, the real Superman, who has been slowly recovering inside of his pod, emerges just in time to resume the fight, although he’s initially too weak to do much fighting, until the Watchtower is launched and the sun rises, and … well, the rest is history.
Everyone gets a moment to shine here, which is nice. I was surprised by how emotionally invested I had become by the time of this film’s climax, and the moment when Steel and Superboy team up to distract the assimilated Darkseid army was surprisingly potent; I didn’t pump my fist in the air, but I did get a big smile on my face, despite the fact that the fight scenes in these movies are rarely that exciting to me. Lois gets to have her face-off with the man who claimed to be her dead lover, and even Lex gets a rare moment of heroism when he manages to activate a portal that allows the Justice League to return from the purgatory dimension they were stuck in and act as the cavalry in the final battle. The fight scenes themselves are some of the best that these movies have had to offer, too, with more fluid and dynamic motion than these films have mustered, giving a slightly anime-esque feel that I appreciated. I was ultimately pretty taken aback at just how well this one worked, both as a film unto itself and as a part of this subfranchise, and it really stands out. If I had to make a complaint, it’s that there’s an extratextual piece of information that makes this feel somewhat abortive. There are only three of these “DCAMU” films left, one of which is a Batman feature (of course), one of which is a Wonder Woman movie (the first since 2009’s Wonder Woman, ten years and thirty-three films prior), and a Justice League Dark sequel to serve as the finale. It doesn’t really feel like there’s going to be another chance to check in on Superboy and Steel, which is a bit of a bummer, as they really helped with the feeling that this franchise still had a lot of room to grow and expand, and they were fun characters with the potential for some really fascinating storytelling. Of course, if there’s anything about DC that’s proven to be true over the years, it’s that they will squeeze every last drop out of their IP and then grind the dust to make break if they can, so it’s possible that these last three won’t be the last three, but I won’t be holding my breath. This is a high note for one of the last few installments, and I’d give it a chance, especially if you can combine it as a double feature with its predecessor.
Every month one of us makes the rest of the crew watch a movie they’ve never seen before, and we discuss it afterwards. This month Brandon made Britnee & Boomer watch The Swimmer (1968).
Brandon: I first discovered the surreal 60s melodrama The Swimmer when we covered director Frank Perry’s late-career mainstream comedy Hello Again for a previous Movie of the Month. I watched a few great films from Perry that month, but the dream-state machismo of this one in particular has constantly been on my mind in the few years since. Even so, I can’t think of a better time to revisit The Swimmer than now. Not only was its film-nerd awareness boosted during its brief run on the Criterion Channel earlier this year, but it’s also been so brutally, unrelentingly hot outside that all I want to do is look at, dive into, and drown in swimming pools. Every day that I have to take the bus or walk home from work in the Caribbean hell heat of downtown New Orleans, I like to imagine how wonderful it would be if I could swim my way across the city in an endless line of swimming pools instead, just like in Perry’s film. It really put a different spin on those awful “Proud to swim home” bumper stickers that littered the city in the years after Hurricane Katrina.
On a less whimsical note, The Swimmer has also taken on some additional relevance for me this US presidential election season. There’s something about watching a delusional egotist refuse to face the reality of his age and his social responsibilities until he crashes into it like a brick wall that just “hits different” this year. A past-his-prime Burt Lancaster stars as that titular egotist: a functional alcoholic who relies a little too heavily on his outdated social status as the neighborhood partyboy for a family man of his middle age. He spends the entire movie downing cocktails poolside in his signature Speedo, shamelessly flirting with every woman who’s in butt-slapping distance no matter age or marital status. You can’t say he’s a man without ambition, though. On a whim, the suburban hedonist declares that he is going to “swim home” by visiting a string of friends’ backyard pools across his wealthy upstate Connecticut neighborhood. On the journey, we witness the exact moment his carefree hunk status sours among the local socialites, so that he has no friends or family left at the end of his selfish, Quixotic quest for permanent leisure.
The “swimming home” plot of The Swimmer sounds like an absurdly vapid premise for a movie, but Frank Perry (along with then-wife Eleanor Perry, who wrote most of his early screenplays) somehow molds it into a low-key mind-melter of 1960s moral rot. He mostly pulls that off by digging into the aquatic anti-hero’s psyche, charting the progress of the story more through character revelations than through the practical details of the borderline supernatural plot. Instead of only traveling by the “continuous” “river” of swimming pools he initially envisions over his morning cocktail, Lancaster spends a lot of runtime galloping alongside horses, casually strolling through forests, and crossing highway traffic barefoot. He does often emerge from one borrowed swimming pool to the next, though, and along the way we sink deeper into the ugliness of his himbo playboy lifestyle. He starts the film as a masterful charmer, seducing the world (or at least the world’s wives and mistresses) with an infectious swinging-60s bravado. By the time he swims his last pool, we recognize him as a miserable piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to kiss the feet of the infinite wonderful women from his past who we meet along the way. The overall result is sinisterly ludicrous beefcake melodrama, presented in lurid Technicolor.
I do think it’s strange that a movie with such a high-concept premise is so willing to brush aside its own internal logic. Perry could have easily edited the story together so that the pools all appeared connected, without worrying about real-world practicality. What did y’all make of the parts of The Swimmer where Lancaster travels by land instead of by water? Did they feel like a shortcut cheat on his “swimming home” project or were they just as strangely compelling as his dips in the pool?
Britnee: Ned is bonkers, and I absolutely loved watching him unravel among the country club elite. Particularly the hot dog cart scene where Ned fights with the homeowner of the party he crashes about ownership of a hot dog cart. This is Americana!
When thinking about Ned’s swimming pool challenge, having him truly not swim all the way home made watching his misery all the more delightful. He failed his own project where he made the rules; this guy sucks so much. I also really enjoyed all of the wild non-swimming barefoot activities, such as jumping horse hurdles and walking on the road while barefoot. I wasn’t expecting a gore element in this movie, but good God, those feet were torn up.
Boomer: Oh boy, but I did love this one. I have my own affection for the idea of swimming home. For years, my best friend has teased me whenever I look at a body of water and think “I wonder if I could swim in that,” and living where I live now, there are so many beautiful bodies of water that are tempting, especially when the pool in my building often gets too hot in the summer to be refreshing (last year, my neighbor temped it at 92 degrees one August day). Last year, we defused the summer heat by going to a local outdoor watering hole called Jessica Hollis Park, which was wonderful. We would load up the car, head out as a quartet, and spend five to six hours out there in the crisp, cool water from the Colorado River; one friend got a snorkel set for me and I would often spend a couple of those hours just snorkeling and swimming. On one of the last days of summer, while I looked back wistfully as our car climbed the hill, I said that sometimes I wished that I could just live down there, and my best friend said that, while the rest of the party watched me snorkeling, they had joked that “every summer, he gets closer and closer to becoming amphibious.” I never get tired of it. Luckily, unlike Ned, I never have to experience a series of increasingly hostile neighbors and former friends each time that I surface.
What I liked most about this was the tinge of surreal horror that goes on throughout. When we first meet Ned, he emerges from the woods, clad only in his bathing suit, and greets two neighbors who welcome him warmly and affectionately. Even they, however, are surprised by some of the things that he says, particularly when he mentions that he has a desire for his two daughters to have their weddings in the Merrill house one day; this takes them aback and is our first and earliest indication that Ned is, in some way, living in a state of delusion. For the rest of the film, no matter how much time passes, he is insistent on a few precepts, from which he cannot deviate: that he must “swim home” via the pool route, that his daughters are at that very moment playing tennis, and that his wife Lucinda is waiting for him. The first few people whom he encounters take this in stride with little exception, but as he approaches his destination, those he meets are less inclined to partake in the maintenance of his illusions, although they are never able to dissuade him or bring him back to reality. Of particular note is one man who seems to be Ned’s true friend, who tells him about a job that Ned might be right for that could help him get back on his feet, which Ned shrugs off as unnecessary, causing the man to be somewhat offended that Ned thinks he has to maintain his pride and insist that he needs no such thing; to watch him shout “There’s no need to pretend with me,” while Ned runs off with a girl less than half his age, rejecting what may well be his last chance at salvation, is heartbreaking.
I also really loved the way that we get a slow trickle of information about what a fraud and a failure Ned is that slowly turns into a torrent, before ending in a rainstorm so vast that it threatens to consume him. Although this information never shakes his faith in his destination, it does begin to deteriorate his image of himself, so that the sexy, still fit older man who, in the film’s opening scenes, is the envy of his fellow middle aged men and declares that he still feels as athletic and powerful as he did before he took his first drink or had his first smoke (he can even keep pace with a horse!), eventually becomes a limping, tired, cold man whose feet are (as Britnee noted) in bad shape. First, there is the couple that is happy to greet him, then the mother of a man he says was a friend of his, but whom she states he never came to see in the hospital; Ned doesn’t even know that the man, Eric Hammar, seems to have died from his injuries. He happens upon his daughters’ former babysitter, now twenty, and whisks her away, indicating that he’s moving into a place where only the sweetly naive have faith in him, and even the girl’s younger brother seems to find the whole idea of “swimming home” odd and perhaps even sinister. Here, we learn more about just how delusional he is, as he asks the girl, Julie, to come up to the house and babysit, but she knows that his daughters are too old to need that kind of minding. From here, we head to the party where Ned is presented with his last chance to get off of his self-destructive path, as he comes upon the only woman in the film who would be responsive to his advances and the aforementioned friend who tells him about a potential job, but he rejects them both in favor of running off with a woman thirty-five years younger than he is in order to lovebomb her following her confession of a childhood crush on him. He scares her off eventually, and the narrative takes a real turn here, as things become more sinister and we get to see Ned in his worst moment in the film.
There is a moment where Ned comes upon the home of a wealthy nudist couple, just as their chauffeur arrives at the gate. Ned calls out to him using the wrong name, which in part reiterates for us that Ned’s regression into fantasy is also a regression into his past, as if he has a kind of euphoria-induced amnesia of the last few years when everything went wrong. It’s textual that he “forgets” how old his daughters are and that his wife has left him, as well as “not remembering” that one of his “friends” had died, so it’s natural that he might also “not remember” that one of his neighbors had changed employees. Subtextually, however, I think that this is also meant to highlight that Ned is, well, kind of a racist—mistaking one Black employee for another, as he asks the new driver if he ever met his predecessor, and then talks up said predecessor for all of his fine qualities. The new driver (he’s credited as “Halloran’s Chauffeur;” my apologies for not being able to give a name) then asks if the old driver had “natural rhythm,” to which Ned too-quickly replies, which earns him a bit of a side eye and a harrumph. Ned couldn’t tell these two men apart and then tried to ingratiate himself through stereotypes, and although his mental state degrades further, this is the first time that we see him commit a real moral wrong (trespassing and grabassing notwithstanding).
Things just get worse from here, where he ends up at a party where the hostess calls him a gate crasher and insults him, implying a past when Ned was her social better and the Merrills snubbed her and her husband, but that the latter couple is now the one with more social cache and status. After embarrassing himself by throwing a fit over the hot dog wagon that Britnee mentioned, he ends up in the middle of the film’s show-stopping performance from Janice Rule, who reveals herself to be an actress and Ned’s former lover before he ditched her. This is where we learn the most about Ned, and it’s delivered terrifically: he was always a charmer, they had their affair, during which time he only ever took her out where they could blend in and be invisible, before dumping her in a very crowded and hoity-toity place via a bunch of tired old saws about “the duties of a father and a husband,” hoping that she wouldn’t make a scene (she did). It’s great stuff, and reveals to both us and—seemingly—Ned himself that he’s a real cad. Then, emerging from the largest pool yet (after having to degrade himself by begging for fifty cents as well as show an attendant that he had washed between his toes), he’s further humiliated by a grocer and a barshop owner. The barman initially shows sympathy and compassion for Ned while his wife and the grocer taunt him for his wife’s expensive and pretentious tastes, his lack of discipline with his children that has led them to running wild (there’s even a reference to their “wild driving” and an accident that was kept out of the papers, which I interpreted to possibly mean that one of his own children had been responsible for the collision that ultimately killed Eric Hammar), and his unpaid tabs at both establishments. The barman’s wife even degrades the memory of his daughters, saying that the two girls would come in and mock him constantly. First a trickle of information about Ned, then a river, and all of it very bleak and haunting.
One of the things that tickled me most about Ned was his constant referent to “tomorrow.” Every time someone talks about getting together: “Let’s grab lunch tomorrow,” “bring your money because we’re playing golf tomorrow,” “you’ll have to come out and babysit the girls tomorrow,” “come over tomorrow and play tennis with my daughters.” It tells us something interesting about his character, which is that Ned is a man who over-commits, just as he has to the physically demanding “swimming home” idea, just as he wanted to become Julie’s overly devoted lover/mentor/protector (ew) after spending a couple of hours together, just as he has bought too much into the idea that he can make something real if he believes it hard enough. It reminded me of the Popeye character Wimpy, and his classic quote (I guess?) “I’d gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today,” which only got funnier and sadder as he extorted a cup of lemonade from a child by buying it on credit, then later found himself groveling for the entry fee to a public pool. Ned’s problems are always tomorrow’s problems; today, he has to swim home.
Lagniappe
Britnee: I’ve heard wonderful things about The Swimmer for years, but I never had the appetite to watch it. Something about watching Burt Lancaster swim in suburbia for over an hour just didn’t put me in the movie watching mood. Back in my college years, I had to watch Lancaster’s Go Tell the Spartans movie for a history course, and ever since then, I can only see Lancaster as a very tired and very tan macho man in his late 60s/70s film era. In The Swimmer, he is indeed a very tired and very tan macho man, but with a much better flavor (and much worse hair).
Boomer: I would be remiss in my duties if I were not to note that Diana Muldaur appeared in both the original Star Trek series and Star Trek: The Next Generation. In the latter, she spent an entire season as the ship’s doctor while Gates McFadden took some time away from the show (coming back almost immediately after the firing of a producer whose had sexually harassed her). In the former, she played two separate guest characters. I looked them up again to be sure, but this film actually came out during the summer between her two appearances, as she appeared in “Return to Tomorrow” in February 1968, The Swimmer released in May of 1968, and her second ST episode “Is There in Truth No Beauty?” aired in October of 1968. Big year for Muldaur-heads! (It also feels remiss not to note that Joan Rivers is in this movie, as a woman who tells Ned that she doesn’t get the appeal of pools, as they’re “murder on [her] hair.”)
I borrowed the Blu-ray for this one from my local library, and it’s a fun disc. The FBI warning and the “opinions expressed” disclaimer both have this goofy cartoon “water” overlay to make it look like you’re viewing it underwater, which was a novelty that I was surprisingly charmed by. The main menu also has a slickly edited montage of out-of-context scenes and beachy music that set up the feeling that you’re in for a groovy, sexy romp, which this movie definitely isn’t. I can only imagine the reaction of someone who wasn’t already vaguely familiar with the film’s concept picking this off of the shelf or out of a streaming line-up because of the hunky Lancaster on the cover and thinking that’s what they were about to watch, which is also very funny to me. Of course, they probably didn’t want to use the original poster despite the tagline “When you talk about ‘The Swimmer’ will you talk about yourself?” which is an all-timer—legendary—piece of film marketing.
Brandon: Time moves quick, whether or not you move along with it, as our overaged playboy protagonist discovers here. When I revisited The Swimmer for this conversation, Joe Biden was still stubbornly running for President in spite of loud, constant uproar urging him to step aside for someone younger & sharper to lead the Democratic Party. Trained to expect that nothing good ever happens, I assumed he was going to hold onto his delusions of youth & vigor all the way until an easily lost election. A lot has changed since then, but not so much that the film’s themes of a geriatric egotist refusing to cede power despite their obvious mental & moral slippage no longer has resonance in American electoral politics. Hell, as of this posting, there’s still one running for the office of US President.
Next month: Boomer presents Inherit the Wind (1960)
Welcome to The Not-So-New 52, your digital Swampflix comic book (adaptation) newsstand! Starting in 2007, DC Comics and Warner Premiere entered the direct-to-home-video market with animated features, mostly in the form of adaptations of well-received event comics or notable arcs. This Swampflix feature takes its name from the 2011 DC relaunch event “The New 52,” and since there are (roughly) fifty-two of these animated features as of the start of 2024, Boomeris watching them in order from the beginning with weekly reviews of each. So, get out your longboxes and mylar sleeves and get ready for weekly doses of grousing, praise, befuddlement, recommendations, and occasional onomatopoeia as we get animated for over fifteen years of not-so-new comic cartoons.
When I first heard that DC animated had released a film titled The Death of Superman, I wasn’t that surprised. I had, at the time, only recently attempted to watch Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay and had, as I noted in the review of that film, found the opening to be rather tasteless. As a result, when hearing that a new adaptation of Superman’s death was about to be released, I thought, “Didn’t they already do that?” and then thought, “Oh, I guess they’re really just out of ideas.” Now that I’ve watched all of these (so far) in order, I have to say that it was more that this was where an adaptation of that story best slotted into this sub-franchise of the DCAMU, the eleventh of these films overall. It’s a little thin, all things considered, but that’s really because it’s more about setting up the next film than it is about the actual narrative that this adaptation covers. A little comic history: back in the nineties, DC was getting ready to marry Lois and Clark/Superman. However, at the time, the ABC series Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, was currently airing, and they wanted to marry the two characters to one another, but not for at least another season. So, ABC called in a favor and DC came up with a plan to delay the comic marriage of Clark and Lois until it was time for it to happen in the show as well, for synergy. As a result, they came up with the idea to “kill” Superman temporarily and then have a yearlong series of stories in which various characters attempt to fill the void that his death created, before the real deal triumphantly returns to reassume his place. That one little decision on behalf of a mostly forgotten Superman-adjacent primetime TV show is why we’re here today.
Despite their previous appearances together showing them enjoying one another’s company on a few dates, Superman (Jerry O’Connell) and Wonder Woman (Rosario Dawson) are now merely good friends and colleagues, and Superman has taken up dating his beloved Lois Lane (Rebecca Romijn) in his civilian identity as Clark Kent, although he has not yet come out to her as being Superman. Wonder Woman encourages him to do so, and his need to make a decision sooner than later is exacerbated when a meeting of the Justice League reveals that The Flash (Christopher Gorham) is getting married soon, and when Kal-El asks Barry if Iris “knows,” Barry tells him that he revealed his identity to her “ages ago.” Shortly after Superman gives Lois a tour of S.T.A.R. Labs, which houses the spacepod that brought him to earth and which contains holographic records that include an image of his parents, his other family, the Kents, arrive in town and want to meet Lois. Over the course of their dinner, Lois comes to realize that she actually knows almost nothing about her beau, for the first time recognizing how guarded he is around her and wondering what the cause is. She leaves him for the night, and he has a heart to heart with his mother wherein she admits that, at her age, it doesn’t seem like keeping secrets is really all that important anymore.
On the less domestic, more superheroic side of things, we learn that Lex Luthor (Rainn Wilson) has found a way to circumvent his house arrest and is still up to nefarious doings, including attempting to create a clone version of Superman which he can control as well as merging earth and Apokoliptian technology to sell to criminals. Seemingly coincidentally, a “boom tube” wormhole opens not far from the earth, spitting out a misshapen asteroid that starts to fall toward the planet, crashing into the ocean. Several of Aquaman (Matt Lanter)’s guards converge on the undersea crash site at the same time as a Lexcorp submersible. All are slain by a monster that emerges from the wreckage, who then makes his way to land and toward Metropolis, killing every living thing in his path. In the meantime, Clark reveals his secret to Lois, only to be called away to deal with the monster after it takes out the entire rest of the Justice League, although Wonder Woman goes down last and hardest. Clark leaves a note for Lois with his last secret (“I love you”) and then heads out to defeat the monster, while also having to deal with interference from Luthor, who gets involved both because of his ego and because he believes that the monster’s genetics will help him to stabilize the unstable makeup of all the deformed clones he’s hiding in the basement of Lexcorp.
While 2007’s Superman: Doomsday served to condense both the “Death of Superman” and the “Reign of the Supermen” comic arcs into a single movie, this one covers only the former and gives that original narrative some breathing room. I’m torn about the ongoing expansion of the Justice League as it seems to continue to happen largely offscreen and/or in the background. Justice League: Dark showed Hawkman and Martian Manhunter hanging around the League’s headquarters in non-speaking roles, and while Manhunter gets a line this film (voiced by Nyambi Nyambi), it’s strange that we don’t get a sense of camaraderie between the characters in the way that the earliest of these movies did. The relationship between Clark and Diana is strong, but the fact that Superman didn’t even know that the Flash was getting married makes it seem like, although this team is growing in number between movies when we’re not getting to see it, they’re not growing in friendship, and that’s the only reason that anyone would have to remain emotionally invested in this series as it advances. At least this one, since Batman is really and truly powerless against an unstoppable killing machine with no weak points, he gets out of the way and lets Superman take center stage here, although Wonder Woman is no slouch either. That inclusion of the whole League, however, allows for a consistent heightening of the stakes that appropriately ratchets the tension, even if we already know Superman is headed for his death because, you know, the title is at the beginning.
Of course, there are the seeds of the Supermen to come in this one. We see a young super clone being grown in a vat like a Venture brother; we meet Dr. John Henry Irons, who will eventually become Steel; we even get to see a hopeful astronaut named Hank Henshaw remain optimistic that Superman will save his crew even as their ship is pelted by debris from the asteroid’s incursion, killing his wife and their other companions, and even if you don’t know where that’s going, it’s successful as foreshadowing. Those are fun little seeds being planted. As for other things I really like, having O’Connell’s real life spouse voice Lois is a cute little treat, and their great natural chemistry comes through in the performance. Romijn is an underappreciated star, in my opinion, but she’s not given the same potency of material here that Anne Heche had on her plate in Doomsday. The best parts of that movie come after the fight with Doomsday that take up only Act I of that film (and which serves as the final climax of this one), wherein Lois grieves in secret because while the whole world mourns Superman she’s mourning Clark, struggles with her conflicting feelings about seeking comfort with the Kents, who are (as in this one) strangers to her, is initially delighted that Superman seems to have been resurrected only to be devastated by his reserved treatment of her. Romijn’s Lois isn’t given as much to do; the story focuses more on Clark’s internal struggle with whether to tell her his secret than it does on her learning the truth and puzzling out all the implications. When she thinks Clark is going to break up with her, she tells him that she’s absolutely not going to stop coming into the office, as if this eighties-ass Kate & Allie punchline is supposed to be empowering, when instead it besmirches the entire script. Hepburn and Tracy it ain’t. This one is fine. It’s not predictable that some fringe film critic is going to sit down and watch all of these movies week after week; it’s logical to assume that the decade plus between the release of Doomsday and this movie would mean that you probably forgot most of the story beats for this even before they changed up other plot elements, or that Doomsday came out when you were too young to notice these things and now you’re a sophomore or a junior and thus the primary audience for this. (We should never really be under any illusion about that, and recognize that these movies rise above mediocrity at any point is kind of a miracle, to be honest.) This one is above the average for this overall franchise, but it’s missing something special that would push it into a more memorable state. It’s a necessary step in this film series, and thus can’t really be skipped, but it’s one that there’s no real reason to recommend other than for that reason, so take from that what you will.
