Vastly enjoying the latest Doctor Who story, “Human Nature”. The normally manic, modern-London-accented Doctor becomes a gentle human schoolteacher with period-drama BBC Received Pronunciation, falling in love and being normal and being quite happy about it. Except, of course, there’s the small matter of having to save the world every Saturday tea-time.
There’s references to If…., The Shining, Goodbye Mr Chips and most of all, the film Superman II (early 1980s, like most of the greater things in life), where Superman also turns himself into a human.
Obviously, it’s hardly a spoiler to say that Superman gets back to normal by the closing credits, just as we all know The Doctor is going to be himself again in time for ‘Any Dream Will Do’ or whatever programme is on afterwards. But when the story is told well, you believe it as it happens, and you believe that it IS happening.
These days, Superman II is often regarded as the most memorable of the Christopher Reeve films, and I’ve seen it referred to in the likes of The Family Guy cartoon and Russell Brand’s stage routines. Everyone remembers the one with General Zod. And though I have difficulty remembering what I did last week, I can still remember a couple of memorably droll quotes from that film, decades on:
Clark Kent: (on finding out about some terrorists’ plot to blow up the Eiffel Tower) But jeepers, Mr. White, that-that’s terrible!
Perry White: (with heavy irony) Yes. That’s why they call them terrorists.
And when the US President has to kneel before Terence Stamp’s conquering supervillain, General Zod:
President: (despairing for the world) Oh God…
General Zod: Zod.
It’s funnier if you imagine Terence Stamp pronouncing the word ‘Zod’ as only Terence Stamp can do, with his kind of half-camp, half-Shakespearean relish.
But whereas the Doctor opts to become human in order to escape some nasty Time Lord-sniffing aliens, falling in mortal love only by accident; the Man of Steel’s motivations in the 80s film are rather more selfish. He becomes human purely in order to properly love a mortal woman in the first place: Lois Lane.
It seems rather amusing to set this down today, but all of the instances I’ve cried my eyes out at the cinema, one of the biggest was when Superman gave up his powers to snog a girl. The film was new, I was nine or ten years old. As our hero emerged from the Humanizing Chamber and jumped into bed with Ms Lane, it seemed a move worse than suicide – it was a betrayal. When faced with a strict choice between asexual immortality with super-powers and sleeping with a pretty girl for a lifetime, few boys would opt for the latter.
Well, all right, few pre-pubescent boys.
Well, all right, the pre-pubescent me, anyway.
One does wonder about the moral message of such a storyline. It could be interpreted as saying: if you go with girls the world will be dominated by three supervillain overlords in black lycra; comprising Terence Stamp, Servalan from Blake’s Seven‘s stunt double, and a big bearded gay bear.
(Actually, the idea of being dominated by one or preferably all of the above is just the sort of thing certain friends of mine would actually prefer, as opposed to the more conventional likes of marrying Ms Lane, but you get my drift.)
Could Superman II be a message of comfort – that it’s okay for fans of fantasy to never go steady with girls? The unkind joke writes itself.
What I think it does do, along with the current Doctor Who, is build on the theme of the powerful hero doomed to solitude and never getting what they want, which is as old as the Greek and Roman myths. Coupling between the unlike usually leads to trouble – and a great story. From Zeus and his chums, to Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
Consummation turned Ms Buffy’s boyfriend from a kindly ex-vampire into the murderously evil villain he once was. It’s a twist that carries mythical resonance and Angela Carter-esque sexual allegory. You can write a thesis on it, sure, but the main appeal is that it’s a tried and tested tool of good storytelling. Thesis, schmesis, the viewers will be back, the page will be turned. What worked for Ovid in 7 BC works for the writers of Doctor Who in 2007 AD.
Gods in metamorphosis, coupling with mortals, romance and battles – it’s classic stuff, because it’s the stuff of the Classics.
