Modern epics

Yes, I was among those who queued to get tickets for “Batman v Superman.” Two queues in fact.

The first was in Greenhills, even before the malls opened.  My 6-year-old daughter is the early bird in the family so we did groceries together and made it to the Promenade gates early, only to be greeted by a long line. My daughter whined and suggested I check my iPad if there were shorter lines in other theaters.

She was right, not about the length of lines but about alternatives.  When I did check, I realized Greenhills didn’t have 3D and made the mistake of telling my bodyguard of a daughter, who promptly protested and said we should find one with 3D.

Later that day I was once again in a queue with my daughters, this time at Robinson’s Magnolia, where they do have 3D.

At 1 p.m., I finally got tickets… for the 6 p.m. screening.  (My eldest daughter, who is 11, said we could have orderered tickets online, which we should do next time and that she would help.)

So off we went to run other chores, including two bookstores where the kids looked at me, puzzled, when I asked them to check books out. Why, they asked, was I asking them to look at the books.

“Because we’re in a bookstore,” I sighed, realizing for the umpteenth time that for this generation of kids, bookstores are for pens and ribbons and scotch tape and art supplies and scrapbook materials and everything else—except books.

Black Saturday

As we settled into our theater seats, I felt almost guilty.  It was, after all, Black Saturday.  Remember how TV stations would broadcast on Holy Thursday, mainly Bible and gladiator movies? Then on Good Friday and Black Saturday, there would be nothing but heat and gloom.

Fast forward to 2016 and here I was with my daughters, in a super-cold theater, wearing 3D glasses, waiting to watch “Batman v Superman.”

But as the movie unfolded, my anthropological sensibilities took over. Holy Week is a time for rituals, and here I was with my kids, playing out a modern-day version of what villages used to do: people gathering together to listen to an epic being chanted.

These epics—examples are the Ilokano lam-ang, the Bicol Ibalon, the Maranao Darangan —were so long that they sometimes took days to chant out.  These were recited from memory, each storyteller adding or subtracting details, certainly affected by the times and circumstances they lived in but always going back to core themes, building on the earlier versions.

The epic-telling had many purposes. The epics almost always incorporate a genealogy, tracing back the origins of the tribe or community, often to the gods, way back to some creator or creators of our world.  The epics were about battles, too, speaking of good and evil, of extreme cruelty and of grand compassion. There were heroes and antiheroes, always with superhuman strengths and weaknesses.  In other words, epics were morality plays as well, designed to teach the young, and remind the older ones, about cherished values and traditions.

Some of the epics were converted into theater, enacted and reenacted in all kinds of settings.  I’m thinking of the Indian Ramayana, which spread throughout Asia and even has tourist versions.

You’re probably getting my drift by now.  We tend to associate epics with ancient societies, but we have modern epics as well.  Superman, Batman and Spiderman and many more first found a global audience through DC Marvel comics, and then returned to another generation through the silver screen, 3D at that.

“But aren’t Superman and Batman friends?  Aren’t they both good guys?” my 6-year-old asked about half an hour after the film started. She had clearly been prepared for a good vs evil film and couldn’t understand now who and what was good and evil.

It was tough explaining, in whispers, because the film isn’t just about good guys and bad guys, but about Good and Evil, caps intended.  Was Batman wrong in turning into a vigilante?  Was Superman wrong in playing the superhero rescuing his beloved Lois from terrorists?

The plot became even more complicated as it unfolded with a descendant of the evil Lex Luthor. All the characters here are supposed to be children of the original Marvel comic epic heroes (whew!), all wealthy now, Luxor’s even a scientist.

It did get tiring at times figuring out the different narratives.  Fortunately, my kids weren’t that interested in the plots and subplots, content with the dazzling screen effects. Crudely, this was high-tech epic bakbakan, a show of brute force, not always heroic.

Heroines

I was just happy that the heroes weren’t all men.  Lois Lane is no longer the passive damsel in distress waiting to be rescued; this time around, she nearly loses her life trying to help Superman.

Warning: Earlier in the film, there’s a scene when Superman steps into the bathtub with Lois Lane, I nearly wanted to take off my daughters’ 3-D glasses.  The film did live up to its PG classification.

Anyway, it was good to see Lois Lane as a heroine, without superhuman traits. There was another heroine, a mysterious character who weaves in and out of the film and then comes to the rescue in the battle to end all battles.

“Wonder Woman!” my 6-year-old squealed, and I figured that was enough to redeem the film from its bakbakan.

I realized, too, the film was sort of a Holy Week fare.  These Marvel characters, after all, take up an ancient recurring theme in many societies’ epics: that of the gods becoming human, one powerful version being that of Jesus Christ. In our modern times, it’s babies from another planet, becoming earthlings.

There’s a turning point where Superman has to make a crucial decision of exposing himself to krypton—that terrible green mineral that can kill him. Lois begs him not to, but he is determined to make the supreme sacrifice, which he does in a final epic battle.

I won’t give you the ending (or endings) except to say there are more scenes borrowed from the Holy Week epic, like Superman’s body being brought down from a rock, by two women, Lois Lane and Wonder Woman. In the background, I thought I saw two crosses, or was it just me? And a hint of resurrection?

A few months back, I watched that other modern epic, “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” and there were scenes toward the end when the audience applauded. Now that’s closer to an old-fashioned epic tale, good and evil and everything in between clearly told and retold, Holy Week or not.

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