Which 90s Cult Superhero Comedy Had Something Marvel & DC Movies Lack

Surely, someone out there has fond memories attached to the darker-than-dark likes of The Crow, or maybe Spawn, both of which flirted outwardly with heavy metal horror iconography that was incredibly specific to that decade. Or how about the winking, self-conscious camp of something like The Phantom? The scattershot but nevertheless inspired satire of the Ben Stiller-starring Mystery Men? Or, maybe you’re partial to the bleak Gothic majesty and Fritz Lang-inspired visuals of Tim Burton’s Batman pictures, both of which remain genre watermarks that few, if any subsequent superhero epics have yet to eclipse (technically, Burton’s first Batman venture came out in ’89, but we digress).

Marvel and DC Movies Have Become Generic

Long before Blankman, there once was a time when the Marvel Cinematic Universe actually seemed like an exciting prospect. And yet, for the most part, it’s become exceedingly difficult to get genuinely excited about either Marvel or DC offerings these days – largely because these movies have become so generic, and so interchangeable. The recipe has, for better or worse, remained the same: it invariably involves conventionally handsome movie stars donning gawky superhero ‘fits, tossing off the glib, overwritten wisecracks that have become de rigueur for the superhero genre in the wake of the success of the first Iron Man, and occasionally venturing off in search of magic stones, or something. As they say: rinse, lather, repeat.

Every now and then, a Marvel movie will remind us of the magic that initially got people so fired up about these films (last year’s now Oscar-nominated Black Panther: Wakanda Forever certainly wasn’t half bad). By and large, though, these movies are not afforded the luxury of having any kind of identity to speak of. They are not vehicles for filmmakers, writers and actors to test out exciting or challenging ideas; rather, they have become imperonal cinematic puzzle pieces existing in a vast, interconnected, and largely uninteresting superhero multiverse.

‘Blankman’ Spoofs the Modern Superhero Movie

Blankman, for the most part, exists as a broad spoof of the superhero trends that would go on to dominate Hollywood. To be clear, Blankman isn’t a great movie, nor is it even a particularly good one. It’s lumpy and scattered: a collection of halfway-inspired comic ideas and undeniably spirited performances looking for a movie to latch on to. What Blankman is is interesting: particularly by the depressing standards reserved for today’s superhero entertainment, Blankman almost qualifies as a kind of strange success. In spite of its flaws, there’s more live-wire oddball personality flowing through this movie than in the last four Marvel film releases.

Blankman stars Damon Wayans and David Alan Grier, former castmates on In Living Color, as brothers Darryl and Kevin Walker. Kevin, played by Grier, is a luckless schmuck: his life’s philosophy has only enforced the idea that he should keep his head down and work hard, and all this plan has ever afforded him is misery and mediocrity. Darryl, played by Wayans, is his brother’s polar opposite. He’s closer to a prototypical Adam Sandler man-child/nerd character, with his screeching voice, clumsy demeanor, and resilience in the face of bullies and haters. Blankman director Mike Binder, ironically, would go on to direct Sandler in the Don Cheadle co-starring post-9/11 drama Reign Over Me. Darryl, it should be mentioned, is also an inventor: imagine if MacGyver lived in a crime-plagued metropolis, was obsessed with the vintage Batman T.V. show, and dressed in a superhero outfit that was 90% pajamas, and you’re on the right track.

‘Blankman’ Is a Superhero Movie With Political Bite

Unlike today’s superhero films, the sense of danger in Blankman feels surprisingly grounded in reality. Darryl and his brother live in a terrible part of town, where robbery, violent crime, and even unabashed political corruption are daily realities for working-class citizens. One of the movie’s most cutting depictions is reserved for the neighborhood cops, who are portrayed here as inept at best and outwardly harmful at worst. When those who have been entrusted to uphold law and order and keep the local populace safe can’t even do their jobs properly, what’s a loveless D.I.Y. inventor to do? Why, invent the superhero alias “Blankman,” of course, and start cleaning up the neighborhood!

For a movie that’s essentially a goofy, juvenile 90s comedy, Blankman touches on a number of hot-button social issues; whether it does this successfully or not is an entirely separate conversation. The movie is essentially about the act of personal sacrifice that comes with policing one’s own community, that is, without the aid of traditional law enforcement. There is also a subplot about a slick, affable mayor who may or may not be ethically compromised, and also the hotheaded boss of a shameless and exploitative tabloid news network, played by a shrieking, hot-blooded Jason Alexander, of all people. If Binder’s movie, for whatever reason, were to be remade today, one imagines that Alexander’s character might garner some comparisons to someone like Alex Jones.

In its own crude way, Blankman is asking its audience what it even means to be a hero in a world bereft of hope. The tone of Blankman often feels akin to a feature-length SNL flick, but the world that the story unfolds in is pure Larry Cohen: grimy, heightened, and occasionally brutal. Since so many of today’s superhero films lack some fundamental sense of place, it can be hard to even pinpoint what’s at stake in these more polished, often soulless Hollywood products. Of course, people aren’t watching Thor: Love & Thunder for its sense of place, just as people aren’t necessarily going to check out Blankman for any kind of #DefundThePolice critique. That said, it is telling that Binder’s critically maligned cult item feels like a genuine novelty today, if only as a very singular rejoinder to the overwhelming sense of creative anonymity that plagues contemporary superhero entertainment.

Again, we want to be clear that Blankman is no home run. It’s a movie of highs and lows, a movie where the protagonist’s romance with the screenplay’s most prominent female character (the thanklessly conceived part of an attractive T.V. news reporter, gamely played by Robin Givens) goes nowhere. It’s also a movie that manages to sneak in a rather cringe-inducing premature ejaculation gag literally the moment before the end credits roll. In other words, no the movie hasn’t aged perfectly, and that’s not why we’re writing about it today. We’re writing about it because Blankman has one quality in spades that today’s superhero movies are lacking: personality.