Sam Raimireally wanted to make a movie about The Shadow or Batman, but when the powers-that-be told him “absolutely not,” he invented his own superhero and made a movie about that guy instead.Darkman, which celebrates its 30th anniversary this year, draws elements from both of those characters and from early gothic horror movies likeThe Phantom of the Operato create one of the most unique comic book movies ever made. Its bizarre marriage of operatic drama, slapstick comedy, and genuine pathos set the framework for Raimi’s laterSpider-Mantrilogy, which in turn provided Marvel a perfect blueprint for the tone and spirit of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Yes, I’m making the argument that the MCU wouldn’t have existed without that lipless skeletal hero, the Darkman. And yes, it will sort of make sense by the end of this piece.
The first instinct of modern comic book movies was to try and repeat the success of 1989’sBatman, which is why we saw a weirdly darkTeenage Mutant Ninja Turtlesmovie and the grotesque Oscar-nominated fever dream that isDick Tracythe very next year.Darkmanwas also released in 1990, and while it definitely borrows things fromBatmanin terms of the character’s look and a score byDanny Elfman, everything else is infused with Raimi’s trademark chaotic energy. Raimi cannot resist injecting Stoogian slapstick even in what might be his darkest film, and we can see in the frenetic, silly qualities ofDarkmanthe nascent pieces of what would ultimately make up Raimi’s ludicrously successfulSpider-Mantrilogy. It’s a grim movie, but Darkman himself is prone to moments of zany morbidity and downright wackiness that remind us not to take the whole thing too seriously. (See: the scene in which he gallops like a Looney Tunes character over oncoming traffic while dangling from a helicopter.) Comic books mean a specific thing to Raimi, and in the stylized frames ofDarkmanyou can see him experimenting with pulp, over-the-top storytelling. 12 years later, Raimi madeSpider-Manlike the 60s comic he remembered, with operatic melodrama, intrinsic goofiness, and an appealing main character we actually care about. (Batman is many things, but he has yet to be an interesting protagonist in anything except maybeBatman Begins.) Those are the same core elements he started playing around with inDarkman, and inSpider-Manhe steers into them like he’s spinning out on a patch of black ice.
There are identical sequences inDarkmanandSpider-Man. The montages in which Peyton succumbs to his anger mimic the panel of a comic book in which several dialogue balloons and visual manifestations representing the hero’s internal struggle are present on the page, swirling around him in the ether. Raimi applies this same technique to represent the radioactive spider venom transforming Peter Parker’s DNA inSpider-Man. (Raimi is a fan of this surreal style of montage in general, as it appears in several of his films includingThe Evil Deadseries andThe Quick and the Dead.) Spider-Man is certainly a more cheerful person than Darkman, but they’re both likeable characters with relatable pathologies that derive an ironic enjoyment out of their circumstances. That quality is present in just about every single hero in the MCU, because it’s something that successfully connects audiences to a character more than any flashy costume or set of super powers ever could. We like our superheroes to have human vulnerabilities and a sense of humor. That’s why when fans talk about their favorite MCU heroes on social media, they refer to “Tony” and “Steve” and “Natasha” rather than Iron Man, Captain America, or Black Widow.
There were plenty of other comic book movies in betweenDarkmanandSpider-Man, but the heavy gloom style ofTim Burton’sBatmandidn’t last much longer. After the somewhat disastrous reception ofBatman Returns, which received several complaints from parents about being too frightening and grotesque and subsequently lost Warner Bros. a lucrative tie-in deal with McDonald’s, theBatmanfranchise took a hard right turn into neon camp withBatman ForeverandBatman and Robin.Joel Schumacher’s films deserve some credit in their own right for being fun parodies more in-line with the 1960sBatmanTV series, but the disappointing reception ofBatman and Robinput the future of comic book movies in jeopardy.Bladedemonstrated that comic book movies could be successful again after the initialBatmanseries had run its course.X-Menshowed that there was a big-enough audience for a major studio to put serious money into comic book adaptations. But Blade himself isn’t much of a character beyond being a super cool dude who kills vampires in a trenchcoat and sunglasses, and outside ofHugh Jackman’s Wolverine and the relationship between Professor X and Magneto, there are no actual characters in theX-Menmovies. Seriously, tell me anything aboutJamesMarsden’s Cyclops beyond “he shoots lasers out of his eyes.”Spider-Manwas the film that proved superhero movies could be record-breaking tentpole blockbusters. That movie made over $800 million in a period when a haul like that happened a few times a decade at best. Now it happens several times a year, and almost always involves a superhero. And when you watchDarkman, you can see Raimi creating the building blocks that would makeSpider-Mansuch a refreshingly new kind of blockbuster.
After Spider-Manwas released, some comic book films tried to do a weird marriage of Raimi’s comedic style with the oldBatmanformula, which resulted in supreme whiffs likeDaredevilandGhost Rider. These attempts at “serious” superhero movies applied a typical action movie trope in which all the fun is had by the supporting cast while the main character is forced to be stoic and grim all the time. The important thing that Raimi realized with his comic book films is that the hero needs to be the one who is having fun and genuinely excited to be there.Ben Affleck’s Daredevil is a mopey buzzkill, and I could not tell you a single character trait of Johnny Blaze’s beyond “Nicolas Cagewears a delightful hairpiece.”
Darkman’s Peyton Westlake isn’t having fun, per se, but he isn’t saddled with a comic sidekick or a snarky love interest. He delivers all of the film’s comedy, via a few one-liners and slapstick moments, and by being a joyously hammyLiam Neeson. He’s the most interesting character to watch, which is something everyBatmanfilm loses sight of. Batman takes a backseat to his supporting cast (particularly the villains), because he’s a humorless gargoyle who sucks all the fun out of the room. That’s not to say that Batman can’t be interesting (the trailer for the upcomingThe Batmanlooks like it’s leaning into Batman being an unhinged street vigilante closer toMichael DouglasinFalling Downthan the growling bore that wasChristian Bale, and I cannot wait to see that interpretation), but it’s much easier to get your audience invested when the hero is actually the fun one to watch. Darkman is the equivalent ofHeath Ledger’s Joker in that I literally do not care about anything happening in the film when he isn’t on screen, which thankfully doesn’t happen often because Raimi recognizes this fact. He later applies this thinking to theSpider-Mantrilogy. The first two films make an engaging, compelling character out of Peter Parker. We actually care about his story and we care about what happens to him, and he’s also entertaining to watch (if for no other reason than the extremely goofy facesTobey Maguiremakes in any given scene while the universe continues to ruthlessly crap on him). The villains in those first two films are also charismatic, especiallyAlfred Molina’s Doctor Octopus, but it’s an even balance. It’s not all tipped in one direction, like it is inThe Dark KnightorIron Man 2. (To be clear, I’m talking about the snoozefest that wasMickey RourkeinIron Man 2. I would never say anything negative aboutSam Rockwell.)
The Marvel movies applied Raimi’s thinking.Jon Favreau(who ironically played the comic relief character in Ben Affleck’sDaredevil) made Tony Stark both the hero and the comic relief in 2008’sIron Man. He’s the character we can’t get enough of, thanks to both Favreau’s decisions as a filmmaker and a career-revitalizing performance byRobert Downey Jr. Iron Man set the tone for the entire MCU, and when it’s at its best, the MCU films feature fun, engaging heroes battling compelling villains. (There are exceptions to this, such asThor: The Dark World, in which an extremely sourpussed Thor fights Goth Rumpelstiltskin.)
The humanity and goofy energy of Raimi’s comic book heroes is one of the most important stepping stones on the way to the modern superhero blockbuster. It’s ok for the heroes to not be serious all the time, because what they’re doing is kind of ridiculous and both the characters and the filmmakers have to be a little self-aware about it. Raimi crafted the bones of that idea withDarkmanand then perfected it withSpider-Man, and Favreau wisely decided to follow his example withIron Manrather than dip back into theBatmanformula that so many other superhero movies had tried to emulate. (It took three dismal movies and a frantic course-correct for the DCEU to realize that maybe only Batman needs to be as dark and gloomy as Batman.) Ironically,Darkmandeserves some of the credit for steering superhero movies away from dour overseriousness, which is no small praise for a movie in which Liam Neeson’s scorched revenant shovesTed Raimi’s head into traffic.
Tom Reimann is an Associate Editor at Collider and you cannot prove he isn’t merely just another face of the Darkman. Follow him on Twitter @startthemachine.
