Fleischer Studios Superman Short Films
“Superman (1941)
The Mechanical Monsters (1941)
Billion Dollar Limited (1942)
The Arctic Giant (1942)
The Bulleteers (1942)
The Magnetic Telescope (1942)
Electric Earthquake (1942)
Volcano (1942)
Terror On The Midway (1942)”
Text By: Basil Swartzfager
Original Publication Date: July 27th, 2014
I recently attended a 35mm retrospective of all nine Fleischer Studios Superman Shorts created for Paramount. Watching the collection all in a row I noticed that nearly every film (save the last, Terror on the Midway), involved a simultaneous fascination with and fear of the technological advances of the modern age. The previous eight all deal with either power-hungry villains exploiting science for destructive purposes or, in the case of The Arctic Giant and Volcano, man’s inability to use science to control the destructive power of nature. So we have the fallibility of science as the problem, and Superman becomes the answer. Superman, a man of genetic perfection, becomes humanity's savior from this technology gone awry.
In these films Superman is positioned not as an alien of unbelievable power, but as a human from another planet whose civilization has enabled him to achieve this unbelievable power. As a narrator describes Superman’s home planet of Krypton, he says, “Their civilization was far advanced, and brought forth a race of supermen, whose mental and physical powers were developed to the absolute peak of human perfection.” This is an odd twist on what could be a rather straightforward explanation. Rather than state that the environment in Krypton is so radically different than our own that every being from the planet would have these powers if they came to Earth (which, if I’m not mistaken, is the explanation offered in later films), the film claims that it is through evolutionary advancement that Superman became the way that he is, and that his genetic code is not necessarily any different than human beings on Earth. This generates a tension between mechanical perfection and genetic perfection, and in these films the genetic always wins. The human defeats the robotic.
These narratives point to a common fear, a fear that continues to this day, that a growth in technology means a loss in humanity. That greed and selfishness will overcome our rationality, and we will abuse our new modern equipment to the detriment of others. The films are full of shots of turbines, levers, dials, and switches, all operated by madmen obsessed with self-gain. Superman, as an antithesis of these figures, becomes an aspirational figure. He always makes the right choice, he always helps the helpless, and his powers do not come from the aid of technology, but from within himself. You, too, can be Superman if you try hard enough.
This aspirational dialogue between character and audience is made transparent during the final frames of each short, which always end with Clark Kent breaking the fourth wall to acknowledge the audience’s complicity in the full story, while Lois Lane and the fictional public are left “mystified.”
Even for stories intended for children these narratives have an uncomfortable simplicity, and manage to reinforce conservative values of individualism and a Randian ideal of the best rising to the top. I can’t be sure of its intention, but there’s an odd narrative beat to all of the films where Superman hesitates before jumping into action. A large amount of destruction always unfolds, as people desperately and uselessly attempt to stymie whatever chaos has been unleashed upon them, before Superman rather indifferently states “This looks like a job for Superman” and swoops in to save the day. Something about the delivery feels unconcerned with the welfare of the people and makes Superman seem more like a father withholding affection rather than a benevolent savior rescuing humanity from demise. While each film is incredibly short, I don’t think it would have cost too much space to invoke a level of moral uncertainty in the character. Perhaps he doesn’t want to get involved, because he wants to believe humans are capable of helping themselves, and he will only step in when he is certain the situation is fully out of hand. The narrative structure implies that to an extent, but that line delivery (probably the same recording every time) makes him a far less sympathetic hero than I think the filmmakers intended, and seems no more human than the single-minded villains he thwarts.
-Basil Swartzfager, 2014
