A DCEUlogy

The Franchise That Started a Cult

Before I was a critic, or a cinephile, or even a filmgoer, I was a fan of DC.

Superheroes have become synonymous with mainstream pop culture, but there was a time when they were considered niche or lower-tier entertainment. It’s hard to pinpoint when the superhero nerds fully broke into mainstream film consciousness. Was it in 2019 when Infinity War and Endgame made characters like Thanos into household names? Was it earlier than that in 2012 when we saw what a successful interconnected film universe looked like? Was it in 2008 with the birth of the MCU itself? What about in the early 00s when Spider-Man and X-Men lit the box office up? You can’t forget about '78’ Superman or '89 Batman either; those were true juggernauts for their eras.

Before I had seen any of these films, I was obsessed with a different comic book universe. Fans know the animated DC shows as the Timmverse. A collection of animated shows featuring DC heroes that all intersect in one way or another. This opened my eyes to a connected universe in which all my favorite heroes would interact. I loved bouncing around from show to show. Justice League Unlimited and Batman: The Animated Series stood out as my favorites, but I watched them all obsessively. These heroes taught me what it meant to be a truly righteous person. They taught me how to trust myself and my moral compass.

I always longed to see this world translated to the big screen. Sure, there were plenty of Superman and Batman films out there, and they’re mostly pretty good. It just wasn’t the same. These worlds felt bare with only one hero occupying them. These characters are iconic in their own right. They don’t necessarily need to interact to be interesting. When they do interact, though, these characters elevate each other to new heights. Batman’s stoicism doesn’t clash with Superman’s optimism; they come together and blend into something beautiful. A majority of these heroes aren’t even from Earth. They realistically owe humanity nothing, yet they risk their lives to defend this strange planet. It’s that type of selfless heroism that draws me to these characters and has kept me with them into adulthood.

The birth of the Marvel Cinematic Universe was an exciting time as a young comic nerd. I was swept into the frenzy like everyone else. I adored 2012’s The Avengers and eagerly awaited the future of this massive new franchise that was being built. Through all the joy and anticipation, there was a nagging feeling in my soul; a longing of sorts. I wished that it was DC instead. I wanted to be watching a Justice League film, but The Avengers was good enough for me.

This is not to say that I wasn’t also a Marvel fan; that would just be a bold-faced lie. Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man films and the ’90s X-Men cartoons were in heavy rotation during my formative years. I deeply connected to these characters, but I wouldn’t say I was deeply connected to their shared world. I’d much rather a solid Spider-Man story with all of his side characters than a story where Spider-Man is a side character among a larger team. It was cool to see Spider-Man interact with the Fantastic Four or Iron Man, but it wasn’t necessarily additive. Whereas anytime a DC crossover happens, it feels monumental to all of the characters involved.

The Nolan films were great, but I was tired of seeing Batman by himself. It may be a childish instinct or a nostalgic bias, but Batman in a world with no Superman (and vice versa) doesn’t make any sense to me. They balance each other and, in turn, the world they share. The DC Universe is vast, but it revolves around those two characters. I think that’s what makes the comic books and the Timmverse so successful. They feature hundreds of characters that all relate to our central characters in some way.

My wish to see the Justice League unite on screen was looking slim for a while. A catastrophically bad Green Lantern film halted the original plans for the DC universe. The failure of the Ryan Reynolds vehicle sent the studio scrambling back to the drawing board. Enter, Zack Snyder. Snyder wasn’t new to DC film adaptations. In 2009, he released Watchmen, which was considered a general dud at the time but has since garnered a passionate, cult-like fanbase (extremely subtle foreshadowing). Snyder was brought in to shape what DC’s path to a connected film universe would look like. He was largely responsible for setting the visual aesthetics and tone of the whole universe.

Zack Snyder has a very…specific vision for capturing superheroes on film. Watchmen is visually a one-for-one recreation of its source material, yet it somehow presents the complete opposite in terms of theme and messaging. It’s clear he has adoration for the Watchmen comic book, but he doesn’t seem to understand it. Despite this, the film is a visual spectacle with some satisfying sequences. I can’t be mad at anyone who hasn’t read the graphic novel and enjoys Snyder’s Watchmen. It’s a mesmerizing piece of filmmaking and probably one of the director’s most complete efforts. I suppose his gothic, gritty eye was a decent choice at the time on paper, especially as counterprogramming to Marvel’s lighthearted, comedic tone.

In 2012, DC was severely behind in the cinematic universe arms race. Marvel Studios had crafted five pretty successful films and were gearing up for their first huge crossover, while DC was still wrapping up Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy to a divisive reception. In January of that year, they finally announced the start of their connected universe, Man of Steel. Directed by Zack Snyder with heavy behind-the-scenes involvement from Christopher Nolan, Man of Steel had a lot of promise. I was pumped, not only was there going to be a modern take on Superman (A character who had been underserved since Richard Donner), it was setting up the Justice League film I always wanted.

Superman has always been labeled a ‘simple’ character. He’s the most stereotypical archetype of an American superhero, with a red, white, and blue color scheme to boot. He leads with kindness and empathy, never afraid to lend a hand. It should be the easiest character to bring to life. I was naive and thought Snyder would knock it out of the park. I loved his Dawn of the Dead remake and Watchmen (until I read the graphic novel). I don’t remember anticipating a film more than I anticipated Man of Steel in 2013. The trailers were incredible and gave me faith that I would finally see a modern Superman that I recognized. I was ready to feel like a kid again, watching episodes of Superman: The Animated Series when I should have been doing homework. I was ready to believe I could fly.

Man of Steel introduced me to the feeling of disappointment. I’d seen bad films before. I’d seen movies I hated before. How I felt when leaving Man of Steel was not something I had felt before or after. I wasn’t even angry. When my friends asked me what I thought, I probably said, “It was cool.” That wouldn’t have been a lie. If the film is anything, it’s cool, for better or worse. But Superman isn’t cool. He never has been. He’s always been a dork. He’s always been Clark Kent. That’s the true sin of Man of Steel. Not the misrepresentation of Superman, but the utter lack of Clark Kent.

When we’re introduced to Snyder’s Clark Kent, he’s not a socially awkward journalist or a charming farm boy; he’s a stoic fisherman who never speaks or smiles. This is a Superman who broods. A Superman who looks inconvenienced by having to save anyone. A Superman who would let their father die to conceal his (poorly) hidden identity. Superman isn’t an idealized version of Clark Kent in this version; he’s the personification of a broken man’s desires. This Clark Kent isn’t trying to befriend his goofy coworkers at the Daily Planet; he’s trying to reckon with how weak humanity is compared to himself. That’s just fundamentally not who this character should be, and I think Snyder knows it.

Zack Snyder was not intending to celebrate the character of Superman; he was dead set on deconstructing it. Through his films, we see that Snyder’s worldview is a cynical one. His films are often attempts at exploring the relationship between humanity and violence when you dig underneath all the slo-mo and dramatic poses. This can be a great sensibility that obviously resonates with a large amount of people, but it’s just the wrong take on this universe. If you have a DC universe with a stoic Superman, that defeats the entire point of the crossover. Superman reckons with darker themes via the other characters around him, not from his own anger.

Man of Steel disappointed me, but I was still on board for this universe, the DCEU, as it had been titled. It took almost 3 years for the next installment, a Man of Steel sequel, to be turned into a massive crossover event. In the three years that DC had been absent, their competitors were lapping them. They not only had released another Avengers film, but the MCU was turning out hit after hit. It didn’t matter who the characters were, either. Relatively niche heroes like Ant-Man or the Guardians of the Galaxy were suddenly the center of blockbuster films. To say DC had some catching up to do would be the understatement to end all understatements.

Batman v Superman was announced to excitement and confusion among fans (but mostly confusion). DC was trying to skip the vital steps that made the MCU a success in the first place. If The Avengers had happened right after the first Iron Man, it would’ve been seen as an overstuffed mess with way too much going on. Since we got to know the characters via their own origin stories beforehand, the film was able to feel complete. We’ve never seen this version of Batman, so why should we be invested in his meeting with Superman?

I cautiously awaited Batman V Superman ever since its announcement. I needed it to be good; I wasn’t even asking for the Citizen Kane of superhero films, just something to keep the series going. The trailers were good, but I knew not to put stock in that after Man of Steel. I was nervous about this film, a project in which I had no involvement. I felt personally attached to this film’s success. I still yearned for that big-budget Justice League film I imagined as a kid. I should have known better. Snyder already told me what he thought of my favorite heroes, that the values they represented were unrealistic and childish. Oh, Superman is supposed to be a hopeful Boy Scout type with a heart of gold? Top bad that’s not ‘realistic’. Oh, Batman has a strict rule not to murder anyone to honor his parents' death? Too bad Batman would have a gun in real life.

Batman V Superman crushed me. It made me question if I even really liked these characters or if I just liked the comfort they brought me as a kid. I was seeing Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman take on Doomsday together in a live-action film. I should have been over the moon. This is the exact type of thing I wanted as a kid while I smashed my action figures together. Batman V Superman felt like a bully snatching the figures away from me and defacing them. It felt like it was calling me silly for ever having an emotional attachment to these characters in the first place. Shortly after this film, two Justice League films were announced, slated for 2017 and 2018. I didn’t care. After years of hoping for one, I was less than apathetic when the announcement came. This wasn’t the Justice League; it was some weird male power fantasy that mocked its source material.

That same summer, DC gave us a double dose of disappointment. The Suicide Squad came out to a critical reception so bad that it made Batman V Superman seem successful in comparison. The film was a mess from the music video-style editing to the groan-worthy dialogue that is still joked about today (what are we? Some kind of Suicide Squad?). The film is another example of these films completely missing the point of these stories. What should be a chaotic but heartfelt found family story is a run-of-the-mill action movie with sparse characterization. Margot Robbie’s magnetic performance as Harley Quinn only goes so far in such a sloppy film.

I had completely given up on the DCEU. I was starting to experience ‘superhero fatigue’ altogether. I didn’t go see 2017’s Wonder Woman, expecting more character assassination. I just couldn’t go through it again. I was eventually convinced by my brother (who’s even more of a DC nerd than me) that the film is worth a watch. I broke down and saw the film pretty deeply in its theatrical run. I had my critical lenses on, ready to hate every second of it. Instead, I felt the closest to how those animated shows once made me feel. For a brief moment, I was a child again.

Sure, the third act is a CGI-flooded mess. Sure, Gal Gadot is a charisma vacuum in the lead role. Sure, the villains are forgettable and undeveloped. All of that is true, yet the film did one thing right: capture the essence of Wonder Woman. They don’t make her a brooding figure out for vengeance and power. Instead, she’s a fish out of water who sees value in all life, even the beings she doesn’t understand. Watching a comic-accurate Wonder Woman navigate through World War 1 was pure nerd bliss for me. Wonder Woman revitalized my hope for the DCEU and superheroes in general.

I had regained some optimism around the upcoming Justice League film. Maybe it really would be what I always dreamt of. Maybe DC had finally figured out. It wasn’t too late to pivot, I thought. Marvel had done some pretty significant recasts and retcons deep into their run; I didn’t see any reason why DC couldn’t course-correct in a similar fashion. The making of Justice League was a complete mess. Snyder had garnered a negative reputation, leading Warner Bros. to attempt to ring him in. Snyder would step down from the film following a family tragedy. Instead of giving the director some time and letting him grieve, Snyder was fired and replaced with Avengers director, Joss Whedon.

Justice League is terrible. It’s worse than Man of Steel and Batman V Superman because those films at least took huge films. This film is afraid to take any swings, unless you count terrible boob jokes as big swings. The film didn’t anger or confuse me; it was honestly just sad. The studio wanted Whedon to add the quippy comedy that made The Avengers so successful. It worked then in 2012, but by 2017, audiences were growing tired of this early-2010s nerdy humor. Not only was it outdated, but it also just didn’t fit the pre-established world. These characters have no strong traits, and every piece of dialogue is either exposition or a bad joke.

Justice League pretty much marked the end of this universe. The DCEU would go on to produce films up to as recently as 2023, but the hopes of a truly connected universe were dead. The DCEU even had some successes after Justice League. Aquaman grossed a billion dollars, and the first Shazam was beloved by both critics and audiences. It didn’t matter, though; the damage was done.

Around the time of Justice League’s release, a group started emerging on the internet. This group was huge fans of Zack Snyder’s vision and wanted to see what he would do if he were never replaced on Justice League. The ‘Snydercult,’ as they would later be named, started the #releasethesnydercut campaign. What started as an internet campaign bled into real life. Snyder fans even flew a blimp asking for the release of the Snydercut over the WB lot. This would be the start of a toxic culture that would begin to take over the already minimal DCEU fanbase.

The Snydercult eventually got its way in 2021. Zack Snyder’s Justice League was released on HBO Max. It stands at over four hours long and features a much wider scope. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s that great. Is it better than Joss’s version? Sure, but only marginally. This film drags. The overuse of slow motion kills any pacing this film might’ve maintained despite its length. It’s ambitious, and I guess I’m glad it exists, but I don’t think it was worth years of harassment and online conspiracy.

The rest of the DCEU was pretty unfocused and random. At one point, Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson was poised to take control of the fractured universe. Johnson teamed with DC for one last-ditch effort to resurrect this universe. The plan would center around Johnson’s Black Adam facing off against Henry Cavill’s Superman. This plan hilariously imploded one film in. Black Adam wasn’t the last DCEU film, but it was the final nail in the coffin. The Flash would release to terrible reviews while Aquaman 2 and Blue Beetle just came and went with little fanfare.

James Gunn’s new DCU seems to be correcting every mistake that was made with the DCEU. His Superman is fun, emotional, and hopeful, which is everything a Superman film needs to be. Looking back at what could have been feels right at this moment in time. I can’t say I don’t have any fondness for the DCEU. Wonder Woman is still one of the best superhero films, as far as I’m concerned. James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad is great. I even found the often-maligned Birds of Prey to be a fun time. I don’t look at the DCEU with malice. I look at it as a case of lost potential and corporate incompetence. Unfortunately, the only true legacy it has left behind is a cult hellbent on harassing anyone who isn’t aligned with this particular version of the DC universe.

I wanted to connect to this universe; I tried. All we can do now is be happy for the few that did.