The Incredibles 2 - Superheroes and Industry

*Heavy spoilers ahead for The Incredible 2*

Perhaps now more than ever before, we as moviegoers are drowning in sequels. Ideas are consistently stretched, rehashed, and reshaped in an effort to reliably line studios’ pockets. Of course, this development can leave us feeling dissatisfied as we crave something innovative and fresh.

And for as much as I love superheroes and all of their associated media, this sequel phenomenon has affected no genre more than that of those costumed crusaders. Fascinatingly, superhero sequels have followed a pretty strict formula over the last couple of decades. Whereas the first film in any superhero story often introduces and celebrates its protagonist(s), the second film typically challenges this notion, specifically examining the hero’s relationship with capitalism and/or privatization. This trend is not necessarily a bad thing, nor should it come as a surprise. Superheroes are, after all, vehicles for capitalism, both in their own universes and ours. Superheroes sell, so there is no better lens through which to view them than the very systems that empower their primary purpose.

This is Iron Man 2. This is Batman Returns. This is Captain America: Civil War. Not surprisingly, it is also Incredibles 2.

The long-awaited continuation of the adventures of the Parr family picks up immediately after the events of its predecessor. When the supers wreak havoc across the city in their efforts to stop the Underminer, supers are deemed illegal. This particular superhero universe has always had a rocky relationship with its superpowered citizens, as evidenced by the films’ insistence upon the term “super”, notably lacking the oft-assumed “hero” tacked on the end. But when Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl, and Frozone are approached by Winston Deavor (voiced by the great Bob Odenkirk) with an opportunity to prove their illegality wrong, it is Elastigirl who becomes the ambassador for the superhero brand in their fight against the law.

This pursuit is complicated, however, by Winston’s sister, Evelyn Deavor (say that name out loud a few times and you’ll get a sense of where this going.) Evelyn poses as the villain Screenslaver in an attempt to highlight what she perceives as supers’ stranglehold over human independence. She rejects them as agents of consumption, lulling humans into complacency as they find comfort in their superpowered protection.

And just like Syndrome—director/writer Brad Bird’s first stab at a supervillain— Evelyn is not entirely wrong in her beliefs. With his famous line “when everyone’s super, no one is,” Syndrome challenged the film’s Nietzschean assertion that society truly contains tiers of superiority and inferiority. Evelyn/Screenslaver similarly challenges the significance of superheroes with a monologue that raises concerns with consumerism and supers’ facilitation of it. Interestingly, Evelyn also combines this issue with the societal obsession with our screens, blaming both for our supposed complacence.

And again, she’s not entirely wrong. Superheroes are commodities, rendering their successes capitalism’s successes as well. Under a capitalist system, superheroes are an industry like any other. Even Bob Parr struggles with this idea while doing his best Mr. Mom impression when he sees his old supermobile being sold on TV. In this superhero industry, commodification is fair game at all levels. So why is it so bad that Evelyn rebels against this very concept?

Quite frankly, I do not know. Sure, she should not be mind-controlling supers, forcing them to cause mass destruction so as to highlight their negative impact upon the world. Her core beliefs, however, maintain some merit, as she simply wants to see Americans do rather than consume. Both this sequel and the original The Incredibles deftly interrogate the superhero genre and its associated themes. I struggle, however, with where both of these films decide to settle their respective debates.

The first film obviously ends with Syndrome’s defeat, reaffirming its Nietzschean position on human capability. Its sequel therefore does something similar by allowing its central superfamily to thwart Evelyn’s plans. In doing so, The Incredibles 2 disregards Evelyn’s theory of supers as agents of consumerism, and instead welcomes the superhero industry altogether. The world of the Incredibles prioritizes protection over independence, even going so far as to legalize supers once again at the end of the film.

Of course, it is difficult to deem any answer to these issues as right or wrong, but, at the very least, films such as The Incredibles 2 should force us to look more closely at those industries and institutions that dominate our lives. Is it best to find comfort in the supposed security that so many of these may provide, or should we challenge these institutions as we search for those that may bring true freedom and true safety instead? I tend to believe in the latter, but in a world crafted under The Walt Disney Company— the corporation responsible for so much of our media consumption over the last century— the status quo unsurprisingly reigns supreme.

Note: Although not immediately relevant to the topic of this post, the film’s treatment of gender was particularly impressive. Whereas The Incredibles limits its female protagonists by allowing Bob’s hero complex to push its way to the forefront, 2 corrects this issue by heavily featuring Elastigirl in the role of protagonist and Evelyn in the role of antagonist, even avoiding a common trope by seamlessly blending their feud with the film’s complex themes.

Until next time,

Cory Reid