By Richmond Adams

Movie Reviewer

Two weeks ago, my wife Jane and I (at her urging: she knows I have somewhat “quirky” taste in movies) went to see the recent film Green Book, a fine production concerning issues from the early 1960s that remain, sadly, much too present today. My thoughts presently, however, do not revolve around that film, but two of the previews that Jane and I happened to see.

We first saw scenes from Godzilla: King of the Monsters, which serves as the inevitable sequel to the simply named Godzilla from 2014. Beyond the usual CGI “blow up most of the world” graphics, the preview suggested that the creature who generated the most horror from films during the 1950s and 1960s has now become the one who will now save humanity from itself. Interesting.

As Godzilla left the screen, Captain Marvel took its place. Apparently retelling the transformation of Carol Danvers who will, at the last possible moment, bring about the saving of the world (cue Tom Cruise’s entrance for Mission Impossible XII, or whatever its number is, for a dramatic cameo), our gallant rescuer comes to battle all manner of evil for seemingly almost two hours, give or take a popcorn break. Only, more or less, the 10,456th portrayal of superhero-dom in the aftermath of 9-11, Captain Marvel will, without doubt, do her duty and allow we who are mere mortals to rest easy until the forces of evil again descend upon us. Interesting.

In taking these two previews as a whole, (the third one was some CGI cartoon about something or other that caused me to reach for my Dr. Pepper), they suggest that we have come to rely upon once feared and horrid monsters along with CGI-formed superheroes to rescue us not so much from what lurks beyond our control, but actually from ourselves.

These films, in short, reflect the cultural ways that we have come to understand ourselves in a much different manner even within the span of my lifetime. In 1962, to use a notable example, Atticus Finch during the film To Kill a Mockingbird called us to duty. While the jury in Maycomb, Alabama did not listen to his call, many among the audience did, it appeared. Those who saw the film and read Harper Lee’s novel came to realize, or at least believed, what was expected.

The previews from two weeks ago noted, however, that even if we could recreate Gregory Peck’s thunder from the seat of cultural judgement in 1962, we might still wait for a monster or a superhero to save us from ourselves. In itself, that cultural shift remains most interesting.