That was a lovely and impassioned post, Josh. But don't think I didn't notice that you still – still! – didn't address the issue of nonsuperhero comic-book source material. I bet you think you're so sly... As for me, I got nothing – although I did toy with the idea of a pictorial essay on leather pants in film (why must you mock them so?) – but for now I'm shoving off until the later evening hours, when the siren call of my laptop inevitably wills me back to our brawl.

Yep, I knew it was going to come to this. I’ve been trying to distract you and anyone reading Film Fight for the past four days with semi-pornographic cartoon videos and off-topic rants in the hopes that you would forget that not all comic-book movies are super-hero movies. I didn’t want you to remember American Splendor or Ghost World or A History of Violence. I figured as long as I kept the discussion on men in tights, I’d be forcing you defend indefensible movies like The Punisher and Catwoman and Batman & Robin, and that maybe people would start to think you were crazy for doing so and decide not to take anything you say seriously. It was my only hope. But I knew all along it was going to come to this: The end of the line. The last stop. Rosenblatt’s last stand.

Our Film editor Marjorie Baumgarten brought up on the boards the question of villainry, arguing that the villains are the more interesting characters. History might be on her side – Alfred Molina's tortured Doc Ock, Gene Hackman's crazy-eyed Lex Luthor, Al Pacino's hunchbacked Big Boy Caprice – all of 'em vastly more entertaining than the earnest, sometimes-yawning caped crusaders. Interesting, then, that two of this summer's superhero movies (well, three, if you count Hancock) had villains who were mostly negligible. In both the Hulk reboot and Iron Man, the big baddies (Tim Roth, Jeff Bridges) basically co-opted our heroes' technology and made themselves bigger, badder versions of the original, which led to curiously flat climaxes – basically loud, clanging choruses of "Anything you can do I can do better." That said, Iron Man was a blast – and I do hope you see it today so we can talk some more about it. I think some of your c.b. movie reservations have to do with your perceived adolescent-ness of the superhero, but Iron Man/Tony Stark is fully adult – sexy, sarcastic, existentially conflicted. The film hinges on Stark’s moral crisis about his role in arming the planet – intelligently and soberly reflecting on America’s identity crisis in an (almost!) post-Bush era (although the waterboarding of an American by an Arab was in questionable taste). Actually, Hulk – which I thought was the far, far inferior movie – also pivoted on the American military-industrial complex's damaging effects... so maybe the real villain in these pieces isn't the genetically-engineered monster or the egomaniacal CFO but rather our own war-mongering ways? Uh oh. Did I just open the door for you to rail about American imperialism?

"Robert Rodriguez’s Sin City was a heartless, lifeless, soulless exercise in green-screen indulgence disguised as a film … and further proof that comic books should never be made into movies." You know, the "green-screen indulgence" isn't what I had a problem with. In fact, I think Sin City's visual aesthetic – verily ripped from the pages of Frank Miller's source comic – is the only reason to see the film, which is why I'm so excited to see Miller's The Spirit come December. But to be honest – and yes, I know this is enough to get me slapped with a scarlet something in this town – I turned off Sin City after about half an hour. It looked amazing, and it was a heck of a cast, and I think "soulless" is perhaps the wrong word to use on a film that was so obviously a labor of love for a lot of people. But I just couldn't stomach what the über-gore and the endless eroticization of violence against women. Sure, I know, sometimes the ladies got to fight back... So long as they were in a bustier.

I know, just when we’d settled into a pleasant state of extended antagonism, Will Smith comes along and ruins everything. No … you come along and ruin everything. I hereby take back all the nice things I said about you in the last post. By recommending we go see Hancock together, you have all but ruined Film Fight. Not only are we suddenly agreeing on everything, but my whole argument about the inherent lousiness of superhero movies has gone out the window! Defenestrated! (Hey, I finally found a way to use my favorite word. Ten years I’ve been waiting for this moment.) Things were going so well, Kim! Remember when you accused me of engaging in circular argumentation? Remember when I told you your favorite director was an overrated hack? Remember when you beat me by 54 percentage points in the first day’s tally? Remember when I rang your doorbell and ran early on the morning of day three? Remember when you conceded that I had beaten you on every major point of debate? Those were great times, filled with laughter and fun and genuine animosity. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve turned us … agreeable. Lucky for you, Hancock isn’t actually based on a comic book or we’d both be out of a job.

Well, I think you were smirking when you suggested Will Smith in skin-tight rubber superhero suiting might broker a peace between us… but that’s exactly what happened. Behold the awesome power that is the Fresh Prince, now and forever.

I resisted Hancock a touch in the beginning. Some of the early music choices felt distracting, and frankly, not enough seemed to be happening in the first act. But then we began to better know the three leads – the raging drunk, reluctant superhero Hancock (Smith), do-gooder PR man Ray (Jason Bateman), who wants to help Hancock turn his bad press around, and Ray’s wife, Mary (Charlize Theron), who takes an instant dislike to Hancock – and the film opens up and deepens in surprising ways.

Director Peter Berg shoots their relationship interactions with shaky cam, extreme closeup, partially obstructed framing – as if, as David Denby put it (in one of the few positive reviews Hancock garnered), “he were making a Cassavetes psychodrama.”

And then of course there’s the game-changing twist…

To the readers: In my last post I mentioned that the kind of movie super-hero I’m interested in would be “disrespectful, ironic, self-indulgent, cynical, lascivious, amoral, mendacious.” In response Kim just called me to suggest we go see Hancock, which is about a super-hero who is disrespectful, ironic, self-indulgent, cynical, lascivious, amoral, mendacious. A great idea, I thought. And one I wish I’d thought of. And one I’ll take credit for months from now when nobody’s looking. (This, by the way, is an example of why Kim is a successful, highly paid editor and I’m a poor freelance writer forced to choose between paying for vital medications and buying pants.) So we’re going to take a few hours off from posting to go see the movie, and then we’ll be back at our computers to discuss it. Expect her comments sometime in the mid-evening hours. Expect mine at about the time your garbage collector is crawling into bed. In the meantime, though, one quick comment about our ongoing side-bar discussion of the works of the late, great (or just late) Alfred Hitchcock: Kim, you’re right about our classic-movie tangent: Mainly I’m worried we’re using up all our topics for next month’s I Love Hitchcock/I Hate Hitchcock edition of Film Fight. If we keep this up we’re going to have to spend an entire week talking about li’l Ronny Howard’s performance in The Trouble With Harry: “Genius!” “Garbage!” “Genius!” “Garbage!” In your last post you asked me where my sweet spot for a movie ending was – somewhere “between the ingenious and organic, pre-MacGyver plot twist of a camera bulb flash and the big-budget razzle-dazzle (but often just as character-motivated) climaxes of comic book movies?” you wondered. As an answer, I’m providing this clip: a perfect example of a top-notch climax, full of old-Hollywood character significance and subtle Freudian catharsis and big-budget, big-hero, big-action, big-gun razzle and dazzle. John Wayne, by the way, would never have been caught dead in tights. Montgomery Clift … I’m not so sure … (Starts at about 4:40):

Since you touched on a less conventional (and also pretty funny, pretty filthy) representation of superhero-dom, I'd like to urge you 1) to watch an episode of adultswim's Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. He's a pompous, third-rate superhero who tries to keep other superheroes out of the clink. And 2) Listen to this This American Life episode from way back when (#198: How to Win Friends and Influence People), in which (my secret, sighing crush) Jonathan Goldstein imagines what it's like to be the guy who dates Lois Lane when she's on the rebound from Superman. Good stuff. You can listen to it for free on the site -- it comes in around the 44 minute mark: "At first, I was a novelty. In the beginning Lois would kiss my forehead and tell me she loved how squishy my arms were. 'In a good way,' she'd say. 'They're so easy to fall asleep on.'"

Someone in our comments board yesterday asked for clarification if we were discussing comic book adaptations or superhero comic adaptations? It's an important distinction, and one I've let you slide on, Josh. Until now. When we kicked around this idea, your thesis, as I remember, was simply "I hate comic book movies, let's talk about that." So did you mean strictly superheroes, or does your disdain also cover non-superhero comic and graphic novel adaptations, too – like American Splendor, Ghost World, Persepolis, The Road to Perdition? What about comic strips that have transitioned to screen – like my beloved Peanuts, or the often-wickedly funny The Boondocks? Does everything touched by comic books get thumbs down? What about The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay? That one's all about men in tights (or rather, the men who draw the men in tights), and it didn't win the Pulitzer for nothing. I suspect this will be nonstarter argument – because, really, how could you blanketly write off a movie just for the manner in which its source material was printed – but I figured it was worth mentioning.