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Essay--Origin Stories

·7 mins

Comic book heroes and villains all have one thing in common—a backstory. Some little scene or tale that defines why they are who they are, and how they came to have their powers, or built their costume, or whatever. The origin story is, in my opinion, the most used trope in any comic book series that features “supers” or “meta-humans,” or rich billionaires that own too many toys.

The past few weeks, I rewatched the Netflix series Daredevil, the Punisher, and most recently, Jessica Jones. While I’m probably going to get some hate mail for this, I must admit that yes, I just NOW saw the first season of JJ. I’ll probably get the same static I got when I mentioned I hadn’t yet seen Guardians of the Galaxy. For the record, I have seen it now. It was good. Now get off my back!

Ahem. Back to the point.

Origin stories present a problem for writers, but especially for film and tv writers. The old trope is that the “first” movie in a series, first book in a series, first whatever in a series deals with the character’s origin story. It’s either the main focus of the narrative, told through flashbacks, or is set up as a focal point. In many of these instances, the first sequence is the main character dealing with what happened to turn them into what they are and finding who’s responsible.

Consider the Affleck Daredevil film. They weave the origin story into the film near the beginning. The same with the Spiderman that came out in 2002. Shall I name some others? Can you?

The origin story is a constant threat. Each time they reboot Spiderman, Batman, the Fantastic Four, or whomever, we end up getting yet another origin story. And they seem to get more and more ridiculous every time. Why? Because the writers don’t want to do the same exact thing the last writers for the franchise did. The meta is constantly reset. And guess what? It’s confusing as hell.

The Nolan Batman Trilogy was quite possibly the best mix of origin story with actual story. Batman Begins, hardly my favorite in the trilogy, didn’t actually focus on the death of Wayne’s parents so much as his genesis as a badass. That movie was really about Ra’s al Ghul and their relationship. At the end? Well, we find out all of these things are related. An incredibly awesome choice, if you ask me. The “gotcha” was perfect for me and I enjoyed the hell out of it.

Regardless of my personal tastes (or lack thereof), I think the narrative for the first two Nolan films are the strongest of all the “superhero” movie franchises. Although I must admit I haven’t watched any of the new ones in several years. The TV shows, on the other hand? Yeah, I’m smitten.

The Netflix series of Daredevil interweaves the origin story of his powers and all the decisions and incidents that led him to be who he is. And Matt Murdock is evolving. Between the first two seasons, it’s easy to see how the character has changed, how what he cares about and the lengths he’s willing to go to change. Morph.

But the origin story, once finished, is simply finished. Oh, they’ll refer back to the accident every once in a while, or maybe insert a flashback to his relationship with his father, but it no longer matters. Unless it’s important to the arc, they’re not going to spend any time on it. Which is exactly how it should be.

The Punisher, season one, dovetails nicely with his appearance in Daredevil season 2. We get a closer look, closer than we really want in some instances, of what’s made Frank Castle into the person he is. And as he investigates what led to his family’s death, we get more insight into what he used to do for the government and the USMC. Frank is not a nice person. Frank is a monster by conventional terms. But in war? He was the person you wanted to lead your team, or cover your six. Back among “normal” people, however, he doesn’t belong, can’t integrate, and destroys nearly every relationship that comes his way. You empathize with him; you feel his rage and loss, and me personally, I want the guy locked up in a psych ward so he can get some help. But as I said in an earlier essay, I think the end of season 1 showed that he is getting help. And maybe the rage has been replaced by something more human.

After being badgered for a long time, I finally watched Jessica Jones. Unlike Daredevil and The Punisher, I was completely unfamiliar with Ms. Jones, and maybe that actually helped me like the series so much. Her origin story is both more and less complicated than the examples I listed above. And while it plays a part in the first season, it has less to do with the overall arc. The second season? I think that’s going to change. I haven’t finished it yet, so I can’t quite speak to it. But I’m sure I will eventually.

Jones is a different type of superhero. Unlike the majority, she doesn’t have a secret identity. And once it’s exposed, it causes all sorts of problems for her in her daily life. She’s not Tony Stark or Bruce Wayne. She doesn’t have millions (of billions) of dollars lying around to help her. She’s constantly broke, scrapping for cash, and making enemies of damned near everyone she meets. I like her. I like her a lot.

I know the origin stories for Batman, Superman, Daredevil, The Punisher, Iron Man, Fantastic Four, blah blah blah. Who the hell cares? They’re so integrated into the identity of the characters that I imagine it’s difficult to find the average Marvel or DC moviegoer who doesn’t already know all this information. So why the hell do we keep getting spammed with it?

I have a character named Tony Downs that has an origin story of sorts, but it’s not a single thing. It’s a combination of factors that have caused him to be who he is, and most of it has to do with facing homophobia as a teen and through his early professional life, the gift he doesn’t understand and misuses frequently during his youth, and a history about people like him he couldn’t possibly know.

In other words, his origin story is simply his life. It wasn’t caused by an accident involving chemicals, a random spray of lethal radiation, or some other nonsense. It’s just life. In a way, that’s both more difficult and easier at the same time. More difficult because some folks want that out front. Easier because it can be woven into the narrative with simple flashbacks or even short stories. But it’s more about incidents with people, his family, his life. Also, he doesn’t wear a void-damned costume (which is another thing I love about Jessica Jones)

The origin story is a problem we all face with fantastical beings or even people with certain quirks like mental illness, or fighting really well, or whatever. The origin story can actually become the story, or it is merely part of the character. I prefer it to be part of the character, revealed slowly and carefully without the massive info dump. I think it makes for a better tale.

Don’t get me wrong, we all have origin stories. We all have moments in our lives that define who we are or have had a profound effect on how we deal with guilt, adversity, etc. Those incidents are what make us individual human beings, whether we realize it or not. What’s your origin story? What’s mine?

Next time you meet a stranger, a new acquaintance, or see someone walking on the street, think about what might make them unique, what things may have brought them to where they are, and how they’re dealing with it. The empathy you build might surprise you. Also, you might find yourself wanting to write a story. And that’s never a bad thing.

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