What course will "Superman Returns" sequel set?

The news that screenwriters Michael Dougherty and Dan Harris are off the sequel to "Superman Returns" raises even more questions about the Man of Steel's future on the big screen.

The departure of Dougherty and Harris from the project leaves Warner Bros. looking for new writers and a new approach on the pic — a dangerous spot to be in if you're trying to get a big-budget sequel into theaters for 2009 with multiple production-stopping strikes threatening the industry.

It's been suggested that the studio, unhappy with "Returns," wants a complete reboot, much like Marvel is making next summer's "The Incredible Hulk" as though the 2003 Ang Lee film never happened. WB maintains the next Superman film will be a sequel to Returns, but there's a lot of questions still to be answered, and those answers seem to be in a state of flux. Among them are whether or not star Brandon Routh will again don the cape and how the relationship between WB and director Bryan Singer will change given the criticism of the previous film's large budget and lackluster reception. 

Starting over from scratch may or may not be the right approach, but the next Superman movie needs to keep a few things in mind and try to remember what works about the character.

Superman was the first superhero and, in many ways, the simplest and most pure expression of the genre. The excitement kids felt when those first Superman tales appeared in late 1930s issues of Action Comics came from the simple thrill of seeing a hero fly (or leap through the air, as he did back then), bend steel bars, lift cars over his head and watch bad guys' bullets bounce off his chest. Superman himself was not a fully realized personality; he was a cypher of a hero who used his powers to ensure that the good guys always won and the world was as fair and just a place as it could be.

That made him a perfect hero for kids, who were given an ideal entry into Superman's world through the dual identity that replicated the division between their own worlds of play and fantasy and the reality of school, parents and chores. Lois' attraction to Superman and rejection of Clark was never more than a joke. Superman didn't care about girls, but Lois not being in on so obvious a secret made the kids feel part of the club, as though they worthy of Superman sharing his greatest secret with only them.

Lois' role in the comic grew over the years, especially once the Comics Code severely restricted the amount and type of violence and action that could be portrayed, reducing the Man of Steel too often to starring in a maudlin soap opera that revolved around Lois' vain pursuit of his affections. But it wasn't until the 1970s that anyone began to seriously explore the idea of Superman being attracted to or in love with Lois Lane — adding a strange, overly anxious twist to scenarios already overloaded with awkwardness as the changing marketplace forced the Man of Steel to become a Marvel-style hero with feet of clay. Superman, it seems, simply doesn't "grow up" as well as his longtime pal Batman or the Marvel characters for whom this kind of angst was part and parcel of their creation.

That's at least one reason why the character has been constantly re-invented and revamped ever since.  Superman has become notoriously difficult to write, with a minefield of potential traps and difficult questions of logic, character and plot that anyone tackling the job has to overcome. Fans in the 1970s and 1980s, who were increasingly the only audience left for comics, were unimpressed by the classic hero, preferring instead the brooding violence and relative realism of Batman, Wolverine and The Punisher.

Those same traps await writers adapting the character to film or TV, though producing a live-action version of the character imposes some limits of its own that can at the very least make such productions more aware of the problems. Richard Donner's 1978 "Superman" film is the best example. Donner famously resisted a campy approach and the temptation to have Superman interact with the likes of Kojak. He got it right by keeping the character of Superman relatively simple, and succeeded by placing that character in a more realistic world that the audience at the time would recognize as contemporary.

(But, what then about the spectacular ending of that film, in which Superman is so distraught over Lois' death that he spins the Earth backward in time to save her? Donner's original take, as seen in his cut of "Superman II," was to have Superman spin the Earth back in time at the end of the second film to erase Lois' memories of his true identity — a story much more in line with the tone of the classic Superman comics of the Golden and Silver Ages. Alas, it was the need for a better ending to the first film that forced the change, not creative issues, demonstrating yet again how thorny issues seem to crop up almost constantly with this character.)

What was so disappointing about "Superman Returns" was it fell right into the trap of trying to make Superman carry more emotional weight than he's built for. Also unlike "X-Men" and "X2," "Superman Returns" was more about the Donner film and less about finding the character's best comicbook moments and bringing them to the screen. As such, "Returns" ended up being too introspective and more about Superman the clueless jerk who fathered a child out of wedlock than Superman the triumphant hero. People left the theater feeling depressed instead of inspired.

Questions about the viability of "Superman Returns" predate its release, with so much attention — justifiably, given the result — paid to the pic's massive budget and eventual underwhelming performance. While WB says it stands behind Singer and pledges to proceed with the project as a sequel, the departure of Harris and Dougherty make it easier than ever to imagine Singer walking away from the project.

At the heart of this are growing questions about the way in which WB has developed the DC properties. While Marvel has managed to get pics made of most of its top characters and many of its minor ones, DC projects like "The Flash" and "Wonder Woman" remain in development hell despite having once had talents like David Goyer and Joss Whedon attached. 

That's what makes "Justice League of America" both exciting and a bit scary — it could be the breakthrough needed to launch more DC characters into their own films, or it could cut the legs out from under the projects still being worked on. ("Batman Begins" and its upcoming sequel, "The Dark Knight," are the exception that proves the rule, with many people crediting director Chris Nolan for the film's success rather than than decision made by the studio. Batman also has proven easier to adapt to live-action and is more capable of carrying the emotional weight audience want from a contemporary superhero film.) "Justice League of America" is still an incredibly daunting film to make well, especially given the short production schedule the looming strike may pose.

While answers to the many questions surrounding a Superman movie are at this point fuzzy, it's still too early to count out either the Man of Steel or Singer, whose track record is on the whole a very good one. The story of the Man of Steel's cinematic adventure is, as always, an ongoing battle that, with a little care, he's more likely to win than lose.