by Jarrod Jones. By the end of the 1940s, Hollywood’s response to Superman’s popularity had been appropriate; between Max and Dave Fleischer’s stunning Superman animated shorts and Kirk Alyn’s 15-part movie serials, the Man of Steel was virtually everywhere. But never once did it occur to these studio moguls, who were already reaping the rewards of adapting Superman to the silver screen anyway, to adapt the hero’s exploits with the same veneer they applied to their prestige projects. Just think about it. It’s really quite bizarre.
In a time where high-flying superhero pictures are virtually every production studio’s safest bet, I’m experiencing a bit of cape movie jetlag. The spark is dwindling. And whenever I find myself underwhelmed by mainstream adaptations of my favorite characters, I turn inward to find the films, television shows, or comic books that never existed… but should have. So that’s what this article is all about. Daydreaming.
Join me as I consider an alternate reality, where the mammoth success of comic books in the 1940s was met by Hollywood with the same care and diligence typically given over to large-scale productions like Treasure of the Sierra Madre or the tongue-in-cheek gusto afforded to genre fare like The Adventures of Robin Hood or Samson and Delilah. Join me as I consider Michael Curtiz’s Superman.
Here are our parameters:
- Our Superman film could have been made at any point between 1939 and 1949, arguably the highest point of the character’s popularity.
- Studio contracts are not an issue. As this Superman picture will have been produced by Warner Bros. — instead of Paramount, who handled the Fleischers’ animated serial, or Columbia, who make Kirk Alyn a household name — no actor included in this film would be hampered by contractual obligations from other studios.
- The only actors employed in this film are stars who worked during this era.
- The film would have been directed by Warner’s Golden Goose, Michael Curtiz, who in this alternate world would have still made Casablanca by the seat of his pants, among other prestige pictures. Here’s the thing: Superman would demand a fantastic vision on par with Fritz Lang and the panache of Cecil B. Demille. Both attributes were once exemplified by the technical expertise of William Cameron Menzies (who made the towering Things to Come way back in 1936, a film that contains imagery that looks like this — and this). Menzies would be Curtiz’s second-in-command, bringing the ambition and scale required to recreate the doomed planet of Krypton while making a beleaguered Metropolis under siege look utterly fantastic. Curtiz would supply the whirlwind romance between Lois Lane and Superman with his typical flourishes.
- Under no circumstances would bombastic WB composer Max Steiner make music for this film. (Holy cats, what a showoff.) Instead, Warners would hire Dimitri Tiomkin, the composer responsible for some of my all-time favorite movies (Dial ‘M’ For Murder, Rio Bravo).
With all that understood, let’s get into the fun part — the casting.
Cary Grant is Clark Kent/Superman. Come on. This one makes so much sense. Not only did Cary Grant have the acting chops, the physique, and the charisma to portray the Last Son of Krypton, but for all intents and purposes, he was Clark Kent in 1938’s Bringing Up Baby. (It’s been said that Christopher Reeve even chose to emulate Grant’s character, David Huxley, when he donned the glasses forty years later.) Grant’s expertise in playing the milksop (see Arsenic and Old Lace) and the hero (Gunga Din) has been well-documented. Grant is forever the Superman of my dreams.
Barbara Stanwyck is Lois Lane. Barbara Stanwyck is one of my all-time favorites — from this era or any other. Stanwyck had all the attributes of Lois Lane: she was tough-as-nails, compassionate, brassy, and energetic. Stanwyck’s body of work speaks for itself. But the next time you watch Meet John Doe, look closely: you’re looking at the nigh-perfect panel-to-frame personification of Lois Lane the silver screen has ever seen.
Claude Rains is Lex Luthor. Luthor, snake that he is, was a tough character to pin down for a casting assignment such as this. It would be essential that the actor assigned to Luthor have not just the cunning but the magnetism required to be a proper foil for Cary Grant’s Man of Steel. Cunning, is it? Magnetism, you say? As one of the greatest character actors of all time, Claude Rains commanded both. In films like Notorious and Casablanca, the actor taps into humanity’s more insidious nature and makes it look so damned suave.
Orson Welles and Myrna Loy are Jor-L and Lora. Given that the period in which we’ve placed our focus took place during comics’ Golden Age, Superman’s Kryptonian folks would have to have their original Siegel and Shuster designations. (I’ve always had an affinity for those names, anyhow.) As most Superman pictures deal in Kal-El’s wondrous origin story, there would have to be an opening sequence featuring Orson Welles and Myrna Loy as our hero’s biological parents. Wells always had a larger-than-life zeal to his performances (watch him in Macbeth, the man’s a beast), and Loy’s otherworldly beauty and sense of tenderness are among the attributes that continue to endear her to audiences. So many actors from this period had what it took to bring Curtiz and Menzies’ Krypton to life. I say Welles and Loy were the only two who could do it with grace.
Lionel Barrymore and Beulah Bondi are John and Mary Kent. As it is with Jor-L and Lora, so it must be for John and Mary Kent: original names. As Superman’s adoptive parents, the Kents had yet to become fully realized characters (it wouldn’t be until 1948 before they were even given proper names), so why not throw some Richard Donner-level star power behind the fine folks who gave Superman his good upbringing? Had Lionel Barrymore and Beulah Bondi portrayed Superman’s gentle, warm-hearted folks during the character’s defining years, we might be living in a better world today; you never know.
Hume Cronyn is Perry White. (I have to say: I’m the most proud of this casting.) Clark Kent and Lois Lane need a proper editor who commands respect and gets results from his bullpen of intrepid reporters. Hume Cronyn has always been my only choice for Perry White. (His Golden Age predecessor, George Taylor, and the proto-Daily Planet paper The Daily Star get the boot in this one instance). Cronyn might have been a man of short stature, but he commanded attention with his enormous onscreen presence. (Watch him put the fear of god into Burt Lancaster in Brute Force.) Cronyn is the actor you want whipping The Daily Planet into shape.
Mickey Rooney is Jimmy Olsen. Come on now. There was no other choice. While ol’ Mick was well in his twenties around this period, his youthful looks and scrappy energy make him the prime candidate for our cub photographer. And the presence of all this marquee talent would ensure that Hollywood’s notorious ham wouldn’t gobble up too much scenery. Plus, he looks great in a bowtie!
Tyrone Power is Bruce Wayne. In a perfect world, Michael Curtiz’s Superman wouldn’t miss an opportunity to implement another popular character from Detective Comics, Inc. It’s only fitting that the hustle-and-bustle of Metropolis would attract a notorious playboy like Bruce Wayne to its gilded towers, wouldn’t you say? Tyrone Power, handsome leading man and swashbuckler of the age (Black Swan and, fittingly, The Mark of Zorro), would be my only pick for the dark and charming Mr. Wayne. What’s that? Too on the nose? Ah, you’re crazy.
But why stop there? Since we were about as likely to see such a film made as we’re likely to find the time machine that could make it possible, why not make room for a villain from Superman’s Silver Age? I mean, why not? Let’s break some rules.
Charles Boyer is Brainiac. Brainiac wouldn’t begin to terrorize the cosmos until 1958, but because Brainiac is the most infamous Superman foe this side of Luthor, I’d be remiss if I omitted our green-skinned would-be despot. Charles Boyer’s reputation as a sophisticate would have dodged one heck of a bullet, considering that Michael Curtiz’s Superman would have been shot in black and white. That means any green-skinned blows to his ego would have been set aside for Boyer to flex his considerable menace as the alien fiend. A team-up between Claude Rains’ Luthor and Boyer’s Brainiac? That’s the world I want to live in.
Who would you cast in a Golden Age Superman movie? How would you cast it today? Sound off in the comments section below.
