Of all the unexpected developments in the cultural battles of the coronavirus era, it’s hard to think of one quite as remarkable as the critics’ surrender to Zack Snyder. The auteur of slo-mo violence, the man whose Spartans-at-Thermopylae epic 300 launched a thousand takes about alt-right cinema years before the rise of Donald Trump, the guy whose very online fanboys are everything that cineastes disdain, the filmmaker seemingly least suited to an era of ascendant wokeness and progressive scrupulosity — that guy, that Zack Snyder, just dropped a four-hour cut of a superhero movie, and the critics basically threw up …
This article appears as “The Superhero Wars” in the April 19, 2021, print edition of National Review.
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