Monday, November 29, 2010

Superhero Changeups

I got into an animated discussion with my boy about superheroes (an interest we both share)... in particular, the logistics of costumes and the transformation process. He was trying to figure out how he was going to change into his pretend super-hero persona.

Some superheroes have it easy - your Green Lanterns, for instance, where it's quick and clean, no fuss, no muss, just a flash of a power ring and voila, good to go.

Until Iron Man 2's suitcase armor, his conversion always seemed inconvenient and uncomfortable - we both agree that it's one of the coolest ones, ever. The Adam West Batman also always seemed to need his Batpole.

Some need a painful-looking transformation like the Hulk... leaving their alter-ego needing a clothing budget the size of a small country's GDP.
Frankly, I prefer the Ultimate version of the Hulk, what with the massive body count and the elimination of the need for surprisingly stretchy purple pants... but that one's not exactly age-appropriate.

Then there are those whose transformations surely must wreak havoc with both the concept of a secret identity and the general environment (e.g., whenever Billy Batson says "Shazam!" indoors).

But my favourite is perhaps the most iconic of all, Superman. In discussing this with my boy, we both started to wonder whether sewing buttons was one of his super-powers, or whether he uses velcro, because he rips through an awful lot of his dress shirts. Frankly, given the sheer number of shirts he leaves littering the Daily Planet, the janitorial staff is either complicit in his secret identity, or they're engaged in a massive second-hand men's clothing racket and assume that there are an awful lot of office romances.

There's no real point to this post... just amusing observations from conversations with a 4 year old. In the end, he decided he'd wear his costume under his street clothes, which works for winter, at least.

1 comment:

  1. I always kind of wondered what happened to the clothes that Superman left in those phone booths. I can only assume that Metropolis had some really well dressed hobos.