Stupor Heroes

A "comic book" movie with no action and few effects is one of the year's funniest films.

"I can shoot laser beams out of my arms," asserts an aggressively deadpan costumed character named The Strobe (Thomas Haden Church). "That's what sets me apart. Can other humans do that? Can they?" Equal parts Scott Glenn and Adam West, the highly underrated comedic actor Church is at the center of the new superhero parody film The Specials, but unlike Ben Stiller in the similarly themed Mystery Men, Church is backed by equally strong characters who are mostly performed by equally capable, if less well-known, talents. Factor in able direction from Craig Mazin (writer of the Harland Williams vehicle Rocketman) and a witty script from screenwriter/costar James Gunn (Tromeo and Juliet) that conveniently manages to sidestep the issue of actually showing any real superpowers being demonstrated and categorically resists the typical comic-book movie structure, and the result is a hilariously profane parody with enough genuine affection that cynicism never enters into the mix. Along with Louis C.K.'s little-seen Tomorrow Night, this is one of the funniest movies of the year.

Like that film, however, this one may have seemed too weird for a major distributor to pick it up -- the tiny Regent Entertainment (Free Enterprise) has done the honors. This despite the fact that the humor in The Specials is exactly the sort that fans of Conan O'Brien and South Park should truly appreciate. The Specials is about a superhero team of that name -- "the sixth or seventh best" -- who operate out of a run-down house in Silver Lake. Led by The Strobe, who credits his powers to "mysterious radioactive chemicals at the photo-processing plant," their membership roster also includes The Weevil (Rob Lowe), whose greatest power is that he can make people like him; Amok (Jamie Kennedy), a foul-mouthed punk with blue skin and a checkered past; Deadly Girl (Judy Greer), a nihilist with the power to conjure demons; Eight (John Doe, Abdul Salaa, El Razzac, Lauren Cohn, Tom Dorfmeister, Greg Erb, Brian Gunn, and Chuti Tiu), who has one mind in eight bodies; Minute Man (screenwriter Gunn), who can become really small (that's "minute" as in "small"; naturally, everyone assumes it's the other pronunciation); U.S. Bill (Mike Schwartz), who has superstrength and no brain ("Can you spell "guest'? There's a "u' in it!"); and Alien Orphan (Sean Gunn), a green-skinned shape-shifter who speaks gibberish and generally acts like an infant.

Much as X-Men introduced us to its team via the newcomer Wolverine, The Specials introduces us to its lineup through the eyes of newcomer Nightbird (Jordan Ladd), a girl with unspecified "bird powers," none of which involve the ability to fly. The group is having its problems: Weevil and Amok have been photographed in a restroom smoking, and Strobe is having marital trouble with his wife, Ms. Indestructible (Paget Brewster). Still, they're on the verge of their proudest accomplishment: a line of action figures, an achievement considered to be the superhero equivalent of an Oscar.

Unfortunately, the figures don't turn out as planned. Having been tweaked by the marketing gurus, the toys come with such accessories as a meat thermometer and "fishing rod of death." One features a removable mask that gives away his secret identity, another has been made black for the sake of diversity, and yet another reuses an old Richard Dawson headsculpt from a Hogan's Heroes doll. Gunn, who recently wrote the novel The Toy Collector, has this toy industry parody down pat -- in real life, Marvel Comics' affiliate Toy Biz, for example, recently released a "Beach Spider-Man," complete with bathing suit and beach ball. With the team furious over their plastic representations, and Strobe's marital tensions bubbling to the surface, heated words are exchanged and Strobe disbands the group.

All react in their own individual ways. Deadly Girl considers joining a feminist superteam called the Femme Five -- who actually have eight members rather than five, but insist that "traditional counting is an oppressive patriarchal tool." Weevil is offered a chance to join the higher-level Crusaders, who've decided they need a blue-costumed superhero in order to color-coordinate their Beanie Babies. Amok briefly considers a career raping dogs ("I don't like the way they look at me"), before deciding he should start a new group called the Fuck-Kills (motto: "You think you're bad? Fuck you! We're gonna kill you!"). And Minute Man actually draws up a plan to reunite the original team, until Deadly Girl sees what he's come up with and gently points out, "This isn't a plan, Ted, it's a drawing of your brother with a butt for a face."

But the film isn't all insult humor. It's strongly rooted in the Hanna-Barbera superhero cartoons many people watched as children and now realize are unfathomably stupid, such as The Herculoids, which featured a muscular superhero named Zandor who hung out with two giant amoebas and a mutant rhino, while staving off the enemies with a slingshot; The Impossibles -- Fluid Man, Multi-Man, and Coil-Man -- whose "secret" identity was a rock band also called "The Impossibles"; or Space Ghost, who required two children and a monkey to bail him out of danger. Even the traditional superheroes became surreally mutated in Hanna-Barbera's hands: Super-Friends' Batman and Superman were paired with two shape-shifting alien youngsters called the Wonder Twins (who also had a pet monkey), while the orange rock-skinned Thing became the alter ego of a gawky teen who had merely to say "Thing-ring, do your thing!" in order to become the classic hero (and lose some grammatical skills along the way). There's no monkey in The Specials, probably because the budget wouldn't allow it, but the Alien Orphan is a passable substitute. And such clichéd concepts as secret identity and odd origin stories are mercilessly tweaked (turns out the mutated gene that causes stretch powers also gives you mouth cancer). There's even a reference to the Super-Friends' most nonfunctional member, Aquaman, when Minute Man refers to any abilities that only work in very specific situations as "Waterman powers."

Comparisons to Mystery Men (which was actually based on an existing comic book) are inevitable, but this is by far the superior project, on a fraction of the budget, and not just because we don't have to hear that damn Smash Mouth song on the soundtrack. While Mystery Men also featured losers with inane or nonexistent powers, it still followed the essential superhero movie formula, with its big-budget, CG-enhanced sets; its obligatory scenes of heroes training and honing their abilities; and the inevitable big showdown with ultimate evil. In the end, the only substantial difference between it and the Batman films was that Batman and Robin was funnier. The Specials doesn't give us supervillains (unless you count the giant anal slug that appears briefly), or even really show any superpowers. But it is extremely funny. Thomas Haden Church has been long underutilized, and here he proves that he can carry a film, dramatically delivering such lines as "How about the time we captured and drained the amazing blister?" pausing at just the right moments to take a dramatic inbreath. Lowe and Kennedy are perfectly cast as sellout pretty boy and profane womanizer, respectively, and relative unknowns Greer, Schwartz, and Gunn also deliver fine work.

The humor in The Specials isn't for everyone. But if you still treasure your memories of Mego superhero dolls and Saturday mornings watching Hanna-Barbera's preteen head-trips, then run, fly, or teleport yourself to a theater right away and see this film.