Film Review: Black Adam (2022)
It’s true: I’m a Dwayne Johnson fan.
But, before you go questioning my competence or sanity, let me explain. I’ve been following the career of Mr. Johnson since the “Rocky Sucks” chants started way back in 1997. After that was the Nation of Domination, the Corporation, the Rock ‘n’ Sock Connection, countless fantastic matches, and some of the best mic work of all time. You see, I’m a wrestling fan, and for decades, The Rock has been one of my all-time favorite performers.
Does my love for “The People’s Champion” influence any criticism I may have for the acting career of Dwayne Johnson? Maybe, but I’m no fool, and neither is Johnson. He knows better than anyone what kind of movies he makes, and good or bad, I’ve got an odd sort of admiration for that.
There are exceptions to Johnson’s less-than-stellar output [what can I say, I liked the Jumanji movies, and absolutely loved his version of “You Ain’t Woman Enough (To Take My Man)” in Be Cool], but by and large, his films aren’t something I would have an easy time recommending. Which brings me to Black Adam — a movie that could have been something special, but winds up something of a dud, despite my love for “The Great One.”
Johnson is not the movie’s problem, though. In fact, his deadpan approach to the material is refreshing in that, instead of contrived brooding and unsuccessful attempts at sympathy for the uber-privileged (I’m looking at you Batman), Johnson’s Teth-Adam (as he’s known throughout the film) gets right to the point by coldly smiting his enemies big and small. Adam is a violent dude, and a royally pissed off one at that — something Johnson pulls off surprisingly well compared to his pack of rather cartoonish contemporaries.
Rather, the problem lies in the film’s complete lack of modern genre awareness — a running problem with many DCEU movies. If you’re of a certain age, you may remember with little fondness the dark days before superhero movies took the world by storm (roughly 2000, when the first X-Men installment came out). In those dreary years, comic book fans had to settle for the fever dream that was Captain America in 1990, the oddity of Dolph Lundgren as The Punisher in 1989, and the abysmal live action version of Spawn in 1997.
Had Black Adam been made pre-X-Men, its format (a tidy origin story wrapped neatly around effects-driven property damage and the absolute bare minimum of character development) wouldn’t have seemed strange at all, and would likely have become a cult favorite among die-hards.
But, as we know now, the superhero genre has evolved well past these primitive beginnings, and fans have come to expect a certain amount of intelligence to go along with their wanton excesses of destruction. We want a well-told story that goes beyond what Black Adam meagerly gives us, and we want it presented in a way that is compelling rather than perfunctory.
Aside from Johnson’s charisma as the big bad anti-hero, and the startling amount of amusingly graphic (if rather bloodless) violence, Black Adam misses out on too many opportunities to step away from the pack and really grab ahold of its potential.
In short, it doesn’t give us anything new — just the same lazy storytelling beats we’ve seen dozens of times already. And while I’m not someone who demands my superhero movies be anywhere near Oscar caliber, I do expect them, by now, to be thoughtful about their story, characterization, and presentation. Black Adam is passé, and I for one am tired of passé.
