Some things in life take very little effort. Puking. Sneezing. Bumping into things. And also, sadly, fudging comedy. Especially black comedy, which walks a razor wire at all times. Misjudge or miscast it, and you risk taking a tumble into the critical abyss of Very Bad Things.
Such is the case with Super, a sort of covered-market Kick Ass, in which Rainn Wilson's nebbishy cuckhold is 'fingered by God' one day and transforms into 'The Crimson Bolt', a psychopathic masked avenger prone to brutally braining miscreants (or queue jumpers) with a wrench.
Tonally, it's terribly uneven; as a self-fulfilment satire, it's unoriginal and laboured; while a shrill performance from Ellen Page playing an equally damaged sidekick hardly helps matters.
If you're looking for a moving, melancholy and darkly hilarious look at vigilantism, you'd do worse than track down Christian Watt's brilliantly quirky Channel 4 documentary 'Superheroes Of Suburbia.' By contrast, Super just doesn't deliver on its title.
Such is the case with Super, a sort of covered-market Kick Ass, in which Rainn Wilson's nebbishy cuckhold is 'fingered by God' one day and transforms into 'The Crimson Bolt', a psychopathic masked avenger prone to brutally braining miscreants (or queue jumpers) with a wrench.
Tonally, it's terribly uneven; as a self-fulfilment satire, it's unoriginal and laboured; while a shrill performance from Ellen Page playing an equally damaged sidekick hardly helps matters.
If you're looking for a moving, melancholy and darkly hilarious look at vigilantism, you'd do worse than track down Christian Watt's brilliantly quirky Channel 4 documentary 'Superheroes Of Suburbia.' By contrast, Super just doesn't deliver on its title.