This Week in Retro: X-Men [2000] (Patreon)

July 14, 2000: X-Men heralds the coming of the modern comic book film industry

by Diamond Feit

Let's open this week's column with a disclaimer: It's fine if you don't like comic book movies. It's also fine if you liked them but grew tired of them as they grew in dominance at the box office to the point that we started getting four or five new films each year, each lacking in a sense of auteurship as their corporate overlords pushed harder and harder to make the Brand™ the star more than the actors, writers, or directors. But for those of us who lived through the dark ages of seeing our favorite characters squandered in increasingly tepid, bland "adaptations" which underserved mass audiences and comic book fans alike, what happened 20 years ago this week was nothing short of revelatory. On July 14, 2000, we got a real Comic Book Movie...and it was good.

Obviously, X-Men was not the very first "comic book" movie. Superman was well-received in 1978, and Batman made such an impact in 1989 it changed how movies were marketed to the public forever. But by the time Superman and Batman had reached the silver screen, they were bigger than the medium that had birthed them way back in the 1930s. You didn't need to pick up a comic book to know all about their appearance, their backstories, or their abilities; I certainly never read any of their books as a kid but knew all about multiple colors of Kryptonite and a dozen of Gotham City's master criminals. What I was reading as a kid were Marvel comics, and it didn't take long for me to wonder when I would see one of their heroes end up on the big screen.

It ended up being a long wait, because—despite the above-mentioned success stories—the comic book movie was a consistent mark of failure for multiple decades. Each Superman and Batman sequel grew sillier and sillier until both franchises were put on hold for an extended hiatus. Attempts to adapt other DC superheroes to the silver screen ranged from disappointment (Supergirl) to outright disaster (Steel). But even those bombs fared better than what Marvel movies were managing in the 1980s and ’90s. Howard the Duck is a shorthand for "failure" to this day, and describing the early cinematic adaptations of Captain America and the Fantastic Four as "forgotten" is a kindness (in the case of the latter, perhaps that could be said of all their film adaptations).

Two things changed at the end of the 1990s, and both were clad all in black: Wesley Snipes starred in a blood-soaked vampire movie called Blade based on a nearly-unknown Marvel comic book, and The Matrix blew away audiences worldwide in 1999. The latter was an original story, but it clearly drew inspiration from comic books (along with martial arts movies, anime, and many other sources). Also important: Both were hit films despite being rated-R and thus not aimed at the children who were primarily viewed as the target audience for comic book films.

It's also important to note that as comic properties go, few were hotter at the time than The X-Men. While the team had been one of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's earliest creations for Marvel back in 1963, the ensuing decades had brought in new characters and risky storylines that caught the attention of readers... not to mention television executives. A 1989 animated pilot that wasn't picked up for further development eventually led to the Konami arcade game and a separate series in 1992, which directly influenced a number of other video game adaptations. By the year 2000, no one character on the team was quite the marquee draw that Superman or Batman were, but collectively they were featured across a wide swath of media. A multi-million-dollar movie adaptation seemed like a safe bet.

From the start, the production screamed, "No, really, we're doing this right." All too often, comic book adaptations were hamstrung by low budgets, unproven directors, and unknown stars. X-Men featured not only famous actors, but respected ones. Patrick Stewart was perfectly cast as Professor X, as was Oscar-nominee Ian McKellan as Magneto. Halle Berry (Storm) was a star. Anna Paquin (Rogue) was an Oscar winner. And young director Bryan Singer had already made a name for himself with The Usual Suspects, one of the most talked-about films of the 1990s. (Less talked about at that time: Allegations that Singer is a notorious, serial sexual abuser, charges which are now being taken seriously after many years and numerous victims having come forward.)

In bringing the comics to the multiplex, X-Men shuffles the makeup of the team and relegates a number of long-established characters to minor appearances (Iceman, Colossus, Kitty Pryde, Jubilee, Pyro) or omits them entirely (Angel, Beast, Nightcrawler, and Quicksilver—all of whom would all eventually show up in the sequels). Rogue is central to the film's plot but is presented as a young, confused girl in contrast to her usual depiction as a sassy adult woman. Conversely, Wolverine (played by a then-unknown Hugh Jackman) is given a huge role in the film, overshadowing the usual team leaders like Cyclops (James Marsden), Storm, and even the Professor himself. Speaking of huge, Jackman stands well over 6 feet tall, a reversal of the traditional depiction of Wolverine as a short, stocky type; famed comics writer Chris Claremont once believed Bob Hoskins would have been perfect for the role... albeit not in the year 2000.

Another major change to X-Men canon was the decision to eschew nearly all costumes as seen in the comic books, cartoons, and video games. Professor X still has his wheelchair, Magneto wears a helmet sometimes, but otherwise the characters are largely shown wearing either regular clothes or simplistic uniforms. The X-Men themselves wear a set of nearly-identical black-leather jumpsuits—a costuming choice clearly reflective of the aforementioned hit The Matrix—and even ridicule the idea that they could be wearing "spandex" instead. Notably, Mystique is given no costume or clothing at all, a somewhat plausible power move for a shapeshifter to make, but somehow Odo on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine managed to put together a uniform for himself. (Dare I suggest the casting of supermodel Rebecca Romijn mmmmaaay have inspired the filmmakers to present Mystique as nearly-nude?)

How does X-Men hold up twenty years later? Pretty well, all things considered. The script (credited to David Hayter—yes, that David Hayter, who also cameos in the film) does a good job of condensing the biggest themes of the X-Men into a tight 104 minutes. The film's opening inside a concentration camp sets the stage quite well: Everything the mutants go through in the film is just a heightened version of real-life prejudice, a topic that's more relevant today than ever. There's some no-longer-cutting-edge CGI, but most of the biggest moments in the film were done the old-fashioned way: Stunt performers, with wires, on actual sets with props.

Perhaps the most dated aspect of X-Men is the central conflict between Charles and his former friend Erik. Put simply: Magneto was right. He saw humanity at its absolute worst and he's unwilling to trust them ever again. Can you imagine having the gall to tell an actual Holocaust survivor that "mankind has evolved" as he watches a sitting legislator stoke the fires of hate on the floor of the United States Senate? Granted, Magneto's plan to murder everyone on Ellis Island (and possibly Manhattan too? Apparently he's not much of a scientist) is a non-starter, but the idea that mutants must patiently wait for the rest of humanity to accept them feels as empty as advocating for "police reform" in 2020 as the cops brutalize unarmed demonstrators protesting said brutality—on camera!

X-Men is good; it's faithful-enough to the themes of the original concept without alienating audiences unfamiliar with nearly 40 years of mutant adventures. It was also a hit, which led to an entire series of X-Men films which run the gamut from "better than the first film" to "embarrassing to experience even second-hand." Regardless of quality, the success of the X-Men film series (plural) made a lot of money for 20th Century Fox and helped set the table for the eventual rise of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Marvel Studios president Kevin Feige is even credited on X-Men as associate producer, his first time in the role. X-Men is even the start of the Stan Lee cameo as we know it: He's clearly visible on the beach as a vendor, the same role he would play in Spider-Man two years later.

Which means in the end, what better way is there to describe X-Men than as a sudden evolutionary leap forward in the way superhero films would soon be made, a true "mutant" movie in both senses of the word?