The Legend of the Batman: 75 Years in the Making

Another year, another Comic-Con come and gone. And with it, many huge announcements about many nerdy things. One of which, to everyone's delight, was the first footage for "Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice", including Batman and Superman facing off and the first photo of Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman. I'd love to say that a more surprising revelation occurred at the convention. But we didn't really get anything we didn't already know or could guess ourselves.

The Batman/Superman panel was the biggest thing to a surprise we got. But what a surprise it was. Batman's wearing "Dark Knight Returns" style armor! He and Superman are definitely going at it! Wonder Woman looks fantastic! Quite simply, we nerds went nuts. But more than just nerds went gaga over the footage. It seems the entire Internet broke in half over this. Even with footage from Avengers 2 premiering, the big talk was about the Batman/Superman film. This got me thinking, which got me ranting. Batman turns 75 this year in the comic books, an event that's being celebrated the world over. More than any other super hero, Batman has grafted himself into the very center of our popular culture.

He has almost a dozen live action films, several animated shows and movies, some incredibly popular video games, and a rouges gallery of villains just as popular (if not more so) than he is. Batman is more than just a man. He's a full-blown phenomenon. And then that got me thinking about a little film called "The Dark Knight Rises." I've analyzed it before, of course. In the two years since its release, who hasn't? But with the Bat's 75th anniversary approaching, it felt like as good a time as ever to revisit the film. A film many praised upon release, and then almost immediately decried as being inferior to its predecessors.

In many ways, "Rises" is indeed the weak link of Chris Nolan's "Dark Knight" trilogy. The eight year time gap means half the plot points are set up by exposition, violating the film medium's sacred "show, don't tell" rule. There are several leaps in logic in the film itself, defying the realism of the last two movies. And while the epic, ambitious scope is to be admired, the wealth of characters makes it hard sometimes to narrow the film's focus. These are problems only several repeat viewings turn up, as on the surface "Rises" is still an entertaining experience. Entertaining, yes, but flawed as well.

But unlike "Spider-Man 3" or "X-Men: The Last Stand", this third chapter feels like an integral part of the series, and doesn't dishonor what came before. And upon my latest viewing, a thought occurred to me that completely changed my outlook on the film. A thought that, funnily enough, coincided with Batman's 75th anniversary, which feeds into what WB is doing with the Bats/Supes crossover. In order for this thought to make sense, a little background is in order. And don't worry, I won't take up ten paragraphs explaining it.

There are a lot of people who theorize that superheroes are a modern mythology. Our modern day heroes have taken the place of the Greek gods and demigods we once idolized in eons past. Just look at the parallels between the stories of Moses and Jesus compared to Superman, and you'll see there's some justification here. But while Superman may have the most mythic of backgrounds (and indeed, his has been built into a sort of American mythology), Batman's enduring popularity has given him a greater opportunity to become a modern legend. That derives from the fact that, unlike most other heroes, Batman is 100% mortal.

Joseph Campbell's monomyth, or Hero's Journey, outlines a basic story that all mythic heroes go on. Moses, Jesus, Osiris, Odysseus, Achilles, Perseus-all of them go on this basic hero's quest. They start from humble beginnings but have a part of the divine in them. They have an interesting relationship with their fathers, who are often absent yet come to define them. They go on a great quest, often of a spiritual nature, that involves slaying, taming, or resisting literal or symbolic monsters. In order to do so, they must confront some form of innate evil, descending into the underworld and reaching their lowest point. They will then emerge triumphantly from this trial, obtain a form of divine wisdom, and return to save their world, becoming a true hero.

The reason this basic quest is so fundamentally effective is because it outlines a sort of wish fulfillment we all want to achieve. We want to believe we have some sort of innate power, that will allow us to conquer the demons we all have and save those we love. All these heroes posses those traits, but what makes them so great is that, despite their superhuman natures, they are all innately human. While Superman often has this mythic aspect due to his human upbringing, modern society often focuses on his alien heritage and powers, saying no one can relate to him.

Batman, on the other hand, despite his billionaire status, saw his parents gunned down from a young age (a very real fear) and sought to master his rage by becoming fear personified. He's a self-made man, with abilities born from physical and mental training. It's no wonder he's more popular and relatable in our cultural mindset. So on a fundamental level, Batman fits the criteria of the Hero's Journey better, since he's a man who goes on a great quest to become more than human to defeat his opponents. It's about a man so dedicated to an ideal that he becomes superhuman, despite his still present mortality.

It is this aspect that Chris Nolan's "Dark Knight" trilogy captures so well. "Batman Begins" captures the essence of the Hero's Journey, with Bruce leaving Gotham, questing to gain knowledge, and returning to save his city. "The Dark Knight" continues that theme by showing Batman's rise to become a demonic figure to the mob, even inspiring imitators. But it is "The Dark Knight Rises" that cements Batman's legendary in-universe status. And by doing so, celebrates Batman's iconic standing in popular culture, both in the past and future.

Think about the film's plot for a minute. Bruce begins the film a crippled shut-in. Batman has been vilified by Gotham City, while Harvey Dent made a martyr. Bane comes in as this mythic figure, spouting "no one cared who I was until I put on the mask", and talking of how he was born and molded in darkness. Bruce tries becoming Batman again, hoping to recapture his legendary status, but secretly wishing for death as he is without a true purpose. Then Bane utterly breaks him, stuffs him in a literal pit, and proceeds to dismantle all of Batman's good work by demystifying the legend of Harvey Dent, exposing his corruption.

So as we begin the film, Batman is made profoundly mortal while Bane and a post-mortem Harvey Dent are like modern myths. But over the course of the film, Dent is brought down to humanity again thanks to Bane, who also cripples Bruce to utterly remind him of his mortality. Bruce then rebuilds himself in prison, learning of Bane's mythic origins, and then ascends the Pit and returns to Gotham to save it. This is 100% Joseph Campbell in its execution, building Bruce back up from a man to a myth. It also fulfills the promise of "Batman Begins", where Ras Al Ghul told Bruce he'd become legend if he devoted himself to an ideal.

Bruce returns to Gotham, now fully Batman again, and utterly destroys Bane. He damages Bane's mask, exposing him to pain, and giving him a weakness. With this, Bane can now taste the mortality he gave Bruce. He is simply a man, not a myth. And then Talia comes in, revealing Bane never climbed out of the Pit. Many fans hated this revelation, as it removed Bane's "cool" factor and seemingly made him subservient. First of all, Bane's final actions defied Talia's direct orders, meaning he was never a lackey.

Second of all, Bane's demystification is the entire point. As Bruce ascends from man to myth, Bane is knocked down from myth to man. He's made a mortal with mortal feelings, in this case love for Talia. And once he's defeated by Batman and his myth unmade, he's rendered fully mortal. Cue Catwoman and her mounted guns, to give Bane a swift end after he's served his purpose. Anti-climactic? Maybe. But earned nonetheless, especially since Bane's ultimate demise came at the hands of the very woman who betrayed Bruce to him.

And then we approach the end of the film, where Batman cements his own mythic status by sacrificing himself for Gotham. As Batman dies, Bruce gets to live, emerging once again as a man who can now find peace. But Bruce can only emerge a man because he's fulfilled his purpose with Batman. He's made him an undying symbol, a concept that's larger than life. He's become a true mythical figure. Don't believe me? Explain the statue immortalizing Batman, followed by Robin taking up the mantle at the end. That entire sequence wasn't a direct sequel set-up. It was signifying that Batman is now an idea, that can transcend one man because it's larger than that now.

As if that wasn't enough, think about all the apparent logic gaps people like to complain about. The back-healing rope. The flaming Bat symbol on the bridge. Bruce's mysterious re-entry into Gotham. His survival of the bomb blast. All these actions only succeed in cementing Batman's status as a mythic figure. Just listen to those actions and tell me that's not something a mythical hero would do. Or better yet, a comic book hero. Because despite the Nolan series' penchant for realism, what Nolan is doing here is ditching the logic for mythology building.

The eight year time gap, despite a new reliance on exposition, is key to this. It allows for a new generation to grow up seeing Batman as a legend, personified in Robin John Blake, who is ultimately chosen to carry that legend forward. All those logic gaps may piss people off, but it only serves to cement that Batman is now a mysterious, mythical, god-like figure who can achieve the impossible. In other words, you know that persistent meme that Batman can do anything just because "he's Batman"? Well, "Rises" is just creating a situation where that's true. Bane's takeover of Gotham leaves the people so desperate, they need a mythic figure to save them. Batman is that figure, and save them he does.

But the real key here is that ending, where Robin takes over the mantle of the Bat. This is actually where Nolan got meta, in the best way imaginable. That final scene is Nolan stating that Batman comes in many forms, with many faces. How many actors have stepped behind the cowl? Between Adam West, Michael Keaton, George Clooney, and the voice of Kevin Conroy, a fair few. And as we now know, the legacy will continue, good or bad, with Ben Affleck. And even if Affleck is terrible, the history of the Bat proves he will survive, and return in a new form, as all myths do.

The ending of "The Dark Knight Rises" proved both in-universe and in a meta sense that Batman will always survive. He has 75 years worth of comic books, games, shows, and movies to prove it, all with different tones, styles, and even characters. But if the revelation of "Rises" wasn't enough to cement Batman's mythic status in our culture, the upcoming "Batman v. Superman" film definitely will. The Comic-Con teaser showed an armored Batman lighting the Bat-signal on a stormy night. The signal illuminates a flying Superman, who turns on his heat vision to begin their fight. More than anything, this footage shows Batman as a mythic figure because he now has the means to take on a literal demigod.

As I've said before, Superman has his roots in Judeo-Christian myths, and the latest film, "Man of Steel", tried to emphasize this mythological subtext. But "Man of Steel" failed where "The Dark Knight" trilogy succeeded because it didn't emphasize its protagonist's human core. Clark Kent's entire human upbringing was glossed over in flashbacks, whereas his Kryptonian background was given a 20 minute opening prologue. Zach Snyder tried to make us care for Clark when he had him kill Zod to protect a human family.

Obviously the intention was to show Clark putting his adopted race over his mother race. But if the Zod fight just destroyed a city, and Clark made no attempt to even show concern, can we really buy he's on our side? Snyder was so focused on making Superman's powers and alien background cool that he forgot it's the human side of him that gives him his power. He realized it too late, and forgot to reinforce it. Thus while both MoS and TDK focused on their hero's legendary status, "Rises" succeeded by showing Bruce's human failings, while "Man of Steel" did not. Nolan gave us the man so when he was made a myth, it was earned. Snyder tried giving us the myth we all wanted, but without showing us the man first, it felt hollow.

So how can this be corrected in the sequel? Well, if you want to truly mystify Superman, you have to do the same thing that Nolan did to Batman. And I don't mean make his mythos dark and gritty. I mean focus on the human element first, for in that lies the key to creating a myth. Mythic heroes come from emphasizing their humanity, so people can root for them when they do something heroic. Now that Superman (in-universe and in a meta context) is hated for the Zod fight, Batman will come in to knock him down a peg. To prove gods can bleed. A mortal going against an immortal, to prove he can be hurt. That's the stuff that myths are made of.

Now that "Rises" proved and celebrated Batman's mythic status, "BvS" will cement it and further it by having these two titans of comic book culture square off. In doing so, Batman will show he's worthy of being superhuman despite his mortality, while Superman will prove his own humanity despite his alien gifts. As for Wonder Woman and the inevitable Justice League? Diana literally comes from Greek mythology. She'll be there to help Superman and Batman form a modern Greek pantheon, that being the League. And with Batman proving his worth to this pantheon, he'll be made a literal demigod, proving without a doubt his new mythic status.

If done right, "BvS" will not only continue elevating Batman's mythos, but prove DC characters in general are worthy of their god-like status as well, in more ways than just showing off their powers. But even if the film fails, we at least know that Batman himself will endure. He's endured for 75 years, and will continue to do so. The comics proved that. The films have now proved that. And the legacy of the Bat will still prove it, another 75 years from now and for decades thereafter.

Comics To Film: The Downside of Synergy

San Diego Comic Con 2014 is only one week away. And yet, this past week has seen a huge upsurge in comic book news. News that's come through the most unlikely of avenues. If I told you ten years ago that major comic and comic movie news would come through The View, the Colbert Report, and Entertainment Weekly, you'd probably haul me away in a straight jacket. And yet this week alone, we not only got our first official photos and plot points for Avengers: Age of Ultron, but major comic announcements that Thor will now be a woman and the Falcon will become the new Captain America.

Now keep in mind, shake-ups to the status quo happen in mainstream comics all the time. In fact, they happen pretty much every few months, as a way to gain new readers. But what's so perplexing about these latest announcements are that Marvel, and their parent company Disney, are using major talk shows to break the news. That means they want an audience, one that spreads far beyond your typical Tuesday afternoon comic shop crowd. In short: Disney/Marvel want casual readers and moviegoers to pay attention to these new developments. But what's the point, especially since we know these changes won't last in the long run? The point, true believers, is that there's an ulterior motive here.

Let's consider what we know about the current state of the Marvel and DC films and their comic book counterparts. DC rebooted their entire line up a few years back with the New 52, creating changes not only to superhero costumes but their personal histories as well. Compare Henry Cavill's Man of Steel suit to the Superman suit from the New 52. Then take into account how the direct-to-DVD animated films DC are making are now adapting New 52 story arcs (Justice League War and the upcoming Throne of Atlantis). Look at the few real announcements we know about Batman v. Superman, and you'll see how Cyborg and Aquaman, two of the founding New 52 Justice Leaguers, are set to appear. From where I'm standing, it sounds like DC's New 52 reboot was a way to streamline their continuity, not so much for new readers, but to have a readily available source to draw from for animated and live action films.

But that's nothing compared to the synergy between Marvel films and comics, since no one can question they pretty much run the superhero film genre right now. The Spider-Man comics had a year long arc where arch foe Doctor Octopus swapped brains with Peter Parker, taking over his body. While there was a fan outcry at first, readers generally warmed up to Spider-Ock and found some of the best told Spider-Man comics in years. Then when The Amazing Spider-Man 2 hit theaters, Peter got his body back. Coincidence? More like an attempt to create synergy with the films to draw in new readers. Peter even fights Electro upon returning, with the villain now revamped to look like his film counterpart.

Then we have the X-Men and Fantastic Four. Several websites have run a rumor that Marvel is "disowning" the FF due to their rivalry with Fox. While this doesn't make sense from a business standpoint, we do know that the Fantastic Four books are being cancelled in favor of properties that Disney can directly adapt. Look at the image at the top of the page, and you'll find no Fantastic Four anywhere (no, the flaming guy is not the Human Torch). We don't even see fan favorite Wolverine. That could have something to do with Marvel's heavily publicized Death of Wolverine story arc, which is posed to finally kill off the character.

Barring the fact that this probably won't last long (what superhero death ever does?), this not only removes Logan from Marvel's roster for a while, but conveniently provides a story that Fox could potentially adapt into their X-Men films. Face it, Hugh Jackman won't be around forever. He's already played the character seven times, and is poised to do it again for another X film and solo Wolverine film. Could Wolverine 3 adapt this Death story, to write Jackman out of the pictures? It's a strong possibility.

And while this move on Marvel's part doesn't really impact what Fox does creatively with X-Men and FF, it seems like Disney is strategically positioning the characters it owns film rights to in favor of those it doesn't. Spider-Man is the exception, since Spidey is still the face of Marvel and Disney has a favorable relationship with Sony. Marvel's upcoming comic event Spider-Verse unites every version of Spidey from parallel dimensions. Sony could end up using this in future films if they are indeed putting their Spidey series in limbo, after ASM2's under performance. Opening up multiple Spider-Men would be an easy way to recast and reboot the character on film, while not exactly disavowing what came before.

So if Marvel is indeed pushing X-Men and FF aside in favor of their other characters, then this new initiative exists to give consumers a taste of what's coming in the films. Why else use the View, Colbert, and Entertainment Weekly to highly publicize changes to the comic book canon? The fact of the matter is, MCU mainstays like Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, and Chris Hemsworth won't be around forever. If the franchise is to continue without them but keep their continuity going forward, others must take up the mantle. So how do you reboot Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor without actually rebooting them? Well, if you've highly publicized that comics Thor will now be a woman, and Cap will now be Falcon (just introduced in the Winter Soldier film) then it's easy to assume these characters are being pitched as replacements for the films.

As for the still Tony Stark Iron Man? The upcoming Superior Iron Man comics mention Tony will be going in a darker, more cynical direction. That doesn't sound like somewhere RDJ would like to go, should he continue playing the character. And yet, in Entertainment Weekly's Age of Ultron scoop, they mention how Ultron is the corrupted leader of Tony's Iron Legion drone army. Ultron has a personality modeled after Stark's, specifically his cynicism. Could the events of Age of Ultron lead Tony on a path to becoming the Superior Iron Man they're now pushing in the comics? I don't want to say "never", but given the amount of publicity, it could very well happen.

"But wait!" you cry. "Isn't this all just circumstantial? Where's the real proof?" Well, look again at the top image. What do you notice? Aside from the changes to the Big 3, we have Winter Soldier and Deathlok, both inducted into the MCU this year. Then we have Scarlet Witch, Doctor Strange, and Ant-Man, all set to make their cinematic debuts in the next few years. That leaves Angela, Thor's new sister, and the Inhumans Medusa and Inferno. The Inhumans are heavily rumored to be a property the MCU wants to adapt, and given their cosmic ties and the ongoing Thanos arc, they could easily squeeze their way into one of the now six empty slots in the Phase 3 release schedule. And if Angela is getting this much exposure, she could find her way into a new Thor film, maybe as a way to shake up the Thor/Loki dynamic. Also, keep in mind that should FemThor and FalconCap catch on, it would expand the MCU's diversity, drawing in an even wider film-going audience.

So it seems that mainstream comics now exist to provide synergy with their films. Why is that a big deal? People always seem to get angry at bad adaptations. But good or bad, the people making these adaptations realize they're drawing from a different medium. In this case, comic books. And while comics and films thrive off visuals, their mediums are still different. Films are meant, in their most basic function, to be mainstream, so they can entertain a wide audience. Comics may have a stigma of only catering to teenage boys, but the best can deliver sophisticated stories that are specifically anti-mainstream. There's a reason that some of the greatest comic stories ever made came from the counterculture movement of the '60s and '70s, at a time when mainstream media (like the Adam West Batman TV show) was largely schlock catering to the masses.

Comic book adaptations started getting good when filmmakers saw the innovative stories comics were willing to publish. Stories some film producers wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Recall the decade long battle to get a dark and gothic Batman film made, after mainstream culture had written the character off as campy due to Adam West. None of them read the then current Batman comics, where Frank Miller's Year One and Dark Knight Returns made him a dark avenger of the night. Those comics inspired the tone of Tim Burton's first Batman film, and then years later, the story of Chris Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy.

Comics have always been at their best when they go against the grain, and if the stories are written well enough and become popular, Hollywood will come knocking. The problem now is that since comics and comic fandom has entered the cultural zeitgeist, comics (at least the mainstream Marvel and DC) don't get opportunities to tell innovative stories anymore. Comics have gone from anti-mainstream to mainstream itself, all because of the popularity of the movies. So to cater to that mainstream audience, publishers are using comics as either tie-ins or pitches for adaptations.

Now I admit, sometimes a popular adaptation can be a boon to comics. Look at the exposure the D-List Guardians of the Galaxy title is getting now. Look at the upcoming animated Big Hero 6 movie. Remember what Robert Downey Jr. did for Iron Man, or how Bruce Timm and Paul Dini canonized Harley Quinn, a creation for an animated Batman show. But while that's all well and good, the sheer wealth of superhero films means the very concept has now transcended the comic medium. It's now a film genre, one that's bringing in millions at a time. So to keep the film genre going, comics are tying in, hoping for more exposure and more readership. While I understand this need, especially from a business standpoint, it's not going to help comics grow as a medium.

Like I said before, films and comics are two entirely different mediums of entertainment. And as such, they play by different rules. These rules may constrict both mediums at times, but they give each one their own distinct identity. To force the rules of cinema on a print medium like comics will only limit them, not find them more exposure. You can look at making Thor a woman or Captain America black as a risk, but it's a gimmick meant for increased readership, not an innovative story. As controversial as the Spider-Man/Doc Ock swap was, that was an interesting, comic-based story that allowed the franchise to explore brand new territory. And it wasn't meant as a movie tie-in, given that the minute a new film came out, the series reverted to status quo.

It's not wrong to make comics that cater to a wide audience. But that doesn't mean their stories should exist only as gimmicks. Because while retailers might sell a lot of first issues, casual fans won't suddenly become hard core comic geeks. They go to the movies or watch the shows for a superhero fix. Wikipedia will fill in the gaps if they're that curious about the source. History has proven that comics thrive when the mainstream isn't paying attention to them.

We look at how Netflix and HBO have given birth to niche audiences for unique genre shows. Comics work the same way. It's great to have comics accepted and embraced by the mainstream, but once they start catering to just casual fans instead of real comics fans, the stories wind up short. Comics may exist to sell, but if, like movies, they're treated as merely products, then they'll suffer from the same creative drought everyone believes Hollywood is currently stuck in.

Just look at the comics of the '90s, with their shiny variant covers and uber-violent pandering to the grunge era. The Death of Superman arc makes news headlines, everyone thinks comics can sell to casual audiences, and then the industry nearly goes bankrupt. Before you know it Marvel has to sell their characters' film rights to keep themselves afloat, and you have the situation we're in now where we can't have a true Marvel Cinematic Universe. The point is, no one benefits when publishers try to make comics appealing to the lowest common denominator. The superhero genre may have gone mainstream, but the comics medium itself is still for a niche audience. Making announcements on the View will not change that.

Now does this mean I think comics should only cater to uber nerds? Far from it. As I've said, comics provide a medium where a lot of sophisticated stories can be told, for anyone of any age group. And if a publisher wants to heavily promote a comic they think is a game changer, I say full speed ahead. I applaud attempts to introduce casual fans to the wonders of comics. I myself got into them through the movies, with Sam Raimi and Chris Nolan showing me the wonders of Spider-Man and Batman.

But a good comic should stand on its own, and be appealing enough that casual and long-time readers can get into it. A good story has that power. A story made as a marketing gimmick, solely to tie in to a popular film, doesn't have that effect. And that doesn't mean licensed comics, like Dark Horse's Star Wars books, are complete crap too. It just means the best comics should focus simply on good storytelling, instead of specifically manufacturing books for an audience that probably won't even care to read them.

Comic adaptations may be the "it" genre right now, but they won't be forever. They'll fade just as any other genre has. But the comics themselves will go on, and keep finding new ways to push storytelling forward with its unique medium. This year's 75th anniversary for Batman comics is proof of that. Synergy between comics and film can be a wonderful thing, but it can also lead to ruin for one or both mediums. But if nothing else, at least we get San Diego Comic Con out of it next week.

Consider the Fourquel

Independence Day may have come and gone, but Fourth of July weekend continues. So in honor of all things "four", I'm asking myself a grueling question. Why oh why do movie four-quels suck? Let's backtrack for a bit. Many moons ago, I made a three-part rant about film trilogies. Specifically, the studio obsession with making them. Studios seem to love the number 3. So what on God's green Earth would ever possess them to make a fourth? Most trilogy closers aren't even done right, and yet filmmakers add more on anyway.

In my past rant, I did talk about franchises going beyond trilogies. I talked of the filmmakers thinking, for whatever reason, that their series still had potential for further stories. Ultimately, that's the reasoning behind most four-quels (besides the obvious money). I'm not here to talk about exactly WHY four-quels are made, so much as HOW. And by that I mean, how does one approach a fourth chapter in a film series? To be honest, there's no right way to do a four-quel. There are plenty of wrong ways, as history's proven. Exactly why is that? What is it about trying to execute a fourth chapter that almost universally leads to suckage? If we look at the four-quels we actually have, we may find the answer.

Now when I say "four-quel", I don't necessarily mean it's the fourth film in the series chronologically. I'm talking the fourth film released, meaning reboots and prequels aren't off the table. This is important to understand, because it's key to the thinking that goes into four-quels. Even when a four-quel is a sequel to prior films, it functions similarly to a soft reboot. That is the key to most four-quels sucking. Still don't follow? Allow me to explain.

Consider the trilogy. As outlined in my three-part rant, there's something appealing about franchises that come in 3 to filmmakers. It ultimately comes down to the fact that a good trilogy functions as one long movie. The reason for this is because individual films often have a three-act structure. Act One introduces the characters and the world. Act Two puts the characters in some kind of conflict. Act Three resolves the conflict and shows the characters going through a profound change.

If one approaches a trilogy like one long movie, then each film is like one of three acts. Hence, Movie One is the intro, Movie Two the rising conflict, and Movie Three the climax/conclusion. It's appealing to studios because it allows maximum franchise potential while (if done correctly) providing emotional heft. The three act structure as outlined is like a simplified form of Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey, a theory where all myths and legends can be boiled down to a basic formula. It's reused so much because it appeals to our basic human nature, to undergo a challenge and emerge the better for it. This is why trilogies like Lord of the Rings and the original Star Wars are so powerful, because they tell a basic hero's journey over the natural course of three films.

So, by the end of part 3, we have an airtight conclusion to our conflict. Audiences feel they've gone on this great journey with these characters, and have gotten a proper goodbye. But because everyone's gone to see the finale, studios look at the money rolling in and decide a fourth film is "required". Except that in terms of story, it often isn't. This is because the story naturally came to an end in part 3. Or even worse, a standalone story was stretched into a trilogy, and by the end it's been creatively milked to near-death (cough cough *Matrix/Pirates* cough). If a trilogy is a single entity told in three parts, then if a fourth film is attempted, it's the equivalent of making a follow-up after a logical conclusion.

It's why most people feel a fourth film is when a franchise "milks it" or "jumps the shark". Or, in Indiana Jones's case, "nukes the fridge." A fourth film isn't natural, often an unnecessary add-on to an already great (or at least semi-decent) trilogy. Filmmakers are often aware of this, so they come up with multiple options. Option one: your "trilogy" is really a series of loosely connected standalone stories. As such, it's relatively easy to make a fourth film that's a direct sequel, because the series doesn't have an over-arcing narrative.

Examples include Lethal Weapon, Shrek, Jaws, the original Superman and Batman films, Rambo, Indiana Jones, and any horror franchise ever made. The problem here is that a loosely connected film series often adheres to a story formula. Indy goes after a magical artifact. John McClane fights terrorists in X location. After four films this formula gets tired, especially since each film often expands said formula.

Think of the backlash to the nuked fridge in Indy. After rolling boulders, crashing planes, and falling tanks, Spielberg tops this basic formula by having Indy survive a nuke inside a lead-lined fridge. The basic formula, in an attempt to top itself, has gotten so silly it alienates the audience. As such, no one can get into it. For a more recent example, see Transformers: Age of Extinction, although that gets into another four-quel option.

This option follows a trilogy with an over-arcing narrative, ending with part 3. So for part 4, the filmmakers try to justify its existence by engineering a brand new story arc, often to start a new (what else?) trilogy. Filmmakers love the trilogy structure so much that if more films are made, they'll often either come as a trilogy or with the intention of making one. Examples include the aforementioned Age of Extinction, The Bourne Legacy, Alien: Resurrection, Terminator: Salvation, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Pirates 4, Star Wars Episode I, and The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

Star Wars and the Hobbit managed to spark actual trilogies, and Transformers 4 likely will as well. Pirates has yet to be seen, but could happen. Alien continued and Terminator will, but not as direct follow-ups. This is because the new arcs were too different, alienating the core audience with a cloned Ripley, future Skynet war, or a Bourne film without Bourne. So while the franchise is profitable enough to continue, the series will now go in a different direction. See how Wolverine Origins was so bad that the franchise was retooled afterwards into First Class, followed soon after by a proper solo Wolverine flick.

Star Wars and Hobbit managed to succeed due to the strength of their franchises. However, it's telling that their follow-up arcs were NOT direct continuations of the original trilogies. They were instead prequels, with arcs that lead directly into their predecessors. Star Wars is planning to buck the trend with a new trilogy coming out soon, but even that will have a new story arc and new characters to focus on. Often when a new follow-up arc is made, it will either scale back the budget to be more affordable (Pirates 4) or blow up the budget to outdo part 3 (Transformers 4). This will either give the new arc lower stakes and thus not seem as important, or make the stakes so high there's no human connection (again, Pirates vs. Transformers).

This is why most four-quels often become prequels. It allows filmmakers to work around the problem by literally going back to the beginning, or focus on new characters with new problems. But unless those characters are as compelling as the original crew, people won't care for them. See the Star Wars prequels for proof. The prequels also show that just because it's set chronologically earlier, there's still a temptation to make the stakes "bigger". As such, the lightsaber battles go from tense duels in closed quarters to wide open, acrobatic set pieces (compare the Vader duels in V and VI to the Darth Maul duel in I).

So, knowing this, some filmmakers decide that it's toxic to even attempt another film in that canon, sequel or prequel. This is where we get the reboot. Amazing Spider-Man, this year's Robocop, and the upcoming Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice are the best examples here. After a conclusive trilogy, filmmakers decided the character's next film appearance will be a reboot, because a sequel'd be too anti-climactic and a prequel unappealing. Thus while it's technically the fourth film in the franchise, it's not a true four-quel. This can either work wonders or backfire heavily. But if a franchise must continue, odds are a reboot will do better at injecting new life into it, while keeping the original trilogy standalone for those purists out there.

This however begs the question: "can an in-canon four-quel actually succeed?" It doesn't happen very often, but it can. And this is where our final four-quel options come in. Either the films are serialized enough that the formula won't tire out, or there's an over-arcing narrative that naturally extends beyond a trilogy. What do I mean by this? Think about Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, Live Free or Die Hard, Rocky IV, 007 Thunderball, Fast & Furious, Star Trek IV, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

The majority of those films were part of series that didn't have over-arcing stories. Their success lay in their formula, which was so popular it kept people coming back in droves. Thus, unlike other in-canon four-quels, these films can adhere to formula without tiring out . But at this point, the series either had to refresh the formula and make it seem new again (M: I: IV, Star Trek IV), or offer entries that started an over-arcing plot (Fast and Furious). Bond is the exception, since it has the magic formula that keeps people coming back even 50 years later.

Harry Potter is the case of an over-arcing plot that goes beyond a trilogy, so part 4 is simply the next chapter rather than an unnecessary entry. It works for Harry, but only because it's based on literature. Most Hollywood sagas begin as trilogies. And for most of them, they stay trilogies until years later. Notice for Die Hard's case (and Rambo, Indy, Star Wars, and The Hobbit) the four-quel came at least a decade after the original trilogy ended, to build up demand for a follow-up entry. This is the case for next year's Jurassic World and Mad Max: Fury Road. Like the in-canon four-quels I've mentioned, they too are trying to set off a new story arc, bolstered by an entirely new cast. But because it's years later, the formula that seemed tired is now heavily missed, enough to send people flocking to theaters for part 4.

While an in-canon four-quel can work, it often doesn't. This is because, as I've stated, the four-quel either continues a now stale formula or starts an entirely different, often anti-climactic story arc. Four-quels are often made entirely for money, which is apparent in the way filmmakers construct them. Creative success comes from either embracing or refreshing the formula so it's not stale, or building a new, organic story arc that actually works. It's a lot harder than it looks, mostly because of Hollywood's trilogy obsession. And too often, successful trilogies breed terrible four-quels. There are some franchises that I'd love to see further adventures from. But until Hollywood knows how to get four-quels right, films are better off in threes.