PeterDavid.net

Getting Away With It

January 3, 1992

What is it that makes a really, really good villain?

There are tons of them: Some of them memorable, many of them not. They certainly outnumber the heroes--in fact, if the heroes did not have right on their side, they'd have been obliterated long ago. Also, villains are the ones with the game plan.

Heroes are reactive. They exist to stop the villains, period. By and large, they don't have any sort of grand scheme to better the world. They don't use their powers or minds for the general betterment of humanity (with the occasional exception of The Squadron Supreme or Miracle Man). If villains did not exist, heroes would have nothing to do. They'd be bored.

Villains, by contrast, can have a variety of goals. If heroes did not exist, villains would not be bored. Villains would be in charge. So heroes need villains, but villains could get along just fine without heroes, thank you very much.

But what specifically elevates a bad guy from mere villain, above good villain, above really good villain, to really, really good arch-enemy? What kicks him upward into the stratosphere of super-popular nasty?

Is it a powerfully alliterative name, such as Doctor Doom? Is it a memorable visual, such as Darkseid? Sheer inventiveness of the schemes, such as the Joker?

Certainly those factor in. But I believe that there's another element to big-time supervillainy that really does not get focussed on:

The really, really great villains get away with it.

They are above punishment. They are above the law. And even when they're supposedly subjected to the legal system and slapped in jail, it is painfully clear to all concerned that they are simply catching their breath. The only reason they're in jail is because they haven't bothered to plan their escape yet. But as soon as they've decided it's time to leave, they're gone. In the meantime, they're getting free room and board on the taxpayer's dime.

Think about it: Who's Marvel's top, most renowned villain? Gotta be Doc Doom. Here's a guy who defined being above the law--to quote "Not Brand Echh," he's "the boss of a whole, complete country!" He's got diplomatic immunity. He can do anything, anything he wants to the Fantastic Four, and all they can do is act in self-defense. He cannot, however, be called to task for his actions.

(Actually, I've often wondered about something. Is it enough that Doom is the monarch of Latveria, or does the U.S. have to have diplomatic ties with Latveria in order for him to have immunity? If it's the latter case, then all that has to happen is that the U.S. severs ties with Latveria, recalls their own diplomats [have we ever seen any U.S. diplomats to Latveria?] and bam, the FF can nail Doom's armored ass.)

Who else is big at Marvel? Really big? Well, there's Magneto. He's had setbacks (such as being turned into an infant) but during the time that he was a villain, he was also waaaay above the law. Proof? Because eventually he was brought to trial for his crimes in international court, and what happened shortly thereafter? He stopped being a villain. By being brought to justice, he lost that upper-class air that made him a true arch enemy. So it's not surprising that, in recent days, Magneto's return to villainy has been accompanied by the reinstatement of his "You Can't Touch This" attitude. The villain-turned-hero Magneto says, "Put me on trial, I'll have my say." The hero-turned-villain Magneto says, "I'm above your laws; I'm creating my own haven for mutants, so sod off."

Meantime, in the DC universe, arguably the top two bad guys are the aforementioned Joker, and the ever-popular Lex Luthor. Now in the old days, as noted, even their occasional jailing seemed more along the lines of humoring the penal system. Luthor was so undisturbed by the notion of incarceration that he frequently wore his prison grays even after he'd busted out.

But these are the new days, the new DC--and, consciously or unconsciously, DC has made efforts to bring their top nasties in line with the notion that the best bad guy is one who can laugh off justice.

The Joker is literally doing so. Now you can't even jail him. He can never, ever be held responsible for his actions because he's a nutball, and tucked away at Arkham Asylum. Arkham is more than a simple replacement for the prisons that were just weigh stations in the Joker's career.

At least when he was in prison, the Joker was ostensibly serving some sort of sentence. But in Arkham, there's no pretense that he's doing anything more than biding his time until the next go-around. Hell, if we can believe the distasteful ending of "Killing Jokes," even the caped crusader thinks the guy's a million chuckles. Batman himself joins the Joker in laughing at the system. Since he's bonkers, he's as invulnerable to prosecution as...

As Lex Luthor. No prison fatigues for the new Lex. No longer is he the guest of Metropolis prison facilities. Instead, through Lexcorp, he was practically running the place. Superman couldn't lay a finger on the guy. Either people thought he was a perfectly straight businessman, even philanthropic; or else they knew what kind of guy he really was, but were too scared of him (or too much a part of his dealings) to do anything about it.

Sure, sure, supposedly Lex Luthor died in an airplane crash. How many people seriously believe that Luthor is really, truly dead? I say this not because I have any sort of inside information (I haven't consulted Mike Carlin on it); it's just healthy skepticism as a result of years of being involved in comics. I don't believe Lex is gone for good. Chances are, neither do you.

This is all, of course, just discussing mortal villains. There are also Gods, such as Darkseid, who is answerable only to other gods and some vague prediction that someday Orion's going to mess him up real bad; or the God-like Galactus, who is purportedly above good and above evil (and, with my luck, above my house right now).

Now--here's where we get to some real fun stuff.

You see, people are always saying that comics are far too removed from real life. And I will agree that we don't generally have guys running about in zippy costumes with dastardly names. But what started me thinking about the subject of this column was several recent examples in the news of how truly despicable individuals can profit from their misdeeds and even, on an international scale (just like Doc Doom) be totally invulnerable to retribution.

For example:

Starting on a national scale, the Supreme Court overruled unanimously New York State's Son-of-Sam Law (the name taken by David Berkowitz during his extended killing spree)--which stated that criminals cannot make money from books, movies or what-have-you that are based on their activities. Instead, all such monies are to be put in escrow and given to the victims of their crimes. Not anymore, though: The Supreme Court decided that it was contrary to the rights granted by the First Amendment.

Now I can grant the argument that New York's law is too broad. For example, it also covers people merely accused of crimes, and there is this bizarre notion about innocent until proven guilty. But the Shadow's often-repeated statement that "Crimes Does Not Pay," supported by the Son-of-Sam law, has now been undercut by the Supreme Court.

I'd like to put forward two arguments, neither of which would fly with the Supreme Court, but I don't care--I'm no lawyer, and this is no court of law.

First off, yes, an argument might be made that First Amendment rights are being abrogated by the state of New York (and the other states that have similar laws on the books). However, the act of becoming a criminal means that you have acted in a manner that is harmful to society and, in that act, have forfeited rights to certain things. Like liberty. Like the pursuit of happiness. Like, in some instances, life. To commit a crime means that you have done something wrong and are to suffer for it.

I do not see why it should be out of the question to limit the First Amendment rights of a criminal, exactly in the same manner that other rights of his are limited because of his crime.

The second aspect is that First Amendment rights end where the public safety is threatened. Or, as the old saying goes, you cannot falsely shout "Fire" in a crowded theater, thereby prompting a panic, and then claim that you were simply exercising your right to free speech.

It seems to me that, if criminals know that they can profiteer off a flashy enough crime--get their picture in People, become celebrities--it takes some of the edge off taking the chance of committing that crime. Considering what publishers, movie studios, and television programs are paying nowadays for anyone connected to any sort of high-profile criminal proceeding, such payoffs might be considered incentive for someone if they didn't mind the prospect of spending time in jail.

Now granted, civil suits can be brought by the victims of the various crimes against the perpetrators. They might have to turn over some or all of their blood money to the people who suffered at their hands. Then again, they might not. Terrific. Just what the overburdened judicial system needs right now: More litigation to accomplish what the New York law was already doing.

Long-time readers of this column know that I have stridently spoken in favor of the most liberal interpretation of the First Amendment. "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it," a quote attributed to Voltaire. I agree with the sentiments, but I'll add that I draw the line at defending it to the death when that death might be at the hands of the guy who's exercising his free speech in the first place.

Besides, no one's suggesting we stop criminals from publicizing their misdeeds; just from making money off it. Where in the constitution does it guarantee the right to make money? It's called Free Speech, after all. Not Paid Speech.

But if you want to talk about having it all--money, publicity, invulnerability--then you have to think about the Real World equivalent of super-villains: Namely, the Lebanese terrorists who, over the past several weeks, released a slew of hostages including six-year-veteran Terry Anderson.

I, of course, am pleased as punch that these people are free and have returned to their families. I hope they have all the luck in the world. They're certainly entitled.

However--

It angers me that they were released one at a time, for the purpose of heightening media attention, dragging things out, and allowing the captors to get off on their feeling of power.

It angers me that, to the best of my knowledge, absolutely no effort is being made to hold the terrorists accountable for their actions. The odds are slim that they will ever be punished for their actions.

It angers me that we ransomed them from a foreign government. What many news accounts don't seem to mention at all, or bury towards the end of the story, is that the hostages were released, with startling timing, several weeks after the United States released Iranian assets that Jimmy Carter--in one of the few aggressive steps he took to deal with the hostage issue that eventually overshadowed his presidency--froze back in 1979 as retaliation for the Americans that Iran decided to take prisoner.

In essence, $278 million was forked over to Iran--and lo and behold, out came the hostages. In other words, we paid a ransom and got the kidnap victims back. We sent a message loud and clear, and that message was: "Kidnapping works. Terrorism works. Do what you want, suffer no consequences, getting plenty of attention." Do you believe that, after receiving that message, terrorists are going to hesitate for one minute to repeat their acts of terrorism? To try and find new captives? Make new demands? Why shouldn't they? Just like for Doc Doom or Darkseid, it's a case of do whatever the hell you want.

Of course the government denies any cause-and-effect. Just coincidence. Uh huh. As startling a coincidence as when the Iranian hostages were released a decade ago, a mere 24 hours after Ronald Reagan was sworn in. This startling coincidence has prompted a great deal of speculation that a deal was cut between GOP hopeful Ronald Reagan and the Iranians--one in which George Bush supposedly helped set it up--the deal being that the hostages were to be kept under wraps, poisoning Carter's chances of re-election, until such time that Reagan was safely in office. A goodly number of people seem rather intrigued by the notion.

Comic Book World versus Real World. Similarities abound. Is Luthor dead? No way. Are a sitting president and ex-president part of a scheme that bartered human lives for an election? Quite possibly. How interesting that we have far more confidence in our fictional villains than our real-world leaders.

(Notice that Peter David, writer of stuff, did not bring up the notion of "Getting Away With It" in connection with recently concluded William Kennedy Smith rape trial. Why? Because CNN legal experts claimed that Smith's celebrity worked against him to some degree. The attention focussed on the alleged crime make them more anxious to prosecute than they would have been if he'd just been Joe Shmoe from Tallahassee. Prosecutors don't like rape cases; they've tough to win. And if you disagree with that assessment, don't bust my chops about it--go yell at CNN or your local prosecutor's office.)