Warning: Spoilers ahead!
Hal Jordan has never been my favorite Green Lantern.
Don’t get me wrong: I love the character, as evidenced by the Geoff Johns and Dennis O’Neil trades sitting on my bookshelf. But I never connected with him on the same level as some others who took up the mantle, your Kyle Rayners, Jessica Cruzes and, yes, John Stewarts of the world. He was never my guy.
I guess I always just felt a bit removed from Hal. In most of my favorite stories featuring the character, he largely felt like an emblem, the living embodiment of will, courage made manifest and sent to watch over the worlds of Sector 2814. His cockiness and charm made him fun to read, but they never let me get in close.
That is, until Kyle Chandler put on the ring.
While many were thrilled by this perfect marriage of actor and character, Chandler’s casting also gave some diehard fans pause. I think that’s fair. He is — I hope he doesn’t mind me saying — a bit old for the part as most comic readers would imagine it. Before the show released, it became clear that Aaron Pierre’s John Stewart (another incredible performance) was the one who was in it for the long haul, flying into theaters next summer with “Man of Tomorrow.” Many of Hal Jordan’s greatest adventures, if they happened at all, occurred before his “Lanterns” journey.
I knew Chandler would be a good fit for the part, but I still remember watching Hal’s scheme at the bar during the premiere episode, and a wave of excitement rippling through me as I realized what exactly he was planning with the jukebox. When the camera cut to Chandler’s s–t-eating grin as Rushville police officers pressed him against the wall, I knew with certainty that, despite whatever changes were in store, this guy was Hal Jordan. This feeling cemented itself later in the episode when Hal cleverly interrogated one of Antaan’s alien scouts — a scene nearly every comic book fanatic I know brought up to me the week of release to say they’re hooked.
In these scenes and numerous others, Chandler embodies everything fans love about DC’s first intergalactic lawman. He’s cocky, but the confidence is earned. He has a big mouth, but he’s willing to take a punch for it. He can be a pest, but damn it if he isn’t charming.
Chandler and the “Lanterns” writers — led by co-creators Chris Mundy, Damon Lindelof and Tom King — soon revealed that they weren’t interested in showing TV watchers the same old Hal. From beginning to end, bold choices and surprising swerves characterized the latest chapter of the DCU.
Suddenly, Hal Jordan wasn’t a character who recited the Green Lantern oath with his full chest, but one who rushed through the words like they were poison on his lips. Hal had become jaded, couldn’t bear to put on his costume or recharge his ring unless it was an absolute must. At the same time, when the prospect of being replaced came about, Hal clung to his title as if his life depended on it — as a seventh-episode origin change revealed, it maybe did.
And then of course, there’s the fact that the first episode concluded with Hal dead on some high school bleachers, staying that way through the end of the finale. To quote a villain from a different superhero universe, “No resurrections this time” — or, at least, this season.
Each of these changes, if done poorly, would be taken as sacrilege by some of the internet’s loudest comic book fans. They’re the kind of swings most shows can’t recover from. I was one of the lucky journalists who got to view the first seven episodes of “Lanterns” before the premiere aired, and with each passing minute, the same thought kept ringing through my head: I love this show, but the internet is going to hate it.
And sure, there has been a little bit of that, of people complaining that Atrocitus and Black Hand didn’t fly in with different-colored Lanterns to validate their theories. But for the most part, people have approached “Lanterns” the way any adaptation should be approached: on its terms rather than your own. Of course, the show isn’t bulletproof or immune to criticism. But I’ve been heartened by how few critiques I’ve seen that boil down to “This isn’t what I wanted.”
Because what people really wanted, it seems, was a good story. We can watch our favorite comics get big-budget adaptations all day long, but I will 10 times out of 10 prefer to see writers animated to carve their own path over an uninspired recreation of what I’ve seen before. I am OK with something being unfaithful to the “lore” as long as it’s faithful to the heart. After all, you can’t be a comic book fan without getting used to some retcons and resets. After a while, the canon starts to be less important than the narrative.
It’s not like “Lanterns” shows us none of the “classic” Hal Jordan fans have come to love. Nearly every scene with the Halogram feels ripped off the pages of “Green Lantern.” One can imagine seeing that era of Chandler’s character living out every iconic adventure from the comics.
Yet many of my favorite Hal Jordan moments come from the contrast between the Halogram and the Hal Jordan of 2016. I think of Hal clawing for the power ring during his Episode 5 fight with John, Chandler morphing his face into a Gollum-like obsession. I think of Hal interrogating Sinestro, confronting the fact that the Guardians seek to punish him despite sacrificing his second father figure. I think about the sadness, the exhaustion that Chandler manages to convey under Hal’s bluster and bravado.
Plenty of comics support this read on Hal. What if his fearlessness was actually a mask? What if the ring was actually a curse? What if his womanizing was a means of keeping others from getting too close? These ideas exist in the text, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen them explored so well.
“Lanterns” may be Earthbound and alien-light, but it’s a Green Lantern story through and through. Chandler and Pierre’s performances are undeniable.
In the end, Hal Jordan fought the same climactic battle he always does: a battle of will, of proving that he’s more than just a ring on a finger. But instead of conjuring up the biggest weapon or besting Sinestro, powerless, at a construction site, Hal exhibited willpower of a different form.
He had the will to live another day, despite all the darkness swimming in his head. He had the will to seek amends, righting his wrongs from when the ring was all he knew. He had the will to choose “I love you” as his dying words — twice — after his heart was shattered by two father figures.
It may not be a fight against Parallax or Black Hand, but it’s still a hell of a story.
I’ve seen many people say that “Lanterns” would function better as an Elseworlds narrative, something that exists outside the main DCU continuity. I understand the appeal. When a story takes as bold of swings as this one, it’s hard not to wonder about what could have been.
But the DCU is itself an Elseworlds, a universe iterating on roughly a century of DC comics and forging its own path. Franchises like this aren’t as bulletproof as they used to be, and with complicating factors like a looming studio merger, who knows how many years of gas the DCU has left in the tank? I would rather see strong, unique stories like “Lanterns” while we can than perfect facsimiles of what exists on the page.
I have read hundreds of Green Lantern comics in my time, and I am sure I’ll read hundreds more. So let me tell you: This show doesn’t recreate the best Green Lantern stories, but it sure as hell understands what makes them special.
When you’re a fan of comic books for long enough, you come to realize the value of an ending. We of course don’t want to see our heroes die off or be left behind, but it’s often far worse to see them dragged through years of static characterization and inert narratives. I don’t want to see every character I love trotted out until they’re 90. After a while, you come to appreciate good stories — however fleeting they may be — over a bigger sandbox.
Green Lantern is a particularly tough hero to approach in a cinematic universe due to the fact that the name doesn’t belong to any one character. John Stewart fans have just as much a right to want their character to be the DCU Green Lantern as Hal Jordan fans, as Kyle Rayner fans, as Jo Mullein fans. What characters get to be on screen, and for how long, is not an easy choice. But I, for one, am grateful for the eight glorious hours we got to spend with Hal, even if that’s all we see (and frankly, I’d be surprised if that were the case).
I’m not from the planet Krypton, and I can’t breathe in space, but I can relate to the loneliness of Superman sitting by himself on the moon. I can’t swing from webs or crawl on walls, but I can relate to Spider-Man feeling like the punchline of life’s great joke. I don’t have infinite willpower or a glowing green ring, but I can relate to Hal Jordan feeling like a curse lives inside him, fearing what would happen if he stopped moving long enough to sit in solitude.
I don’t need my superheroes to face depression for me to find them relatable. I don’t need every comic book project to be a grim exploration of self. But I will always appreciate when creators treat these characters as more than icons and action figures.
In “Lanterns,” I can relate to Hal Jordan. I don’t know that I ever really could before.
Through Kyle Chandler, we get to see Hal Jordan as both the man and the legend. Despite being Earth’s first Green Lantern, it’s one of the first times I’ve ever felt like he’s truly human. So, as much as I love Geoff Johns’ GL saga, I’m fine with not seeing Hal take on the Yellow Lantern Corps, fight Parallax or survive the Blackest Night.
If these eight hours of Hal are all we get, he’ll still go down as one of the all-time great superhero portrayals. And that’s enough.
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