No costumes, no double identity. He lives like a superhero, and he is a superhero. He doesn’t hide because he simply can’t. It’s useless. He only needs to be better than the others. But he is brutal. Again and again. The adamantium is a gift for some, while it may be a curse for Wolverine. Who knows.
You know that man who turns into a green monster when he gets angry. A murdering monster. No self-control. When it recedes, corpses are left around. And naked Bruce Banner. An awesome character. No conscious decisions at all. This is a pure curse.
Tony, Tony. Debauched and prodigal. An unpredictable arms dealer and billionaire who transforms at will into an iron beast. And this beast – surprise, surprise – protects the world. A similar story to the one of Batman, right? Only Batman is a knight of darkness, while Iron Man is a knight of footlights, let’s say.
The king of all the superheroes; number one, capo di tutti, right? I never enjoyed stories about Superman. Only in its last version I was impressed by several moments and just fell in love with him. They threw him on Earth, knowing others would make a fool of him. And still they did it.
The same story as Mr. Batman, at first sight, but an absolutely different reality. And I’m not referring to the fact that Peter Parker isn’t a rich man or that Bruce didn’t live with his auntie. Peter was handicapped. Handicapped with a gift he could have squandered or made useful.
Most of these superheroes are fundamentally determined by their two faces. Only each in his own way. Quite possibly it’s this identity dichotomy that makes them what they are. And Batman? During the day a rich man who has everything most people long for, including a body servant. And at night? A dark hero.