X-Men: The Last Stand - The Virtue of Separatism

This review was published originally on cinekklesia on October 20, 2006.

I think that I may have found the secret to enjoying comic-book movies. After having my expectations raised (and then significantly lowered) with Batman Begins, I later began watching Brett Ratner's X-Men: The Last Stand (2006)— a.k.a., X3—with very low presuppositions. It was going to be a bad film, I thought, even by the standards of Hollywood's comic-book adaptations, so I was just going to accept my fate, ride the wave, and see where I landed at the end.

What I actually encountered was a surprisingly fun entertainment experience. The third installment in the cinematic franchise, X3 is by no means a highbrow work of art, nor does it challenge any cinematic conventions. It is largely a revisiting of the characters who continue to learn about their mutations (and how to live with them), struggle for social respect and political rights, and fight amongst themselves over how best to interact with the "normal," non-mutant population. Yet, if one goes into the movie with very low expectations, then one leaves feeling rather uplifted: I had to admit that the movie was pretty good — for what it was.

Of course, the X-Men franchise's primary theme is difference, and in-between the fights and general mayhem that one would expect from a comic-book movie, Ratner and his screenwriting colleagues (Simon Kinberg and Zak Penn) actually construct some nifty thematic scenarios. In X3, the big controversy surrounds the development of a surprisingly fast-acting "cure" for mutation, and the mutants in question must decide whether to take the drug and become "normal" or eschew it altogether in the name of Mutant Pride. Of course, since the antidote comes with government backing, one must decide whether it truly is a goodwill gesture by well-meaning scientists or simply a plot to eradicate mutation—and thus, difference—from the human population.

Underlying these specific controversies is the intramutant fighting between assimilationist Professor Charles Xavier, played by Patrick Stewart, and the radical separatist Eric Lensherr—a.k.a., Magneto—played by Ian McKellen. What is most interesting about these men—besides the former's ability to tap into others' minds and the latter's penchant for throwing around metal objects with the flick of a wrist—is how closely their attitudes and positions align with standard moderate/radical divides throughout history. Xavier believes that the respect and rights that mutants want from the mainstream public will come if they can demonstrate that they are no threat, that their powers can be controlled and even put to good use. Magneto, on the other hand, sees no hope for any rapprochement between mutants and non-mutants, advocating instead a radical, uncompromising, and militant separatism that is inspired by the greatness of unleashed mutant power.

So, which is the better path? The X-Men franchise seems to suggest that Xavier has it right. His patient, pedagogical approach (he runs a boarding school for mutant youth) seems nicer, more genteel, more sophisticated. Who wants to deal with Magneto's angry struggle for power when one can sit at the feet of the wise professor and learn some nice lessons about ethics and playing nicely?

Yet, the franchise's implicit support of Xavier's path does not necessarily make it right. Perhaps the professor is merely a dupe, too trusting of the fickle non-mutants who easily could stab him in the back. Moreover, even if peaceful assimilation is possible, should that have any bearing on how one interacts with humans? Perhaps there is something truly special about mutants; perhaps their very difference is an indication of a greatness that should be not hampered by lowly, uninteresting "normals." For the most part, after all, the characters' mutations are not a disability, but rather, a high-level supplement to the standard repertoire of human abilities.

Despite its implicit approval of Xavier's philosophy and methods, the X-Men franchise simply provides no substantive backing for that position. More meaningful judgment must come from outside the assimilation/separation dichotomy, since neither position is intrinsically valuable — i.e., are there arguments outside of the dichotomy that can shed light on which course of action is morally appropriate? Is Magneto correct in supposing that Mutant Pride is its own end, to be guarded at all costs? Or, does Xavier have it right in arguing that mutant identity does not trump all other ends, that peaceful co-existence with non-mutants has intrinsic value (or at least facilitates the pursuit of other valuable goals — goals beyond Mutant Pride).

This is one of the most fundamental questions that any individual or group can face at any time in history. Of course, we first must ask whether we are even aware of the question: do we consciously contemplate assimilation/separation, or is our position unconsciously decided for us, based on our particular sociological identifiers (race, class, etc.)? Secondly, if we are aware of the question, then do we make any intentional choices about whether to assimilate or separate? Do we do a little bit of both? How do we choose? Is it a question of morality or simple convenience?

Many visitors to this site are Christian and perhaps have thought extensively about this topic. The Bible is full of dichotomous language regarding God's ways versus those of the world, and separatism has been a course of action pursued by various believers throughout the centuries. Yet, separatism is a hard road to follow, and many American Christians seem to assimilate in one of two ways: either we more-or-less cohere with the general culture, leaving no distinguishable mark of difference, or we "separate" from the world but establish subcultures so large and comprehensive that they become new mainstreams, new status quos. In the context of the 21st-Century United States, separatism may require eschewing multiple mainstream cultures (as paradoxical as that sounds), including religious ones, in order to find the essential faith.

No, I am not suggesting that Magneto's violent path is the appropriate one. However, we perhaps can learn from his steadfast skepticism of the larger world and what it claims to offer.