Snyder’s Justice League is an ungainly miscreation worth a mauling of its own. It’s trapped between extravagance in approach and austerity in mood. Combat sequences resemble ballet in spandex when they are really just bloodbaths in slo-mo. It’s these contradictions that define Snyder’s film grammar. A sesame seed thrown into the air gets the same reverent treatment as a superhero saving a woman. Snyder’s idea of edginess is to let his supes drop the F-bomb a few times. To match his preferred dark tone, he even lets Superman trade his classic red-and-blue suit for a black one.
In the bipartisanship that is the superhero industrial complex, there’s the Marvel-lous, and the Marvel-less. The Snyder Cut sure ain’t the former. The film is still about assembling the Avengers Justice League, finding the Infinity Stones Mother Boxes, and battling the CGI villain. So, what’s out: that Whedon-styled levity, that one Russian family saved from the parademon attack, that CGI upper lip wax for…