3.30 am so, of course, I was just reading this look back at SUPERMAN (1978) by Roger Ebert.

The film gave me what was probably my first real heartache over a fictional character because of what happens to Lois.

She dies.

Dies horribly in fact. Crushed, buried alive… it’s a fucking traumatic death sequence.

Supes is then forced to do the equivalent of a video game restart from a slightly earlier point at the end level. And that’s the part of the movie that never sat right with me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the movie. Queuing around the block to get a ticket is one of my favourite memories and Christopher Reeve was my hero until Harrison Ford showed up with a bull whip. Gene Hackman… man. But it has never left me that Lois was abandoned to die in that way.

Just knowing that for a moment, even though the events were ultimately undone, that a character I cared about could die like that shook my faith in the safety of my cinema seat. The hero was fallible, the characters were mortal, the director was unflinching and the writer was a grade A bastard.

Life lessons.

I love the scene pictured above. I love Margot Kidder asking this idiot about her underwear and I forgive everyone involved for ensuring all my future dates would be set against a bar that was gonna take some reaching. And I can’t look at the wonder in Lois’ eyes without thinking about the horror that replaced it when her mouth was filling up with earth.

I think I need a Scotch.