As I watched the first two episodes of the new Marvel show “VisionQuest”—about one of the less popular Avengers—I found myself asking why I keep coming back to these superhero shows. “VisionQuest” is entertaining enough, with good actors and eye-catching set designs, but I’m not sure that it has very much to say. Of course we don’t need our entertainment to also provide social commentary, but the best of these shows use their superhero premises to explore what are essentially still very human questions.
Compare “VisionQuest” to the DC superhero show “Lanterns,” which recently completed its first season on HBO. While it had plot holes and an uneven tone, “Lantern” had compelling things to say about racial dynamics, the legacy of childhood trauma and the nature of the creative process. The theme that resonated most strongly for me was its exploration of vocation, or how we come to know what we should do with our lives. It asks both how we should respond when the work we have been doing no longer fulfills us, and how we should adapt if the career path we have been brought up to believe is right for us turns out to be a bad fit.
At first blush, there is much about “Lanterns” that feels familiar. It features the classic setup of an older, jaded cop being paired with an enthusiastic but untested junior partner, who are tasked with investigating a relatively minor crime in a small town that turns out to be part of a vast criminal conspiracy.
The twist here is that the law enforcement officers are representatives of the Green Lantern Corps, interstellar peacekeepers who wield magic rings that give them god-like powers, and the crime that sets things in motion involves alien on alien murder. Kyle Chandler, in his best role since “Friday Night Lights,” plays Hal Jordan, who has been Earth’s Green Lantern for decades, and Aaron Pierre plays his trainee, John Stewart. Earth can only have one Green Lantern, though, so they both know that Stewart is being trained to take Jordan’s job.
The eight episodes of the show pivot between 2016—where Hal and John are looking into a possible alien incursion in a small town in Nebraska, and end up searching for a powerful, dangerous (and supposedly extinct) being called a Manhunter—and 2026, where John is investigating Hal’s murder in that same small town. In both timelines, Kelly Macdonald is fantastic as the small-town sheriff.
I watched “Lanterns” with my oldest son, Owen, who is a big reader of comics (I am not). It’s fitting we watched together, because this is very much a show about fathers (and surrogate fathers) and sons, and how the way we are raised affects who we grow up to become. I really enjoyed it, but Owen thought it was kind of a letdown, both as a superhero show and as a prestige mystery. “Lanterns” was touted as “‘True Detective,’ but with superheroes,” and, admittedly, that kind of framing doesn’t do the show any favors. The mysteries here are not as complex as the ones in most gritty, prestige dramas, and the ultimate revelations about the identity of the Manhunter in 2016, and who killed Hal in 2026, are not terribly surprising.
The superhero elements here aren’t groundbreaking, either. There is a big battle sequence in one episode, and we do get to see both Hal and John make some cool things with the ring. But Owen tells me that for people familiar with Green Lantern comics, the TV-show versions of these “constructs” were rather underwhelming.
While it might not have worked as either prestige mystery or pure popcorn superhero fare, “Lanterns” did land for me as a sustained meditation on the nature of vocation.
The Guardians, powerful extraterrestrials who run the Green Lantern Corps, tell Stewart that all he has to do in order to assume the role of Earth’s Lantern is put on Jordan’s ring and recite the Green Lantern Oath. The power and responsibility would then automatically pass to him. Stewart has been trained his entire life for this—his father had been offered the chance to become the original Lantern but had been afraid when a mysterious green light lifted him out of his bed in the middle of the night, and the one quality needed to be the Green Lantern is fearlessness. Stewart’s parents have raised him to be fearless (through some very questionable parenting tactics), so that when his chance to take on the role comes around he will be ready. Stewart, though, is unwilling to take the power away from Jordan, even though Jordan no longer seems to fully believe in his role.
The first time we hear Hal Jordan recite his oath, in Episode 2, he rushes through it, sounding disinterested—not unlike my kids ploughing through grace before dinner. The words themselves are dramatic, bordering on silly (this is, after all, a superhero show): “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might beware my power…Green Lantern’s light.” But Hal sounds like a man who has said these words a thousand times before, and no longer finds meaning in them; it is simply something he has to say as part of the ritual of recharging his ring.
This jaded version of Jordan foregrounds the issue of how we should respond when we no longer feel a sense of purpose in our vocation. It is easy to imagine a younger version of Hal who was enthusiastic about his role as Earth’s protector, who believed in the righteousness of his mission. (Since the show jumps around in time, we actually do get a few scenes of this more passionate and driven version of Hal.) But in the 2016 timeline, Hal clearly resents the Guardians and doubts the tenets of his oath, even as he is unwilling to relinquish his role. He can’t let go, in part, because he can’t seem to imagine doing anything else with his life.
In the 2016 arc, we watch John Stewart go through his own process of disillusionment with the idea and ideals of the Green Lanterns. He comes to doubt whether the thing he’s been training for his whole life is actually worth pursuing. In the 2026 timeline, we learn that he’s spent the intervening 10 years building a successful architecture firm that builds panic rooms and bunkers to protect the wealthy from the kinds of dangers ever-present in superhero worlds. His parents are disappointed that he didn’t follow through on his training, and he resents them for their attempts to shape and control his life.
I will not spoil any of the mysteries of the show, but since Aaron Pierre is in the cast of the new Superman movie as Green Lantern, it is not too much of a revelation to say that in the end he does embrace the role. Significantly, he crafts his own oath: “In brightest day, in darkest night, I embrace my fear, I’ll do what’s right. I choose this ring, I choose this fight… in service to this lantern’s light.” Unlike the traditional oath, which focused heavily on spotting and overpowering evil, Stewart’s version makes room for the very human emotion of fear, and foregrounds his own agency.
In both John Stewart’s journey of vocational discernment and in some other elements of the show that stray firmly into spoiler territory, the “Lanterns” creators (Damon Lindelof, Chris Mundy and Tom King) are clearly interested in the question of nature versus nurture. Are we capable of resisting the programming of our genes and/or the way we have been raised?
This is a show filled with cosmic beings of seemingly limitless power. But it works because, at its heart, it is really a very human exploration of how we can come to know what to do with our lives.
