Disability, Superpowers, and “Passing” in X-Men

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On my internal scale of superhero movies, 2014’s X-Men: Days of Future Past is ranked very, very highly. At some point I’ll do a full-scale review of the film, but in terms of superhero silver screen quality, it’s only outranked by the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy and The Avengers, with possibly Captain America: The Winter Soldier edging in there, too. XM: DOFP worked because it allowed for the perfect balance of hardcore geekery (a time travel plot with tons of obscure characters based on an iconic comic storyline!), merging plotlines (past and future timelines), and strong acting. It also had a clear, basic plotline (bad future can only be solved by changing the past) that was ripe for character conflict and complexity without too much confusion.

There were, however, some points of contention in the otherwise 8 out of 10 film. Particularly, I’m referring to the depiction of disability with McAvoy’s (brilliantly-acted) Charles Xavier, as well as some fascinating parallels between mutation and real-life disability. In spite of my analysis, I’m still not sure if it’s a positive or negative portrayal of how disability can affect a person, but I’ll lay it all out here and let you make your own opinion.

For those of you that don’t know (and if you don’t, then why are you here? Go watch the movie!), Hank McCoy has developed a serum that allows Xavier to shut off his powers, and it also affects his legs; namely, the serum lets him use his legs and not suffer the thoughts of others. Xavier’s personal troubles have become so intense and inescapable that he has turned to drugs and alcohol to alleviate them, and that barely works because when Wolverine goes to see him, he’s a rock-bottom wreck who spends the rest of the film trying to find a reason to live again.

This is problematic because it implies that the only way to live with disability—in his case, paraplegia—is to not have it, rather than understanding your new identity and being at peace with yourself. The primary conflict in the film is this:

  1. Xavier can be disabled (paraplegic) and have the superpower of telepathy, which is both an ability (super-power) and a disability (mental pain and distraction).
  2. Xavier can be abled (by using the serum) and lose his telepathy, which allows him to pass as “normal” in two ways but takes away his super-abilities.

The film eventually sees Xavier come to “terms” with his mutation and his body, but there’s also an element of narrative necessity there: the X-Men universe needs Charles Xavier to be telepathic, which means he’s “relegated” to losing the use of his legs. He’s never treated as lesser for it, but there’s definitely an element of resignation to it, especially because in 2011’s First Class we saw a version of Charles who had control of both his body and his mind. The fact that Xavier chooses have a body and mind that are societally abnormal does, in a way, say something good about the film—it’s an affirmation of identities that we typically shun. But the mere fact that he’s offered a choice (put aside the narrative necessity for now) also paints a veneer of privilege onto Xavier because no one in the real world is offered such a decision about their bodies.

There’s also a second dimension of disability in DOFP in the form of mutations themselves. Xavier’s mind reading can often be borderline torturous—he constantly hears voices and sometimes can’t shut them off, even telling Hank McCoy towards the middle of the film, “I can hear them […] Can you make it stop?” In this regard, telepathy is a rough parallel to mental illness, especially because, at least on the outside, Xavier passes as human. McCoy’s mutation, however, is much more…beastly (I’m so sorry). He originally made the power-muting serum for himself so he wouldn’t have to be blue and furry all the time; essentially, he made it so he could pass. And generally, it works. Putting aside the budgetary reasons for why having poor Nicholas Hoult in full makeup all the time was impractical, Beast spends the majority of the films looking like Hank McCoy because he doesn’t want to be “physically” “disabled.”

I suppose that the overall question behind this brief and deep analysis is, can we fault them for this? And can we fault the movie itself for this? “Mutant and proud” indeed, but honestly, I still don’t know.

And don’t even get me started on the tangle that is Mystique, feminine body image, beauty, and physical disability…

mutant and proud

 

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