Alien Adoptee: Brightburn (2019)
My dear readers, when I reflect back on my time as a wee lad, my first thoughts are of coveting the contents of the sweets jar and playing imagination games. But I would be remiss if I presented this period of my life in exclusively innocent terms, as there were some serious social hardships to overcome. Children can be terribly cruel and even the slightest deviation from the norm can turn one into a subject of scorn. My formal manner of dress and severely premature mustache made me an easy target for ridicule. Also, many of the children simply could not get past the fact that the shadow I cast seemed at odds with my actual proportions, and appeared as though it belonged to an adult of considerable stature. I insisted that I would grow into it eventually but my efforts at clarification only seemed to make the other children reluctant to engage in face-to-face derision. I suppose all of this is to say that I am quite familiar with how difficult a business it can be to fit in as a child.
Brandon Breyer (Jackson A. Dunn) knows a thing or two about struggling to fit in himself. He finds himself at that delicate age where a tempest of hormones can make fitting in a sorry business for any young chap. But in addition to the difficulties that accompany physical transformations and confusing feelings for the opposite sex, Brandon has a few additional obstacles to overcome. Most notably, Brandon is an alien who landed on the Breyer property some years ago. The Breyers had unsuccessfully tried for a biological child of their own and rather than bothering with the lengthly process of legal adoption, they decide there could be little harm in taking in an extraterrestrial infant and acting as though it is their own offspring. And so they tuck Brandon’s wayward craft safely away in their barn and do their best not to discuss the matter further.
Ten years later and the Breyers seem to have successfully vanquished the memory of Brandon’s strange origins from their daily lives. So much so, in fact, that it takes some time to revisit the subject even after he produces a notebook’s worth of violent fantasy illustrations and crushes a classmate’s hand with the very little effort. But Brandon’s strange past becomes impossible to ignore once he is discovered levitating above his former craft, chanting in the tongue of his alien homeland. Having been somewhat forcefully reacquainted with their son’s origins, the Bryers are left to wonder if he may have something to do with reports of a masked killer with superhuman abilities that seems to be targeting adults tangentially associated with young Brandon.
While I try to keep to my areas of expertise, I must confess I have maintained a studious interest in graphic fiction for some time. I am quite sure no one needs yet another person to comment on the specific superhero chosen for this particular "mashup" of genres but I would like to take a moment to state my breathless excitement over which character was selected for this treatment. This particularly iconic model of unearthly champion possesses superhuman strength, speed and vision, the power of flight and the ability to generate an enormous amount of heat with his eyes alone. By now, surely, even viewers who have not yet had the pleasure of seeing Brightburn must know who I am referencing -- it is none other than Atoman. During his two issue run by Spark Publications in 1946 he managed to make a considerable impression on both myself and countless other readers. We Atoman admirers have remained silent for the last decade, increasingly discouraged by the bewildering cavalcade of comic book heroes that have made it to the silver screen. I am delighted to say that Brightburn not only rectifies Atoman’s shameful lack of cinematic representation but also provides a clever horror twist that is bound to introduce this beloved character to an even broader audience. It is a most ingenious presentation and I can only hope it will inspire further iterations of this neglected narrative.
Brightburn runs 90 minutes and is rated R for horror violence, bloody images and language.