Life presents an infinite number of questions, but perhaps none more provocative and poignant than “What if?”

What if I didn’t run that red light? What if I had gone to that concert with Cait freshman year? “What if?” scenarios can plague us, paralyze us and dull us into a ball of crippling self-doubt, afraid to make any decision lest it be the wrong one. These questions, less painfully, extend to the realm of movies. A Google search of “Movies Never Made” comes up with innumerable lists of films forever in development limbo, including a book by Chris Gore with that very same title and David Hughes’ Tales From Development Hell.

One of the very best films of last year concerned perhaps the Holy Grail of cinematic near-misses: Frank Pavich’s documentary Jodorowsky’s Dune. This year, following successful Kickstarter and FanBacked campaigns, Jon Schnepp puts the spotlight on the insanity that almost was: Superman Lives, a film to be directed by Tim Burton, starring Nicolas Cage as Superman, Chris Rock as Jimmy Olsen, Christopher Walken as Brainiac, Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor (some things are destiny) and written by three separate writers including the inimitable Kevin Smith.

Most of the narratives about the films nowadays are about how awful the Superman costume looked and how silly Nicolas Cage would’ve been in the role. The Death of Superman Lives presents a more complete picture of what the movie would’ve been, and I’d be surprised if anyone, fanboy or not, wouldn’t walk away wanting to see this movie, at least from a pure fascination standpoint.

It would’ve been weird, unique and original, something that seems antithetical to the very concept of Superman at this point. In fact, Superman Lives was such a different take on the iconic character that it wasn’t really a Superman movie, and considering the two reboots that followed, that might’ve been a good thing.

What the casual movie fan knows about the project comes from An Evening With Kevin Smith, where the writer-director talks about his unfathomable experiences working on the project and dealing with the larger than life and insane producer Jon Peters and his mind-boggling mandate to Smith to write a movie about Superman that features no flying, no suit and…a bunch of spiders.

For the first few segments, I was worried that Schnepp’s documentary would be rehashing the same story we’ve all heard before. And for too long, it does. But you can forgive the director because Kevin Smith is a natural storyteller, someone you’re happy telling the same story multiple times (insert Clerks 3 joke here). But he goes further and in more detail, and he admits that his experience on Superman Lives was a turning point in his career, where he learned that he was better at talking about writing Superman than writing Superman. Smith is oftentimes painfully self-aware of his limitations, and I think his fans (like yours truly) wish he weren’t, and certainly have a bevy of “What-If’s?” to direct his way.

Indisputably, Smith is a great jumping-off point into the expanded and crazy world that features interviews with Jon Peters himself, Tim Burton, and a slew of the artists and producers formerly attached to the project.

I was struck by how miserable Burton still is about the experience, referencing the need for cyanide pills when discussing the subject, and that on his death bed, he’ll still be talking about this movie that almost was. In many ways, it’s fair to wonder what this movie’s failure did to Burton’s career. He’s certainly had successes after (Sweeney Todd and Big Fish), but he’s almost become a parody of himself at this point.

While Cage declined to interview for the film, his presence is all over the doc, given a treasure trove of archival footage that might change your preconceived notion of the actor as Kal-El. We learn that the infamous shiny, rainbow light-up suit wasn’t the suit, and he damn if he doesn’t pull off the main one designed by Colleen Atwood.

After the film, Kevin Smith noted that when approached, he responded: “I’m going to be the star of this motherfucker.” But he rightfully admits, that honor goes to the larger than life Peters, who is gleefully, “exactly as I described him.” Peters, the man who (still) holds the film rights to Superman, is a self-pronounced man from the streets who blusters about having been in 500 fights, known for putting members of his crews in choke-holds…for “morale.” He seems like a joke, a figment of Hollywood imagination (a hairdresser turned Mr. Barbra Streisand turned La-La Land royalty), but he’s all too real, enthralling, and unintentionally hilarious.

He’s also not completely stupid. What he had in mind for Superman Lives is the kind of world-building that Kevin Feige is lauded for today. Smith’s script featured Deadshot, a reference to Hawkman and a Batman cameo during Superman’s funeral (it was an adaptation of The Death of Superman, after all). Brainiac became a green-headed Grim Reaper with spider legs, piloting a Skull ship. It’s certainly not Brainiac, but God help me, he looks cool. Of course, the notion of Luthiac, a two-headed mind-meld of Lex Luthor and Brainiac probably couldn’t have been anything but awful, but who doesn’t want to see Kevin Spacey and Christopher Walken (or Howard Stern or Jim Carrey, two others wanted for the part) bicker on the same body?

What struck me the most was the wonderful, jaw-dropping concert art, full of awesome Moebius and H.R. Giger-like monsters [the above isn’t one of the best ones; the good shit is in the documentary]. Apparently that’s a death knell for all movies not named Alien, considering Jodorowsky’s Dune suffered the same fate (and they actually had Moebius and H.R. Giger). The film would’ve been an ode to practical FX, with Doomsday very much a kaiju influenced terror, nearly twenty years before Guillermo del Toro made the Japanese concept a par the national lexicon with Pacific Rim.

The documentary bounces around writers, giving equal thrift to Wesley Strick (given Jon Peters’ obsession with spiders, his Arachnophobia experience likely helped him land the gig) and Dan Gilroy (Nightcrawler, Bourne Legacy). When a guy as smart and talented as Dan Gilroy is gushing about Burton’s take on Superman, you can’t help but stop and wonder: Huh?

The film failed for a lot of reasons, but the biggest, as always, was likely financial: Warner Bros. was flailing. Following the disaster that was Batman and Robin and a slew of other big budget blockbuster flops (The Postman, Soldier and The Avengers, to name a few), WB pulled the plug on the massively budgeted Superman Lives. As Burton says, Joel Schumaker not only destroyed his Bat-franchise, but his chance at creating another. The hilarious irony is that the money from Superman Lives went directly into…Wild Wild West, one of the biggest bombs ever.

The movie, like my review, ran long, but it was chock full of details, and a myriad of creative animated flourishes and quirky low-budget recreation scenes. I think all that matters for a movie like this, is that afterwards, I really really wanted this movie to exist. Superman Lives is not only a tremendous answer to a gripping “What if?,” but it presents a sprawling, spider-webbing slew of additional What-If’s about the careers of Tim Burton, Nicolas Cage and Kevin Smith, a metaphor Jon Peters would surely approve of.

Afterwards, writer-director Jon Schnepp, joined by Kevin Smith and a slew of crewmates, came to the stage for an enlivened, talkative and endlessly entertaining Q&A. It also presented potentially a more captivating “What If?” than the movie itself, or at least, one that the movie only scratched the surface of. One which I’ll get back to after these regularly scheduled bullet points:

• Apparently Robert Rodriguez was attached to Superman Lives, and talked about the movie with Kevin Smith. He also talked the director off the ledge while directing Dogma.
• Nobody was ever attached to Lois Lane (and the movie was 3-4 weeks from production!), but Peters wanted Sandra Bullock. Julianne Moore was also mentioned.
• Kevin Smith’s script, which is online, isn’t good, Smith admits. He describes it as self-referential fan-fiction, featuring Kryptonians named Dan-Te and Rand-El (which should sound familiar to Clerks fans). He was a slacker: the idea of the job was better than actually having it. He half-assed his script.
• Schnepp managed to get Jon Peters a MONTH before this premiere, which is crazy from a filmmaking perspective and a testament to the editing team. And it was surely necessary, because Peters’ presence is what ties it all together.
• Schnepp and his fiancé were broke when they finally got Burton to agree to meet. They had to get to England, and to do so, he had to sell his comics collection. This made Smith beam proudly, as he had to do the same. At least he had a chick to fuck through it all, Smith joked.
• The documentary was “just the tip of the iceberg” when it came to the footage and art from Superman Lives all found in Burton’s lair, which sounds like it needs to be a documentary all on its own.
• Chris Rock was too busy to appear, but he wanted to.
• When are we getting Kevin Smith’s superhero movie? Smith seems too aware of his limitations, and says that he “can’t do that,” that it’s “not in his skill set” and that he’s “not that interested.” But Yoga Hosers, his next movie,is “technically a comic book movie,” the closest we’re likely to get. Smith describes the film, which stars his daughter and Johnny Depp’s daughter, as Clueless meets Gremlins, with a Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark influence. Smith plays one of the villains in prosthetics.
• Mallrats 2: 16 of the 18 returning cast members have signed on for the sequel. One of them is on the cusp of signing. The other is Ben Affleck, which might be more difficult given his Bat-schedule, but he wrote a very do-able part for him.
• When Schnepp said that Rob Liefeld was apparently approached to make a graphic novel of Superman Lives., a collective groan emanated throughout the Egyptian Theatre.  Schnepp liked the idea of an animated trilogy, with a movie version of each script. *nods* THAT, please.
• Schnepp’s next project is a horror-musical-comedy project with a Bollywood flavor and Rocky Horror Picture Show in its DNA. As Smith said, “I’m hard.”
• Smith loved the film, calling feisty, fun and foul-mouthed Schnepp his “dream son,” that he went out and made his movie by sheer force of will, much like he did with Clerks. He urged everyone to follow their dreams, marveling and geeking out at how Schnepp managed to talk with Tim Burton. We were witnessing a poignant parallel of the indie filmmaker journey, and how it’s changed over the past 25 years. But even with the benefit of Kickstarter, it’s clear that Schnepp had to scratch and claw to make this film happen.

But now, back to my mind being blown:

While working on Superman Lives, Kevin Smith met with president of Warner Bros. production Lorenzo di Bonaventura. During their dinner, Lorenzo offered Kevin Smith the keys to the DC Universe, the ability to play with the studios’ entire properties, twenty years before Marvel launched the MCU with Iron Man. Smith, painfully young, thought that it would steal his indie soul, and points out that he was “not Joss Whedon.” After this story I almost slammed my head into the back of the movie seat in front of me.

Perhaps Kevin Smith wasn’t the right man to shepherd the DC Universe to film (he certainly doesn’t think he would’ve been), but like with Superman Lives, it would’ve been fascinating to see. Again, what if? What if Superman Lives had been made? As Schnepp explained, in 1997, Marvel was bankrupt. DC was considering buying their company, while on the cusp of making a team-up movie that included Superman, Batman and droves of other DC characters. Might Superman Lives have ushered in the DCCU a decade before Marvel discovered the secret to success? Or would it have been a Batman and Robin style disaster that might’ve pushed it all back even longer, or prevented Iron Man from ever happening? Would we be talking about DC and WB in the same way we talk about Marvel now and in their stead? It’s crazy and tantalizing to think about, and one of the many reasons why The Death of Superman Lives: What Happened? is such a worthwhile story.

As Carrey’s Riddler said in Batman Forever, “too many questions.”

The Death of Superman Lives: What Happened? arrives digitally July 9th. The Blu-Ray will feature a boatload of features, including more on Superman’s resuscitation suit, nerdy Kevin Smith chats, and an extra three to four hours of various footage and featurettes. Jon Schepp is self-releasing the project, and it’s worthy of your support.

I might be one of the few schmucks of my generation that, until recently, had only seen the original WICKER MAN that starred Christopher Lee and Ingrid Pitt, and not the vacuous, craptastic, incredible, life-changing Nicolas Cage remake from 2006.

Now I can proudly claim that my eyes have beheld both masterpieces, and somehow lived to tell the tale, thanks to a hilarious Doug Benson Movie Interruption at The Cinefamily in Fairfax. Tonight he’s doing GODZILLA, if you’re interested.

It’s nigh impossible to form a coherent thought about THE WICKER MAN, but then again, there isn’t a coherent moment in the entire film that ranks in the Hall of Fame of awful, alongside THE ROOM and Lou Diamond Phillips’ filmography.

Nicolas Cage (I’m not even going to bother with his “character” name) is an LA cop who gets a letter from his ex-girlfriend, telling him about her daughter’s disappearance from Summerisle island, a fake cult island in the Pacific Northwest. If it existed, I would totally have visited during my upbringing, and never would’ve been the same, probably because there are no boys on the island. Also, before this letter, Nic watches as a semi just obliterates a car with a mother and her indignant pissant daughter inside, a nonsensical “plot point” we’ll be reminded about several times throughout the movie (I smell a drinking game rule). Here’s that immortal scene:

Yup.

What’s even crazier about this movie is how generally close it hews to the original movie, which is rightfully hailed as a horror classic, thanks to its score, awesome twist ending, the aforementioned Christopher Lee as the eerie, cross-dressing Lord Summerisle, and Bond girl Britt Ekland humping walls naked. You can read my review of it here. Yet, this WICKER MAN is a classic awful movie, that adds some baby drama (Cage is the father of the missing girl!) and the aforementioned car crash, subtracts any and all poignant imagery/metaphor (religion, sex), and replaces it with bees, women punching and gibberish.

There’s also Ellen Burstyn, DEADWOOD’s Molly Parker, AMERICAN HORROR STORY’s Frances Conroy and 90’s “ingenue” Leelee Sobieski, all in the worst movies they’ve ever been apart of, a claim that Nicolas Cage would scoff at, seeing as he likely has 23 other films that jockey with WICKER MAN for that title. Until the Cageback takes America by storm (and it will, unless the Wesley Wevival intercedes), we can continue to revel in the wonder, majesty, mystery that is Nicolas Cage’s career.

THE RULES

1. The “Not the Bees!” scene in WICKER MAN has rightfully become an internet phenomenon, and it should be rewarded with a drink any time there’s a scene involving bees. The infamous scene is actually from the Director’s Cut on the DVD or something, but revel in its insanity here:

That is so fucked up. Also, it spoils the movie, but whatever. WICKER MAN is un-spoilable.

2. Every time Nicolas Cage opens a drawer, drink. When you were about 4 years old and pretending to be a detective, opening drawers is how you’d look for clues. This is how Nicolas Cage looks for clues in this movie. There’s one particular scene that might kill you.

3. A subset of the above rule is that whenever Nicolas Cage ignores absolutely, mind-numbingly obvious clues, you must drink.

4. Any time that Nicolas Cage utters gibberish, take a sip.

5. Drink when Nicolas Cage puts on a bear costume.

6. Drink for every semi-steamrolling flashback.

7. Waterfall for however long Nicolas Cage rides a bike.

8. Take a lusty pull from your beverage any time that Nicolas Cage hits a woman. Finish your beer for this moment that combines rules #5 and #7:

Over the last decade, Nicolas Cage has devolved into a punchline, almost of his own devising, picking and choosing movies as if he was asking for ridicule, as if he can’t live without mediocrity. His resume is inexplicable; his career is an enigma, the idea of which was mined brilliantly in NBC’s COMMUNITY.

Nicolas Cage won an Oscar for LEAVING LAS VEGAS in 1996 and was nominated for another in 2003 for ADAPTATION (where he’s brilliant). Aside from KICK-ASS (and BAD LIEUTENANT?), I don’t know if he’s been in a good movie since 2003 (NATIONAL TREASURE is good?), and his role in that was as over the top as it gets. Cage has always had talent, or something, that’s undeniable, or else he wouldn’t continue to make a million movies, and we wouldn’t be so fascinated by his decline, his parade into B or C-movie land, or whatever you want to label the BANGKOK DANGEROUS years. Is he a higher paid and slightly less insane Gary Busey? A more famous Eric Roberts? A less ubiquitous Danny Trejo? Or is he something else entirely…?

Recently, we’ve all been swept into the amazing story of Matthew McConaughey, who transformed himself from shirtless Texas surfer dude (who was in an actual movie called SURFER, DUDE as recently as 2008) to a challenger for best actor on the planet (non-Daniel Day Lewis division) in the span of 3-4 years thanks to TRUE DETECTIVE, DALLAS BUYERS CLUB, MUD and THE WOLF OF WALL STREET. It’s been bewitching to behold (and not in a SEASON OF THE WITCH or THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE kind of way), and shows how quickly American audiences can turn, and get wrapped into a redemption or comeback story.

Dare I say it, but JOE definitely has a whiff of a McConaissance, or a Cageback, as JOE is one of the best and most brutal and real movies I’ve seen in a while. Nicolas Cage is legitimately a convincing badass, his screen presence isn’t a joke, and thankfully it never sinks in that Joe’s full name is Joe Ransom. A lot of the credit goes to Cage, but all of the other ingredients gathered together by David Gordon Green are what make everything else so damn authentic.

If you had told me that David Gordon Green, a director known for the PINEAPPLE EXPRESS and EASTBOUND & DOWN (let’s not talk about YOUR HIGHNESS), was the key to unlocking Nicolas Cage’s spirit of vengeance (adapting a book by Larry Brown), I don’t know if I’d have believed you.

But JOE is for real, folks.

Nicolas Cage is Joe, a beefy, tattooed ex-con trying to make good in one of the many towns in Texas you want to drive straight through (and certainly don’t drive angry in). It’s clear he’s a respected man about town, thanks to his hard work and turnaround, and how he’s given many people work. It’s not exactly legal, as Joe and his men poison trees in the forest, enabling lumber companies to chop them down without a fight. Joe is one of those “good men” that really only has the potential to be one, or is a good man only in comparison to all the $#*! he wades through, or is a good man in between his weekly dust ups with assaulting a police officer (though they, of course, have it coming). It’s obvious his temper, and nose for trouble is inextricable. Joe can try to change as much as he wants…but his anger will never go away.

But Joe beats a malicious, abusive drunk for a role model, which is what Gary Jones has to live with. Gary and his family are new to the hovel, drifting from town to town once his father permanently burns their bridges in each one. Wade, the father, is a stain on humanity, a representation of the absolute worst of alcoholism. He beats his family mercilessly (his wife and Gary’s Mom is a husk, and Gary’s sister is mute and likely permanently mentally damaged), and wastes any money they earn on booze.

Tye Sheridan (MUD, THE TREE OF LIFE), who plays the brave, tough and vulnerable 15 year old Gary, is brilliant. I’m not sure where Tye summons the courage and the ability to stand up to all the crap around him (or maybe I don’t want to know), but you want Tye/Gary to be happy so bad, that when he smiles his glorious smile (a rare treat), you feel like a doting parent. Sheridan was fantastic as the lead in MUD, and he’s even better here. I’ll be shocked if Tye Sheridan isn’t Academy Award material down the line.

Gary discovers Joe and his men poisoning trees in the woods, and asks for work. Joe immediately takes him under his wing, and also invites his Dad into the fold. Bad idea, as Wade is beyond the point where he can withstand a day of honest work, let alone want to. Joe tells Gary and his father not to come back, and Gary gets a beating for it. It appears that his father has ruined another chance once again, but Gary refuses to give up, hounding Joe for work, on his own. You want the work to be enough…for Wade to lay down in a ditch somewhere, but he and some of the other contemptible vagrants in town, are heading for fateful conflict with Joe, Gary caught in the middle.

JOE works so well because of its casting, and the suffocating seedy, gritty atmosphere soaked in every frame. JOE shows us the evils of alcoholism, law enforcement, and the perpetual cycle of violence and suffering in lower class America.

I have no idea where David Gordon Green found his actors, but they’re a revelation. Wade (aka G-Daawg) is played by the beyond grizzly Gary Poulter, as a vile character with no redeeming qualities. And Gary Poulter is terrifying; his lust for liquor and the lengths he’ll go to get another fix, is unsettling, making you squirm whenever he’s in the same scene with Gary. That happens a lot.

Willie-Russell (Ronnie Gene Blevins), as a scarred, vengeful pedophile, is no less disturbing. The fiercely loyal and hard-working Junior (Brian Mays), who looks after Joe’s crew as his second in command, doesn’t even feel like a character. He’s just real, and I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in this movie save Cage and Sheridan weren’t “actors” at all. It’s as if David Gordon Green showed up to a small town in Texas, and filmed everyone that was languishing about around Cage and Sheridan. This isn’t far off: the cast is made up of indie actors and non-actors cast off the streets of Austin.

Aside from a “they’re friends now” montage between Joe and Gary, when Joe gets Gary drunk and teaches him how to drive his truck (smart), and Connie (Adriene Mishler), who’s the lone bright spot in this town of suck (and out of place for it), everything feels pitch perfect. We know how this movie is going to end, that Joe is going to be unable to stay on good terms with Johnny Law in an effort to help Gary, but it’s no less riveting for it.

JOE is uncomfortable, but a fascinating watch. Come to see Nicolas Cage acting again, stay for an unbelievable (more accurately, unnervingly believable) supporting cast and a snap shot of a world we’re lucky not to live in. Join the conversation before it happens, because I guarantee it’s about to.

JOE arrives in theaters this Friday, April 11th, as well as on iTunes and VOD.