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Zack Snyder's Justice League, out on HBO Max this Thursday, wastes no time setting itself apart from that other Justice League, the one released into theaters in 2017. Where the earlier cut opened with Superman (Henry Cavill) in happier times, charming a couple of camera-wielding kids with his bright CG-enhanced smile, the new one opens with a scream of anguish so pained and powerful that it reverberates throughout the cosmos.
The message it's sending to us is clear: This is not that "lighter" take on Justice League Warner Bros. once tried to deliver by way of Joss Whedon. This is Snyder's darker, grittier vision, through and through.
To be sure, ZSJL isn't a totally different film. It's still recognizable as a different version of the same basic story: Batman (Ben Affleck) and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) recruit Cyborg (Ray Fisher), Aquaman (Jason Momoa), and the Flash (Ezra Miller) in their battle against Steppenwolf's (Ciarán Hinds) MacGuffin-filled plot for world domination. Much of the footage from the previous cut is reused here, sometimes with minor tweaks and sometimes with more dramatic ones. Even a lot of the vaguely Whedonish wisecracks have made it intact; turns out the Flash's awkward sense of humor was a rare element that both filmmakers could comfortably get behind.
But Snyder's belated tinkering results in a movie that represents, on just about every level, a vast improvement over the previous edit. It still won't be for everyone. ZSJL steers away from the sunnier, cutesier, ostensibly more relatable tone that the theatrical version had tried to infuse, and instead recommits to the more downbeat mood established by Snyder in his earlier DC efforts, Man of Steel and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. If you hated those unreservedly, it's hard to imagine ZSJL bringing you back around on the entire endeavor.
Those open to Snyder's take on the DC universe, however, will find much more to like here than they did four years ago. The filmmaker's knack for striking visuals shows in the action set pieces, which play crisper and cleaner this time around (if a bit too reliant on his signature slow-mo). His moodier sensibility makes for a heavier film, but also one whose grandiose emotions feel more earned. The fact that grief, rage, and loneliness are rarely far out of reach for our heroes only makes it all the more touching when they finally move toward healing — in contrast to the theatrical version, which seemed desperate to avoid any strong feeling at all.
With Zack Snyder's Justice League, it finally becomes possible to see Justice League for the grand epic it was meant to be.
There may, in fact, be too much to like here. At four hours, ZSJL runs literally twice as long as the theatrical cut did, and Snyder uses those two extra hours to cram in so much more plot and exposition and Easter eggs that it still feels like we're missing some pieces. It's enough of a challenge for to keep up with half a dozen lead characters; toss in beefed-up roles for supporting players like Silas Stone (Joe Morton) plus entirely new players like Iris West (Kiersey Clemons), and it can be dizzying, from moment to moment, to remember what happened an hour or two or three ago. And not all of the new stuff feels wholly necessary. For all the hype surrounding the addition of Jared Leto's Joker, for instance, the only purpose his cameo seems to serve is teasing a sequel we'll probably never see.
Still, those four hours feel far better spent than the two it took for the theatrical cut. With room to breathe, the characters and their relationships get to feel more fleshed out, and the motivations driving them better explored. Fisher's Cyborg is undeniably the biggest beneficiary of this expanded screen time, basically getting promoted from plot point to main character. But characters like Wonder Woman also get a boost from the film's willingness to sit and spend some time in her headspace, even if we don't learn much more information about her. (On the other hand, the extra scenes explaining Steppenwolf only underline that he's still a total dud.)
It's tough, right now, to regard ZSJL entirely outside the long shadows cast by its predecessors — not just the theatrical Justice League and all the drama and controversy surrounding that, but also Man of Steel and Batman v Superman and all the arguments that surrounded those. Trying to guess whether a "Snyder cut" would have played better in 2017 than the Snyder-Whedon mashup turned out to is a moot point, because even in an alternate timeline where Snyder had been able to stay on as director, ZSJL isn't the exact movie he would have turned in; in no universe would Warner Bros. have put a four-hour blockbuster into theaters. So if nothing else, ZSJL serves as a curious experiment — a real-time demonstration of how big a difference even seemingly small changes, like the pacing of a conversation scene, can make.
But I'd go a bit farther than that. With ZSJL, it finally becomes possible to see Justice League for the grand epic it was meant to be. For all its imperfections and overindulgences, it's also a movie that aims to imagine entire worlds, and get tangled up in the messiness of the lives within them. It charges ahead with purpose and perspective, looking for meaning in our universe by seeking out wonder in its own. It starts from the depths of darkness we saw in BvS, and tries to move slowly but surely toward the light. In short, it's a movie that cares enough to swing big, even if that means it misses sometimes. These beloved heroes deserve no less.
Zack Snyder's Justice League premieres Thursday on HBO Max.