Monday, April 29, 2013
SXSW: What's the Matter With Batman?
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
BATMAN’S MENTAL HEALTH, PART 2
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Batman’s Mental Health, Part 1

- Dissociative Identity Disorder
- Depression
- Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
- Posttraumatic Stress Disorder
- Antisocial Personality Disorder
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Captain America
Perhaps you, like me, enjoyed the two Christopher Nolan Batman films out thus far. One of the reasons that I liked the films was for their sense of psychological realism: I got a vivid sense of what it might be like to live in Batman's world (or have him live in mine). Moreover,Batman Begins provided a very psychologically rich and compelling version of Batman's origin story. It got to the heart of the question of why Bruce Wayne would become the Batman. The portrayal felt psychologically accurate. (As I psychologist, I feel that I can say that authoritatively.)
Although it took me a few weeks to get around to seeing Captain America (something I did this weekend), I was looking forward to seeing it. The movie addresses a part of Cap's history that-to my knowledge-hasn't been explored in comic books. Specifically, it addressed the details of his life from before he takes the serum to when he becomes the Captain America with which-or should I say "with whom"--we are familiar.
As an origin story, then, it must make a compelling case for why the physically slight and asthmatic Steve Rogers volunteers for a radical experimental procedure (and the risk of death) in the hope of becoming a super soldier. In my opinion, the film fails in this regard. Let me explain why.
In the beginning of the film, we learn several things about Steve Rogers:
- He's short and slight
- He's been rejected by the U.S. Military five times on medical grounds (he was 4F)
- He's doesn't like bullies and he believes in standing up to them
- He wants to help the war effort
With these tidbits, the film allows us to connect the dots: Rogers is so desperate to join the military because he wants to stand up to the bullies of the Axis forces.
But here's the thing. During World War II, those who wanted to support the war effort could do so in ways other than being in the front lines. Take the father of a friend of mine as an example: He had polio at a very young age, and one of his legs never grew right, so as an adult that leg was a good six inches shorter than the other one. (Although doctors told him he'd never be able to walk, they underestimated him and he walked throughout his life.) He was rejected by the military when he tried to enlist to fight in WW II (he too, was 4F). But he signed up with the Merchant Marines, an auxiliary of the Navy in which civilians serve to help supply navy ships. This was only one possible way to serve the larger military effort. The film doesn't make clear why Rogers didn't join the Merchant Marines or help the war effort in some other way.
And there would have been other ways. The film also tells us that Rogers was a clever guy: When he's in basic training that he's the only one in years who's figured out how to get a stuck flag down from the flagpole without climbing up to it (solution: take out the pin holding the flagpole to the ground. The pole and flag then come fully down to ground level). But if Rogers is so clever, couldn't he figure out a different way to help the war effort than risk his life on a super soldier serum?
For me, then, the film didn't provide a compelling reason for Rogers to serve in this particular way. To be fair, the film tries to get away from the easy brawn > brains play. Rogers (and we the audience) are told that Rogers-rather than a more fit cadet--was picked to be a guinea pig for the serum because "weak men know the value of strength and also compassion." (This may not be the exact quote; I was scribbling my notes in a dark theatre, after all. But the quote captures the gist of the line.) Thus, we are informed, Rogers is the perfect candidate to be a super soldier because his ability to be compassionate is a function of his having been a weakling. Wow-what would Superman (or Ma and Pa Kent) say to that? Or Wonder Woman? (Perhaps the fact that she's female means she's got a leg up on compassion?)
I was also disappointment by the two-dimensionality of other aspects of the film. The bad guys wear black. (And their faces they sport some weird leather pre-cursor to a Darth Vader mask-why are all the evil minions faces hidden behind a what-must-be uncomfortable and vision-obscuring mask?) The evil overlord is a power-hungry megalomaniac whose origin story I'd love to learn about; his dialogue feels like it could date from a World War II-era film. No depth there.
Once I was over my disappointment about the lack of psychologically rich material, I tried to have fun with the film. Yet I kept having moments of déjà-vu-that I'd seen something like this before. There were bits that reminded me of Star Wars (especially the evil minions marching in formation) and of Raiders of the Lost Ark (another film in which Nazi megalomaniacs mess with occult powers they don't fully understand in an effort to be boss of the world). There didn't seem to be a lot that felt unique to the film.
On a positive note, there was one bit that I thought was great: before Cap becomes the soldier he longs to be, there is a montage that showed the commodification of Captain America. He and two dozen dancers in patriotic short dresses do a tour of the US in order to sell war bonds. The montage includes Captain America comic books (yes, they worked in that there were Captain America comic books during the war-brilliant!), which are shown being read by children as well as some soldiers. A cool interweaving of fiction and fact.
We'll see what next summer's crop of superhero films brings.
Copyright 2011 by Robin S. Rosenberg. All rights reserved. Robin S. Rosenberg is a clinical psychologist. Her website is DrRobinRosenberg.com
Monday, July 11, 2011
San Diego Comic Convention 2011

Saturday, July 23
1:00-2:00 Comics Arts Conference Session #11: Psychology of the Dark Knight: How Trauma Formed the Batman and Why He's Got a Thing for "Bad Girls"— How realistic is it that a young Bruce Wayne would vow to spend the rest of his life avenging his parents' murders and "warring on all criminals"? How did these seminal events shape the man Wayne becomes? And why is he attracted to "bad girls"? For answers to these and other questions, psychologists Travis Langley (Henderson State University) and Robin Rosenberg (Psychology of Superheroes) ask Batman writer Grant Morrison, one-time Catwoman Lee Meriwether (Batman: The Movie), journalist Jill Pantozzi (Newsarama), and executive producer Michael Uslan (The Dark Knight Rises). Room 26AB
Tags: Comic-Con Special Guest Spotlights & Appearances | Comics | Comics Arts Conference | Superheroes
Sunday, July 24
4:00-5:00 The Superhero Battlefield— What drives superheroes to keep fighting the good fight without getting burned out, disillusioned, or transforming into villains themselves? Trauma psychologist Dr. Andrea Letamendi (UCLA) explores the minds of your favorite comic book heroes and villains, linking them with the very real minds of actual trauma survivors. Alongside Dr. Letamendi are fellow psychologists Dr. Robin Rosenberg (The Psychology of Superheroes) and Dr. Travis Langley (Batman in his Belfry), as well as guest panelists including writer Len Wein (Swamp Thing). Room 4
Monday, July 12, 2010
San Diego Comic Convention 2010
If you're going to be at the San Diego Comic Convention on Saturday, July 24, stop by for this panel:
10:30-11:30 am Comics Arts Conference Session #9: Batman and the Empty Nest Syndrome — Does Batman become a different type of person when he has a sidekick? Join panelists Denny O’Neil (Batman writer and editor), Michael Uslan (Executive Producer, Batman Films), psychologists Travis Langley (Henderson State University) and Robin Rosenberg (The Psychology of Superheroes), Tommy Cash (The Workday Comic), and neuroscientist E. Paul Zehr (Becoming Batman) as they discuss who Batman is when he works alone versus who he becomes when he works with Bat-family members. Room 26AB
I hope to see you there!
Friday, January 1, 2010
Sherlock Holmes as Super-Hero?

I watched the new Sherlock Holmes film (like millions of folks), and several thoughts occurred to me as I watched the film:
- I could fully enjoy the film only after I got past the fact that the film was not a (re)telling of Holmes stories, but was a reinvention or reinterpretation of the characters. That is, the film is a re-boot of Sherlock Holmes—paying homage to Conan Doyle's stories, but recreating the character anew. Many reinventions of Holmes exist, and I have read a number of such re-boots, including my favorite, The Beekeeper's Apprentice
by Laurie King. This book is the first (and best, I think) in a series of books about Holmes as an older man, as told from the perspective of a teenage American who gets to know him. It is a bold reinvention of the Holmes character. (For really bizarre reinventions of the character, read Sherlock Holmes Through Time and Space
.)
- What's with the urge to make heroes into superheroes? For those of you who haven't seen the film, this version of Sherlock Holmes likes to fight—hand-to-hand, naked-torso-to-naked-torso fights. He uses his substantial mental powers to calculate just the right angle and velocity of a punch to knock out his opponent.
- While watching the film, I kept thinking about Bruce Wayne—and an appropriate 1-sentence movie summary could be:
"Bruce Wayne placed in Victorian England and played by Iron Man actor; Alfred the Butler morphs into Watson and Catwoman becomes Irene Adler"
Bruce Wayne and the original, Conan-Doyle version of Holmes share several characteristics. They both:
- are excellent detectives;
- are incredibly smart, clever, and well-read;
- enjoy an intellectual challenge;
- trust almost no one;
- are comfortable with moral ambiguity.
Add superb physical prowess to Holmes's already considerable arsenal—as director Guy Ritchie does—and this Holmes is even more like Batman, without the latter's costume or the alter ego. (Of course, Conan Doyle's and Ritchie's Holmes each have several alter egos and costumes that are used in pursuit of quarry—such as dressing up as beggars, or laborers like chimney sweeps, and cab drivers.)
- Why do we elevate heroes into super-heroes? (Note—I've added a hyphen to "super-heroes" to refer to regular heroes with "super-abilities," as distinct from the typical masked, caped, or supernaturally powered "superheroes" such as those by DC and Marvel.) I think that several factors play into the popularity of super-powered heroism like that of Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes (and that of Jack Bauer of 24—whose super-abilities include the capacities to withstand and to afflict torture on a regular basis, or Eliza Dushku's character, Echo, in the last half of the 2nd season of Dollhouse):
1. In a post-9/11 world, there an undeniable appeal of a better-than-human hero who can accomplish more that most heroes, at least to Americans (any why do I specify American here? That a topic for another blog).
2. Super-abled heroes remind us of our childhood (when all adults were more powerful than we kids were), and when "heroic" adults would swoop in to help us when we needed them to. These super-abled heroic adults were typically smarter, stronger, faster, and often more moral than were we kids.
3. Super-hero stories are comforting because we know that all will turn out well in the en. Even though we may feel tense as the story unfolds, we know in our hearts that in (American) super-hero, good will triumph over evil.
Sherlock Holmes was fun, and had a huge budget behind it (in production) and in front of it (in marketing). He's a Victorian super-hero now, and like superheroes in film, we'll be seeing more of this super-hero in the years to come. Will Sherlock Holmes backpacks, lunch boxes, and t-shirts be far behind?
Happy new year!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Clarifications About The Dark Knight

In a response to comment about an earlier blog entry, I noted the cumulative trauma that might explain why Harvey Dent went over the edge to become Two-Face:
his parents and sibling killed, love of his life killed--after she'd agreed to marry him, facial disfigurement, and extreme pain from the fire.Since that post, I've read the "novelization" of the movie , written by former Batman writer/editor Denny O'Neil. (Click here, The Dark Knight
The novelization provided interesting backstories for the events in the movie, and helped clarify a couple of the movie's more confusing elements. The novelization makes it clear that:
- The two murdered individuals with "Harvey" and "Dent" identification tags had no family relationship to Harvey Dent;
- The Joker intended to misdirect Batman when he revealed the locations where Rachel Dawes and Harvey Dent were being held. He tells Batman that Rachel is at one address and Dent at the other location. When Gordon then asks Batman which one he was going to, Batman replies, "Dent knew the risks," and he rushes off to the location that Joker said housed Rachel.
"He had expected to see Rachel, to free her and get her out of the building. To tell her he loved her and would keep her safe forever. Instead, he saw Harvey Dent lying in a black puddle, bound to a chair. Next to him were two barrels, one on its side, and a timer. Shock and horror flooded over Batman…Rachel, thought Batman. Good God, I've failed her…
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Dr. Robin on the History Channel

The History Channel aired a segment called Batman Unmasked: The Psychology of the Dark Knight. I spoke about Bruce Wayne, the trauma he experienced in watching his parents' murder, and how it has transformed him.
Here are links to riffs I've given on other superheroes:
Superheroes generally (in the Boston Phoenix) and movie reviews of the first Hellboy and Hulk movies.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Cultural Learned Helplessness
First, Gotham City: Before Batman's arrival in Gotham City, criminals controlled the city, and the police force was riddled with corruption. Citizens feared to go out at night and they—and the good cops on the force—felt helpless against the ever-encroaching tide of crime and graft. Gotham residents seemed to have had learned helplessness in response to the crime in the city—nothing they did made a difference. But Bruce Wayne didn't feel this way. He became an agent of change on behalf of Gotham's citizens. Why didn't he experience learned helplessness—particularly after witnessing the murder of his parents? His wealth and position in society shielded him from the chronic and inescapable crime and corruption experienced by most of Gotham's residents—and hence from the learned helplessness-inducing cage of the city. So Wayne was in a better position to feel hope (or at least to feel that there was something he could do to turn things around). And he was right: When Batman arrived in Gotham City, his image and actions reversed the culture of the city: it was criminals who felt fear, and the upstanding citizens and good cops could mobilize to take back their city. Wayne's being an outsider was instrumental to his belief that he could change things.
Next, the Star Wars universe (episodes IV-VI). Emperor Palpatine was a ruthless tyrant, who ruled the galaxy with an iron fist. He stopped at nothing to instill fear in those who would oppose him and used terror tactics when necessary to hound the populace into submission. He sought to create learned helplessness across his Empire—to create a citizenry ready to do his bidding with no questions asked. In Episode IV ("A New Hope"), it was only a relatively small band of rebels who were sufficiently motivated and able to fight back in any way they could. Two of these rebels were Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker. (In fact, there's a sense in which Leia was the key player: she inspired Luke to join the Rebel Alliance. Han Solo only became part of the rebel cause through circumstances and his relationships with Leia and Luke.) How did Luke and Leia escape the learned helplessness prevalent throughout the Galactic Empire? Like Bruce Wayne, they were raised outside the dark cloud of fear and oppression—in remote regions of the galaxy outside the Emperor's glare. Leia, like Bruce Wayne, was raised in a position of privilege and was brought up to be a leader. Luke grew up on an even more remote planet. Both were untouched by the pervasive hopelessness in the larger society; they were outsiders, rebelling against the dark forces and instilling hope.
Onto the Harry Potter's wizarding world. In Goblet of Fire, Harry's godfather, Sirius Black recounts their world during Voldemort's first ascendance: "You know [Voldermort] can control people so that they do terrible things without being able stop themselves. You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing … The Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do…Terror everywhere … panic … confusion … that’s how it used to be." Here again, the heroes are outsiders who rebel against dark forces and inspire others. Harry and Hermione grew up in the Muggle world, outside the terror of Voldemort's reign (Ron, raised within a terrorized society, is less of a leader than a follower. Like Han Solo, it is his relationships with the leaders that impel him to takes the risks that he does.)
I think that for many people in the United States, the years of George W. Bush's administration have been a period of learned helplessness. The administration and its cronies have engaged in fear-mongering, corruption and graft (legal though it may be in some cases), the curtailing of civil liberties, and outright lying about events relating to the Iraq war and other matters. Citizens who see these abuses of power have come to feel helpless to change them during his tenure; they are counting down until he leaves office. People also feel ground down by years of bitter political fighting between the parties.
Barack Obama is popular, in part, because he seems to be outside the system relative to other candidates. Like Batman, Princess Leia, and Harry and Hermione, when he looks at his society, he sees what's possible and wants to make that possibility a reality. But Obama goes one better than the heroes and heroines I've noted. In his work as a community organizer, he's done more than fight the good fight and inspire people, he's encouraged people to act on their own behalf. He didn't do all the work for them; he helped them to help themselves. I think that's part of his appeal. To use a Batman metaphor, he doesn’t offer to swoop in and round up all the bad guys; he'll help people figure out what they need in order to do their own policing, and then try to make sure they get what they need. People talk about Obama being more than a candidate—that he's the center of a movement. I think that analysis is correct: for many people, his candidacy isn't about what he'll do for Americans, but what he'll inspire us to do for ourselves.
Robin S. Rosenberg is a clinical psychologist and author; most recently she contributed to and edited the book Psychology of Superheroes.