Michael Fairbanks
Comic book superheroes live in a world that can adapt to their existence. For the sake of storytelling, we can believe that most of Stan Lee’s New York can fall in love with Spider-Man even though his presence should terrify them. The prospect of one person deciding that they are the one to enact justice is inherently a bit unhinged, as explored in Bayan Joonam’s Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero. Jones (aka Ben Fodor) is a man who rose to prominence when he started patrolling Seattle in the early 2010s. He spent most of his time busting petty drug crimes and stopping rioters during protests, occasionally getting involved with larger skirmishes. His efforts spawned a community of local crimefighters called the Rain City Superhero Movement, several of whom we get to chat with in this film. It doesn’t take long for the veil of altruism to start slipping. Ben is fueled by deep family trauma and ultimately ventured down the path of some criminality himself. He’s a fascinating contradiction.
Ben is a bit of a prickly subject. He’s interviewed prominently throughout Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero and often gives combative answers. He is a man of utter conviction. He believes wholeheartedly in maintaining order during turbulent times. This creates a fascinating culture clash when he, as a black man, inserts himself into Black Lives Matter protests across multiple years. He supports the right to protest but also loudly lectures the angry Seattleites about how looting turns them into the violent people the police believe they are. These people largely shrug him off, yelling back that he is essentially a cop in different clothing. These potential scruples do not shake Ben, who is more than willing to use his martial arts training to scrap with people if need be. Even during his golden age, it is clear that the people of Seattle view Phoenix Jones as an amusing sideshow novelty at best and an outright nuisance at worst.
He becomes even more perturbed when questions come up about drug charges that are impending throughout much of Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero. For some time, he refuses to acknowledge it in any way. Eventually, he caves and explains that he was more of an accessory to his roommate’s activities. The other folks in the superhero community have a different story. At one point, one of them says that it was local folklore that if you said cocaine three times, he would appear. The discourse he shares among the group of oddballs is one of the film’s more interesting aspects, which is sadly sped through. We have brief encounters with the likes of former mob enforcer Midnight Jack, recon expert Purple Reign (who is also Ben’s ex-wife), war veteran SkyMan, and the sombrero-clad El Caballero. All of them seem to have personalities just as big if not bigger than Ben, but they’re mostly just used to cast doubt over the truthfulness of Ben’s answers.
Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero spends a great deal of time analyzing Ben’s family drama. He spent some time in an orphanage, although the exact timeframe is nebulous and debated. He has a deeply strained relationship with his adoptive brother Karos that even escalated to the point of the two of them fighting in a televised mixed martial arts match. These issues have clearly not been resolved, as he and Karos talk about each other with severe disappointment and venom. The only true light in Ben’s personal life is his relationship with his son, Freedom, who is really the only one who truly understands why his father is the way he is. In fairness, nobody else in Ben’s circle is particularly stable.
It is hard to look at Phoenix Jones: The Rise and Fall of a Real Life Superhero and see Ben’s mission as anything other than a failure. He didn’t truly build a movement, just assembled a handful of outcasts to roam the streets with him. His reputation is strained. People are still doing drugs in the streets. Police violence is still raging. All Ben can really do is vent his grievances via this documentary, put his suit back on, and re-enter the fray. This is a compelling if unremarkable portrait of Ben’s ego and his efforts to make Seattle a better place. It lacks a truly coherent thesis statement about the nature of vigilantism, perhaps in an effort to appeal to the superhero-loving audience that will surely be the main viewership for this. Although, to be fair, when your subject can’t even keep his story straight, all you can really do is stick your head out of the Batmobile’s window and pray that the wheels don’t fall off.
