Chapter 05: What Would Zack Do?
Zack Snyder’s Office(concept)
I don’t remember everything I did on June 14th, 2013—exactly eleven years, eight months, and three days prior to this writing. But I do know what I wasn’t doing: standing in line at NYC’s Alice Tully Theater, ticket in hand, for the summer blockbuster premiere of Man of Steel, directed by Zack Snyder.
Man of Steel Ignored – A Visual Representation of Denial
Despite a barrage of accolades from friends whose opinions I trust, despite a poster that played to my Gen-X consumer sensibilities, and despite my lifelong cultural attachment to the lore—I denied the film’s existence.
And I did so, nose dismissively high, out of a fear that was not without cause. A cause not without injury. An injury not without insult. And despite what you may be thinking, my reaction was entirely rational. Perhaps even Freudian.
Let’s flash back.
Step inside the Temple of Nostalgia, where the echoes of classic cinema still whisper through the golden halls. But be careful—some relics aren’t meant to be disturbed…
The Temple of Nostalgia and the Desecration of Lore
It’s the late ’70s.
Valium is failing as a cure for my mother’s depression. Divorce is failing as a fix for irreconcilable differences between well-meaning parents. And I—through no choice of my own—am caught in the crossfire.
Feels about right.
For those unfamiliar with the collateral damage sustained by a vulnerable ten-year-old in such conditions, imagine your first introduction to dark, hostile energy comes not from the playground, nor from the older, predatorily inclined variety, but from the sound of your own mother’s screams during an argument. Screams that grow louder, darker, more venomous—until your father reciprocates in kind, voice like a thunderclap. And then comes the crescendo: the sound of a household object, heavy and sharp-edged, being thrown across the room. A shattering explosion of glass. A slammed door. And then, silence.
Ten years from now, Daytime Talk Shows will start teaching America that a positive home environment is great in ’88. But this is 1978. No one’s talking about the damage being done, least of all the parents doing the damage.
And I, in the middle of it, have nowhere to run.
But then, something happens.
The 1978 Premiere of Superman(concept)
On December 15th, 1978, Superman: The Movie is released in theaters nationwide.
And in every beautiful frame, I find something miraculous: proof that magic is real.
A torch is lit. A flickering fire grows. A guiding light appears in what was once a dark tunnel. And suddenly, escape doesn’t seem impossible. The reason men of a certain age become radical preservationists of original lore isn’t always about some dysfunctional, religious devotion to nostalgia. It’s because, in very real ways, these stories saved our lives.
Richard Donner’s Superman didn’t just entertain me—it kept me exploring. His films led me to Joseph Campbell, Campbell led me to mythology, and mythology led me to understanding my own narrative.
Deep inside my imagination of protected childhood memories: Keith’s Fortress Of Solitude
That’s why I built a temple, in my mind, around this film.
And that’s why I felt the need to protect it.
But against what?
Against the desecration of that temple. Against the soulless, studio-mandated rewrites that strip lore of its meaning and replace myth with marketing.
And before you call me dramatic, let me remind you of The Fantastic Four.
A film that didn’t just disappoint—it betrayed.
I will never forget seeing, center-frame, a glorified product placement masquerading as a prop car. A moment of supposed cinematic spectacle hijacked by an automotive corporation eager to shove their campaign slogan into the script.
Nothing like poorly disguised product placement to ruin a viewing experience.
And so, it wasn’t just that they killed my childhood heroes.
The experience was more akin to traveling to a last known location, expecting to perform a wellness check for a friend, only to discover my hero in a dimly lit motel room, blowing some dude for coke. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that—just that I wasn’t expecting to see it in my childhood bedtime story.)
When they went after Star Wars—when they castrated Han Solo’s preemptive strike into an act of revisionist self-defense—I knew it was time to get militant.
The barricades went up.
The blinders came on.
And for ten long years, I refused to acknowledge Man of Steel.
Then Came the Earthquake
Eventually, against my better judgment, I watched Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel.
Keith screens 'Man Of Steel’(2013) for the first time- in 2025.
And the earth shook.
I will attempt to keep short what has already been repeated, ad nauseam, across the fruited plains of the internet:
Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel is a superbly-written, perfectly cast, impeccably directed masterpiece of filmmaking.
Not just because the visual effects hold their own in 2025.
Not just because Henry Cavill added layers of complexity that deepened my interest in a character I already knew so well.
Not just because Michael Shannon transformed General Zod from a cartoonish warlord into a tactical freedom fighter.
But because of the revelation that both characters were fighting for causes that, if examined without bias, were eerily similar.
For a brief, fleeting moment, the lines between protagonist and antagonist blurred beyond recognition.
And in that moment, I realized something:
My entire understanding of the hero’s journey had been incomplete.
The idea of absolute good and absolute evil had been an illusion.
And for the first time, I saw the story with new eyes.
And Now, A New Question
If I was able to take a childhood obsession with film and turn it into gainful employment as an IATSE Local 52 Studio Mechanic—
3am Condor Pre-Flight
If I was able to build a career by studying, analyzing, and replicating the mechanics of storytelling and cinematography—
Then could the challenges of learning Python be solved the same way?
Could a cinematic, character-driven curriculum—a system of illustrations, maps, and story beats—turn code comprehension into a single-read delivery system?
Instead of leveraging AI to write code for me (and learning nothing), could I use AI to create an environment that works in tandem with my existing skills?
Could I build something that allows me to emerge, weeks or months from now, not just with a few scattered coding tricks, but with the proficiency to do something extraordinary?
If Zack Snyder were here, what would he say?
Would he tell me to fuck off?
Or would he tell me to go and find out?
The Heroes Journey. Now Playing. Forever.
