Hardly as awful as many have claimed, Marvel’s Morbius is an okay addition to the subgenre of horror-flavored superhero movies in the tradition of Darkman (1990), Blade (1998), and Hellboy (2004). Jared Leto capably hobbles, broods, and bites in the role of Michael Morbius, a brilliant but debilitated scientist with a blood disease whose solution – infusing himself with bat DNA – restores him to health of a sort but also curses him with a thirst for gore. Matt Smith, meanwhile, hams it up as Milo, Morbius’s similarly afflicted childhood friend who, instead of attempting to help humanity, takes the darker path of seeking vengeance against the normal majority of humanity, with a Magneto/Professor X dynamic prevailing between them. Morbius is nothing special, but no more revolting than the typical comic book movie.

3.5 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that Morbius is:

Pseudo-feminist. A sexist mercenary refers to a female doctor as “nurse” and shortly thereafter is murdered by Morbius. Screenwriters Burk Sharpless and Matt Sazama betray their lack of commitment to female empowerment, however, by white-knighting and not allowing the doctor to roll up her sleeves Rosie-style and execute the man herself.

Secular, championing science and dismissing traditional Christian vampire lore.

Pro-police. Milo massacres several policemen – described as “unforgivable”.

Gay – but not too gay. “We haven’t had anything this good since that thing in San Francisco,” observes Agent Rodriguez (Al Madrigal), tasked with investigating a series of homicidal suckings. Vicious vampire bats welcome Morbius “like a brother” and leave him unharmed, alluding to homosexuals’ affinity and value to Jews as a key constituency of the coalition of the fringes. Morbius is not the first vampire story to invite interpretation as an allegory about homosexuality and AIDS – the David Bowie bloodsucker classic The Hunger (1983) comes to mind – and it is undeniable that the hero and villain are both subtextually queer, with Jared Leto’s previous high-profile performance as “Rayon” in Dallas Buyers Club (2013) lending the star a built-in homoerotic resonance, while Matt Smith’s star turn in Mapplethorpe (2018) speaks for itself. Milo and Morbius meet as wimpy, bullied British schoolboys, and their ambiguous friendship persists into adulthood, as does their poor health, with neither fellow having married or even pursued a love life, apparently. Milo discourages Morbius from falling in love with fellow physician Martine (Adria Arjona) and looks on resentfully from a distance as they share a kiss. “Michael doesn’t accept what he is,” Milo explains, threatening: “I’m going to make him accept it.” After taking the same bat serum as his erstwhile companion and gaining the same set of vampiric abilities, Milo wants to “have some fun” and take out his frustration on heteronormativity. “All our lives we’ve lived with death hanging over us,” the sissy exults: “Why, why shouldn’t they know what it feels like for a change?” Milo thus stands for the bake-me-a-gay-cake-bigot extremist and vengeful homosexual supremacist, whereas bisexual moderate Morbius examples what The Daily Shoah recently dubbed the “reasonable gays”. In Milo, Morbius cautions about the potential danger posed by unleashed predatory homosexual ultras to the coherence of the coalition of the fringes and the success of the Jewish project.

Rainer Chlodwig von K.

Rainer is the author of Drugs, Jungles, and Jingoism.