The Superman Moment In The Iron Giant Is The Best Action Scene Ever
(Welcome to Best Action Scene Ever, a column dedicated to breaking down the best, most effective action sequences throughout the genre. In this edition, we revisit the surprisingly dark, highly emotional, but quintessentially Superman moment of self-sacrifice in the climax of "The Iron Giant.")
Over 20 years after its release, time has been immensely kind to "The Iron Giant." A perfect example of a film creating a lasting legacy far beyond its disappointing box office performance, the groundbreaking animation effort would put filmmaker Brad Bird on the map (along with his notoriously exacting reputation and painstaking filmmaking approach) and go on to establish itself as one of the best superhero movies of all time. Not too shabby for a hand-drawn production featuring an absolute bare minimum of action scenes and a first-time director at the helm. The 1999 classic is also one of the greatest anti-gun pleas ever committed to film (Bird's late sister Susan, whom the film is dedicated to, was a victim of gun violence and a chief source of inspiration for the film's main message), so it's only fitting that the standout sequence in "The Iron Giant" comes at its most emotionally fraught and overtly violent point.
Almost from the minute the mysterious visitor from space (voiced by Vin Diesel, in one of his earliest roles) crosses paths with Hogarth Hughes (Eli Marienthal), the amnesiac robot has to come to grips with his inherently irreconcilable differences. The fact that he's the deadliest weapon humanity has ever seen profoundly counters his innocent, almost childlike nature as a good person who aspires to be the good guy. After brilliantly setting up his own Superman moment and his freedom to be "what you choose to be" earlier in the film, it all pays off in one unforgettable scene.
The scene
After spending the entire movie in hiding (as much as a 50-foot-tall, metal-eating robot can, that is), the Iron Giant and Hogarth's shared secret finally unravels when government spook Kent Mansley (Christopher McDonald) brings the full force of the US Army to the shores of Rockwell, Maine, at the height of Cold War tensions in the 1950s. Forced into action when a couple of kids put themselves in harm's way and require the Giant's help, his instinct to do the right thing finally exposes him to the entire gawking town ... who promptly put aside all their suspicions and hail him as a hero. That victory is painfully short-lived, however, when Mansley spots the Giant and convinces the general (John Mahoney) to open fire.
Having already laid the groundwork for the Giant's automatic self-defense mechanism that turns him into a weapon of mass destruction, the results prove predictably disastrous throughout the film's only extended action sequence. Animated so that the very color and mood of the scene shifts into apocalyptic oranges and reds, the Giant's deadly rampage remains impressive for actually going there — and likely frightening quite a few kids in the audience along the way. Even when Hogarth appeals to the Giant's humanity and successfully reminds him that he doesn't have to be a gun, this touching moment is soon undercut when the cowardly Mansley orders a nuclear strike. And as the townspeople resign themselves to their fate (in stark contrast to the film reels shown at Hogarth's school, adults and children alike know that fallout shelters will do absolutely nothing in the face of atomic warfare), the Giant realizes that he's the only one capable of saving the day — even if it means giving up his life to do so.
Why it works
"You stay ... I go."
"The Iron Giant" isn't just a throwback in terms of its 1950s setting, but also in capturing a distinct sense of earnestness from when movies of this era (think "The Rocketeer" or "Flight of the Navigator") wore their Amblin influences on their sleeve. The entire friendship between Hogarth and the Giant works on the simplest terms possible, painting in character moments and important narrative beats in broad strokes. So, too, does the addition of beatnik artist Dean (Harry Connick, Jr.) and especially his lightning-fast realization that the Giant isn't a threat to Hogarth or anyone else — his programming simply responds to perceived danger in a way that he can't control. This isn't a movie that gets stuck in the weeds of over-convoluted plotting ... so, naturally, its emotional undercurrent operates on a very similar approach.
The script by Bird and credited writer Tim McCanlies innately understands the appeal of big emotional swings and selfless actions, motivated by nothing more than a desire to do the right thing. When the "camera" closes in on the Giant's face as he slowly recognizes the gravity of the situation and makes his fateful decision, the gorgeous animation work captures all of this expressiveness in the set of his jaw and the contours of his eyes alone. And when he says his last goodbye to Hogarth and blasts off into the sky, Hogarth's quiet pronouncement of love only rivals the Giant's final word that says so much more: "Superman."
None of this would hit as hard without the airtight and fundamental storytelling work taking place throughout the first two-thirds of the story, but the secret sauce in "The Iron Giant" is Bird and his collaborators knowing exactly when to swing big.
The key moment
In some alternate universe, maybe "The Iron Giant" follows Brad Bird's original plan to have the Giant die at the end — luckily, McCanlies realized that he simply couldn't let that be the last we saw of him. Indeed, ending with the triumphant callback to the reassembling sequence from earlier in the film does nothing to undermine the climactic sacrifice. What matters is the Giant's memory of Hogarth's words while flying out into space to meet the nuclear warhead, recalling that, "You are what you choose to be." His choice is the natural endpoint of his arc, not his death.
And while the most cynical interpretation of the ending is that it leaves the door open for sequels (which obviously never happened), the tone and spirit of the film all but demands that the Giant survive. Even when it evokes "Bambi" with the deer scene in the forest and opens the Giant's eyes to the inevitability of death, "The Iron Giant" still manages to ride that impossibly tricky line of balancing sobering, adult-minded themes (a constant in Bird's filmography, as we saw in "The Incredibles") with that childlike sense of wonder infused in Hogarth's impossibly wide eyes and the Giant's own understanding of who and what he is.
So when the stray bolt (the only part of the Giant recovered from the explosion) begins to jump around in Hogarth's room and makes its way to the window, everything clicks into place. We'll never know if the Giant blasts off to another planet entirely, safe in the knowledge that he isn't a gun, or if the two ever reunite for more adventures. Either way, he has the rest of his life to choose — and keep choosing — to do the right thing.