The FIVE Stages of a DC Trailer

The new DC trailer just dropped. Your phone alerts you and you wipe the Cheeto dust off your fingers to prevent even more Cheeto dust clouding the screen of your phone. A sweat materializes just above your brow and runs down the side of your face. Your heart races and you think to yourself, “This could be it. This could be the one.”

The video loads, it buffers for a moment and the first visual comes onto screen; so far so good. There’s brooding in it; flaccid attempts at humor; a stylistic shot of the hero(es) and some dialogue that makes the stakes seem higher than they will be. The trailer ends and you replay it several more times. You then digress into what can only be summed up as the five stages of a DCEU (DC Extended Universe) trailer


You are sure it’s great. The trailer had everything you wanted to see. It had your favorite characters in it. They brooded while also punching faceless villains. The hero quips with other characters that might be funny in context.  There may have even been a few shots with color in them. You even feel the hair stand up on your arms at the money shot of the trailer. Whether it is Aquaman riding on the hood of the Batmobile or Wonder Woman making Batman a sandwich, this trailer has you excited. This could be the one that changes every nay-sayer’s mind and re-affirm your own fledgling doubts that there could be a good, let alone great DC movie.


You share it on Facebook and Twitter, commenting that you are hopeful. You might even include a remark like, “I didn’t hate the last DC movies but this one looks fantastic!” Or you may remark on a specific shot of the trailer, “Did you see that awesome sandwich Wonder Woman made for Batman?!” (Okay, I will stop the Wonder Woman making Batman sandwiches joke but you know she’d be really, really good at it. She might even use WONDER bread. I will see myself out.)

You begin to get comments on your post from trusted friends and from people who did not know Batman was not part of the Avengers. This leads to the second stage…


Your best friend, Mikey Joe Flannigan, comments saying that it does not look good. Your eyes widen. HOW COULD MIKEY JOE FLANNIGAN BETRAY YOUR SWORN TRUST? WERE YOU NOT ALLIES IN THE GREAT SUSIE-JONNY BREAKUP SOPHOMORE YEAR?! DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE SAME TRAILER? “It’s okay, breathe,” you tell yourself. Your bag of Cheetos is now empty and this only fuels your rage. You begin to type, explaining the nuances that one needs to understand to understand the masterpiece of footage clipped together (in what will probably be better editing than the actual mopqcxxM8vie). A small part of you debates on whether telling that bastard Mikey Joe Flannigan that your friendship is on the line but you resist. Your Aunt Frieda comments, asking how you are – not anything pertaining to the actual film. She always does this. You fight every fiber in your being to tell Aunt Frieda that this is not the time nor place. You just do not comment back.

More people comment.  Some are experiencing similar feelings and go for Mikey Joe Flannigan’s precious throat with such biting remarks like, “Marvel Fanboy” or “Do you just want movies made for kids?” You feel vindicated. To subside your anger and prove to yourself Mikey Joe Flannigan is wrong, you watch the trailer again. You begin to notice things Mikey Joe Flannigan pointed out. You begin to…


“There’s so much the trailer has not shown that will put things into context.”
“They have months to make sure the CGI is better.”
“Wonder Woman’s acting will be better. You can’t just judge acting by voice over lines in a trailer.”
“Zack Snyder learned from his mistakes in Batman V Superman.”

“Bring me the head of Marvel and I will make a good movie.”

These are just a couple of the things you are telling yourself. You start to become increasingly worried with each passing phrase. You try to trade your reservations for reasons why they are unnecessary. You even start to google rituals to ensure movies are good. Apparently, ancient black magic practices have not yet advanced to have persuasion over motion pictures. There’s something that involves cutting your own toes off that might just work but you are not sure where to find a Newt.


You begin to plead with a photograph of Zack Snyder on Instagram. You say to his smiling, carefree face that you will donate the blood of orphans to ensure the quality of the movie.  Your sobs become audible. The tears stream down your crumpled-up face. You are all out of tissue from the last time you went through this. You have slipped into…


“I need to bathe in my own filth to wash the stench of that trailer off of me.”

You turn off your phone and sit in silence. It vibrates as more people comment, arguing with one another about the movie. You contemplate your past experiences and know that you are going to be disappointed once again. You write a note to your loved ones but crumple it up – they will only call your contemplation of boycotting all DC movies as a cry of attention. You look at your exes’ pictures and how that relationship was the Suicide Squad of relationships: it was fun but it lacked any substance. You begin to write a poem but think better of it. The first line of the first stanza reads: “How thou hast ripened expectations only to sour reality.”

giphy2.gifYour depression cripples you. Whereas your hero, Batman, uses his cause of depression to fight crime, you can barely fight the urge to eat the comfort food in your pantry.  You are a lost soul in a world where DC movies just are not that good. You look in the mirror. You realize there might be something out there. There could be hope. You have found…


You realize that at the end of the day, the new DC movie does not matter all that much. You go outside. You realize there is a whole world around you. The sun is shining and you are breathing. You might even begin to dance or sing a little. There are people suffering in the world and you are concerned about a trailer? How utterly trivial! I mean, you already know that no matter what…you are still going to see the movie and be disappointed. You might as well just live in between.


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