The Incredibles 2 and fragile masculinity

The Incredibles, released in 2004, is a masterpiece. It is one of the funniest films Disney Pixar has ever produced engaging with theme of, for example, superheroes and their seemingly unquestioned jurisdiction when normal law enforcement is outmatched. But what makes it more relatable is its focus on modern day family drama as supers find it increasingly difficult to live a ‘normal’ lifestyle. Fourteen years have passed and finally, we have been given a sequel in the form of Incredibles 2. Not only is it as good, if not better than its predecessor, but it extends its exploration into the idea of what it means to not only be a hero, but to be ‘super’ as well. I’ll be discussing how Brad Bird exposes fragile masculinity in the acts of Mr Incredible/Bob Parr in both films as well as what sort of an impact it has on the ideal of the modern family.

Great photo for the family Christmas Card

One of the opening lines comes from Tony, the high school student who has planned to take Violet out on a date, saying he is “very secure, masculine wise” in response to seeing Violet accidently remove her mask. This theme of men needing to conform to the role of the dominant masculine figure was the central topic in the original. By tapping in on police radio waves, Bob fuels his insatiable desire to save others to feed his need for self-worth. This spirals out of control when he feels he cannot tell his wife he was fired from his mundane, morale killing desk job and instead goes behind her back to pursue well payed hero work for a shady, private, remote island owning company. You know, the suspicious stuff no one seems to notice. This lie almost kills Bob’s marriage to Helen, let alone his entire family. After admitting Bob is not strong enough to lose his family again and witnessing how well Dash and Violet can utilise their powers, we begin to see a new-found dependency on his family who help him no matter what. 

Men at work

On to Incredibles 2, and after a brief taste of family hero work against The Underminer, things almost go back to the way they were, almost… After deciding that Elastigirl is a far safer option, meaning less money spent on property damage, Helen leaves her husband alone with the children. Bob has always been the one to slave through a boring desk job to support his family and watching Helen thwart each challenge the Screenslaver seems to throw at her and receive all the credit starts to crush his self-worth. Dealing with Jack-Jack’s newly emerging powers, Dash’s homework and Violet’s boyfriend issues becomes too much for him as he crumbles under the pressure of parenthood. But why is this? How can a man who is used to saving lives on a daily basis, demonstrating his superhuman strength for the world to admire, struggle with the concept of maths not being the same as it used to be? The main crux of the problem is his belief that everything Mr Incredible does must be done to an ‘incredible’ standard, stating, “I’m not Mr Mediocre or Mr So So.” This leaves us with a man who exhibits a toxic expectation of life: of being the best, the bravest and strongest all of the time. If he is known for his super strength, then why can’t he carry the needs and wants of his family? It all comes down to talking about his feelings with Violet, admitting that in trying to do everything to an incredible standard, he is sorry that he failed. He isn't met with disappointment or anger, only a loving hug from his eldest child, sympathetic to his situation.

More evidence that a papoose isn't emasculating

In this, Brad Bird has written the character of Mr Incredible/Bob Parr to criticise the ideals of the modern man and father. The idea that men can’t admit to failure, and then feel the need to lie as Bob does in both films, only delays the inevitable, needlessly exacerbating the situation. Bird turns Mr Incredible into a man who learns that failure can help build us and that superheroes can suffer the same day-to-day problems as us normal folk. The idea that we treat superheroes as deities, exceptional beings possessing an infallible moral compass, maybe where this stems from. By expecting perfection all the time, we then lose hope in their ideal when we see how their attempt at mundane tasks leaves them defeated. Bob struggles with fatherhood and Helen fails to see what is directly under her nose regarding the Screenslaver's true intentions. In the end, to be incredible all of the time doesn’t make you incredible at all. It is no secret that men struggle with opening up about their feelings and I would hope many men my age, who would have been six when the original opened, have grown to accept that feelings, positive and negative, and see how other superheroes of cinema deal with sharing their flaws with family and friends.