This is a necropost. A version of this review was originally posted March 17, 2021 on my Letterboxd.
What could I possibly even say about Zack Snyder’s Justice League, a film, if that’s what you want to call it, so dominated by its auteur’s oppressive vision that everything I thought was excessive or ridiculous about Man of Steel or Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice is here, and turned up to eleventy-twelve.
I joke sometimes that I committed to the bit too hard on the Snyderverse, but I loathed Man of Steel and BvS, I loathed Justice League 1.0, and knew going in that I would feel very similarly about this one, so at a certain point, it just becomes punching myself in the face for no fun and no profit. At least I know what everyone’s talking about, right? I guess? Worth it? Is it? Is it?
It’s better than 1.0 mostly by virtue of not having its strong, if unpleasant, vision interfered with by things like “executive meddling” and “good taste,” but it also doesn’t have any footage of Henry Cavill’s face conspicuously refusing to acknowledge it doesn’t have a moustache on it. Pros and cons, you know?
Truly, Zack Snyder’s Justice League.