Oct. 16 marked the 23rd anniversary of the premier of “Smallville” and 23 years of industry and subliminal impact. The birth of “Smallville” and the revival of the Superman mantra swayed the industry, reached the needs of the American public and unexpectedly impacted my personal life.
Woe is the simpleton who starts a new show in the midst of exams. I am that simpleton, happily. As I surveyed the outskirts of Disney+ during midterm season, a dusty, buried jewel appeared. There it rested, the beauty I have come to adore effortlessly, “Smallville.”
My first encounter with the show was some Friday night in 2015. Ten years old, I descended the lightly carpeted basement staircase in search of a film for movie night. Past the collection of “Back to the Future” and the ten movie “Barbie Princess Classic Collection,” a large set of ten cardboard cases lay neatly reading: “Smallville.”
“What is that?” I asked my dad. “A great show.” He wiped a tear from his eye. To his disappointment, I opted for “Barbie: Princess Charm School.”
And there it rested, until the craze of midterms.
For those who did not have a DC obsessed father, “Smallville” is a 2001 show about the life of Clark Kent (Tom Welling) before the Superman mantra. Strictly adhering to the “no flight, no tights” rule, the story follows Clark in his hometown of Smallville from his extraterrestrial arrival as a young tot to his early adult life.
The opening season, Clark is a freshman in high school alongside his friends, Pete Ross (Sam Jones III), Chloe Sullivan (Allison Mack) and Lana Lang (Kristin Kreuk). In a “Scooby-Doo” manner, the crew must solve the travesties, murders and supernatural occurrences defaulting from the kryptonite-infected meteor collisions of twelve years prior. Through interaction with the extraterrestrial properties of the meteor fragments left behind, characters expel antagonizing powers and evil intentions, threatening the young Superman’s friends and family — including his future nemesis, Lex Luthor.
The worldwide popularity of “Smallville” allowed the entertainment industry to accept that superhero mediums could be successful. The 2012 launch of the CW’s “Arrowverse” preceded the cancellation of “Smallville” in 2011 with audience appreciation, allowing “Arrow,” “Supergirl” and “The Flash” to run for years. Other movies and shows produced by both the MCU and the DCEU following the cancellation received major success, such as “Avengers” and “Man of Steel” grossing $1.5 billion and $670 million respectively.
But beyond the surface level impact of “Smallville” was the underground emotional impact that presumably spread across households.
I believe the need for an encouraging outlet like “Smallville” was imperative in America at its premier. In 2001, fear spiraled across the nation: economic damage, the brink of war, conspiracy theorists stretching facts, familial loss and cross-cultural hatred. To live beyond the troubles of the day, people turned to entertainment. Behold “Smallville.”
A vulnerable kid with the capabilities of greatness in the eye of defeat was the vision of America the public most ardently sought. Clark’s trials barrelled relatability and his victories became shared amongst viewers. His undefeated pillar ethics and parental guidance brought peace to those without. Clark became a signal of hope once again, and so did the show.
As for the impact of “Smallville” in my life, a similar spark is evident in my father and myself.
There are many traits I have inherited from my father: my extraversion, the dark of my hair, my stubbornness, stoic independence, unparalleled quad genetics … etc. But most importantly, I inherited his geeky taste for movies and television.
“Smallville” tempted this affinity.
Two weeks ago when I was supposed to study for my midterms, I instead binged the show and called my father to update him on my thoughts. In doing so we have grown closer and found to share more than just my inherited traits. We bonded with geekiness over the show and favoritism toward Lex Luthor — though, we differ in reasons. Let’s just say, I may have a thing for bald, rich men. Looking at you, Bezos.
All jokes aside, the love for “Smallville” bridged a generational gap between us. My father, like his peers, needed this show in the early 2000s to comfort and uplift as I do in the storm of problematic midterms grades and the troubles of tomorrow.
Happy belated birthday “Smallville,” and thanks for 23 years of impact.
