Stan Lee (now on Disney+) does exactly what it says on the package: Pays tribute to the Marvel Comics figurehead and mastermind who created numerous iconic characters, including Spider-Man, the X-Men, the Fantastic Four and the Hulk. Or should that be CO-created? This biographical documentary gets into that, sort of. It also serves to quench our thirst for Marvel content in the 12 seconds between Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and the Secret Invasion series, which, in Marvel Cinematic Universe terms, is an eternity-and-a-half. Director David Gelb (Jiro Dreams of Sushi) goes from the days of Stan Lee pushing a broom through the Timely Comics office to being an instantly recognizable celebrity making cameos in MCU movies, with varying results.
The Gist: The first of many archival clips features an unrecognizable Stan Lee: Reserved, measured in tone, not-crazy hair, wearing a suit and tie, talking up Marvel Comics without hyperbole. Who the hell is THIS guy, is the immediate thought. We all know Stan Lee as the gregarious, cheerfully boastful chap in the amber-shade glasses and grey-streaked coif, bellowing “Excelsior!” in his Noo Yawk accent. Obviously, he wasn’t always a larger-than-life figure – he was born Stanley Martin Lieber in New York City in 1922, to a father who struggled to retain employment throughout the Great Depression. That kept young Stanley humble; at the time, his definition of success was simply to hold down a steady job. Stanley loved to read and write, and his uncle, a publisher, got him a catch-all job at Timely Comics; he swept up, ran errands and did a little proofreading while his co-workers, most notably industry titans Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, cranked out Captain America comics.
Notably, Stan Lee himself narrates this story, via archival interviews and what sounds like computer software that amalgamates his voice from old tapes and spews out new sentences (like what Roger Ebert used late in life, after losing his voice). Stanley was still 16 when he was asked by overworked Timely staff to write a story, and he obliged. He wanted to save his real name for his hopefully inevitable “legitimate” writing career, so he came up with a pen name – Hubert Dinklefwat. No! It was STAN LEE, and in retrospect, it was a case of unwitting genius in the branding realm. When Kirby and Simon left Timely, Lee was asked to be interim editor, and to hear him tell it, he “ran the place” when he was only 17 years old. When the U.S. entered World War II, Lee volunteered for service and ended up not fighting, but working behind a desk, consolidating and streamlining military instructional material down to a few pages of comic-strip panels – and here he learned how the combination of words and pictures can convey a lot of information in a small amount of time.
When he finished his service, Lee went back to Timely and spearheaded the publication of piles and piles of war, Western and romance comics – whatever was trendy at the time. It was a successful business, and it helped hone Lee’s writing chops, but after a while it became like dreary factory work. Meanwhile, Lee met and married a British hat model named Joan (“It was love at first sight,” he gushes); they had a daughter, and a second one tragically died days after being born; they’d stay together for 69 years, until Joan passed away. Back at the salt mines, Lee was prompted by his publisher to come up with a new superhero group to draft on the success of DC’s Justice League series. It was just the opportunity he was waiting for. He’d avoid telling people he wrote comic books because the work was considered pop-culture trash, but we all know he turned that notion around after he came up with the Fantastic Four in 1961. Beneath their superhuman exterior, these heroes were normal folks with problems that mirrored his and yours and mine. Unlike other comic superheroes, his creations weren’t just icons – they were characters first. The icon status would grow out of that relatability.
Lee handed the idea over to Kirby, who’d returned to Timely (now branded Atlas). Together, they put together a smashingly popular book that opened the door for other complex, down-to-earth heroes: the Hulk, Iron Man and, of course, the big one, Spider-Man. Lee’s publisher pooh-poohed Spider-Man at first, insisting that teenagers aren’t heroes, they’re sidekicks. So Lee took his story to artist Steve Ditko, and dropped it into the final issue of a comic called Amazing Fantasy. It sold like gangbusters. As Marvel cranked out comics through the ’60s and ’70s, Lee transitioned from writer and editor to publisher and company figurehead, talking up the qualities of his creations to whoever would listen – on TV talk shows, crosstalk news programs (one of which fascinatingly put him across from his ideological rival at DC), kiddie shows, the lecture circuit. He’d famously fall out with the reclusive Ditko and the more outspoken Kirby, fighting over whether the man with the idea or the man who drew the images was the true creator of these now-prototypical superheroes. Stan Lee may seem bigger than life, but he was also susceptible to being painfully human, it seems.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Gelb’s previous softball Disney+-exclusive doc was 2021 Wolfgang Puck bio Wolfgang, so take that tone and meld it with the geek-culture fodder of Kevin Smith biodoc Clerk.
Performance Worth Watching: Stan Lee pretty much made sure no one outshined Stan Lee, and Gelb continues that trend.
Memorable Dialogue: Lee shares the key secret to Marvel’s success: “Our superheroes are the kind of people who you or I would be if we had a superpower.”
Sex and Skin: None.
Our Take: The first hour of this 86-minute documentary is a dutiful, reasonably thorough bio bordering on hagiography – which is about what we should expect from a Disney-backed film that Disney no doubt made sure promoted a positive image of Disney properties, namely, that humble little endeavor known as the Marvel Cinematic Universe. To its credit, Stan Lee isn’t too heavily promotional until it gets extra-squishy at the end, but the subtext here is unavoidable: Without this guy, the most enormously successful film franchise in the history of forever wouldn’t exist! PRAISE HIM, FOR HE IS YOUR GOD NOW.
Those of us not tuned into all the ins and outs of Stan Lee’s origin will likely find Gelb’s blend of archival audio and video compelling; he wisely avoids enlisting celebs to proclaim their adoration for him, and features no talking heads outside the archival footage. Instead, he fills the visual gaps with little plasticine models in diorama-type office settings, a curious choice that’s unique, but doesn’t quite fit the overall aesthetic.
Thematically, there’s plenty of meat on the bone; it’s fascinating to hear Lee talk about his transition from cranking out forgettable genre fodder to creating characters of substance, from feeling ashamed about creating nothing of consequence to his eventual assertion that entertainment can function both as escape and spiritual enrichment. The film could use more rich nuggets like his anecdote about creating comics for the military, or how he once penned a storyline in which a broke Spider-Man tried and failed to cash a check made out to “Spider-Man” – ha! – proving that a Stan Lee creation has more in common with the readership than, say, DC’s alien strongmen or privileged billionaires.
The final third of the film is a disappointment, meager in its insights into Lee’s highly publicized disagreements with Kirby and Ditko; Lee’s sizable ego is present throughout the documentary, although it’s never directly addressed. It also takes a massive narrative leap from the ’70s to 2010, glossing over his many years of at-best tangential involvement with Marvel, and emphasizing the feelgood stuff stirred up by his many cameos in MCU films. Nobody will be surprised to learn that a Disney/Marvel documentary about Stan Lee isn’t particularly interested in the stuff outside Stan Lee’s Disney/Marvel life.
Our Call: Stan Lee is begging to be more thorough – a three-parter like Arnold maybe. But as it stands, it’s a serviceable work of fan service, and informative enough to warrant a modest recommendation. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.