GIVE-AND-TAKE VS. THE KILLING STROKE

Might is an ability that is superior to great obstacles. It is called dominance [Gewalt] if it is superior even to the resistance of something that itself possesses might.-- Kant, CRITIQUE OF JUDGMENT.

Plainly, Kant, in formulating his linked concepts of "might" and "dominance," is never as concerned as I am with sussing out the diverse ways in which two mighty forces may contend to produce the sense of dominance. And at present I now see two major archetypal tropes by which fiction creates the sense of dominance, though to be sure I'm not claiming that the two tropes, that of "give-and-take" and "the killing stroke," are necessarily the only ones.

"Give-and-take" refers to the sort of battles in which at least two entities, both possessed of some analogous level of might, come to blows in some manner as to show that both characters can "dish it out" as well as being able to "take it." In my 2015 essay COMBAT PLAY PT. 4, I correlated the ideal of an equally matched battle as one that depended on the ethic of fair play, whether or not the two fighters both subscribe to that ethic:

 ...the notion of "fair play" becomes important within the sphere of fiction and fantasy, possibly more important than it can ever be in the real world of political negotiation and compulsion. In my own lit-critic cosmos, the ideal of "fair play" assumes the role of "self-limitation" that is, in Nietzsche's philosophy, occupied by "self-overcoming."

In the COMBAT PLAY series I already used images from a Jack Kirby bout between Thor and Ulik, so for variety's sake, this time I'll illustrate with scenes from an analogous fight between THE NEW GODS' hero Orion and his evil half-brother Kalibak:

However, the second archetypal trope has less to do with evenly matched combat than with a character, possesses of some level of personal might, who finds a weakness in a mighty opponent's defenses. In my 2012 essay MIGHT VS. DOMINANCE, I pointed out that in the 1940 THIEF OF BAGDAD the climax is not one of direct contention:

There is no one-on-one combat as such between the principal heroes and the principal villain in THIEF, as usually takes place in related adventure-films.  Earlier sequences show Jaffar triumphing over the heroes with his magic with no real contest, but when Ahmad and Abu join in flouting his forces with the help of a flying carpet, Jaffar seems to run out of magic and flees, only to receive the same fate most villains get even when they do engage in combat.

In this case, Jaffar is struck down by an arrow, sent from a bow wielded by the film's hero Abu. Some dialogue suggests that the bow's bolts cannot miss when they're aimed at "injustice." In some instances, such as that of Neil Gaiman's protagonist in the novel NEVERWHERE, I've cited examples where a "killing stroke" is brought about by a magic weapon wielded by a subcombative character. However, Abu's combative credentials should prove beyond reproach for most viewers, given the manner in which he overcomes a gigantic spider in an earlier scene.

It may be of some interest that both combative tropes take place in Homer's ODYSSEY. During the imprisonment of Odysseus and his men in the cave of the Cyclops, it's made abundantly clear that even as a group the mortals are unable to battle Polyphemus directly. Thus they come up with a way to wound him that also allows them to escape the cave.

However, should any reader doubt the pugnacity of Odysseus, the epic concludes with the traveler returning to his island home Ithaca, where he, his son Telemachus, and a few other allies decimate the ranks of Penelope's unwanted suitors, who are initially unarmed but who, during the onslaught, do manage to acquire weapons and are able to put up a fight before being slain.

I'll note for the time being that most of the "monster-slaying" films I discussed in the essay WEAKLINGS WITH WEAPONS PT. 3 depended on the monsters being slain in Cyclops-fashion, by some human being who uncovers an Achilles Heel. That said, I usually don't view such works as combative unless they've first depicted some "give-and-take" in which the monster withstands the onslaughts of conventional human weapons.

MIGHT VS. DOMINANCE

As a prequel to further remarks on the subject of "the combative," I want to put forth some concrete examples of two of three qualities distinguished in this essay:

Dynamis= any kind of energy
Might= an energy which to some degree is "superior" to some unspecified lesser forces
Dominance= a superior energy which specifically arises from conflict

The MIGHT MAKES FIGHTS essay cited above already gave an example of "dynamis" in its character as generalized energy of any kind, said example being one of the least conflictive comics-pages I know, Harvey Pekar's "Making Lemonade."  So I need not repeat that here.

Leaving behind Pekar's isophenomenal cosmos, I step into the more inviting metaphenomenal world of
producer Alexander Korda's 1940 THIEF OF BAGDAD.

First, here's a scene leading up to the display of sublime "might" in the form of the old sultan (Miles Malleson), about to mount the horse he's been given by the evil Jaffar:

A few minutes later, here's the sultan finding out what the horse can do:

Now though the film as a whole builds a conflict between the wizard Jaffar and his two opponents Ahmad and Abu-- a conflict which leads to an overt combat-- the sultan's horse-riding sequence is subcombative.  Once during the sequence the sultan fears that his mount may crash them into a tower, but the dominant mood is one in which the sultan is pleasuably overcome by the particular "might" of the horse, which is its power to fly.  It would be no less possible for an isophenomenal film to picture a rider being enthralled by an ordinary horse's power to run, but clearly the affect would be different since the horse was merely doing something common to its species' nature.  Here, the mechanical horse inspires the sense of wonder/sublimity in that it's doing something ordinary horses cannot.  Going by the definition I provided above, the horse's energy is superior to that of the sultan, even though the two are not engaged in any form of combat; rather, the mechanical horse is displaying its fantastic power for the sultan's delectation.

Contrast this scene to the scene in which Abu first meets the towering genie of the lamp:

Seeing the scene out of context, one might imagine that it too might be subcombative.  But shortly later this takes place:

So in this sequence, we are dealing with something very like "dominance," although perhaps a qualified form, in that Abu vanquishes the genie by tricking him into re-entering his bottle:

There is no one-on-one combat as such between the principal heroes and the principal villain in THIEF, as usually takes place in related adventure-films.  Earlier sequences show Jaffar triumphing over the heroes with his magic with no real contest, but when Ahmad and Abu join in flouting his forces with the help of a flying carpet, Jaffar seems to run out of magic and flees, only to receive the same fate most villains get even when they do engage in combat.


Overall THIEF OF BAGDAD is a combative film, though it's easy to imagine any number of works on a similar theme that might not be.  The original story of ALADDIN AND HIS WONDERFUL LAMP would seem to be a subcombative form of adventure, in that there is no actual combat between Aladdin and his opponent the "Chinese Magician," nor does Aladdin fight any proxy servant of the Magician.  The conflict consists of either hero or villain swiping the lamp away from the other at this or that time, but never in a direct confrontation.  Therefore, while the idea of a mortal gaining control of a genie's illimitable power does constitute "might," it's harder to see "dominance," "a superior energy that arises specifically from conflict," in this scenario.  The traditional ALADDIN is initially characterized as the laziest kid in town, and there's a sense in which his persona in the story is closer to a comic type, even though the original ALADDIN, unlike the Disney version (which steals a lot from Korda's THIEF), is not dominantly comic in tone.

In a related vein, in my review of the 1922 SHERLOCK HOLMES, I noted how the potentially adventurous conflict between Holmes and Prof. Moriarty had been so de-emphasized that I labeled the film a "drama" rather than an adventure:

though the film strains to depict the clash of Holmes and Moriarty in Biblical terms, their personalities are too thinly drawn to sustain the hero-villain myth Doyle created.

In contrast to this, I do regard 1939's ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES as an invigorating adventure, for all that it's partly based on the same stage-play as the 1922 SHERLOCK HOLMES:

ADVENTURES presents a Holmes who fights and shoots like a pulp hero. To be sure, this Holmes is still much more restrained than the modern Robert Downey Jr. incarnation. But the epic combat of Holmes and Moriarty is played for all its worth here, rather than being “seen” via indirect means as in Doyle’s “Final Problem,” or reduced to a crime-melodrama as in the 1922 silent film.

The 1922 film is not unlike the example of Aladdin: it might be said to possess "might" in that Holmes and Moriarty remain incarnations of "good" and "evil" in a generalized sense, though their conflict is subcombative by reason of its lack of vigor.  ADVENTURES does play the combat of good and evil for all it's worth, though, so the triumph of Holmes gives him the quality of "dominance" in the above sense.

These matters will tie together when I re-examine the Kantian concepts of "might" and "dominance" in line with my own earlier categories of "spectacular and functional violence," to which I alluded in the essay preceding this one.