I have a theory.
Out in the hills of Hollywood—or wherever they do casting for movies—there stands a shed. Inside this shed, there are several head shots of actors (established and rising) plastered on the walls like the wallpaper of some adolescent school girl. In the center of this shed, there is a turntable-like rise in the floor. Upon this rise, sits a chair. A random person, most likely an intern, is blindfolded and ushered to the chair where she is sat. She’s given a single dart. The others leave the room; the last one flips the switch, activating the turntable-like rise in the floor. The chair begins to spin, announcing its highest speed with a bing. Once the bing goes off, the intern must throw the dart and the head shot it lands on is the person chosen for the role being cast.
Maybe this idea doesn’t work for all movies—surely comedy and drama already have established, go-to actors—but with superhero flicks? This theory works so well when the big heads at Warner Bros. and Zack Synder thought Ben Afflect would make a spectacular Batman. Or that pencil-thin Gal Gadot is a stellar choice of an Amazonian princess. It explains Andrew Garfield, Jaime Foxx, the entire cast of the future Fantastic Four reboot, and Jessica Alba of the first two Fantastic Four films. And Snyder can defend all he wants, but history has proven that Ben behind a mask is a rape of comic book lore. And we already sacrificed Daredevil to that, why the dark knight after all Christopher Nolan worked to accomplish?
This all occurred to me as I sat beside Monica as we watched The Amazing Spider-Man 2 yesterday. I must warn you, this post will contain spoilers.