Author: Shirley Shani Ben Zvi CT, LAMFT, GTC
At first glance, Selling Superman seems like a documentary about comic books. Directed by award-winning filmmaker Adam Schomer, the four-part series—now available on Prime Video, Apple TV, and Google Play—follows Darren Watts as he sorts through his late father’s hidden comic book collection, an obsession that amassed over 300,000 issues, including a Superman #1 comic valued at over $3.5 million. But this is more than a collector’s story—it’s a deeply personal exploration of addiction, grief, and the complicated legacies we inherit.
In fact, it is the story of the ambiguous grief – the kind that psychologist Pauline Boss, labeled “Goodbye without leaving.” A grief that occurs when the person is present physically but not emotionally or mentally. While the story starts after Dale Watts, the father of the family, dies, Darren Watts – the center of the story – is not grieving his death per se. He is grieving the relationship he could have had with his dad, Dale, but did not. His father was so invested in collecting and hoarding comic books that he neglected his real family. What could have been a shared passion between father and son became a secret that overshadowed their relationship. Now, after Dale’s passing, Darren is left not just with an extraordinary collection but with the emotional weight of what it represents.
Darren’s younger brother, Adam Watts, carries his own grief. Adam, born with disabilities, was stuck at home, aiding their aging father but never being included in the world of comics that consumed their home. After their father’s passing, Adam would eventually have to stand by as Darren was in charge of going through it, grading it, and selling it, continuing the experience of lack of access and engagement with the collection. Adam’s grief not only includes mourning the relationship he did not have with Dale but also the one Darren did not form with him, leaving him behind as he went on to build a life.
However, there is a theme to this addiction that may also be the underlying theme of this story. The story that every superhero shares: identity, authenticity, and resilience. While Dale’s favorite superhero was Superman, Dale’s darkness resembled Batman. A man admired by those outside his home, lived a double life, much like Bruce Wayne. Outwardly, he was charming and intelligent, but behind closed doors, he was emotionally neglectful, hoarding comics while his family slipped away. Like Batman, who hides behind a mask and a fortress-like Batcave, Dale built a private world of comics that no one else could access. His obsession became his secret identity, and like Gotham’s vigilante, it consumed his life at the cost of personal relationships. The difference? Batman’s double life was a choice, while Dale’s was a compulsion—one that left his family in the shadows rather than protecting them.
Darren, however, reminds me of another member of the House of El: Kara, aka Supergirl. Like Kara, Darren understands that he needs his best friends, his chosen family, to team up with him as he attempts to break the silence and do something good. Like Kara, he grows up in fear of what would happen if the family secrets got out, and like her, he learns of the darkest sides of his family. Like Kara, the first response he gets for coming out with that collection is a cruel backlash. Yet, he forges on to find ways to do good with this massive collection and comes to inspire others with his story of hope and resilience. Like Kara, he finds a new home in the comic book community, and like her, he and his brother find ways to redefine their relationship after struggling during their younger years.
But perhaps my personal favorite resemblance is that he finds and forms continuing bonds with the father his father never was through the collection of stories Dale left behind. Darren never wanted to be famous or to have the power of owning a super-collection of rare comic books. Pain is what forces resilience upon us, and Dale’s fatherhood (or lack thereof) forced Darren to show resilience. At the end of the day, Superman would not be himself if not for the mask of Clark Kent’s ordinary life, Supergirl needed Kara Danvers to keep her grounded. At the end of the day, Darren, too, just wants to live a human life and balance it with his ownership and responsibility to his father’s comic-book legacy.
Selling Superman isn’t just a documentary about comic books. It’s a testament to the power of stories—both the ones we inherit and the ones we choose to write for ourselves.
Did you resonate with this story of ambiguous grief? If so, please share your thoughts in the comment section below! As always, we hope you will consider donating to support more documentary reviews like this!