Valérian is a classical hero, kind-hearted, strong and brave who follows the orders of his superiors even if he feels, deep down, that it is the wrong thing to do.
He'll use absurdly long hyphenated modifiers, as with this description of how the football players spoke to him: "in a very creepy Greek-chorus-in-a-tragedy-that-you-know-is-not-going-to-end-well-for-our-hero kind of way".
Laughton portrayed an unlikely hero: the kind, misunderstood, and pitiable hunchback Quasimodo, the bell ringer at Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris.
So, all along, he and we have been misled in trying him on as a hero, a kind of superman.
(It's the academic equivalent of a fairy-tale hero being kind to a dwarf and ending up with the princess and the pot of gold).
The filmmakers would like to make Pete a hero, a kind of extreme athlete of muckraking undercover investigations, but he doesn't have the charisma for it.
Granted, he does not have the air of a hero, the kind of man who could bend Nazis to his will by sheer force of personality.
She never described a murder and a death; instead, she'd evoke a fantastic transformation, one that turned a simple young man from one of the poorer quarters of Algiers into an invincible, long-awaited hero, a kind of savior.
Though he didn't get there quite in time, his progress, chronicled by the newspapers, enthralled a nation in need of some small fun, and he became an improbable American hero, a kind of Lindbergh of the corns and calluses.
Your argument is that Belfort is the monster, not the hero -- kind of like Meryl Streep in "August: Osage County".
Some are heroes, the kind of wealthy people we all aspire to be.
