Pulp & Popcorn Presents

A Drew McWeeny Review

Avengers: Endgame
dir. Joe and Anthony Russo
scr. Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely
based on the Marvel Comics characters

It was early 2000, and the conference room at the old Artisan offices was
like a hundred other conference rooms in LA. They all tend to blur together
after a while, especially when companies move in and out of the same spaces.
What stands out in the memory are the faces in those rooms, and that
afternoon, I remember sitting across from Kevin Feige and Avi Arad.

There were other people there, I’m sure. After all, Marvel was nothing at
that point. The company was considered a joke. There was no real value to
their catalog, which had been cut up and scattered over the years, and which
they were just starting to put back together under one metaphorical roof.
Artisan was flush with the money they’d earned around the world with their
unexpected megasmash The Blair Witch Project, and they were looking to
become more of a mini-studio. It was an interesting moment industry-wide as
there were a number of players that were in contention to become the next
mini-major. New Line was rolling the dice on Lord of the Rings, and no one
knew yet if they were crazy or brilliant.

There was something in the air. The business was in love with the
freedom of the indie-driven ‘90s but chasing the high-concept purity of the
‘80s. We’d just wrapped up one of the best film years in a while and a whole
fistful of young filmmakers seemed to be coming into their own as new lions,
major emerging voices, even as the big ticket franchise world struggled to
claim some oxygen around the juggernaut that was Star Wars. Artisan made a
deal with Marvel for fifteen of their properties, looking at some of them as TV
properties and some of them as possible film franchises. Artisan certainly
wasn’t the only studio thinking about how to bring these characters to life.
Sony was starting to get Spider-Man up on his feet, and both New Line and
Paramount had been wrestling with Iron Man for a while. X-Men was a troubled
production, and while the film was on its way to theaters, the early buzz was
bad and the studio was shit-talking it behind the filmmaker’s backs to anyone
who would listen. It felt like no one had cracked the code yet, and when my
writing partner and I got the call about going into Artisan for a meeting, our
managers and agent were skeptical about any of the projects actually getting
made.

At that point, they were thinking about Captain America as a movie and
Thor as a TV show, and they also owned Black Panther, Iron Fist, Morbius,
Longshot, Power Pack, Mort the Dead Teenager, Ant-Man, and the character
we went in to pitch, Deadpool. We had our take, but before we began, we
listened to Marvel describe their overall vision for where their company was
going, and that’s the first time I heard Kevin Feige call his shot. “We’re going
to get them all back sooner or later. And when we do, we’re going to build the
universe that I always loved… a place where these characters all exist, and they
can all interact.” He was frustrated by the way they’d chopped up the rights to
the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, the Sub-Mariner, and the Hulk. Blade was
working at New Line, on a certain scale, and that was the most likely model for
anything Artisan might produce. But even at that point, Feige wanted more.
Arad always talked about it all like a businessman, talking about all the toys
they needed to be able to make for each film. That’s how he came to the
company, though. That’s how he was programmed. You can’t fault Avi Arad for
being Avi Arad. He was a guy who ran a toy company. Of course the toys were
the point. And Avi Arad represented business as usual. I had met many Avi
Arads by that point, and didn’t hold it against them. They signed the checks.
They ran things.

Feige was different. Feige came up through the development side of

things, working as an assistant to Lauren Shuler Donner. That was a perfect fit,
and it brought him in contact with X-Men, which brought him in contact with
Avi. That was nineteen years ago. And now, twenty-two films later, we’re here
to talk about Avengers: Endgame, which means two things: we are going to speak
in spoilers (although I’ll warn you before we start), because there is no other
way to genuinely talk about the film, and we are going to speak about all
twenty-two of those films, because there is no other way to genuinely talk
about the film. And when we talk of all these things, we will talk about the
various collaborators who have helped bring it all to life, and we will
acknowledge what every person brought to the table, but we will also be
speaking about this as one overall artistic statement, and the author of that
statement, as much as you can assign one, is Kevin Feige. This is the single
most impressive work of producer-as-artist that I’ve seen in modern
Hollywood, and deserves to be examined through that prism. There are things
that happen onscreen in Endgame that seem impossible to me as someone who
grew up soaking in Marvel comics. I can’t believe I saw what I saw, but I know
that the only reason I saw it is because of that guy who I sat across from in
that conference room and his absolute confidence that he could make it
happen.

It’s no accident that he went to USC. It’s pretty apparent which altars he
worshipped at as a young fan. Lucas. Zemeckis. Spielberg. Howard. Kevin
Feige was shaped profoundly by the filmmaking voice of the ‘80s, and made no
bones about the idea that he wanted to use cutting-edge film tech to make
‘80s-style movies about what he considered the greatest stable of characters
ever created. There is a stubbornly engineered quality to the overall experience
of watching all of the Marvel Studios movies, but what makes the
accomplishment so impressive is the way miracles happen throughout even the
most formulaic moments, and the way Feige steered into those miracles is
what defines him. He was smart enough to know when things were working
and limber enough to change when they weren’t. The moment he really locked
in on the best possible version of things, the series really took off, and the back
half of this mega-franchise which we’ve all taken to calling The Marvel
Cinematic Universe (which sounds like something 14-year-old Kevin Feige wrote
on the piece of tape he slapped across his Trapper Keeper) is as confident a run
of franchise films as we’ve ever seen.

Is it fair to call this all one big story? And if so, knowing full well that
Disney plans to milk this particular magic cow till the udders fall off, can this
one big story ever truly have an ending? How do you judge a thing like
Avengers: Endgame, which is both unlike anything that’s been made and very
much like twenty-one other things that this company has already made?

We’re going to take this one in stages. We’re going to go back to the start
and we’re going to talk about everything right down to that weird sound effect
cue that plays over the final Marvel Studios logo. And we’re going to put it all
to bed… because after this?

I’m not writing about these movies again.

 1. He Really Is Iron Man

One of the reasons I don’t take seriously anyone who talks about Marvel
as if it is a foregone conclusion is because of how big a risk that first step really
was. Robert Downey Jr. has become successful enough and beloved enough to
now be considered monolithic, but it was a huge roll of the dice to build the
first step of what was supposed to be a huge undertaking on the back of an
actor who had, to say the least, a turbulent reputation.

If you actually knew Robert, then by this point, you also knew Susan
Downey, and if you met the two of them together, then you understood that
something significant had changed for this brilliant but troubled performer. He
had finally found that center that had always been missing, that piece that kept
him from spinning out of control and self-immolating time and again. He had
finally found a way to make the work the drug, the joy of creation the high that
he chased. And it was infectious to be around. The filmmakers who did take
“the risk” ended up having amazing experiences with him. When he was cast as
Tony Stark, it was after a protracted experience with Tom Cruise helping to
steer Iron Man development. Marvel was frustrated and looking for someone
who could support not just one movie but this entire insane plan of theirs.
Downey had just made Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and whatever it was that made them
gamble, god bless them for it. The difference between what might have been
with Cruise and what we got with Downey is the difference between us writing
about Avengers: Endgame this year and us writing the fourteenth variation on
our semi-annual “When is Hollywood going to figure out superheroes?” article.
Cruise might have made a serviceable action film, but Robert Downey Jr.
became the character instantly. As soon as audiences saw the film, he owned
the role and, more importantly, they were ready to follow him anywhere. It’s
the difference between Hollywood making the Stallone version of Beverly Hi"s
Cop or making the Eddie Murphy version. It was a perfect combination of the
right actor, the right role, and the right moment.

All of this went down during the heyday of Ain’t It Cool and the rise of
HitFix, and I can’t think of these films without thinking of my experiences
around them. In the early days, everyone was so giddy about what they were
trying that there were major leaks, and I certainly printed and profited off of
my fair share of them. I remember getting a phone call one afternoon late in
the production of Iron Man, which I’d been covering pretty extensively. I was
getting a good feeling about what we were hearing, even though Marvel was
definitely keeping their distance. I wasn’t invited to any official press activities
during production, so whatever info I was getting was from unofficial on-set
sources. And that particular day, I got a doozy. It was someone who I knew,
someone who was in position to know what they were talking about, and they
were definitely in a talkative mood. “Guess what’s happening right now… as we
speak.”

“What?”

“Nick Fury is inviting Tony Stark to join the Avengers.”

“… what?!”

“And if you wanna see what Nick Fury looks like, check out The
Ultimates.”

Boom. Gone. We ran the story as it was happening. It was too big a story
not to run. As soon as I heard him say it, I flashed back to Feige in that
conference room and him calling the shot. We’re going to get them a" back. Even at
his most optimistic, I’m not sure Kevin Feige could have imagined how well
things would work out. They put Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, The
Incredible Hulk, and The Avengers into development at roughly the same
time. They knew they wanted to get to that finish line, but they weren’t sure
they could make it happen. It was all a question of faith, and of trying to
maintain a clarity of vision across several different franchises at once. They’ve
made wrong steps along the way, but the important steps were the ones they
got right, and they got enough of them right that it almost feels like a miracle.

First and foremost, let’s be clear: Tony Stark is the lead character in The
MCU. No question about it. It is a canny choice, an accidental choice, but in
the end, the only choice that could have gotten them here. The Marvel house
style has always been about finding the recognizably human in the wildly
fantastic. That’s what made me fall in love with Marvel as a kid. Seeing Peter
Parker struggle with his homework and his chores at home while also handling
business as Spider-Man was revelatory. It allowed me to lose myself in the
fantasy completely, and it also allowed them to tell stories with real human
stakes. Tony Stark is not a superhero in the sense that he’s got actual
superpowers. Instead, he’s a deeply flawed human being who goes through
something that should kill him, but which actually changes him. It awakens a
sense of responsibility and conscience in him, and he starts to wonder if there’s
a way he can make the world better. These 22 films are one long story about
him, his attempt, and what it ultimately accomplishes and costs.

There are so many other characters who are key to this journey that it
can be easy to lose track of where it all begins. When you see Avengers:
Endgame, and you stay in your seat all the way through all eleven or so minutes
of credits at the end of a three-hour film because you’ve been conditioned to
do so at this point, listen to the final sounds over the final logo. It’s metal on
metal, just a few quick notes of it, but it’s significant. It’s the sound of Tony
Stark building his Iron Man suit, the one that saved his life and got him out of
that cave. It is the sound of an entire universe of stories being forged. It is the
sound of the Marvel Universe beginning, and now, it is the punctuation mark at
the end of that story. It is appropriate. It is significant.

Also significant… there are no closing-credits scenes on the film. It

wouldn’t make sense, not after everything you see. But audiences are going to
stay pinned to those seats anyway. It’s amazing. It’s this Pavlovian thing that
Marvel’s instilled in audiences, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen any piece of pop
culture train its audience so effectively.

I’m reaching a point in my life where I’m not only aware of just how
many stories there are about the redemption of crappy white guys, but I’m also
weary at the idea that it’s never going to end. One of the most important parts
of any narrative is figuring out the viewpoint with which the story is being told.
Who tells it is as important as what they tell, and it reveals everything about
intent. We see these stories over and over because these are the people who are
centered in our culture. Tony Stark is, like it or not, the man of our times.
Marvel didn’t even realize how perfect a creation he was for the moment
because it took a little time for the moment to catch up. He’s got this
unflappable arrogance in the first film that is sort of charming and sort of
disgusting at the same time, and when he gets injured in the desert and almost
killed, it’s the first time he sees himself as human. It’s a strong thematic idea
that the first hero we’re introduced to in the Marvel universe is a warmonger, a
maker of weapons with no real moral compass, and until he learns to see
himself as an actual vulnerable human, he’s the furthest thing from a hero
possible.

Even with the first film having a great deal of attitude and some great fun
effects sequences, it’s really not until the film’s final moments that it staked out
brave new territory for itself in terms of storytelling. Having Tony Stark
flippantly announce that he is, in fact, Iron Man was a huge shift from the
status quo in these kinds of films. It was an announcement that they weren’t
just telling the same exact stories we’d already seen, and that even if we knew
the source material, that didn’t mean we knew what was coming. It was also
interesting because it set up just how impulsive Tony was. He may be a genius,
but he has serious impulse control issues, and those have haunted him
throughout the entire series. Tony gets an idea and he pursues that idea to the
exclusion of everything else. It’s a very American attribute. He is, in so many
ways, emblematic of who we are. I think that’s why it was so brilliant to cast
Downey. We are the nation of fifteenth chances. We will rehabilitate anyone as
long as they entertain us, and Tony Stark has consistently been entertaining,
even at his lowest points. That motor-mouthed need to constantly narrate his
own life is one of his trademarks, and again, it served as a great way to make
the Marvel universe feel real. If you’ve got a character who is constantly
pointing out the absurdity of things and taking the piss out of the world
around him, it’s hard to get too upset about the absurdity or the world. He
buys you all kinds of permission.

I’m glad Marvel never did a strict adaptation of “Demon In A Bottle,”

the run of comics where Tony’s alcoholism really got the best of him. While
Downey could no doubt play the shit out of that, I don’t know that the dangers
of addiction really serve anything thematically in this version of the story. It
was smarter of them to give Tony a case of nearly-crippling PTSD after the
Battle of New York, seeding that through everything afterwards. It’s been a
terrific motor for him as a character, and an understandable one. After all, this
is a guy who went through a hole in space and time. That will change you. So
often in movies like this, some paradigm-shifting event happens that would re-
order reality as we understand it, and characters shrug it off like someone got a
new haircut.

One of the greatest joys of Endgame is seeing how they handle Tony’s arc
here. Since that moment in the first Avengers when he glimpsed a larger
universe than he previously believed existed, he has been deeply rattled. Now,
finally, his worst fears have come true. The opening moments of Endgame deal
with Tony and Nebula, lost deep in space, as he comes to terms with his own
mortality. He has to accept that he is a dead man, and in doing so, he finally
has to admit that he cannot think his way out of everything. The Tony who
does actually make it to Earth is broken, hollowed out, and deeply, deeply
afraid. I was pretty sure as soon as Pepper and Tony had their first
conversation in Infinity War that we’d be meeting a little Stark in this film, and
sure enough. What makes me happiest about the way they follow that story
thread is that they didn’t turn it into an opportunity to break Tony’s heart
again. I was dreading the idea that he’d have to make the decision to sacrifice
this fragile happiness to turn back time for everyone else, leaving him with the
memory of his daughter but no actual family. Instead, the film steers into the
idea of this as a real ending, and the sacrifice that Tony makes is no less
wrenching for the audience, but it feels earned in a different way.

Yes, it’s true. And it’s still hard to believe. But Marvel killed Tony Stark.
And in doing so, they threw the focus clearly onto him as the ultimate star of
this first movie. The guy who spends his last moments in the arms of Pepper
Potts is not the guy who went and toured that war zone in the first film. The
idea that he eventually learned to put the world ahead of himself is not the big
idea or the big change, although that’s amazing. It’s something much more
profound. Tony lets go of everything, and in doing so, becomes complete.
When he gets his second chance on his return to Earth, he leans into it for all
he’s worth. I love all of the scenes involving Tony and his daughter Morgan. I
love them 3000. I think it captures exactly what makes parenting such a
magical experience, that feeling of watching someone take focus and knowing
that you’re part of that. Tony’s delight in everything about Morgan is palpable,
and he only agrees to be part of the time heist (a phrase I love) once he’s sure
he’s figured out a way to fix things without erasing what he’s gained. Tony’s
sacrifice at the end is the exact opposite of what I feared for him. I thought he
would have to give up some piece of himself to save everyone else. Instead,
Tony does what he does and willingly dies because he knows that he leaves
behind the best piece of himself. There’s no fear. There’s no ego. There’s no
worry. Pepper will endure. Morgan will endure. Happy will get her some
cheeseburgers. And everyone who he came in contact with will endure and
even flourish because of him.
 I have a prediction based on that final scene with the hologram of Tony.
I think Downey’s going to hang around the Marvel Universe in voice-over
form. Jarvis got folded into the Vision, who was destroyed, and while it’s
certainly funny to have Jennifer Connelly step in for Spider-Man: Homecoming as
the new voice of Stark Industries, replacing Paul Bettany and making them the
first couple I can think of to both play the same basic role for Marvel, I don’t
think she’s hanging around. My prediction is that Tony will become the new
Jarvis for these films, a computer-generated version of Stark that can still break
off great one-liners and throw a little charisma at these movies from time to
time. Downey can come in and work a few days on each film. He’s like the new
Stan Lee cameo now that Stan Lee’s gone. It makes story sense, too. The legacy
that Tony Stark would have left behind if he’d died in the desert in the first
Iron Man would have been one of death and horror, his name printed on
weapons around the world and even the bullets fired into the bodies of
innocents everywhere; the legacy that this new Tony leaves behind is one in
which we live in a larger universe, connected to alien cultures, and in which we
are safe because he created a huge network of heroes, all of them bound by
everything they’ve gone through. He always put his name on things, some piece
of him into what he built, and it would make perfect sense that he leave behind
a digital ghost in the machine.

Tony got off-track during the middle of these movies, retreating into fear
and talking about building a shield around the world, and the anger he releases
at Captain America in their first big scene together in Endgame is legitimately
earned. Tony’s been afraid of exactly what happened for years, and then it came
true, and he was powerless. There are few things more terrifying in the Marvel
universe. Tony may not be a superhero in a technical sense, but once he straps
on that suit he is, and it’s pretty clear by this point in the story that Tony’s
brain is the real weapon. He’s come up with so many variations and gadgets and
tweaks and tricks that it’s hard to know where the suit stops and where he
begins. But the emphasis in this film, with each of the main characters, is on
the human heart of what drives them, and there’s no scene more important for
Tony in this film than his encounter with Howard Stark in the past. I was
genuinely surprised by how many peripheral players they got back for this film,
and seeing John Slattery show up once last time as Howard Stark would have
been fun even if he didn’t do much. Instead, the Russos and Markus and
McFeely take the opportunity to turn the scene into a much-needed puzzle
piece that completes Tony. He didn’t even know he needed the encounter, but
it’s clear how much it means to him, and it’s a beautiful fantasy for any of us.
The idea that you would be able to meet your father as a younger man and
learn that his love for you was blinding and pure and real, no matter what your
later disappointments in life, is a deeply healing thing. Tony’s spent much of
this series damaged because of what he sees as his own flaws and the flaws that
he inherited, and part of the reason he is so strong, emotionally speaking, at
the end of this movie is because of this moment, because of these truths that
he carries with him now. We suspect what our parents think of us, but it’s a
rare thing to be able to see and hear that love demonstrated in such unguarded
fashion.

I can’t help but think about what might have changed if they had made
this movie with Tom Cruise instead of Downey. I can’t imagine any of what we
got built on Cruise, and part of that is because I rarely get the sense that he is
genuinely sharing the screen with anyone. With Downey, part of the pleasure
of watching these 22 chapters of the story unfold has been watching the way
he’s greeted each expansion of things. I remember in 2014, when Guardians of
the Galaxy came out, writing about how excited I was for the inevitable
moment in which Tony Stark would come face to face with a smart-ass raccoon
who is, very possibly, smarter than him, and I was not disappointed. Cruise
may have fun with the supporting players in the Mission: Impossible movies, but
there’s no doubt, they are the supporting players. Part of what’s been so
impressive about the way Tony Stark’s changed over the course of the films is
that he’s not only learned he has a heart, but that there’s room in it for so many
truly weird as shit individuals.

So many of the dynamics that have defined the Marvel universe came
from bouncing characters and situations off of Tony Stark, and in many ways,
his reactions have defined the ways the audiences have reacted. There’s no
better example of that than the way Marvel folded Spider-Man into their
movies. They took something that was a weird awkward legal issue and they
turned it into a terrific creative opportunity, making Tony into Peter Parker’s
mentor and his usher into the world of superheroes. It helps that Tom Holland
and Robert Downey Jr. have ridiculous, off-the-charts chemistry in scenes
together, and both of the death scenes in Infinity War and Endgame were nearly
perfectly played by Holland and Downey together. Holland’s so good at that
instant shaky emotional thing, and I get the feeling Downey really does care
about this kid. Downey’s seen it all as an actor. He’s been through everything.
He knows how good the ride can be and how bad it can get, and knowing what
I know about Holland in real life, he seems to inspire that same protective
quality in the adults that have worked with him. Downey’s an advertisement
for redemption, sure, but even more now, he can help advocate for not making
those same mistakes in the first place.

I know it’s weird to mention real life, but I can’t help but have strange
blurred feelings about the first phase of these movies. I think some of the best
reporting and coverage I’ve ever done was from that era, and it’s when I was
moving from Ain’t It Cool to HitFix, trying to establish a different way to do
the job that I was doing. There are a million little memories of conversations I
had with people who were skeptical about the entire idea, as well as the people
who were dedicated to making it happen, and during that first and second film,
Robert Downey Jr. was unusually available. It helped that I had spent some
time on the set of the first Sherlock Holmes, just me and him, and I had been
able to establish a track record of writing about him with respect and with a
focus on his craft. I can’t even imagine being as written about as he has been
over the years, so much of it tabloid writing focused on his worst years and his
lowest moments. It must be demoralizing and dehumanizing, but something
fascinating happened the moment that first Iron Man opened; the past fell
away, and Downey found his joy. And that joy has been the thing that has
carried front and center through not just the work but the way he has
embraced his fame.

For me, it will always come back to a moment backstage at the Comic-
Con where the showed the first footage for Iron Man 2, a moment that had
almost nothing to do with me directly. Paramount was still distributing the
films at that point, and they were handling the panel. I was working, but my
family wanted to come down and see what was going on. My wife had fallen
head over heels for the first movie, surprising herself even more than me, and
Toshi hadn’t seen anything besides trailers, but the toys and the trailers were
enough to get the hooks in. They didn’t have badges for the convention, but
my friend Tamar was in charge of the Paramount panel, and she told me she’d
arrange guest passes for them. In order to use those, they had to go through
the backstage area, and they were walked out with the other Paramount guests
to sit in the very front, right next to the stage. That would have been thrilling
enough for them, and it was very much like a rock concert. Downey was newly
minted as the center of this universe, and that first footage was all about
attitude. He made a triumphant entrance through the crowd. He had the
charm turned up to 200. It was big and flashy and ridiculous.

Afterwards, Paramount herded all of the guests backstage again, and my

wife and Toshi were told to sit in a specific area so Tamar could come get me
and then we could leave together. As they were sitting there, the crowd parted,
and suddenly Downey was there, standing with one other person, about a foot
from where they were seated.

Toshi looked up, spotted him, and cried out, “Iron Man!”

Now, this is the middle of a giant press event. Downey doesn’t know this
kid, doesn’t know who this kid is, and he’s just come offstage where he already
gave full energy to that giant crowd.

But instead of giving him a quick and easy brush-off, Downey looked
around, as if surprised, and walked over to sit down next to Toshi. “Shhhh.
Keep that quiet. Not everyone knows that.”

My wife went into shock, but somehow had the wherewithal to raise her
camera and start recording. That’s the only reason I know most of this. I
watched the video and saw the pictures she took after the fact. At the time, it
was just Toshi and Downey, though, sitting there chatting like old friends. Or I
should say Tony, because that’s what Toshi kept calling him, totally accepting
that this was the character sitting there talking to him, and Tony didn’t correct
him. They talked about flying. They talked about blowing things up. Toshi
asked him if it hurt to get punched in the armor. He asked him how he went to
the bathroom in it. And Tony answered every question as Tony Stark.

Finally, he smiled and said, “Okay, I’m going to have to go now. There’s
an emergency, and I’ve got to help out.” Toshi high-fived him repeatedly as he
stood up to go, and Tony Stark gave him his million-dollar special smile. “After
all… I am Iron Man.”

Yes, you are, and you always well be. No one has owned a role this
completely in the modern-era, and it’s unlikely anyone will. Rest easy, Mr.
Stark.
 2. Thor Thubjects

“It’ll never work.”

I was sitting in my car at the parking garage by the Downey Studios

facility where Marvel was shooting Thor, and I was on the phone with Greg
Ellwood. He was debriefing me after I spent the day on the set, and he was
openly skeptical no matter what I said to him.

That was not an uncommon dynamic for us at HitFix. Greg started from
a position of “prove it,” while I tended to believe in filmmakers, and when they
would explain their ambitions for something, I would try to give them the
benefit of the doubt. I always said that the set visit or the interview was a
chance for the filmmaker to tell me what they thought they were making, and
the review was a chance for me to tell them if I agreed. It was clear that Marvel
knew it was a risk to jump from the more grounded to the more fantastic, and
they were a little nervous about what they saw as their biggest swing so far.
They were also dealing with brand-new territory in terms of breaking this
character through to the mainstream. It seems wild now to think about just
how terrifying it was for them, because they occupy such a huge piece of pop
culture real estate now. They were nervous because they had to introduce the
idea of “magic” into the Marvel universe, and they were very careful on-set to
over-explain it to us.

“It’s science, but it’s Asgardian science, so it appears to be magic to us,

but they’re from outer space, so it’s advanced science, so they’re like gods, but
they’re not really gods, but they’re sort of like it.”

That set visit was still an early example of the theme-park experience
studios have perfected now where they fly in a small army of people to walk
through a carefully curated version of an on-set encounter, all of them
publishing the exact same stories at the exact same time at the marching
orders of the studio in exchange for the kind of access that keeps the lights on.
Marvel wanted to open the doors, but they were still trying to figure out
exactly how to do that while still keeping the secrets they wanted to keep, and
they had some rough moments. They were shooting the early scenes with Thor
and the Warriors Three against the Frost Giants, and they had the small group
of journalists they’d assembled sitting in video village at one end of the stage.
 As they prepared to do a take, Kenneth Branagh asked for some pre-viz
to be brought up on his monitor. Marvel didn’t realize they had the monitors
turned on for us as well, though, and they not only brought up the pre-viz
where we could see it, they proceeded to fast-forward play the first twenty
minutes of the film for us, unaware they were doing it.

After that happened, they were all on edge, and then I exacerbated
things with a question. I had my sources at Marvel who were whispering things
to me, and I had one particular question I wanted to ask at the right moment
so I could watch the reaction. When they introduced us to Tom Hiddleston, an
unknown to the majority of the people in the room, I saw my chance.

The producers and the publicists were hovering a bit, but they figured
they were safe since no one knew anything about the film and no one knew
Hiddleston at all. They walked away so they could talk as we all chatted with
him, recorders running. I finally saw the perfect window and casually said, “Is
it exciting doing this film knowing already that you’re going to be back as the
bad guy in The Avengers, and does that inform the way you’re playing him now?”

Hiddleston didn’t even blink. “It does, actually, because I know that in
that one, I’m going to really get to go full rock-star evil. I want to give myself
somewhere to go…”

Now, the way I remember it was Kevin Feige actually throwing a flying
tackle to get Hiddleston down and to quiet him, but I’m sure it wasn’t that
violent an interruption. They most assuredly broke us up the moment they
heard me say Avengers, though, and I saw every producer and publicist do a
whip-turn and a gasp at the same time. They hustled Hiddleston away from us
and had a quick whisper-yell huddled conference, after which they led him
back over, looking a little sheepish.

“As it happens, I may not actually be the bad guy in The Avengers. Things
change.”

It got a laugh, but they were seriously on-edge for the rest of the day.
They were trying to keep the focus on this one film, and they knew that if the
audience didn’t like Thor or Captain America, then the prospect of an Avengers
movie wouldn’t really make sense. They were already having nervous internal
conversations about their Hulk problems (and more on that in a later section),
and they didn’t want to screw up these next introductions. When you look at
the first film now, you can see the fear in so many of the choices they made. It’s
such a tiny movie. The big action finale takes place in a town that appears to be
two blocks and a 7-11. Audiences have seen enough films at this point to know
that when you introduce a fantastic alternate world full of wild characters that
require effects and make-up and then you immediately move to Earth for most
of the film, you’re doing that because of money. It was the most overtly comic
of the first handful of movies, with Kat Dennings getting a lion’s share of the
joke lines. Thor felt like a studio struggling to figure out how closely they would
hew to the traditional approach to the character, but it got just enough of it
right to work.

With Thor: The Dark World, Marvel made a choice that made sense on
the surface. Alan Taylor was white-hot at that moment because of Game of
Thrones, and asking him to translate his work on that show into the Marvel
Universe is the kind of thing that makes mathematical sense. But movies aren’t
math, and Alan Taylor, as it turns out, is at his best when he’s following a
template, not when he’s reinventing one. It’s clear that they figured out that
Tom Hiddleston was a huge asset, but they lost focus of just how to make use
of Hemsworth for both this film and for Avengers: Age of Ultron. He’s not bad in
either film, but Thor feels like he’s stuck in neutral. Think back to when we
first saw Hemsworth in a big movie. It was Star Trek, in that incredible opening
scene where he was Kirk’s dad. In that one sequence, he manages to be funny
and touching and heroic all within about eight minutes. It’s a star-making
performance, but it’s not necessarily there on the page. Hemsworth invested
that screen time with every bit of emotional heft he could muster, and he
deserved to jump immediately to the foreground. He’s very good in every
single appearance he’s made in The MCU so far, but there’s a difference
between him being good and the film making proper use of him. It’s one of the
weird things about movie star charisma… even in films that don’t really know
what to do with it, it can still carry the day.

I was at the junket for Age of Ultron, and by that point, I’d become
familiar enough to the various Marvel players that they occasionally forgot to
be discrete around me. I was sitting in a hallway waiting to talk to Evans and
Hemsworth, who were paired, and they were taking a break. Hemsworth came
walking back up to the door, and Kevin Feige met him there. Feige was holding
a script, the cover turned in towards him, and Hemsworth nodded at it. “Did
you read it?”

“I did.”

Hemsworth didn’t wait for Feige’s reaction. He just jumped in. “It’s not
bad, but it’s not great. We have to make this one great. If we’re going to call it
Ragnarok, we need to tell a story that delivers on that.”

Feige nodded as he answered. “I know. We’re close. We’ve got the

structure. But you’re right. It’s got to…” That was when he realized who was
sitting across from them, and he gave me a smile and indicated to Hemsworth
that they should continue the conversation away from an audience. It was clear
that Hemsworth was involved in the choices that eventually led to Taika
Waititi as director and the absolutely delightful left turn that was Ragnarok. If
you go back and look at the pieces I wrote in the wake of Age of Ultron, I knew
they were planning to send Hulk into space, and that they were planning to
have him cross paths with Thor in some version of the Planet Hulk storyline.
When I reported that at the time, Marvel was irritated with me and vocally
denied all of it. It was a frustrating choice on their part. The way they actually
pulled it together was a really lovely surprise, and I think it’s the first of the
three films to give Hemsworth a truly worthy showcase for everything he
brings to the table.

He’s a nimble comic actor, and much of his funniest stuff in Ghostbusters
was the result of improv jams opposite comedy actors who have built careers
on how nimble they are. He’s inventively funny, and yet the moments that
always land for me are the sincere moments where he’s playing the truth of a
1000-year-old super-powerful being who constantly wrestles with feelings
about whether or not he’s good enough, whether or not he is truly living up to
the challenge of being Thor. So much of who he is in these movies is defined by
the experiences he’s had since coming into contact with Midgard for the first
time. Before that, he was sort of this big dumb wrecking ball adventuring his
way around the Nine Realms. He was his dad’s blunt instrument, and little else.
Then he met Jane Foster, and it started a radical perception shift for him. Even
though these films throw around the term “god” a lot, they’ve still only hinted
at what that really means, and it feels like they’ve just started to really write to
his full capabilities. As a result, the Thor that we’re seeing in these movies isn’t
really the Thor we met at the start of the series, and not because of organic
growth. The most lost they’ve ever been was during Age of Ultron, when Thor
was blasted by the Scarlet Witch and sent into his vision of a dead Asgard.
There are a few flashes in there of what looks like the Infinity Gauntlet, but
rendered almost as an abstract. They knew where they eventually wanted to
get him, but there was no grace in the way they tried to get him there.

What has always been consistent, though, is this confidence, this sense
that he was more than equal to whatever task was thrown his way. Thor’s never
been worried about whether he was strong enough to do something. What’s
become particularly satisfying over the course of Ragnarok, Infinity War, and
Endgame, though, has been watching the way they broke the character right
down the middle in order to build something better. When the moment came
and he had to save Asgard? He failed. And when the next moment came and he
tried to save his brother’s life? He failed again. And finally, when given the
chance to stop Thanos before the snap? He failed once more. The decision to
pick up with Thor in this film as a bloated, bitter, scared man worked for me,
and for more personal reasons than I expected.

You really want to know how the last few years have been? Just look at
me. I wear my stresses and my failures around my midsection like a belt. I am
in the worst physical shape of my life and it’s closely tied to the feeling that
much of my life is a shambles. I was recently rocked by another creative
setback, this one feeling like a larger-than-normal failure, and really didn’t have
any idea for how I might pick up and carry on. There’s a point at which the
sheer weight of all the scar tissue is overwhelming. Fat Thor, as he’s been so
lovingly dubbed even by the people who seem most offended by the portrayal,
is an external expression of everything Thor’s grappling with, and I thought it
was an interesting choice. If they found a way to magically wave Thor’s gut
away by the end of the film, I would have been irritated by the storyline, but
this is a permanently different Thor, and there is no sudden fix. He is haunted
by his failures now, and defined by them, and he doesn’t see any way to fix that.
Even once he’s given opportunities to do something, there’s a self-destructive
anger underneath it all that undermines him. Thor is ready to die in this film,
something we haven’t seen from him before. He doesn’t really care if he lives
now, and even after the big battle at the end, even after he is redeemed, there’s
a hole in him that can’t be easily fixed. There’s a moment on Asgard when he
realizes he can rescue Mjolnir from the timeline and use it again, and it’s
played as a bit of a joke at first. But like much of what they do with Fat Thor,
the moment that hammer hits home and he lights up, tears in his eyes, I found
myself moved. His joy at realizing that he is still worthy is palpable, and that’s a
feeling that anyone who has ever wrestled with grief and depression hopes to
feel. You are not less because you are struggling, and that was what came
through loud and clear for me in scene after scene with him in this film. Even
after the film builds to an eventual victory that he’s part of, it’s not like it just
resets everything. Thor is still damaged. He gives up his place as King of New
Asgard because he knows that he has nothing to offer them as a leader. He’s
not ever going to be who he was again, and so whoever he’s going to be, it’s
going to require him to rethink things. Thor has become unmoored, and at the
end of this film, there’s no magic fix for that. He retains some of his arrogance,
he retains some of his deep sorrow, but there’s also a spark that has been relit, a
desire to find a purpose. It makes sense that they’ve left his story open-ended
while resolving things for Tony and Steve, because Hemsworth seems like the
one who still hasn’t fully explored his character.

One of the things that saddens me is that Tom Hiddleston has

apparently finished with his time telling new stories about Loki. I like the idea
for the Disney Plus show that will trace his history as the God of Mischief, but
he really was the perfect foil for Hemsworth. There was always such a great
energy between them, and Hiddleston seemed to take such pleasure from
messing with Thor. It’s one thing to have a good villain for a film, but Loki was
more than that. He was a real-deal antagonist, a character who existed
primarily to chap Thor’s ass, and his evolution into something like an actual
brother was one of the most consistent delights of the series. Maybe he had to
go, though. Maybe Loki unbalanced the Thor films to a degree, and removing
him from the table means Thor has to evolve new challenges and opponents.
Whatever they do with him, whether continuing his solo franchise or folding
him into the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise, it seems like he’s got room to
grow, which is always exciting creatively, while finally having a direction in
which to do so.

3. We Can Do This All Day

How do you write a character who is utterly, painfully sincere in a world

where sincerity is mocked and devalued at every turn?
 Film for film, the best trilogy in these 22 films is the Captain America
series, and it’s not even close. The first film by Joe Johnston has aged
particularly well, and I love that there’s a sweet sort of artifice to it all. Their
version of WWII isn’t real, but it’s real cool, and from the very start, Chris
Evans has had his eye on the prize. His Steve Rogers is the most consistent of
the characters, and he also stands apart because he was always the one who
chose this.

That’s no small thing. So many of the heroes we see in pop culture are
pushed into that position by tragedy that it’s almost bizarre to see someone
who simply stood up because no one else would. Steve Rogers exists to stand
up to the bullies of the world, a super-powered antidote to everyone who uses
their power to keep others from having a voice. He has a moral clarity that has
served him well in these movies, and it creates a different dynamic than we
have in most action films. The tension in these films isn’t about Steve and his
moral compass; it’s more about watching what happens when you drop a good
man into our world, where that seems to have very little value. Steve hasn’t
changed at all, and he’s found himself temporarily at odds with friends over it,
but in the end, they all come back and Steve just stays the same. It’s important
to have a constant in a landscape where characters are frequently knocked off-
course.

It’s the Superman problem in some regards. When you’re writing a moral
pillar, giving him shades of behavior can be difficult. Boy Scouts are boring. Or
at least, that’s the rap that characters like this get. That hasn’t been an issue for
Steve Rogers, though, and part of the reason is because the films have always
acknowledged how out-of-place he is. There’s that lovely little teasing thread
throughout Age of Ultron where they all dunk on him because he’s unwilling to
swear, but it’s a nice reminder that there’s been a coarsening of the culture, and
Steve represents a buffer against that. Steve’s a reminder of the ideals that
America has always said it represents, even when it hasn’t, and the greatest
value he has in wearing the name “Captain America” is in forcing us to ask
what we want from a hero who wraps himself in our flag.

After all, he is literally walking propaganda. While Steve Rogers, the

person, is very much already a functional moral being before he ever takes the
super-soldier potion, “Captain America” is a character someone else creates
and that he agrees to play. His first function is simply to sell war bonds. It is
only because it is Steve Rogers playing the part that “Captain America”
becomes something more. Thor has to learn to be worthy of his magical
weapon; the name Captain America only has value because of the things Steve
Rogers does when he wears it. What I find fascinating is how firmly some
comic book fans get hung up on rules when it comes to characters like Batman
(“he never ever uses a gun or kills anyone”) or Superman (“he seriously really
absolutely never ever kills anyone”), and how easy it is to find stories with
those characters that not only break those rules but that still work as smart
thematic explorations of them. It doesn’t feel like anyone complains about
Captain America killing bad guys, and since his introduction into The MCU, he
has left a truly impressive stack of bodies in his wake. There’s a sequence on a
boat at the start of Winter Soldier where Cap just straight up wrecks some
fools, and I remember thinking at the time how painful the hits all looked.
Nobody seems to blink an eye, though. Before they made the first film, there
were debates about whether or not international audiences would be willing to
watch a film about a character called Captain America. Nobody’s even raised
that question in a while, though, because he was so warmly embraced. In this
age where people parse the significance and the representational value of every
action of every character, somehow we don’t see a problem with the hero
literally named after our country exporting a little red-blooded death and
destruction to every corner of the globe.

I’ve seen critics struggle to set Captain America into the real globo-
political landscape, and they seem to tie themselves in knots. I get it, but I
think they’re trying to do something that can’t be done. Marvel very
intentionally hasn’t done that. Part of it is because of the real-world deals they
have with the US military to secure the use of the hardware. But part of it is
because he wouldn’t work in the world around us, and that’s part of what is so
powerful about the fantasy. I think there’s something in us that longs for things
to be simple. It would be great if the bad guys had red skulls for heads or if
they were weird Nazi ghosts in jars or easily disrupted death cults trying to
infiltrate our government. It would be great if simply punching the holy hell
out of a Nazi fixed things. It would be great if America was genuinely an icon
for good in the world, and if we could know, without question, that the people
who wore that flag were doing so for the right reasons, doing real good in the
world. And it would be equally great if the Marvel movies existed to offer up
savage social commentary, aimed at very specific current social evils. Part of
the secret of the universal appeal of these films is that vagueness, the way you
can bend them to fit almost anything. The most important thing is the
dynamic, something for Captain America to push against, or something for
him to fight for.

Which brings us to Peggy. Joe Johnston and Markus and McFeely

deserve credit for writing such a wonderful role for Hayley Atwell, not only in
Captain America: The First Avenger, but also in Agent Carter, the television series
where they gave her a full and wonderful adventure in her own right. By giving
Steve a true north for his heart that is as potent as the one he has in place for
his morals, they’ve made him a real beacon for all of the other characters, and
they’ve also made it very simple to understand what he wants. Steve picked up
the mantle willingly and he gives his life to the cause… more than once. By the
time we reach the closing moments of Endgame, he’s earned that dance with
Peggy. But more than that, he’s given an extraordinary chance to live a private
life as a normal man after living a full and exceptional life as a hero. I’ve seen
people who seem upset by the idea that Steve was always the mystery man who
Peggy’s been married to, but it’s the only way it makes sense. Marvel’s been
very careful not to show us the identity of the man she married. Endgame goes
out of its way to make it clear that time travel doesn’t work the way we
typically see it in movies, where changing the past rewrites the present, so the
history of the Marvel universe that we’ve already seen is still the history of the
Marvel universe. Steve has always been working his way back to Peggy, and
everything he goes through has been part of that journey. Steve’s constant love
for this woman has been enough to sustain him, even when he accepted that
there was no future for him, no happy ending. It’s fairly on the nose that Tony
tells Steve to “get a life,” but it’s a beautifully expressed idea. That’s exactly
what he does.

And, yes, I’ve heard the question, “How could Steve just be married to
Peggy and not get involved?”

Because he already did. Because he knows that the world has to play out
that way in order for him to end up where he does. Because he did his time,
and he left the shield in good hands.

Oh… that’s right. Let’s talk about those hands for a moment. I love the
hand-off of the idea of Captain America, and while plenty of legwork was done
to put Bucky in place to be the new guy, I think it’s beautiful and fitting that he
chooses Sam. Sam is exactly like Steve was. Sam isn’t special. Sam wasn’t
chosen by tragedy. Sam didn’t have some gamma accident. He’s just a guy who
saw what Steve did and who decided he was also going to do the right thing.
Sam is driven by that same desire to do good in the world, and Steve’s smart
enough to know what it means symbolically for Sam to become Captain
America. While it may infuriate a tiny minority of emotionally stunted man-
children who have grown up operating under the false premise that art is
apolitical, Steve Rogers has always been a social justice warrior in the truest
sense of the phrase. He picked his replacement carefully, and I want to see
Marvel respect that choice by giving us plenty of adventures with the new
Captain America, just as big, and just as bold.

4. A Little Hulk Problem

Edward Norton was the right fit, but the best thing Marvel ever did for
themselves and their own peace of mind was get rid of him.

I’m that weirdo that likes all of the Hulk films so far. I like the Ang Lee
movie. I like the Louis Letterier movie. And, man, I am happy every time Hulk
shows up in the MCU. It’s weird, because I didn’t love the character growing
up. Sure, I watched the ’70s TV show like any ‘70s comic nerd did, because it’s
what we had. There was nothing else. We bought into it because that’s the way
comic books looked in real life… right? What did we know? What was there to
compare it to? What I find interesting about Ang Lee’s movie is how it both
embraces the visual language of comics more than most comic book movies
even try to, and it utterly ignores the general storytelling choices that define
“heroics” in comics. It is a beautiful movie about anger and what we inherit
from our parents and how we are eaten alive by resentment, and it features a
giant action climax in which our giant green power icon wrestles a metaphor. It
is bananas, and I respect that.

But none of it really connected. The ‘70s show is a rough watch these
days. I’m actually a little surprised how rough it was, how cynical about people,
and how repetitive and one-note it feels, even judged by the standard of
late-‘70s TV. The Ang Lee film irritated people more than anything. And
coming off the undeniable high of Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk just didn’t work
for audiences in the same way.
 Norton was a great choice for Banner and there are plenty of small grace
notes in his performance that suggest just what a rich and weird part of the
larger MCU he could have been. But Norton’s a very particular collaborator.
Some people love working with him. Some do not. I’ll say this… I think
everything he does comes out of a genuine desire to find the best possible
version of something. He’s relentless on himself, and he’s relentless on the
people he’s working with, and that can exhaust some people. The reason it
wasn’t a great fit for Marvel was because Marvel very definitely has a final
answer, and that final answer comes from Kevin Feige. If you can’t accept that,
then you may not fit in their particular puzzle. Doesn’t make you a bad
collaborator. Doesn’t mean you’re wrong and they’re right. It just means that
Kevin Feige has a very specific picture in his head of what the MCU is, and the
only reason they ever got to this particular finish line is because he’s protected
and defended that vision for the past twenty years.

My reporting dropped me into the middle of that whole situation. I’d

gotten to know Norton a bit, as well as people around him, and when he found
himself trying to win his way into The Avengers, I was reporting on the rapidly-
shifting landscape of that negotiation in real-time. I had a source inside
Marvel, and a source at Norton’s agency, and listening to the two of them react
to each new piece of information was illuminating. Norton wanted to do the
film. He even met with Marvel and with Joss Whedon. But what Norton saw as
“the process” was too disruptive for Marvel, and they realized that they
wouldn’t be able to be fair to him. He would always want to be able to take a
pass at the script, and that wasn’t something they were going to give any actor
in the mix. When they went looking for alternatives, one of the primary
descriptors they put out to agents was “easy to work with.” They were casting
for chemistry as much as anything, and just like they did later with Spider-Man,
they used Robert Downey Jr. as their baseline. They bounced him off several
actors, and the moment they saw him play with Ruffalo, they knew they had
their Banner. But I’m not sure at that point they had any idea how much Hulk
he’d actually be able to play. That’s something they were still trying to figure
out.

Because they stopped making Hulk films after Leterrier’s attempt, it felt
like he was always on the back burner as a character, but they actually pulled
off a fascinating stealth arc for him over the course of the movies, and in some
ways, he’s the character who comes the farthest. When we meet him, he’s
already on the run, having tested a gamma treatment on himself and
accidentally unlocking whatever it is that turns him into the Hulk when he’s
angry. In that first film, he tries to cure himself, and in doing so, appears to gain
some sort of control over the transformation. When we see him again in The
Avengers, he’s clearly still struggling with that control, but in one of the film’s
biggest moments, he admits that he’s always angry, and he unleashes the Hulk
on purpose for the first definitive time. People lost their minds in the theater
when that happened, and the other biggest reaction from the film came at the
very end, when he thrashed holy hell out of Loki. It took them a few tries to
figure out how to create an appealing CGI Hulk, but from The Avengers on, he’s
been impressively realized. I love that there’s an entire set-piece in Age of Ultron
that is just concerned with how you stop a rampaging Hulk. Banner may have
learned some control, but there’s always a chance that he’ll somehow slip, and
if that happens, he’s a nuclear weapon. He’s too dangerous. He’s grappled with
what that means, and leaving the planet was a pretty good plan. It was
interesting to see how quickly Thanos humbled him in Infinity War and from
that moment on, Hulk found himself reluctant to engage, hiding inside Banner
for the very first time. That’s a huge shift in the dynamic. Before that, it always
felt like the Hulk was trying to get out, and Banner was the one struggling to
hold him in, but after Thanos showed him that he could be beaten, that he
could be hurt, Banner became the shield against the world.

Endgame has so much ground to cover that it’s amazing anyone’s given
any real character growth. With Hulk, the change that’s happened since the
last time we saw him is profound, and it puts the LOLA FX engine to the
biggest test it’s had so far. Mark Ruffalo’s work as “Professor Hulk,” the fully-
integrated combination of Banner’s brain and the Hulk’s brawn, is pretty much
the gold standard for performance driven character work so far. There’s such a
subtle blend of animation on actor that you have to stop worrying about what’s
what. That’s a performance. That is Mark Ruffalo. And, yeah, it’s also a ton of
animators and performance-capture technicians and it’s a whole lot of people
working to take the thing that Ruffalo does to turn it into the thing we see
onscreen. But it’s Mark Ruffalo. I’ve worked with him. I’ve been watching him
work for twenty-five years now, and part of what makes him such a special
performer is that strange unpredictably shaggy quality to the way he thinks his
way through a scene. He’s Method-trained, a stage actor first, and that’s one of
the reasons I think he took to this particular set of performance tools so
adeptly. I think if you’re theater trained, you’re more ready for the demands
that come with driving a digital character. I’ve actually done it once, for the
Ain’t It Cool pilot for Comedy Central, and I worked with the same team from
WETA that had just finished working on all the motion-capture for Matrix
Reloaded. The animated version of the Moriarty cartoon was tall and skinny,
exaggerated like a praying mantis, and the exact opposite of my own body type.
I couldn’t just move and see the exact same movement come out of my
character. I had to learn how to move his arms, his legs, his body. I had to learn
how to communicate attitude through stance and through motion. It was more
like puppeteering than it was like conventional acting, and it took me back to
my theater training. It was pure invention. While it is as high-tech as high-tech
gets, there’s something about it that is directly connected to the kind of
imagination that first drives people to become performers.

Ruffalo’s Hulk has evolved from film to film, and not just on a tech level.
He’s gotten to play the wrecking ball, the monster out of control. He’s gotten
to play the Jekyll and Hyde of it all. He’s gotten to slowly introduce more and
more speech into the equation. Watching how much fun he had in-character in
Thor: Ragnarok, it was almost like kids playing with action figures. Then there
was Banner driving around the Hulkbuster armor during the end of Infinity
War, a tech-version of what he’d always been. Now that Hulk’s put aside the
rage and become something more enlightened, he’s basically an organic version
of that. He’s a super-powered machine driven around by one of the best brains
on the planet. I love that Endgame Hulk is smaller than the biggest of the rage-
driven versions. He’s still big and he’s still powerful and I still wouldn’t mess
with the Hulk, but those design choices speak to character. It’s beautiful that
they’ve found a way to let the actor be such a big part of the process. This is
one of those cases where the Hulk we have right now is the best possible
version of the character, and it could never have existed before this, and it
could never have existed without the various hits and misses along the way.

Like Thor, there’s so much more they could do with Hulk that it feels
like this is the beginning of a whole new story. I’d love to see what choices this
Hulk makes about his future. How does he use his power now that the world is
somewhat repaired? How does he honor the choice made by Natasha? How
does he deal with whatever inevitable challenges there are to this peace that
he’s brokered between his different halves? I want those answers. I want those
stories. I want Mark Ruffalo to continue to be the delightful security risk he is
for as long as he’s up for it, and I hope Universal understands just how much
work Marvel’s done teeing up the character for anything they might want to do
with him.

5. Assemble!

As soon as they announced Joss Whedon, it felt to me like a home run.

Keep in mind, while I’m looking at The MCU as one big 22-episode
series, it’s more accurately a series of interlocking franchises, and each of those
franchises has its own ups and downs and successes and failures. The thing that
made The Avengers so crazy as a prospect was the idea that it had to be a sequel
to three different other movies, each of which had a pretty different tone. As
much as people talk about the house style for the Marvel movies, they’ve had
to find a different way to tell those stories, and Joss Whedon had to take
several moving parts that weren’t already finished and figure out how to put
them together into one thing that would satisfy everyone, however they got to
that film.

Here’s where the TV show thing comes into play. Yes, by that point,
Whedon had already made the jump to making movies, but that line is so
blurry these days that I’m not sure what the real difference was. I was on the
set of the film version of Serenity, and it looked a lot like the TV set. There’s
not much that different on the technical end of things. The differences are
mainly about how much time you have to do something. On the one hand, a
movie can feel like a condensed version of a season for a storyteller who is used
to that kind of 22-hour structure. You’re hitting the same sorts of beats, but on
a wildly accelerated timetable. With The Avengers, though, Whedon had twin
goals. He had to tell a story that felt both satisfying and epic, and he also had
to lay a ton of groundwork for the larger story that was just starting to unfold.
The Avengers is the end of the act one, but it’s designed to feel like it’s the end
of the story. After all, they’ve brought together Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Thor
now. They’re the Avengers. Earth is safe, right?

Only… it’s not. At all. Tony gets that glimpse of the infinite that sends
him down a spiral of fear and paranoia, and he’s right to feel that way. The
closing moments of The Avengers (which could use a quick CGI spruce-up to
give Thanos his proper face) don’t just hint at the larger threat, they make it
explicit. It’s clear at that point that there’s a bigger game in play, and each of
the individual films and each of the different franchises will all somehow be
involved. Here’s where we come back to the idea of Kevin Feige as the larger
author of all of this. There’s no way any individual filmmaker or team of
filmmakers could juggle all of the pieces required to make the entire story
work. All any of them can really do is focus on getting their one piece right,
and for Whedon, it was all about building the biggest tentpole in a world
increasingly built for and by tentpoles. It’s funny now how big the ending of
The Avengers felt when we saw it. We’re in the middle of a war of scale at the
multiplex, and it’s hard to imagine a “bigger” film than Avengers: Endgame in
terms of juggling cast and storylines and franchise management. And, yeah, I’m
aware that when I’m writing about these films, I’m switching between talking
about the business considerations and the creative ones, and that’s the juggling
act that Feige had to walk here. Much ink has been spilled establishing his
comic book nerd bona fides, but there are plenty of people who dearly love
comic books. None of them figured out a way to turn that love into a billion-
dollar business. I’m amazed how much of it all feels intentional now that you
can see the entire picture, and when we write about this era in the future, we’ll
write about how his very clearly-motivated plan inspired so many insane and
poorly-thought-out rip-offs. The rest of the industry knows it wants some of
that shared universe money, but they don’t seem to understand what it is that
made this particular example of serialized storytelling feel so addictive.

By using The Avengers as the larger anchor where you bring things
together, it gave them a structure to use in planning the individual story
threads, and by layering in the idea that the Infinity Stones and Thanos were
the ultimate threat, it gave them something to write towards. There was a
story goal always underlining everything, and while I’m sure they’d do it
differently if they could have written and fine-tuned all 22 in advance, it’s
amazing they got as much right as they did. One thing I think works better
when you look at it as a 22-episode series is the idea that there’s so much
failure and frustration baked into the middle of things. Putting The Avengers
together doesn’t save the world; it breaks it. They can barely function as a
team, and their problems spill out into all sorts of real-world grand-scale
damage. Age of Ultron is an entire film about hubris and the toxic effects of fear,
and it represents a pretty serious loss for the entire team. From there, they
rolled into Captain America: Civil War and basically melted down, and they
stayed broken all the way through the moment in Endgame where they leave on
the time heist.

There’s a beautiful image where they all put their hands in for a fist
bump, and it’s no accident that it looks almost exactly like the arc reactor we
later see at Tony’s funeral, the one that reads “Proof that Tony Stark Has a
Heart.” The fury we see from him at the start of the film is fury that they
weren’t enough to hold off all the things Tony’s been afraid of. He looked at
them not as friends or as family but as necessary tools, and that was a problem.
It’s only after he loses Peter Parker, and feels how intensely personal that loss
is, that he truly realizes what they are to him. By the time they come to him
for the time heist, he’s had a chance to get his head and his heart right, and it is
clear right away that this is a different Tony, both softer in important ways and
more determined than ever. For the first time, the Avengers who we see in this
film are truly a team, a family, a united front. Thanos did accomplish
something permanent with his snap, something that there’s no fixing no matter
how you mess with the timeline. Thanos turned the Avengers into the team
they were always meant to be, the thing that Nick Fury first imagined in his
office all those years ago. Fury never could have imagined the cosmic scale of
the threat, but he knew from the moment he met Carol Danvers that there
was a world he did not understand and could not impact himself. More than
that, he couldn’t have understood just how difficult it would be to juggle all of
the personalities, or how much damage each of these warriors would bring to
the table.

For the purpose of the Avengers franchise, the Avengers are Hawkeye,
Black Widow, Hulk, Captain America, Thor, and Iron Man, and the biggest
narrative purpose the Snap served at the end of Infinity War was to focus
everything on that team for the final time. In doing so, one of the most
surprising things to me was how clearly Natasha emerged as the spine that held
things together. I understand why fans who love her feel like they never got
enough of her, and honestly, she served as a narrative band-aid more often than
she served as a character with actual agency. But the moments where they did
write something for her to play, Scarlett Johansson continually brought a
dignity and an edge to her work. She believed in Nat even when the filmmakers
didn’t believe in her enough. When she was introduced in Iron Man 2, it felt
like the film wanted to treat her as eye candy but Jon Favreau also wanted to
make her more of a character than that, and it really wrestles with those two
warring instincts. I’ve certainly been part of the problem over the years at
times. A mild part, sure, but there’s a bit of leering in my Iron Man 2 review, and
I have to own that. Comics have always had a problem with that. Even when
they’ve been written well, there’s an overall message sent by the way women
are drawn in comics that is pervasive and undeniable, and comic book movies
imported some of that simply by virtue of the source material. I’m not
surprised we’re seeing such heated conversations around representation and
portrayal in superhero films, because this is where we’re sharing culture right
now. This is what we have in common. So now that we’ve established that,
everyone wants to play, and everyone should play. But that involves these films
and the overall approach to comic book movies growing beyond where they
began. Just as we get to this new era, where Ike Perlmutter’s finally gone and
Disney and Marvel can give as many audiences as possible room to see
themselves in these movies, we reach a moment where Nat makes a heroic
choice in context that feels like a real kick in the teeth taken as part of the
larger conversation. In the movie, I get the choice she makes, and I like it. I
think it makes sense for the Nat who once called herself a monster, the Nat
who has never shaken the guilt of her past, the Nat who was happy to have
been given any chance at all to finally do good. But for her to be one of the two
original Avengers to get shuffled offstage right now stings, because it feels like
there was finally room for them to let her run. I’m guessing her Black Widow
solo film will be the story of Budapest, explaining the bond she and Clint
Barton share. They dropped enough hints about it in this one to make that
clear. But it’s a bummer that we’re only going to be able to go back to tell
stories about her instead of forward.

I’m not sure what they’ll do with the actual title Avengers, but my vote is
that they retire it for a while. New Avengers is fine. Young Avengers is fine. But
leave the original as a closed loop for now. These four films were the story of
this core group, and now that it’s done, whatever comes next should be clearly
marked as being different. It keeps this era special, and it also indicates on a
storytelling level that things have changed. As they should. There are going to
be oceans of movies set in the same Marvel universe after this, and those
characters are all going to be influenced by this era of heroes, both behind the
scenes and onscreen. The mistakes they’ve made will make those who come
after them stronger, and the things they’ve done well will allow those later
heroes to soar even further. The real miracle of this series is that when they did
finally put everyone together, they fit. They fit the right way, and now that
we’re missing two of those pieces, they will truly be missed. This utterly
calculated and artificial endeavor became something organic and real, and
honestly, that is the most amazing thing about the entire series.

6. The Endgame

One of the most important things that Marvel did was the way they
gradually moved the goalposts for what the audience might consider weird. As
skeptical as Greg Ellwood was of Thor when I visited that set, he outright
rejected what I had to say when I got back from London where I was visiting
the Guardians of the Galaxy set. He simply didn’t believe that even Marvel could
figure out how to make the fat guy from Parks & Rec and a talking raccoon into
a viable franchise. He was sure that the whole reason they set the film in deep
space was so they could tie off that corner of things when they had to
amputate it later.

Maybe, but there was another goal, too, and that goal was to further
expand the idea of what was “acceptable” in the movie universe they were
building. James Gunn might be the most important creative hire they made on
The MCU after Robert Downey Jr. He took the weirdest assignment on the
entire roster and he turned it into a sensation. He didn’t fight the weird; he ran
with it. He took great delight in Rocket Raccoon and Groot and the freedom
that came with building his own corner of the galaxy. He was unafraid to stage
a dance-off as the climax of his big action space-opera. He cast the weirdest
cast Marvel had rolled the dice on yet, and he turned them into stars in the
process. And the way he did it was by writing them honestly, from the heart.
The same is true of Scott Derrickson’s Doctor Strange, a film that would have
been unthinkable for the Marvel executives who made the first Thor, where
they were so worried about the use of “magic” that they felt like they had to
over-explain it at every turn. Not only did they steer directly into magic with
Strange, they made a movie in which passive resistance proves to be the most
heroic act. At the same time, Peyton Reed carved out his own goofy corner of
things, indulging his love of ‘60s spy movie aesthetics and screwball comedy
with the Ant-Man films. Little by little, Marvel continued pushing against
interference at the ownership level, chipping away at the resistance to Black
Panther and Captain Marvel, and maybe it worked out the way it was supposed
to. Maybe it would have been too much too soon, or maybe they wouldn’t have
been ready to hire Ryan Coogler and maybe they wouldn’t have found Brie
Larson. Whatever the case, those films snapped into place near the end of
things in a way that made it clear that there was so much more to do and so
many more stories to tell and that all of this is just warming up.

Gunn’s film set the bar, though. It was the announcement to the
audience that they might go anywhere, and since then, Marvel’s kept that
promise and then some. At this point, there is a confidence with the
introduction of characters that is totally different than it was when they began.
They’d been told for years that no one would go see a Captain America film or
an Iron Man film because no one knew who they were. We live in a world now
where Valkyrie gets cheers when she appears onscreen. We live in a world
where Drax the Destroyer is an audience favorite. We live in a world where
pop culture has room for the Kree/Skrull war, where Ego the Living Planet was
played by Kurt Russell, and where Cate Blanchett is the goddess of death. Tilda
Swinton punched the Hulk out of Bruce Banner. That’s a thing I saw happen.
And the conversations around these films are conversations about so much
more than just “This character punched this character.” One of the reasons I
started writing about sharing media with my kids was because I realized how
broken our conversations about media really are. People love to blame media
for things, for the way people act, especially when dealing with behaviors that
scare or upset them, but that’s backwards. Media is the way we talk about
those behaviors, as well as everything else. My kids took lessons from movies I
never would have guessed contained those lessons, and I started really working
to understand how they digested things, how they came to those conclusions. I
used movies to introduce difficult ideas into our conversation, and it gave me a
way to broach any subject with them. Once they realized that we weren’t just
passively watching these films, then they became even more fun to talk to after
each thing we watch. You can absolutely just go to Marvel movies and let them
scan real pretty on the rods and cones and sit back and soak it up and let it all
roll over you without any deeper thought, and on that level, they have become
more and more reliable as amiable entertainment engines. But if you want to
engage with them, they cover a surprising amount of emotional and cultural
ground, and they’re getting better at it. I don’t think that’s what they set out to
do at the start, but now that they hold a sort of omnipresent place in culture,
it’s good to see them treating it as a responsibility.

“What if I just decide to watch Endgame by itself? Is it even a movie?”

Someone asked me that when we were talking a few days after it opened.
And to some degree, it’s a fair point. Take the scene in the elevator at the
original Avengers tower during the New York segment of the time heist. If you
don’t remember the elevator scene from Captain America: The Winter Soldier,
then that scene isn’t really going to make any sense to you.

But should it? Who said there are rules to how an individual film works
versus one part of a serialized story? At a certain point, it became clear that
there’s this big 22-part story being told, and each film is layering in stuff to
draw on, and then those last two films are just one payoff after another. By
design. Every callback is 100% intentional, and part of the point. When they
came up with the idea of the time heist, they bought themselves a literal
victory parade through the entire series of films that they’ve made so far. They
got to pick and choose where to drop back in and play around with what
viewers do or don’t remember. This is the strangest thing I can imagine, part
four of four different franchises at once. It is Captain America 4. It is Iron
Man 4. It is Thor 4. And it is very much Avengers 4. But doing all of that at
one time means that there’s something mechanical at the heart of this,
something that shouldn’t work but somehow does. It is the most continuity-
dense chapter of a serialized story that I think I’ve ever seen, and that’s what
makes it so rewarding.

It’s not a bug if it’s the entire purpose of the storytelling. The purpose of
this movie is, “Wrap it up.” It’s not fan service. It is simply the logical and
honest conclusion of these 22 films taken as a whole. Being irritated by it or
angry at it or cynical about it may make you feel better, but it doesn’t really say
anything about the movie. You don’t ever have to watch it, despite the
marketing that tells you that you do. I understand that Disney’s marketing
machine is exhausting. Try actually engaging with it sometime. I still have
bruises from my time at HitFix. It’s voracious. It demands your attention and
your time. It demands that you engage with it on its terms. The reason I
waited until today to publish this piece is not only because I was still writing it
frantically late into Sunday evening, but also because the Russo Brothers
announced that they’d be going on a morning show on Monday and the Spider-
Man:Homecoming trailer was coming with some spoilers of its own, meaning the
spoiler ban was up at that point so they could answer questions. I am not
saying “They get to set the conversation” at all, but rather I figured that was a
sign that people have had a chance to see the film. Two big weekends seems
like enough time for something to settle in on the event level. Even if people
were busy, if they wanted to see it, they’ve seen it, and now we can talk about it
like we’re having a conversation, not like we’re selling someone’s movie for
them.

Remember… Paramount was releasing these movies at first. Right

around the switch from Phase One to Phase Two is when Disney took over,
and I can tell you as someone who was writing about them as a journalist and a
critic, there was a huge switch in energy around them. They were already hits,
yes, but Disney immediately set to work turning Marvel into what it is now, a
cultural juggernaut. They began to educate the public in certain terms. “The
MCU.” “Phase Two.” They called their shot on an even bigger scale than ever
before. They started throwing these insane events where they treated it like
part Woodstock/part evangelical revival tent. They would trot out the movie
stars and they would make people crazy. They decided they were going to
conquer the world, and they got behind Marvel, and they pushed. They turned
the set visits into theme park rides. They convinced the press that they had to
be on the inside, because anyone on the outside was going to spend a lot of
time on Low Web Traffic Island. And to be honest, they delivered on that
promise. Marvel became the golden goose, and the press rolled over for them
willingly. The result is a system now where the press is doing all of the work of
the marketing arm of Disney, and they’re doing it without being paid for it.
They’re doing it because they’ve fallen into this trap. They need Disney traffic
to survive. If you’re going to do Disney traffic, you publish everything Disney
tells you to publish. It’s never stated like that, of course, but it’s a lot like
throttling someone’s internet access if they use too much bandwidth. Disney
sends out non-stop press announcements, and the sites that turn every single
bit of it into content are given premiere seats, set visits, and the kind of junket
access they need to really fully exploit every event movie opportunity. If you’re
an outlet that got interviews with Downey, Evans, and Hemsworth on this film,
you are 100% an outlet that plays the Disney game year-round, on every film,
big and small.

Disney is unavoidable… but that’s only true if you give a shit. My dad
doesn’t. My dad and I shared a lot of pop culture when I was younger, but
comic books were never his bag, and comic book movies do not do anything
for him. He watched about 25 minutes of Avengers: Infinity War at my house
when he was visiting, and then he left to go do something more interesting. It
just didn’t do anything for him. It was a nice reminder that you don’t have to
watch them. No one will judge you if you don’t. But if you don’t, then don’t be
surprised when part 22 of the series seems a little dense with references you
don’t get. Don’t act like it means there’s something wrong with the movie, or
like they’ve failed in the essentials of storytelling. And don’t be a prick about it.
For many audiences, Endgame represents a genuine landmark, and audiences
like that. Audiences like being told the Skywalker story is ending. They like
knowing Harry Potter’s going to face Voldemort once and for all. They like the
idea that there’s an answer at the end of Lost or that there’s one true victor of
the Game of Thrones. We crave these big absorbing stories, and we also crave
their conclusions. What happened with The MCU was simply a bigger-than-
normal version of that experience, but it’s an experience that has bound us as
long as we’ve had a pop culture. People lost their minds around the world when
Sherlock Holmes died. Dickens kept readers rabid for months or years at a
stretch. As soon as Hollywood invented movies, they invented sequels, and
there was a time when the serial was a shared addiction for many.

It’s hard to step back from this degree of saturation and marketing and
hype and simply see these things for what they are… stories. That’s it. And in
this case, these are characters and stories that existed before, that were told in
different ways, and that will be told in different ways again. This is simply one
version, one take, and what makes it remarkable is how it started so modest
and then eventually became what it is. When I cheer for this accomplishment,
I don’t cheer because of the billions of dollars or the Disney stock price or
because so many people became so rich. None of that matters to me. None of
that affects me. What matters to me is that I have seen my children grow up
believing in these stories, loving these stories, dreaming about these characters.
The spark that was lit in me when I was young was lit by one version of these
stories, and that spark was lit in my children by this version. What I’ll treasure
isn’t the establishment of a solid baseline of IP that can now support a wider
architecture of interlocked franchises that speak to a wide array of different
demographic audiences, all of them somehow also connecting. What I’ll
treasure is the weekend I moved out of my house because my marriage fell
apart, and while it felt like the world was coming apart, I took my kids to the
first screening of Guardians of the Galaxy, and it led to us having the words to
talk about how broken we felt and how important love was going to be to get
us through. I don’t really care about the Comic-Con events or the red carpet
premieres or the momentary markers of box-office performance, and I’m
baffled by the celebration of that stuff. To me, this is all about those late-night
conversations with my kids as they talked about what they’d do with super
powers and what ideas the movies led them to explore. The last twelve years
have been tumultuous for me, with some personal highs and some powerful
lows. But through all of it, my kids have grown in sophistication, and that
entire time, the Marvel universe has been slowly grinding along, going through
its own highs and lows, and giving me a shared world of imagination with my
kids that has bound us in ways we’ve needed.

Now my oldest son is starting to think about girls and college and what
he’s going to do with his life. My youngest son is still on the rollercoaster ride
up the hill to adolescence, but divorce has been tough on him. The world they
are inheriting is terrifying, as is the landscape for employment. It’s not going to
be an easy ride for them. I’m not rich. I’m barely making ends meet most
months. I worry all the time. The role that Marvel has played in our lives has
been as a sort of shared meeting ground where we can process the outside
world in abstract ways and also release those fears and stresses and sorrows
together. I saw Endgame the first time at a press screening, and then the second
time on opening weekend with the boys and their friends. For much of the
movie, I found a way to casually sit so I could see down the entire row, so I
could see all of their faces. I watched ten years of storytelling land on them. I
watched all the big surprises land on them. I watched them laugh. I watched
them weep. I would have payed anything for that experience, and it was
something that only happened because of what we’ve shared in the dark and in
the real world outside over the course of those ten years and 22 movies. You
can’t fast-forward to something like this. You have to earn it. You have to take
every step along the way. You have to live through it all for the ending to really
work.

There will be other things I share with my sons, but this was it. This was
their childhood. This was the defining cultural monolith that we had, and now
that it’s reached this conclusion, I am more than satisfied. I am grateful. I feel
like there was more heart and more good intention put into this than was
necessary. I would have been okay with a lesser version of the Marvel universe.
I am truly amazed by the one we got.
 And now… as a special bonus… because you guys have been so good to
me over the years… here are all of my Marvel reviews, as originally published.

For The Incredible Hulk, you’ll notice that I only did an editing room
report. That’s because I felt like it wasn’t fair on that film to do both, especially
since they didn’t screen the film pre-release. But it’s a pretty accurate report on
how I felt about what they were trying to do. Also, it appears I never got
around to reviewing Spider-Man: Homecoming. It hit right as I was trying to
figure out my own place in the publishing landscape. Frankly, I’m amazed I
kept up at all considering how weird the last few years have been.

PHASE ONE
Iron Man
dir. Jon Favreau
published April 29, 2008
Ain’t It Cool News

“Moriarty” here.

Oh, Favs, you did it this time. Iron Man is grown-up fun, a rare thing
these days. It’s escapism, no doubt about it, and it’s light as air for most of its
running time, even with a surprisingly high body count and a rough-and-
tumble aesthetic. This is not, however, a kid’s movie, and that is such a
welcome discovery that Iron Man seems even greater than it would if it were
just another kid-friendly superhero film.

Marvel Studios makes a hell of a debut with this film, and if they can put
together creative teams that take their characters this seriously each and every
time they make a film, then they could very well eclipse the work they did with
the other major studios, proving that they were right to step back and take
control of their own properties once again. From the opening frames of the
film, Iron Man is confident, cocky, and slick, just like Tony Stark. And, yes,
everything you’ve heard about the casting of Robert Downey Jr. is true. It’s an
insanely good fit between actor and character, and right away, he’s making you
laugh and he’s suggesting such a great history for Tony with every line, and as
the opening sequence plays out, you get it all quickly. By the time the actual
title appears onscreen, you will be sure that you’re not seeing “just another
superhero film.” I can’t think of a single one that starts like this, or that sets a
tone like this right away. It’s not James Bond. It’s not Robocop or The Rocketeer.
It’s not Spider-Man or Batman Begins. But it’s certainly got elements of all them,
digested and then organically reconstituted into something fresh.

Iron Man has its own vibe, and that’s what I responded to the most. This
is a movie with a pulse. It may be “summer product,” but it’s far more than
that, too. It’s pop art writ large, populated with great actors who all understand
exactly what they’re doing. And Favreau, who has been growing with each film
as a director, has finally put it all together here. If you wondered whether he
was really a comic geek or if he’s just doing this because it’s a blockbuster,
you’ll know the answer by the end of the film. This is a film born of pure geek
love, and that’s why it works.

Some people are complaining that this is an origin story. That’s sort of
true, but it’s not an “origin” the way we’re used to seeing them. There’s no
mystical accident. There’s no prophecy about Tony being the chosen one.
There’s no magic powers given to him by outside forces. This is just the
moment where Tony Stark grows a conscience and decides to contribute
something to the world instead of just taking from it. Although he’s brilliant,
he is a man of inherited wealth and power, and what we see here is the event
that leads him to define himself instead of just playing the role he was born
into. Robert Downey Jr. has had a fascinating career, defined as much by what
he’s done off-screen as on, and there’s something intoxicating about seeing him
step up and become the MOVIE STAR that he’s always had the potential to
be. He gives Stark a soul, and even at his most glib, there’s a grounded reality
to what he does that makes us believe in this world.

He’s helped by Terrence Howard as Jim Rhodes, the liason between the
Pentagon and Stark Industries, and by Pepper Potts, his personal assistant
played with wit and glamour by Gwenyth Paltrow, who looks like she walked
out of a ‘40s romantic comedy. He believes that Obidiah Stane is also helping
him, and Jeff Bridges embraces this bad-guy role, seeming to delight in every
terrible thing the film allows him to do. It’s no big secret to say that Stane is
the bad guy of the film, but the way the film’s structured, he doesn’t start off as
the obvious villain. Instead, Bridges brings his A-game to the film as well, and
as a result, both Stark and Stane are given more depth than you’d expect.
Anyone less substantial than Bridges might not fare as well opposite Downey,
but Bridges refuses to get overshadowed here. He can turn on the charm at
times, but when he amps up the menace, he’s scary, and he’s one of the reasons
I would not bring younger viewers to see the film. Once he finally reveals his
true nature, the film starts to play very, very rough, and I think they skirt the
fine line between the PG-13 and the R expertly. Clark Gregg also does some
great work as Agent Phil Coulson, and I like how his true nature is only
gradually revealed, leading to one of the great payoffs in the movie for fans.

ILM’s work here, combined with Stan Winston’s work, is just as seamless
as when they teamed up for Jurassic Park in 1993. There are many sequences
where I’m not exactly sure what is what. Could be practical. Could be CGI.
Beats me, and frankly, I don’t care. By the end of the film, I believed in Iron
Man. I believed that he could exist in our world. And that he would make it
better if he did. Matthew Libatique’s cinematography is rich and colorful, but
they’re not trying for a hyperreality like we’ve seen in many of the superhero
films. Instead, he gives things a rough-hewn realistic look, very matter-of-fact,
and it’s the exact right choice.

I wish Hans Zimmer’s score wasn’t so cookie-cutter. We have yet to hear

a truly great Marvel hero theme in any of their films. I don’t think Spider-Man
or X-Men or Fantastic Four or Hulk or Daredevil or even Blade had a theme that
really stands out the way the 1978 Superman theme did or the way the Burton
Batman theme did.

That’s a shame, because in every other way, this is an iconic movie. Mark
Fergus & Hawk Ostby and Art Marcum & Matt Holloway have done a
tremendous job distilling decades worth of comic characters and storylines
into an original piece that manages to pay tribute to many different eras of
Iron Man storytelling without feeling the need to “shake it up.” Instead,
they’ve cherry-picked the best stuff, carefully putting it all together in a way
that should please almost every fan, while never once drowning the film in
complicated continuity that would keep a new viewer at arm’s length. Yes,
there are some great nods to comic history, and yes, there are some very sly
suggestions about what to expect from future installments in this series (and
there will be many, many more... you can be sure of that), but even if you’ve
never read anything with Iron Man in it, those moments will play for you, too,
because this film is careful to give you everything you need to enjoy it.
 I like that the script isn’t about some threat that’s about to blow up the
entire world, or some villain who is about to topple the US government, or
some giant cosmic threat. Instead, it’s a fairly personal story that boils down to
a wrestling match over control of a multi-billion-dollar corporation. Doesn’t
sound like the most interesting engine, but keeping it simple means that more
energy can be focused on Tony himself and the journey he takes as he figures
out what to do with his awesome new invention. It’s a fairly lean adventure,
and now, groundwork laid, they’re free to explore the larger world that is only
hinted at in this film. I appreciated the fact that Stark doesn’t pull his punches
as he deals with the bad guys in this movie. It’s violent and scary at times, and
Stark doesn’t have the same sort of white-black moral code as someone like
Batman. He has no problem with killing someone who deserves to be killed,
and that startled me. When he tears into the organization run by Raza (Faran
Tahir), it’s brutal and unapologetic. It’s also one hell of an exciting sequence.

In the end, I don’t want to indulge in hyperbole by calling this “perfect”

or “flawless” or an “instant classic.” I think it’ll be a word-of-mouth hit all
summer long, and for every film that comes out and disappoints, I think that’s
another ticket sold to Iron Man as people go back and show their friends and
just watch it again for their own pleasure. And I think it’ll be a movie that sells
Blu-Ray players when it’s released later in the year.

Whatever the case, I’m satisfied, and it’s nice to feel like a film treats you
with respect rather than disdain, especially as the kick-off to what looks like a
very fun summer. Iron Man knocked me flat tonight... and I loved it. Thanks,
Marvel. Keep it up.

The Incredible Hulk editing room visit

dir. Louis Leterrier
published May 26, 2008
Ain’t It Cool News

Hey, everyone. “Moriarty” here.

Okay... so the other day, three clips showed up online for The Incredible
Hulk, which is not a sequel and not a remake but which is more a case of
Universal and Marvel hitting the reset button by mutual agreement. Everyone
looked at the Ang Lee film and just... decided to do something else this time.
It’s that simple. We knew that as soon as they started work on this one. Not a
sequel. Don’t even bother calling it a reboot. It’s just different.

I went to the Universal lot last Wednesday to look at a chunk of footage.

Those three clips that Harry introduced were from the footage I saw, but I saw
a big chunk of the movie beyond that. Enough that I can say with all
confidence that this looks like another example of Marvel done right. I think it
will belong next to Iron Man on a DVD shelf as the fun and crazy introduction
of the character who shows up in The Avengers. Maybe that’s the next place
we’ll see him. Maybe he’ll show up in someone else’s film like Iron Man 2. Who
knows? I’m guessing audiences will welcome this Hulk with open arms... ... if
they go. And that’s the question, isn’t it? I will. I’m excited.

Speaking as a parent for a moment, I actually want to thank Universal

for putting out the clip of the Abomination versus Hulk online. It’s an
excellent test of a young comic book fan’s threshold. Show them that clip. If
that looks like fun to them, I think you’re okay. If that clip is too scary, then let
the little one sit this film out. I think that clip is pretty crazy and wild,
something we’ve never really seen in a superhero fight before. Two giant crazy
supermonsters using every inch of a city to beat the holy hell out of one
another. For a long, long, long time. I think this is going to make the fight in
They Live look like a bitchslap. Every bit of it I saw made me laugh in the right
way. Like, “Oh, my god, they’re crazy. There are two monsters destroying
Toronto. And it’s AWESOME.” You have to decide if your younger viewer’s
going to be able to enjoy that, or if it’ll turn into a bad experience before the
movie’s over. It’s action movie overload, like a cake on a pie with ice cream and
a brownie.

A big part of that is Louis Leterrier. Never met him until last week, and
right away, he’s a guy you can tell enjoys his job. He knows full well that Hulk is
an action movie star. You don’t go to this movie to see Hulk win a debate. You
want to see Hulk smash, right? He’s the goddamn Hulk. And in this movie,
they’ve given him a villain that’s worthy of him and his power. They’ve given
him someone to punch. Finally... and in a huge way... Hulk will DEFINITELY
smash. And don’t get me wrong. I liked Ang Lee’s Hulk. I thought it was
beautiful and strange and experimental and sort of affecting. But in that movie,
the Hulk doesn’t fight a villain. There’s no suitable focus for his rage. At the
end of the film, he doesn’t fight a bad guy. He wrestles a metaphor. Onscreen. A
metaphor that was created by ILM and Nick Nolte in one of his finest batshit
hours, but still... a metaphor. It’s one of the weirdest endings I’ve ever seen the
Marvel movies try, and I love looking at it. But there’s no question that the
movie is a commercial nightmare. A total miss. It was never going to make a
dime for the studio, and even liking the film, I totally admit that.

I read Zak Penn’s pass on the new Hulk, and I thought it was pretty
much a bull’s-eye. Like any script, it was bound to change somewhat by
production, but it was the blueprint for a successful relaunch of Hulk, a new
issue one. And that’s a tradition that Marvel Comics has long been part of...
deciding to start a flagship character over from issue zero because of marketing
and sales and whatever other whims of fate. And Marvel fans have long since
accepted that as part of how things are done. Sometimes... you just start over.
Penn’s script seemed to get that.

Anyway... when I arrived at Universal, I was met by Kevin Feige and

Louis Leterrier, as well as Lindsey from Universal. Gale Anne Hurd joined us a
moment later, and we headed into one of the screening rooms at the front of
the lot. They said it wasn’t an ideal screen to use, but because of other
screenings scheduled on the lot at the same time, part of an international
junket, the best rooms weren’t available. As we settled in, Kevin Feige
apologized for not being able to show the whole film. “It’s just not quite
together on film. As of last night, though, the film is done...” He looked over at
Louis, who just smiled. “... isn’t it?”

Louis said, “What is it you told me? The George Lucas line?”

“Oh. Films aren’t finished. They’re abandoned.”

Louis grimaced. “Right. I abandoned my movie last night.” We talked

about the comparison shots that Alex Billington over at FirstShowing.net
published a few weeks ago, a dramatic example of how far the rendering has
come on the movie in a short amount of time. Louis said the post was very
tight overall, but everyone put in the sleepless nights. They told me that they
wanted to walk me over to the dub stage after the presentation to hear some of
the final mix in the film, but first, they were going to show me a series of
extended clips, stopping between each to talk about what I’d be seeing.
 First up was the opening title sequence, which had just been handed in
days earlier by the great Kyle Cooper, still most famous for that genius opening
to Fincher’s Se7en. “He’s worked with us a lot... he did the openings to the
Spider-Man movies, and he just did that great montage for the Apogee Awards
presentation on Stark Industries in Iron Man. This is an attempt to bring
people up to date with what version of the Hulk this is. Stuff most people
know, but laid out very simply. Bruce loved Betty. They worked in a lab. There
was an accident and he became the Hulk. She got hurt. Her father’s a general,
and now he’s chasing. Bruce is on the run, looking for a cure. It’s been years
now, and that’s where our film starts.” Louis explained that all of the footage of
the accident and the origin was originally presented in the film as flashbacks,
but they wrestled with it, and finally decided to try handing it over to Cooper
to make sense of as an opening. There were several versions that they worked
on, various edits, before they finally locked this one down. It’s a very cool, very
smart way of getting a lot of information across very quickly, and it’s comic
book but it’s not as self-conscious about it as what Ang Lee did with the panel
frames and the editing. This just has the right energy, the right kinetic sense,
and it paints in big broad strokes.

You’ll catch a reference to Stark Industries in the opening, something I

love since it starts the big push to tie the whole Marvel Universe together on
film. I’m going to unabashedly enjoy watching them lay each brick on the way
to The Avengers. I’ve always wanted to see a company try this on film. Not just
one sequel or a series of sequels, but a larger interconnected world where you
can tell any story under this one giant umbrella.

The accident in the lab that first transforms Bruce into the Hulk is
played as scary, and both Betty and her father are hurt in the aftermath. Ross
doesn’t just hate the Hulk because he hurt Betty; he hates the Hulk because he
made him feel weak. And they don’t have to say it... it’s in the way Hurt plays
that moment, looking up at that monster, all of his military training useless in
the face of that thing. And the Hulk is played as a monster. Not just as a big
green giant. When you see how big the standees are that are in theaters right
now… when you actually stand next to that thing and see how it would look in
real life... it’s right to be a little bit afraid of Hulk. The rest of the opening lays
out what Bruce’s life has been like since. Running. Afraid. Out of control. And
then Bruce wakes up, and the film begins.
 My first comment to them was how nice it is to see them reference the
TV show without directly doing a remake of it. There are visual cues, and a
sort of thematic similarity to the way it’s played. Kevin said, “The first act of
this film is pretty much an episode of the show. And then the second act takes
us onto the much larger stage that the comic occupies. With Betty. And
General Ross.”

Louis talked about how the most important thing to him was the idea
that each of the major Hulk fights in the film had to be different. Each one had
to have a rhythm of its own. Each one was against different enemies. He talked
about premiering the first clip at the New York Comic-Con, where they had to
face “3000 scared fans, with no idea what to expect.” They were well aware of
how fandom was reacting to the lack of footage all the way up until about two
months ago. They just didn’t have a Hulk ready to show yet, though, so that
New York crowd was the first place they could go to have a big group of comic
and movie fans together where they could unveil their approach.

Gale and Kevin talked about how they had to stand in the back, waiting
to start the Hulk panel, watching Guillermo do his presentation on He"boy 2. If
you’ve never seen Guillermo in front of a crowd, you have no idea how
intimidating he can be. He’s hilarious, and he really works a room. And he had
all of the actual physically created monsters from the film on the panel with
him, so the crowd was having a blast. So they thought it was going to be really
hard to walk up there and reintroduce the Hulk. And instead, when they
showed the clip that they showed me second, the response was immediate and
enormous. Louis said he almost felt like a rock star for a moment in the
afterglow of this explosive demonstration, this collective “HOLY SHIT THAT
LOOKED GOOD!” that filled the place.

Kevin set the stage: “At this point, Blonsky’s already encountered the
Hulk one time, and he didn’t like the way that encounter ended. He sees the
Hulk and he becomes obsessed with this thing. He knows that Ross knows
what this thing is, and so he really corners him on it. He learns that there was
this certain super-soldier program during WWII, and Ross revived that
program and is trying to use it to come up with a solution to the Hulk
problem.”
 Again... I’m loving this. The idea that they’re going to tie Hulk’s origin to
Captain America’s backstory when Cap finally shows up... that’s fun. That’s the
sort of thing that’s going to get mainstream audiences really invested as they
see all of these puzzle pieces snapping into place. Comic geeks may have
decades of continuity bouncing around in their heads, but for general
audiences, this is ground zero. They’re just getting their first taste for how all
of this works, and I hope it works. “So now Blonsky’s been injected with the
serum, and he’s outwardly unchanged, but he’s feeling the effects, and you’ll see
that in this scene,” Kevin said as the lights went down.

The scene began with Bruce trapped in a walkway between two

buildings. Ross orders his men to shoot gas into the enclosed walkway, and as
they do, Betty breaks free and runs towards him. Bruce is freaked out and
afraid, but it’s not until he sees the soldiers below handle Betty roughly that
the change begins. I noticed that they don’t show the full transformation here.
You get the shirt shredding in close up. A hand swelling and growing while
clenched in a fist. A huge shape rising up in the cloud of tear gas. And then it’s
go-time.

The Hulk comes busting out and starts distributing some serious
mayhem. Which actually seems to please Ross. “Now she’ll see,” he says, as
Betty watches the Hulk tear through several teams of soldiers. This isn’t just a
few quick shots of Hulk, either. This is a major head-to-head broad daylight
battle sequence, with the Hulk thinking as much as smashing. He uses his
environment, uses anything he can get his hands on, and he takes the soldiers
apart. It’s pretty great stuff.

Once Hulk’s wreaked enough havoc, Ross tells Blonsky to go for it, and
Blonsky goes in, up close and personal, and actually fights the Hulk. That’s
what this clip was taken from. Right after that quick bit and Ross’s amazed
“He’s really doing it,” Blonsky scrambles to his feet and takes off running. Fast
enough that the Hulk can’t keep up. He leads the Hulk towards a pair of giant
sonic cannons, and as soon as Roth is past, they open up on the Hulk. It’s
punishment on a massive scale, and for a moment, it looks like they’ve got him.
Imagine what it would take to seriously hurt the Hulk. They manage to pin
him to the ground for a moment, but the Hulk figures a way out. I laughed out
loud several times during the sequence, pleased at how big they were going.
 There’s another clip online, courtesy of MTV, from a little later in the
sequence, but you really can’t get a sense of just how big the scene is until you
see it all in context. It’s awesome. There are two things about the footage that
must have made the visual effects guys absolutely mental: a lot of this stuff is
handheld, and the film was shot anamorphic widescreen scope, a full 2.35:1. It’s
not Super Panavision or even 1.85, which is what they prefer, and it makes for
extra work for them. But it pays off, because there’s a very real and captured
feeling to the battle footage, and the scope frame makes it all feel epic. At the
end of the scene, Hulk walks away with an injured Betty, leading into the next
scene they were going to show, and Kevin Feige explained that the scene was a
reference to one book which, more than any other, inspired the visual
approach to this film. Louis went on to explain that when he first met with
Marvel about making this movie, he wanted to do some homework, and he
picked up everything he could get his hands on about the character. In the
process, he found one book in particular, called Hulk: Gray.

Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale have done some strong, iconic work together on
many comic legends. This collaborative interpretation of the Hulk is very
stylized, very emotional. And there’s a scene in a grotto that definitely inspired
the sequence Louis put on next. This is where I think the Universal Monsters
vibe comes through the clearest in the stuff I saw. This is Hulk trying to
connect to Betty, huge and terrifying but tender with her as well. It’s raining,
and he wants to get her someplace sheltered. Someplace safe. He bashes his
head on the low-hanging rock as he does. He panics at nearby thunder and
rages at the storm overhead. He’s primal and raw, but she finally manages to
talk him into sitting. Quietly. So they can just watch the storm in peace.

It’s a lovely moment, and considering the propulsive energy to most of

what they showed me, this one quiet beat is a strong indicator that Louis can
handle the heart of this film just as well as he can handle the action. We talked
about how they used MOVA technology to allow Ed Norton to actually
“perform” the Hulk facially. This goes beyond the simple mo-cap phase and
allows for far more nuanced expression and personality in a captured
performance. Now you’ll really see Hulk and Abomination played by Norton
and Roth, and it will allow them to bring real character to these giant
creatures. The scene with Betty is a perfect example of how that pays off in
subtle, realistic work.
 Then we talked a little about Lou Ferrigno. Anyone who was a fan of the
show in the ‘70s has a soft spot for Lou, and it’s very shrewd of Marvel to reach
out to him. They originally just offered him a cameo in the film, and the clip
where he appears is a nice one, a passing-of-the-torch between Ferrigno and
Norton. Lou looks great, by the way. But onstage at the New York Comic-Con,
they actually offered Lou a chance to voice the Hulk in a few scenes, and he
rose to the occasion. Turns out, he’s been working on his version of a Hulk
voice for a while, and since he never got to speak on the TV show, it’s
something he’s been itching to do. In the final film, Lou’s work is combined
with the work of Dave Farmer, who did the vocalizations for Peter Jackson’s
King Kong. He doesn’t say much, but the few lines he delivers really pay off.

Louis talks about how many Easter eggs there are in the film this time,
how they’ve layered in references to the show, and the comics, and how some
of them are only for the most hardcore obsessive fans. At that point, Kevin
warned me that the Stan Lee cameo in this film is the strangest one they’ve
done yet for any of the Marvel films. “Be prepared. It’s... it’s really weird.” As
Louis laughed, Kevin explained that it’s actually one of the most important
cameos that Lee’s done “because it directly affects the plot,” but that it’s very
strange. The more he called it “weird,” the harder Louis laughed, so I can’t wait
to see it.

The next clip they showed is the big transformation scene in the film. As
with the action scenes, the transformations build gradually over the running
time. The first major sequence with the Hulk, when Blonsky’s team tries to
capture Banner in Rio, culminates in a factory where Hulk goes apeshit. We
only see part of his change there. Same thing in the scenes I described above.
And that’s because Leterrier wanted to build to a transformation that would
take place under the harsh unforgiving lights of Tim Blake Nelson’s laboratory.
“One of my favorite films is An American Werewolf In London,” Louis explained,
automatically making him one step cooler in my book, “and I really wanted to
create a scene like that... where we can feel what it’s like for Banner, and where
we see very step of that change.”

Indeed we do. You get a quick glimpse of the sequence in one of the
trailers, but what I loved most about the change is the sound. You can hear
bones breaking and muscles knitting. You get the feeling that this is an
intensely physical process and not just swelling up like a green balloon. It looks
like it hurts like shit, and Norton totally sells the change. They force him to
transform in the lab so that they can try to apply a cure, and things get out of
hand.

One of the things I noticed in this scene that I like a lot is the low-tech
approach to the labs and the science in the film. It’s the opposite of Iron Man,
where Tony Stark had the absolute cutting-edge of everything. Here, Bruce is
forced to work on the fringe, so everything feels jerry-rigged and barely held
together. This particular transformation is probably the best Hulk moment in
either film so far because of the way it personalizes Banner’s reasons for
wanting to be rid of this curse.

Finally, they showed me a piece of the Abomination/Hulk fight from the

end of the film. You’ve seen the trailer where they run towards each other and
jump up together and BOOM! But the clip they showed me starts before that
and ends well after that, to give a sense of just what happens when the
immovable object and the irresistible force finally meet. I love the moment
where Bruce throws himself out of the helicopter. On the way down, he does
that iconic Banner/Hulk thing where he closes his eyes as the transformation
starts, then opens them suddenly to reveal the green irises. Only... this time,
there’s no green iris, and we just get a quick “Oh, shit!” before he hits the
ground. By now, you’ve probably seen part of this fight, and I haven’t seen
much beyond where that clip ends. This is an epic rumble, though, that takes
up much of the final act of the film, and if they pull off what it looks like
they’re aiming for, this might be the new gold standard for superhero battles.

I remember as a kid seeing Superman II and thinking that the fight in

Times Square was amazing. Looking at it now, it’s all sort of slow-motion and
awkward wire work and it doesn’t have much weight to it. I like the idea... but
the execution just wasn’t possible at that time. Now, finally, a fight like this can
have the right kinetic energy, the right scale. It’s exciting, and I think Leterrier
is well aware of just how lucky he is to be able to stage something like this.

This was the last of the clips they showed me in that room, but since we
still had a few minutes, they asked me to walk over to the dubbing stage with
them to see a piece of the film with the right sound mix. This is where I saw
pretty much the entire factory scene from the first act of the film, and it’s an
awesome sequence. The Hulk is like a great white shark, picking off Emil
Blonsky's men one by one, lunging out of the shadows, then vanishing again.
There are so many little touches that work, so many smart action beats... I like
that Leterrier doesn’t just throw sound and chaos at you and assume that is the
same thing as action. Instead, he builds his sequences, uses set-ups and pay-offs
to keep turning up the intensity. He understands that each sequence is a mini-
movie that has to have its own shape and structure, and the result is some of
the most ingenious and entertaining superhero action yet from any Marvel
movie.

I want to thank Gale Anne Hurd, Kevin Feige, and Louis Leterrier for
taking the time last Wednesday, and Universal for putting it together. I wish I
was going to be in Austin for whatever Harry’s cooking up for his screening,
since I’m sure it’ll be awesome, but for now, I’m just looking forward to my
own first viewing of the finished film.

Considering my apathy towards the film as recently as four months ago,

it’s nice to be this excited and this confident that the final product is going to
be worth that excitement.

Iron Man 2
dir. Jon Favreau
published April 27, 2010
HitFix

Let's call this one the victory lap.

Iron Man was no guaranteed hit before the weekend it opened. There
were people predicting failure for that film even after it opened, even after it
started to turn into a word-of-mouth-must-see, not just a box-office success but
a genuinely loved pop culture moment. The first movie's got its weak points,
but it also has a ridiculous energy to it, and I unabashedly loved it when I
reviewed it for Ain't It Cool.

Iron Man 2 is, in every possible way, issue two of a comic book. It doesn't
have to spend time setting up the origin of the character, and it doesn't feel the
need to resolve every single story thread introduced in this one film. There's a
sense that everyone's settling into this series and thinking big. It is just as
confident as the first film, and incredibly aggressive in the way it handles story
and characterization. The pre-title sequence picks up mere seconds after the
ending of the first film, and introduces Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke), an
embittered Russian with family ties that make Tony Stark a perfect target for
his rage. By the time the main title appears onscreen, everything's already in
motion, and then we're right into the Stark Expo, where Tony Stark (Robert
Downey Jr.) takes the stage.

Do you remember on shows like Happy Days when the fan favorite
character like Fonzie would make their first entrance and the audience would
go nuts for so long that the actor would have to stop and wait for a moment
and acknowledge all the applause? Well, that's the first ten minutes or so of this
film after that opening title, as we're dropped into the daily life of Tony Stark,
Public Superhero. He's at odds with the US Government, who want the suit,
and he's at odds with Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell), another weapons
manufacturer who hates that Stark is everything Hammer wants to be. He's at
odds with Pepper Potts (Gwenyth Paltrow), who is desperately trying to hold
his company together even as his attention is being pulled in a thousand
different directions. And he's at odds with his own body, which is failing him as
the chest implant that powers him and that powers the suit slowly fails,
poisoning him even as it keeps him alive. This is not a movie in which there's
only single threat to Tony Stark or to the world, but in which he faces almost
constant threats, and in which he's never given a moment to relax.

Jon Favreau has gotten even better at building his action sequences, and
he stages a few showstoppers this time. Once Ivan Vanko finally builds his
prototype Whiplash suit and debuts it during a Monaco street race, the stakes
start to escalate for Tony quickly. It's a relentlessly paced film, and the action
scenes aren't just one style over and over. I actually think one of the best in the
film takes place between Iron Man and Col. James Rhodes (Don Cheadle), who
shows up at Tony's birthday party only to find him drunk and dangerous, using
the suit to show off. Rhodey has no choice but to suit up himself and stop
Tony, and what starts as an intervention with armor turns into a brutal
encounter in which long-simmering resentments suddenly blow up. It's a
perfect example of the way this film manages to keep even the most outsized
action scenes focused on character, with plenty of small, quirky flourishes.

The first Iron Man ended with a post-credits scene involving the
introduction of Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and a quick mention of "The
Avengers,” and since then, there has been a lot of speculation and conversation
about Marvel's game plan of eventually building one giant movie featuring Iron
Man, Captain America, the Hulk, and Thor. The building blocks have never
been more apparent than they are here, with Fury playing an actual role in the
film and not just dropped into the post-credits sting. His organization
SHIELD also plays a greatly increased role this time, and there are clues
dropped to the role that Tony's father Howard (played briefly by John Slattery,
famed for his work in Mad Men) had in founding SHIELD decades earlier.
Both Captain America and Thor are overtly referenced in this film, and my
guess is that we're going to see these references work directly into the films
that Marvel has in the works for next summer. It's a fascinating gamble, and I
talked to people after the film who were just annoyed by the whole thing, but I
think it's like watching part of a big, crazy mini-series. I don't feel cheated at
all by these clues. Iron Man 2 works as a complete film without any of these
Avengers-oriented moments, but they add to the overall texture of the piece in
some really rewarding ways. One of the questions fans have had about the film
is what role Natalie Rushman aka The Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) would
play in the film, and how she'd play into the larger continuity. I think it's a very
smart, simple use of the character, and I'll wager we see her show up in several
other movies in the Marvel universe in the next few years.

Besides... Scar-Jo in IMAX? Pretty much a Christmas gift. Ka-pow.

Don Cheadle's work here demonstrates a much better chemistry with

Robert Downey Jr. than Terrence Howard did as Rhodes in the original, so I'm
guessing this will be a casting switch that fans barely notice. Maybe it's because
Rhodes has a better part this time, but everyone in the film registers with
strong work. Sam Rockwell plays Justin Hammer as the funhouse mirror image
of Tony Stark, and he plays more scenes with Mickey Rourke as Vanko than
anyone else. The two of them give off a real air of danger, and they make an
imposing threat to hang the film on. Even Clark Gregg, returning as Agent
Coulson from the first film, has a few choice moments, which is good since
we're going to see him in Thor next year. Paltrow and Downey come off as the
Nick and Nora Charles of the Marvel universe with their lightning fast volleys
of frustration shot through with affection, and there's an actual arc to their
relationship here, etched in subtle but effective exchanges. 
 Films like this often come down to moments... are there moments in this
movie I want to see again immediately? Yes. In fact, I'm leaving town this
morning to do exactly that... see it again. And I'm taking my wife with me,
because the first film sort of blew her mind. She didn't realize she
(Robertdowneyjr) liked Iron Man so much as (Robertdowneyjr) a character,
and it was so much fun (Robertodowneyjr) for her to watch. 

Ahem. I get it. That's what they're selling. That's the show. Him in the
suit and him out of the suit is equally compelling to me in this film. I like
Stark. I get him. He's tapdancing. He's living a certain version of himself in
public. There's a POV sequence here (including a great cameo) that gives you
an idea of what it's like in the helmet... only it's not the Iron Man helmet... it's
the Tony Stark helmet. And more than that, it's the Robert Downey Jr. helmet.
It's him that you're taking the ride with. And he doesn't get to hide behind a
Bruce Wayne persona. When Tony Stark makes a public ass of himself, he does
property damage because of his suit, and everyone knows it's him. They're
nowhere near "Demon In A Bottle” here, but they certainly make Tony stupid
and human and genuine as well as heroic and comic book cool.

ILM's work is more impressive this time out, precisely because it's hard
to tell where the real suit stops and the CG suit begins, and Matthew
Libatique's cinematography is richer, more vibrant. I have the same complaint
about the score this time that I had about the first film... I still don't think
there's an Iron Man theme that works. It’s sound and fury and almost entirely
forgettable. Still, if my one big complaint about the film is that I don't care for
the score, that's a pretty good sign. 

I thought even without the shock of the new on its side, Iron Man 2
works as a blast of pure confidence and charisma, absolutely effective, and I
expect audiences are going to devour the film when it reaches theaters May
7th.
Thor
dir. Kenneth Branagh
published April 11, 2011
HitFix

I am of mixed mind about the glut of superhero cinema right now, and
this summer is going to test the patience of the audience with the genre. 

In the comments section for my Transformers piece yesterday, Vern

posted a few times, invoking the image of Pauline Kael trying to write about
the current landscape of movies. It’s both very funny and a nice humbling
reminder that critics are defined by their overall diet of movies. We are only
ever as good as the movies we are given to write about, and when I’m done
with all of this in the future, will the sum total of my work be varying opinions
about how well people crafted movies that primarily deal with dudes in funny
costumes beating the hell out of each other?

The thing is, part of me has been waiting my whole life to see the Marvel
characters in particular brought to life on the bigscreen. Now that they’re
actually doing it, there is a great deal of satisfaction in seeing how they
approach each of the characters, and even if I haven’t loved all of the films, it’s
been exciting to watch these things come to fruition. I am happy to admit that
I’m an easy mark for this sort of thing. I have a voracious appetite for pulp,
and I’m not sold on the idea that these movies need to be “important”.

On the other hand, if they’re not fun, they don’t really have any reason to
exist. These films cost a small fortune, especially if you want to make the
outrageous seem possible, and that sets up the expectation that they must be
bigger and more significant than the average issue of a comic book… even if
that’s all these films really are.

Thor is the latest film from Marvel Studios, and part of this year’s
double-feature that completes the run-up to next summer’s The Avengers, the
biggest gamble the studio’s made so far, and one of the biggest gambles from
any studio in town. One of the most common complaints about last year’s Iron
Man 2 was that it felt like more of a set-up for another movie than a complete
story that worked on its own, and that’s certainly a danger when you’re
working your way towards something. Thor is also risky for the studio because
it is the first moment where they’re introducing magic to the Marvel Universe,
which has been defined by a sort of pseudo-science so far, impossible but at
least pretending to be set in a real world. With Thor, they’re making a pretty
major jump, and even after visiting the set and reading the script, I had some
big questions about whether or not they’d strike the right tone and find a way
to make this feel like part of the world they’ve been so carefully building.

The answer is a resounding yes to both questions.

Chris Hemsworth, best known to audiences as Kirk’s father in that

powerful opening scene to Star Trek, is just as good a fit for the character of
Thor as Robert Downey Jr. is for Tony Stark, and that one thing goes a long
way to making the film a pleasure to watch. Finding the right way to introduce
the character and his mythology is the big task this movie has, and there were
some very interesting choices made in deciding how to bring Thor to life. First,
they dumped the notion of him changing into a human being, something that
was part of the earliest version of the character that Marvel published.
Originally, Dr. Donald Blake had no idea he was Thor until a chance encounter
with a cane he found in a cave revealed his true nature to himself. In that
version of the story, he had been sent to Earth by Odin to learn humility, and
living his life as a human being in an infirm body was an important way of
guaranteeing that he could not rely on his considerable physical power or his
godly powers.

With Captain America coming out this summer and focusing on the
startling transformation from skinny Steve Rogers to muscle-bound Captain
America, Marvel made the wise decision to not deal with a shape-shifting
Thor, while still finding a way to do something thematically similar. Instead of
an origin story, they’ve decided to tell the story of the moment when Thor goes
from an indifferent impulsive god to a being who has a connection to our world
that makes it important to him and who is able to think beyond himself finally.
It is his transition from a super-powered being to a full-blown superhero, and
in doing so, they’ve managed to make a movie that doesn’t really feel like any of
the other Marvel movies, that has its own voice, and that pulls off its various
goals with real charm.

The film opens on Earth, or, as Thor calls it, Midgard. Jane Foster
(Natalie Portman), her friend Darcy (Kat Dennings), and Professor Andrews
(Stellan Skarsgard), Jane’s mentor and advisor are looking at a strange energy
phenomenon, one that Jane predicts will manifest again over a specific part of
the southwestern desert. When it does, they race towards it in their RV,
braking only when a figure looms up out of a cloud of dust and debris and they
end up hitting him. As Jane runs to help him, she looks around at the miles and
miles of desolate landscape and asks, simply, “Where did he come from?”

The next half-hour of the movie backs up to answer that question and
introduce us not only to the character of Thor, but to the world he inhabits.
For years, I’ve heard Avi Arad and Kevin Feige refer to Thor as “Marvel’s
answer to Lord Of The Rings,” and when they first started developing the film,
they were planning something more fantasy-oriented, a film that would take
place across the Nine Realms. That was before they started bringing all the
properties together in one shared world, though, and at some point, they
realized that they needed to use this movie to bring Midgard and Asgard
together. The film spends some time establishing the basic rules of Thor’s
world and introducing Odin Allfather (Anthony Hopkins), the ruler of all the
realms, and his sons Thor and Loki (Tom Hiddleston), one of whom will end
up sitting on his throne one day. While Hopkins has certainly played variations
on this type of figure many times over, he works with an economy here that is
appreciated, and both Hemsworth and Hiddleston perfectly fit these roles.
They take these big mythic archetypes and make them human and specific, not
an easy task.

Thor is close to taking the throne from Odin, and on his coronation day,
there is a disturbance that upsets everything. Frost Giants from Jotunheim,
one of the Nine Realms, somehow manage to infiltrate Odin’s Vault, where
weapons gathered from around the universe, each one powerful enough to
bring about Ragnarok, have been stored for safe-keeping. There’s one that was
stolen from the Frost Giants that they want back, and they actually make it all
the way to where it’s stored before The Destroyer steps out and kills them all.
The coronation is interrupted before Thor can be crowned, and Odin, Loki,
and Thor investigate, not sure how anyone could have made it into Asgard
unobserved. Thor wants to immediately go confront the Frost Giants, and in
particular, he wants to kill Laufey, their king, as an example. Odin tries to get
him to stand down, but a bitter argument erupts between them, Loki
desperate to make peace before things escalate. Too late, though, and Odin
realizes that he almost handed over the rule of Asgard to an angry child.
 He strips Thor of his powers, banishes him to Midgard, and then invests
Mjolnir, Thor’s magic hammer, with a magical task. Only once Thor has
learned humility and become a person of substance… only once he is worthy…
will he be able to reclaim his hammer and all the powers that come with it,
setting up a very simple Sword In The Stone scenario which becomes Thor’s
main focus once he wakes up and realizes he’s on Earth. That brings the movie
full-circle, back to that opening scene out in the desert, and is a major element
in the middle of the film. Based on the trailers and the clips so far, I was
worried that the film would be nothing but wacky fish-out-of-water humor
about Thor trying to fit into a modern world, but by now, you’ve seen most of
that. It’s not the main thrust of the film. Instead, the film keeps cutting
between Asgard, where Odin has fallen into the enchanted Odinsleep, leaving
Loki on the throne, and Earth, where Thor is having to confront what it means
to be a mortal man. Loki, who starts the film as a trusted and loved brother to
Thor, reveals his true nature fairly early on to the audience, and he ends up
learning some hard truths about his own origins that leave him shaken, things
that threaten to destroy Asgard completely.

A few observations about things I really liked in this film: when

superpowered beings fight in this film, there is a sense of power and force that
we still haven’t seen in many of these movies. I’ve complained often about how
disappointing it is when Superman faces off against a human-scaled threat like
Lex Luthor because it means we never really see the upper limits of what
Superman can do. In this film, there are many fights where every single being
onscreen is superpowered, and all of the punches and kicks and throws are full-
strength, nothing held back. And while Kenneth Branagh has still never met a
dutch angle he didn’t love, the action in the film is staged well, and there are
some beats and some images that push comic book language on film to places
we haven’t seen before. In particular, I think everything involving Heimdall
(Idris Elba) is spectacular, and I love his Observatory and the way the Bifrost
works. It is crazy, but it’s also kind of beautiful. I also really like Sif (Jaime
Alexander) and the Warriors Three, Thor’s compatriots. Volstagg (Ray
Stevenson), Fandral (Joshua Dallas), and Hogun (Tadanobu Asano) don’t have a
ton to do in the film, but they make their time onscreen count. If they do show
up in future movies, it will be a welcome return.
 Beyond that, Mjolnir is made a credible weapon of choice, something I
was curious about beforehand. One of my many issues with TRON: Legacy was
that the discs are interesting in the context of a disc wars jai alai match, but as
hand-to-hand weapons, there are few things stupider than the sight of two
people slapping at each other with magic frisbees. They just didn’t work, and
you could practically feel the fight choreographers give up halfway through the
few action scenes they even bothered to stage. Here, there’s a lot of different
weaponry on display, and it all seems like actual weaponry you would use to
actually kill things. Mjolnir is pretty damn handy in a fight, and Hemsworth
makes it feel like something he’s comfortable using in a number of different
ways. In general, he makes his powers feel like something he’s comfortable
with, a lifelong part of who he is. There’s no montage in this film of him trying
to learn to fly or tentatively trying out the hammer to see what it can do. He is
Thor from the very beginning. His character arc is all about his attitudes
towards the world around him, and his eventual acceptance of responsibility
for his actions.

In some ways, Thor feels like the youngest of the Marvel movies so far,
pitched squarely at a kid audience that really doesn’t know the character, and
that may infuriate some older fans. I’ve long been afraid, though, of 30 and 40
year old men who demand that each and every movie about thunder gods and
radioactive spider-men and vigilantes in batsuits be tailored directly to their
appetites. I read comic books as a kid. They were a gateway to pulp storytelling
for me, and I was rabid about them. I don’t want these movies to be serious,
piercing explorations of the human soul. I want superpowers and fights and
flying and monsters, and Thor absolutely delivers on that level. Branagh finds a
nice tone to play with the entire cast, and there is a sense of humor to things
that seems fairly low-key and gentle. For me, the most consistent laugh in the
film is the way the oh-my-god adorable Kat Dennings keeps mangling the
pronunciation of Mjolnir.

The film is true enough to its comic origins to incorporate ideas like the
Rainbow Bridge, one of those things I honestly never thought I’d see anyone
do in a live-action movie, and they manage to make it sort of gorgeous. Bo
Welch’s production design takes some big crazy ideas and figures out a way to
make it all seem fairly real. Haris Zambarloukos, the film’s cinematographer,
shot one of the ugliest professionally-produced movies I’ve ever seen, the
borderline-incompetent Mamma Mia!, and he worried me more than Branagh
walking into the film. His work here is strong, though, and there’s a burnished
hyper-color quality to the world that works well. Branagh is one of those
directors who I think works very well with actors, but who has traditionally
displayed a fairly wretched sense of cinema. I still wake up in cold sweats
thinking about how badly he mangled the gorgeous script for Mary She"y’s
Frankenstein, and I’ll never understand what people see in Dead Again, even if I
live to be a thousand years old. Having said that, I generally liked his work
here. I was surprised by how much I liked some of the giant-scale sequences,
since I thought those might be the places where he dropped the ball, but
there’s one chunk of action that takes place on the Frost Giant’s home planet
that is very effective, and while I’ll give second-unit legend Vic Armstrong
some of the credit for that, it’s a testament to how well Branagh was able to
drop into someone else’s way of doing things that it all came together as
coherently as it did.

Natalie Portman is fine as Jane Foster, but it’s not really a role that
demands much of her. She is basically the thing that allows Thor to finally see
humans as more than these weak little backwards beings, and she’s certainly
pretty enough to make a god reassess our planet. Dennings is comic relief and
little more, but she is as plush and appealing as always, while Skarsgard has a
few good scenes and appears to be part of the big plan for what’s coming in
future films. In general, the material with SHIELD seems to organically hint at
the larger Marvel Universe this time without totally overwhelming the main
story in the film, and the after-the-credits beat in particular is very effective. I
thought the Hawkeye cameo in the film was utterly pointless, though, and
especially for audiences who don’t know the character already. I would never
guess, based on his two minutes of screentime here, that Jeremy Renner’s going
to play a major role in The Avengers next year. He’s not just inconsequential, he’s
useless and distracting. It is fan service, at best, and more than anything, sort
of annoying. I also think there’s a disconnect between the spectacular real
environments built for Asgard and much of the CGI work, which seems to re-
use certain shots several times to the point where they almost feel like stock
footage. I like the design of Asgard more than I like the way some of it was
executed, and it seems odd that Digital Domain and BUF, companies that I
think are among the best at environmental work, would make some of the odd
mistakes they make here.
 Even so, there’s a whole lot of the film that I really like, and I can’t wait
to take both of my sons to see it. Allen’s never seen any of the Marvel movies
so far, and Toshi’s only seen them on home video, and even then, only selected
parts of the films. This time out, the playful nature of the film and the broad,
primary-colors storytelling seems like a perfect way to finally introduce them
to the world. The 3D post-conversion is actually pretty clean and used well, and
I think for kids, the immersive quality of it all will really pay off. If Captain
America is at least as fun as Thor, then Marvel can rest easy until next summer,
because they will have managed to introduce each one of the Avengers
successfully. The best thing I can say about this film is that it genuinely made
me want to see Hemsworth arguing with Robert Downey Jr., magic versus
science, and I can finally imagine the two of them occupying the same world.

Captain America: The First Avenger

dir. Joe Johnston
published July 20, 2011
HitFix

Captain America: The First Avenger is one of the finest movies yet from
Marvel Studios, and a big departure in tone and storytelling from most of the
films they’ve made so far. It is a strong indicator that the more willing the
studio is to experiment, the more exciting the payoffs can be. In this case,
there’s no clear precursor to this one in anything else Marvel’s done, and it
feels like branching out and trying something this different freed them up. It
helps that director Joe Johnston shot the film like he had something to prove
and Chris Evans appears to have been born for this role. Everything came
together here in a way that I’m not sure anyone could have predicted, and that
indefinable chemistry is one of the things that makes this feel so special.

The first and most immediate difference between this and the other
movies Marvel has made so far is the time frame over which the story plays
out. The film starts in the present day, then flashes back to the early days of
WWII. The main story plays out not over days or even weeks, but over years.
It is, in essence, a look at the entire WWII career of Captain America, and his
origins as Steve Rogers. It isn’t structured like a typical superhero film, either.
It focuses on two main arcs over the course of its running time. First, there’s
the story of Rogers, a skinny weakling with a lion’s heart who is chosen to be
the test subject in the Super Soldier program headed by Dr. Abraham Erskine
(Stanley Tucci) and how he learns to handle the power he’s been granted. At
the same time, we follow the efforts of Johann Schmidt (Hugo Weaving), aka
The Red Skull, whose HYDRA is starting to outgrow its origins as the dark
science division of the Nazis thanks to his discovery of a strange glowing cube
that once resided in the vault of weapons kept by Odin in Asgard. The
collision between these two story arcs is what keeps driving the movie forward,
but there is plenty of room built in for digressions, and the end result feels like
reading an entire collection of issues of the same book.

The first movement of the film is just concerned with getting Rogers
into the experimental chamber that transforms him, and it’s during this
sequence that it becomes clear just how strong a handle Johnston has on the
tone that is so crucial to making this film work. After all, WWII was a war
that made clean moral sense, part of an age before widespread cultural irony
and snark, and the film has a sweet, innocent feel to it. Rogers is, simply put, a
good guy. He believes in serving his country. He believes in putting his life on
the line for ideals. And even though he’s a physical washout, he is so
determined to join the Army that he refuses to accept the word “no.” It’s that
spirit which informs the very storytelling, and there’s something lovely about
something so clearly fantastic being grafted onto what is essentially Band Of
Brothers. There is a familiarity to the way the war is shot that calls on our
collective film memories of the war in a very smart way. I wouldn’t say Captain
America ever feels particularly real, but it creates such a strong and persuasive
heightened reality that it doesn’t matter. I like the version of the world that
Rogers lives in, and there’s a sequence at a World’s Fair, including an
appearance by Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper) that suggests Tony comes by
his ego honestly, that is gorgeous, painterly in design and execution. There’s
some Fleischer Superman in this movie’s DNA, some Norman Rockwell, and a
whole lot of LIFE magazine photography, and the result is stylistically exciting.
I can see why Johnston has spent so much energy comparing this to Raiders Of
The Lost Ark, and there’s even a laugh-out-loud clever reference to Raiders early
on, but Johston’s done more than just ape someone else’s work. He’s taken all
of these influences, including his own Rocketeer, and he’s bent them all into
something that perfectly fits the story of Captain America.

Watching the way he develops from test subject to unproven hero to

veteran warrior, Rogers is given more room to grow into the character we’re
going to see in The Avengers than almost any of the other Marvel heroes so far.
It’s not immediate for him, and simply sprouting muscles and a six-pack does
not make him into the hero who could lead others.  His development also
isn’t a humbling, a la Thor, but rather a process of settling into the skin he’d
always felt like he deserved. As with the best of these movies, the Red Skull
isn’t just an antagonist to Captain America, but a skewed reflection of him. In
both cases, these men were given the same serum, and whatever they were on
the inside, they became on the outside. As good and as decent as Rogers is, the
Skull is pure amoral ambition. Weaving is disturbing as the Skull, but it walks
that fine line where I think adults will appreciate the subtle shadings of the
character while younger viewers will be thrilled by his unrepentant nature.

They each have plenty of assistance, of course. Tommy Lee Jones is

excellent as Col. Chester Phillips, the military head of the Super Soldier
program. He’s so disappointed in Rogers at first that he hands him off to the
USO to sell war bonds and put on shows. Jones brings his expert comic timing
to the role, and he also lends Phillips some real weight. It’s one of those things
that could have been flat in the wrong hands, but he finds every nuance in the
role and really makes the most of it. Hayley Atwell is Peggy Carter, on loan to
the US Army from England, and one of the real surprises of the film is the way
she and Cap end up as the first truly credible romance in a Marvel film.
Because we’re not dealing with something that plays out quickly, there’s time
for these two people to learn real respect for one another, and the attraction
they share is based on who they are inside. Peggy knows the real Steve Rogers,
the skinny kid from Brooklyn, and while she can certainly admire the new gift
wrapping, it’s the humanity that Rogers brings to his choices that draws her to
him. Because their storyline works so well, it adds a heartbroken punch to the
end of the film that I hope will inform who Cap is when we catch up with him
next summer in The Avengers. The movie ends on a note I didn’t expect, and
it’s stronger for it.

In addition, Cap ends up working with a childhood friend, “Bucky”

Barnes (Sebastian Stan), as well as a group of battle-hardened soldiers led by
“Dum Dum” Dugan (Neal McDonough), and the Howlin’ Mad Commandos
register more strongly as a group than the Warriors Three did in this summer’s
Thor. It’s not a matter of more screen time, either. It’s just that the actors are
all very good at suggesting relationships that have played out over time, and
they’re used well. Stan’s version of Bucky is absolutely being set up to be the
Winter Soldier in future films, and there’s one moment in particular that is
basically a giant blinking neon sign designed to indicate exactly where the
story’s headed. I like the energy he brings to the role, and I’d hope to see more
of him in future films in the series.

Meanwhile, Dr. Armin Zola (Toby Jones) makes a great toady for the
Red Skull, taking the cosmic energy he’s harnessed and using it to build out a
science-fiction arsenal that adds one more degree of remove from reality. It
can easily go wrong when you add science-fiction to another genre, and the
worst case scenario is something like Will Smith’s take on The Wild Wild West.
Here, though, it feels perfectly blended in, and it allows the film to play rough
without being overly violent. It’s thrilling, often very exciting, but it is not
graphic, and that makes a huge difference in what age range I’d recommend
the film for, opening it up to much younger viewers.

Alan Silvestri does some of his best work in a while here, giving Captain
America some of the best themes in any Marvel film, and Alan Menken
contributes a song for the USO sequences that is flat-out brilliant, a perfect
slice of propaganda that is era-appropriate and witty without winking. Shelly
Johnson, who has shot several other films for Johnston including Jurassic Park
III, Hidalgo, and The Wolf Man, is an invaluable part of what works about the
movie. Even though it doesn’t feel like an effects-heavy film, it’s technically
very impressive, even more so when you realize that the work wasn’t all done
by one FX house. I think it’s smart to farm out particular things to particular
teams, and this is a film that was worked on by a number of different vendors.
Whoever handled the skinny Steve Rogers effects deserves a pat on the back
because as strange as it looks, that wears off quickly and it just becomes a
performance. There’s a lot of beauty to the way the FX work was designed and
executed, and I just plain enjoyed looking at the movie.

Marvel has been working towards this moment for a while, and there
have been a few moments where it felt like they were making missteps with
the individual movies in their rush to reach The Avengers, but they’ve saved one
of their very best movies for last, and I suspect Captain America: The First
Avenger will send audiences out of the theater rabid to see what’s next.
Film Nerd 2.0 review of Thor
dir. Kenneth Branagh
published May 4, 2011
HitFix

So far, the Film Nerd 2.0 column has dealt primarily with older titles. I
can't really speak to how other people share films with their kids, but this
column has been driven so far by my desire to help my kids navigate the ocean
of media choices available to them.

For the most part, I believe my kids should have a media diet made up of
older titles, for the simple inarguable reason that there are far more good films
that already exist than you'll find in any multiplex on a given weekend. Yes,
there are good films being made all the time, but if you're going to give your
kids a healthy diet of film, you have to be willing to dig deep. You have to do
more than just slavishly march to the theater and show them whatever
blockbuster Hollywood tells you is "for the family" at this particular moment.

Over the course of this column so far, we've dealt with films from the
'50s, '60s, '70s, '80s, and even '90s. And by keeping their intake so diverse, I've
seen that my kids aren't just sensation junkies, demanding only big and loud
and now.

Having said that, this column came to life one afternoon in a theater for
a new release, when I took Toshi to the theater to see the JJ Abrams Star Trek
reboot. The movie electrified him. It's hard to fully explain the reaction he had
if you weren't there to see it, to see his body language. He stood for almost the
entire running time, every muscle in his body clenched, and if I tried to touch
him at all, he would brush me off, so engrossed in the film that he wanted no
other stimulus, nothing to break that connection he was feeling. He was lost in
the movie, and that ability to get lost, to get completely absorbed by what
you're seeing, that feeling when something goes from being passive
entertainment to something immersive, an experience remembered instead of
something just watched... well, that's the hit that I've been chasing my whole
life, since the first moment I got bit by that exact same bug.
 So this week, let's talk about another new release. Last Saturday night, I
went to the Paramount lot with Toshi, Allen, and Allen's godfather Craig, a
good friend of mine. We tried to keep it a secret from the boys as to why we
were going out, but they've been so pumped up, so hyped for this film for the
last month or so, that I think they had their suspicions. And sure enough,
when we got onto the lot, Toshi started asking us questions about Thor right
away. I've been hesitant to take them to see the other Marvel movies in the
theater so far because of the level of intensity in the films, but there is
something about the tone of Thor that feels like a conscious choice, a desire to
open the films up to a younger audience. This felt like an appropriate place to
jump in for the boys, and I was curious to see how they reacted to this big
bright cosmic adventure.

Short version: they lost their minds.

It's interesting to me how Allen, who just turned three in March, has a
much more hearty appetite for the freaky and the scary and dark than his older
brother. Toshi will be six in July, and he seems to be very directly affected by
things in films when they push him outside his comfort zone at all. He is
fascinated by monsters, but there's a huge difference between seeing a still
image and seeing something move, and while he can spend hours looking at
books about the Universal monsters, seeing Frankenstein or The Wolf Man in
motion is still very upsetting for him.

Toshi covers his eyes frequently in films, something I recognize in myself

when I was a kid. I probably rode the Haunted Mansion at Walt Disney World
a dozen times before I did it with my eyes open, and I learned something in
the process: when you close your eyes, whatever you're afraid of seems a
thousand times worse than it would if you just watched it. Eventually, I shifted
from hiding my eyes to seeking out crazy things, almost like I was daring
myself to respond to what I saw. Toshi has yet to figure this one out, but Allen
seems to have just been born with it innately. If he's freaked out by something,
he leans in closer for a better look.

With Thor, both boys seemed deeply engaged and entertained, while
there were a few places where Toshi felt overwhelmed and covered his eyes. In
particular, there's an early sequence where Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and the
Warriors Three (Josh Dallas, Ray Stevenson, and Tadanobu Asano) join Sif
(Jaimie Alexander) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston) on Jotenheim, the planet of the
Frost Giants, and they confront the entire race of these massive, powerful
things that can use ice as a weapon. And Toshi sat closer to me, covering his
eyes with his hands but keeping them tented so he could still see everything.
Allen, on the other hand, clenched his little Burger King Thor figure tightly in
one hand during the entire sequence, rocking and jumping in response to what
happened onscreen.

The film is far more than just action sequences, and I was curious to see
if the boys would hang with the character stuff. They did, too. In fact, that's
what led to our best conversation of the night, as we were on the way home
after dropping off Craig.

We started talking about the meaning of the movie, and Toshi really
needed to work through why Odin (Anthony Hopkins) would take all of Thor's
power from him and throw him out of Asgard. It upset him emotionally, and I
explained to him that Odin wanted Thor to be a good person, and when he
realized that Thor was selfish and had no self-control, he was disappointed. He
cast him out of Asgard to force him to learn the lesson of humility. Only once
Thor learned to help other people and control himself could he return to
Asgard and be Thor again. Toshi asked a few follow-up questions, but I could
tell he was really struck by this idea.

Finally, he announced quite firmly that he was going to be like Thor. "I
want to be a good person, too, Daddy. I want to help people like Thor. I don't
want to be bad, because I don't like to get vanished and be lonely."

"How about you, Allen? Do you want to be a good person like Thor?"

"I'M LOKI!" Allen proudly announced. And no matter how hard I tried
to dissuade him on the way home, he kept telling me that he's going to be Loki
when he grows up. I'm pretty sure it's the horns on the costume.

The funny part is that I've actually seen a shift in Toshi. He has started
picking up the playroom every night before bed without us having to ask. He
did his homework yesterday before we even realized he had homework. And
he's trying his best to be kind to his little brother, something which eludes him
at least once every day.
 As much as he took away all the flying and the fighting, there is a
genuine lesson that sunk in here, and the particular definition of "hero" that
Toshi took away from Thor might be the most impressive thing about the film.

Even if his little brother is still determined to be Loki.

The Avengers
dir. Joss Whedon
published April 24, 2012
HitFix

I’ve seen the film twice now, and I’m going to do my best to avoid
pointless hyperbole in reviewing this. 

Short version: it’s tremendous entertainment, confident and complete in

a way that none of the Marvel movies so far have been, and I say that as
someone who likes the Marvel movies in general. The company makes an
incremental leap forward with this movie, and they’ve set the bar fairly high for
themselves in the future. I am pleased and impressed and feel like this more
than pays off any emotional investment I made in the movies as they were
being released.

When discussing The Avengers as a film, though, there are several ways to
approach it. You can look at it as a further evolution of what Joss Whedon
does as a writer and director. You can review it based on its place in the
Marvel canon overall. You can analyze how it fits into the overall genre of
superhero films. I think the only way to place it in the correct context is to
approach it from all of those directions, because the film seems to occupy a
unique place in pop culture, and considering how big a commercial product it
is, there’s something sort of revolutionary about its very existence.

When Joss Whedon was producing Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel, I
never would have called them out as rehearsals for eventually making The
Avengers, but looking at this film now, with the hindsight of how those shows
played out, it’s pretty obvious. Each season of Buffy was about introducing a
new Big Bad, then assembling the team needed to defeat the villain and testing
that team’s integrity, putting personal pressure of each of them in an effort to
find their weaknesses. Eventually, each season would build to a genuinely
world-threatening situation, and it would take great personal sacrifice and
difficulty for good to save the day. The Avengers is built like an entire season of
one of his shows, but in two-and-a-half hours and with a budget that he could
have never dreamed of during the early days of Buffy.

Whedon came onboard the film after work had already begun on the
script, and he shares a co-story credit with Zak Penn, who was the guy Marvel
initially hired to help figure out how to bring all these characters together. The
final script positively reeks of Whedon, though, and all of his strengths are on
display here. The characters are written with a specific ear that makes each of
them shine. A great example would be Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanova,
aka Scarlett Johansson. In Iron Man 2, she proved adept enough physically, but
she didn’t really have a character to play. She was given an attitude, and she did
as much with it as anyone could, but by the end of that film, we didn’t really
know anything about her. By the end of her first scene in The Avengers, we’ve
learned a ton about her, and she’s become far more interesting than I would
have imagined.

Whedon’s fondness for pop culture references is on full display here, and
instead of sticking out as Whedon writing in Whedon’s voice, they’re used to
underline who these people are, with one particular moment involving Captain
America serving as a particularly sharp example of how you can illuminate
character with very simple ideas. The film’s biggest secret weapon is that it is
one of the funniest films you’ll see this summer, using humor to punctuate
many of the big moments, never undermining the stakes but often helping to
modulate the tension that Whedon slowly ratchets up from the very start.
Whedon is not afraid to highlight the absurdity inherent to a world where
anger turns one man into a giant green monsters, where demigods struggle
with sibling rivalry on a global scale, and where the world’s biggest spy
organization uses a giant flying aircraft carrier in the sky as a base, but he takes
it all seriously in all the right ways.

In the continuity of the Marvel movies, the ones actually produced by

the studio as part of their larger world, The Avengers is easily the best of the
bunch. I wrote a piece last year about the long road the studio took to get to
this point, and I think there’s been a certain level of quality that the films have
reached so far. I’ve liked things about each of the films, and I’ve enjoyed the
way they’ve been trying to fit them all together even as they’ve tried to tell the
individual stories. I think they’ve hobbled themselves a bit at times with their
focus on the endgame, but now that I’ve seen The Avengers, I’m more than
happy to overlook those flaws because I think it’s worth it. If it took some
weird digressions and some awkward structuring to get Marvel to the point
where they could hit the ground running with this movie, then so be it.

Even if you factor in all the other superhero movies that weren’t made by
Marvel, this goes on a very short list of the very best of them ever made.
Whedon’s affection for the conventions of the genre are evident, and he makes
every scene feel like a stand-alone lesson in how to treat comic book source
material with respect. He grounds things in a real and recognizable world, but
he’s not afraid to indulge the weirder, pulpier side of things. His comic book
world is big enough to include the strangest corners of deep space and the
most mundane stretch of New York City street, and it all feels like it works
together. Christopher Nolan has been rightfully praised for his work on the
Batman films, but he’s always made it a point of pride that he has taken the
more outrageous elements of that world and twisted them so that they fit into
something closer to “reality.” Whedon doesn’t do that. Instead, he embraces
the nature of the world he’s creating, and he simply treats it seriously, with
respect, and in doing so, he is bound to spur the imaginations of young viewers
worldwide.

Balancing this many big personalities, both in the film and on the set,
has got to be difficult, but the film manages it in a way that makes it seem
almost easy. Robert Downey Jr. remade his career with his work as Tony Stark,
and part of the fun of the way he plays the part is that it’s hard to tell where
the character stops and the actor begins. Stark doesn’t just wear his ego turned
all the way up to full volume, he somehow makes it charming. He seems to
come by it honestly, and he always tweaks it by revealing the eccentricity and
the broken pieces that make up Stark’s secret heart. He could easily
overwhelm a group movie if given free reign, but Whedon’s script manages to
integrate Stark into the group quite nicely. I like the way his relationship with
Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, is given dimension by the daddy issues
that seemed to be jammed into Iron Man 2 without much conclusion. We saw
the relationship between Howard Stark and a young Rogers in Captain America,
and there is just enough reference made to that here to create some real
tension between Cap and Iron Man. Chris Evans seems like a totally different
person as Captain America than he did when he starred in the Fantastic Four
films. There’s a square-jawed sincerity to his work, and an unironic sense of
duty that makes him feel both retro and cutting-edge at the same time. We
live in a media age where irony and sarcasm are cheap currency, a constant
presence in everything we consume, and Evans deserves credit for shedding
that completely and making it feel like such a strong choice.

Chris Hemsworth continues to impress as Thor, and he finds any

number of ways to reveal the human heart of the Thunder God, often making
subtle choices in scenes that make Thor feel more real. His relationship with
Loki is a powerful drive in the film, and Tom Hiddleston’s work as Loki is
tremendous. He reveals how much more damaged Loki has become in his
exile, and he takes the moustache-twirling villainy of comic books in a very
different direction, playing Loki as an open wound, a feral beast with a
cultured smile. Meanwhile, both Jeremy Renner and Scarlett Johansson,
introduced in small supporting roles in other people’s films, benefit
enormously from the way they’ve been written here. Renner’s character spends
much of the film under the hypnotic sway of Loki, so we don’t really “meet”
him until halfway through. Once he’s set free, though, his righteous anger gives
him a strong motivation to stay at Ground Zero, fighting desperately so that he
can score some payback. His connection to Johansson’s character is,
thankfully, not a romantic one, and it helps make both of them stronger
presences in the film.

I’m a fan of both Ang Lee’s Hulk and Leterrier’s Incredible Hulk, but both
films are flawed in significant ways as well. In general, I’m interested in the
different ways each film approaches the Banner/Hulk dynamic and how they
use the Hulk once he’s introduced. Having said that, neither film makes use of
the Hulk as effectively as this one does, and I suspect that Hulk merchandise is
going to be the biggest hit with kids this summer. Mark Ruffalo makes Banner
into a compelling presence on his own, and even if he never changed, he’d
make an interesting contribution to the film. Once he does, though, the Hulk
is preposterous fun, and he delivers some of the most amazing beats in the
movie. I think the use of SHIELD here is also pretty great, and there is real
awe in the way the Helicarrier is revealed. Nick Fury, played by Samuel L.
Jackson, finally steps up as the leader he’s meant to be, and Jackson feels like
he’s more engaged here, especially when he gets to jump into the action a bit.
Cobie Smulders and Clark Gregg make the most of their scenes, and Gregg is
rewarded for his work in the franchise so far with the best overall writing for
Agent Coulson that anyone’s done, turning him from “that guy who delivers
some of the awkward exposition” into an important piece of the overall puzzle.

The film moves quickly, even at two hours and twenty minutes, and the
final set piece is such a triumph, such a marvel (pun fully intended) of plot and
character and action, that I’m having a hard time remembering the last
blockbuster that satisfied with such confidence. It’s one thing to produce mass
mayhem that is visually convincing, but this film also manages to build in real
emotion. The mayhem matters because these characters believe it matters, and
every payoff feels earned, thematically satisfying.

I have one major complaint, and it’s something that would have made
the difference between the grade I’m giving the film and the grade I could have
given it. Alan Silvestri’s score is good here, serving the film well from scene to
scene, but the Marvel films in general missed a great opportunity. If they had
managed to create a memorable and iconic score for each film, with each
character getting a theme of their own that was burnt into the consciousness
of the audience, then this film could have been a sonic wonder, with those
scores layered on top of each other, playing off one another, doing for the ear
what the film does for the heroes. One of the things that makes the Star Wars
films or the Indiana Jones films feel like magic is that they feature music that
does more than just cue us emotionally… those scores evoke moments
instantly for audiences, and they communicate so much about what you’re
watching. There’s a moment here where Loki is fighting Captain America in
Germany, and suddenly AC/DC begins to blare from nearby speakers thanks
to Iron Man patching in and playing his own theme music as part of his
entrance. It’s a very funny moment, but I wish the film could have done this
for each of the Avengers, and it feels like the biggest way they dropped the
ball.

If that’s my biggest complaint, though, that seems like something that I

can live with.

There is no reason The Avengers should even exist as a movie, and it

makes even less sense that it’s actually good. It feels like a magic trick, and Joss
Whedon’s feature film career is going to kick into a whole new gear after this.
I hope he stays involved in the Marvel universe on film, though, because no
matter how inevitable this film feels, it was anything but. It is impressive on a
business level, and from a general comic book fan’s perspective, but more than
anything, this is pure entertainment, with exceptional contributions from all
involved. The Avengers may not literally save the world, but they are a definite
reminder that you have to aim high and dream big if you want to do something
truly special.

PHASE TWO
Iron Man 3
dir. Shane Black
published April 24, 2013
HitFix

“I am Iron Man.”

That was Tony Stark’s big announcement at the end of 2008’s first film
in what has become one of the biggest franchises in the world, the cornerstone
of an even larger franchise called The Marvel Universe, a creative gamble that
has paid off in a huge way. In that moment, Stark, personified rather than
played by Robert Downey Jr., not only flipped the superhero formula on its
head by revealing his identity to the world but also announced himself as the
owner of the character. He’s now played Stark five times on film, and there is
no one who would argue that in terms of the pop consciousness, Downey is
Stark and vice-versa.

In Iron Man Three, as it’s written during the closing credits, Stark finds
himself genuinely tested by the Mandarin, a media-savvy terrorist, and a rival
businessman who is angling to take away Pepper Potts. From that simple
logline, Shane Black has spun my favorite of the standalone films about the
character, including the first film. I think Jon Favreau deserves all the credit in
the world for getting the entire thing off the ground, finding the right tone to
play everything at, creating a credible world that has now expanded in ways
that would have been unthinkable a mere five years ago.

What surprised and satisfied me most about Iron Man Three is just how
thematically tight it is. This is a film that overtly addresses the difference
between the suit and the person inside it, and not just in the case of Tony
Stark. This is a world where everyone seems to have a face they present to the
world and a secret face as well, and the tension between those identities is
what drives the movie. Tony’s simply the most pronounced version of how this
plays out, and in his case, one suit isn’t enough anymore. Since the events of
The Avengers, Tony has been manic about keeping himself safe and protecting
Pepper Potts (Gwenyth Paltrow), and he’s built several dozen new suits,
constantly tweaking and modifying. He has panic attacks at any mention of
what happened in New York or the wormhole he just barely survived. He is
barely holding himself together, and so when a new threat shows its face, he’s
not ready for it.

It’s almost shocking how much of a Shane Black film this is. I expected
him to play around a little but within something that felt like pretty much
every other Marvel movie. Instead, I recognize that this is firmly set within the
Marvel universe, but the story and the voice in which it’s told? Unmistakable.
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang fans in particular are going to find themselves howling at
the film’s framing device and at a few twists and turns in the detective
elements of the story. The result of this particular creative alchemy is a film
that suggests they are still just starting to figure out what to do with this
character, and I sincerely hope that the final credit of the film, “Tony Stark
Will Return,” is not just an empty promise.

In the film’s opening scenes, we flash back to New Year’s Eve, 1999,
when Stark was at a conference in Bern, accompanied by Happy Hogan (Jon
Favreau, decked out like Vincent Vega to hilarious effect). Both Maya Hansen
(Rebecca Hall) and Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce) are introduced in this
sequence, and Tony talks about how he created his own demons through his
actions on that evening. I often feel like the tenuous connections between the
heroes and the villains in superhero films are mere excuses to bring them
together, but in this script, co-written by Black and Drew Pearce, is about
cause and effect. We’ve seen Tony Stark grow quite a bit in these films so far,
and it makes perfect sense that the old Tony created the evil that finally lands
on him in this film.

The Mandarin is a hard villain to figure out for a modern movie, and one
of the real triumphs of the film is the way he’s been re-imagined here. He is a
media-age terrorist, every word and gesture designed to send a message, and
Ben Kingsley seems to relish every word he delivers in the film. It is a
surprisingly rounded performance, and there are some real surprises in the way
Kingsley approaches the character. Most of the film’s villains are realized very
well, with James Badge Dale and Stephanie Szostak both making strong
impressions as former soldiers who have been modified using the Extremis
technology that was developed by Killian. And while fans of the comics may
recognize character names or terms like “Extremis,” this is not a direct
adaptation of anything you’ve read in the comics, so don’t walk in expecting
that you know every detail of what you’re about to see.

A huge lesson seems to have been learned from Iron Man 2, and there is
basically nothing in this film that feels like they’re setting up any other movie.
There’s no shoe leather for The Avengers 2, there’s nothing that feels like a
commercial leading to Captain America 2 or Thor 2. Instead, it is a self-
contained story, intentionally isolating Stark and forcing him to solve a
problem without just leaning on his armor for once. I love movies where you
strip away all of a hero’s tools and leave him stranded, and I love movies where
you just wail on your main character and leave him dented and bloodied by the
end, and this is both of those. If you’ve seen any of the marketing materials for
the film, you’ve seen some footage of the attack on Tony’s house, and the set-
up for that is tremendous, as is the pay-off. What it does is force him
underground to plan his next move, and it makes him human. He can’t just
strap on his latest uber-weapon and break through the ceiling of the
Mandarin’s house, so he’s forced to become the best possible version of Tony
Stark again.

Gwenyth Paltrow absolutely has her best outing yet as Pepper, and she’s
got some of the movie’s best moments to her credit this time. My wife, as
active an Iron Man fangirl as I can imagine, audibly gasped three times in the
movie, and all three times involved Pepper. Paltrow is the one who gets to play
her part aware of just how outrageous everything around her is. Pepper has
never gotten used to the suits and the villains and the flying and the aliens and
the warfare, and she doesn’t want to get used to it. Stark recognizes that in her
and desperately needs it. It’s a very sweet relationship that offers up a lot of
natural fuel for the drama that underlines everything else in this film.

Likewise, Don Cheadle’s got some great stuff to work with this time, and
he seems to have such an easy rapport with Downey. For a Downey scene to
work, you have to give him someone who can punch at his weight, someone
nimble. Cheadle does it well. Paltrow does it well. Favreau absolutely loves
doing it. Ty Simpkins, so good in Insidious, plays a kid who runs into Tony at
his lowest point, and what could be a disgustingly syrupy relationship in the
wrong hands is actually very funny and does a nice job of reminding Tony
about humility. All of this is done at a gallop, though. This is by far the most
action-heavy of the Iron Man films, and thanks to the powers of the various
people modified by Extremis, it’s some big comic-book high-impact action. It
feels like Terminator 2 in terms of how rough it plays things, and I’m still not
sure if I’m taking my kids to see it. It gets serious, and the intensity of it is part
of what makes it great. It also helps that the script ties things up in a very
satisfying way, bringing the series full-circle both thematically and emotionally,
complete with a last line of dialogue that seems like the only way this film
could end.

As always, stay till the very very end of things, which is a pleasure in this
case thanks to a vibrant, upbeat closing-credits montage that looks like it
could have been the opening each week for a live-action series called Iron Man!
And Friends! (in color). It’s a little splash of awesome right there at the end. And
do your best to avoid any plot details for the movie. I’ve told you very little
here, and that’s by design. You’re not going to have your mind blown, but with
pulp this pure, you want to enjoy the ride the way it was designed. If this is
Shane Black as a blockbuster director, then bring on whatever’s next, and make
sure Iron Man 4, Iron Man 5, and Iron Man 6 are all on his “to-do” list as well.

Thor The Dark World

dir. Alan Taylor
published October 31, 2013
HitFix

Which one is harder, issue number one or issue number two of a comic
book?

In a first issue, you have to explain a premise. You have to set up a

world. You have to convince people to come back for a second issue. There’s a
lot of things that have to work, or there’s no reason for anyone to keep
reading. With a second issue, it seems like some of that pressure would be off,
but I feel like it might be the opposite. In many cases, it feels like the pressure
of finding the right second story to tell is difficult because every option is open
and there is no template for what a second issue has to be.
 Marvel struggled with Iron Man 2, easily the weakest of the Phase One
films they released. I think there are plenty of things to enjoy in Iron Man 2,
but I also think it’s a structural mess, and in many ways, it feels like little more
than a bridge between other films. This time around, the script by Christopher
Yost and Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely aims to tell an epic story
that introduces more of the Nine Realms than just Midgard (aka Earth) and
Asgard, and there are many things that the film gets right. In particular, I like
the way they mash up the science-fiction and fantasy elements in a way that
would probably make Jack Kirby tap-dance if he’d lived to see it.

Picking up as Thor is finally finishing the massive clean-up required after

Loki attempted his coup to grab control of Asgard, Thor: The Dark World looks
backwards for its set-up to the days where Bor (Tony Curran) was fighting a
war against the Dark Elves led by Malekith (Christopher Eccleston). He
managed to lead the forces of Asgard to victory, and they took the weapon
that was developed by Malekith, the Aether, and hid it somewhere. Odin was
raised to believe that all of the Dark Elves were killed, but very quickly in this
film, it becomes clear that simply isn’t true.

The Aether is really only valuable during The Convergence, which is an

event where all Nine Realms line up perfectly. And since that’s about to
happen again, it’s time for Malekith to show back up, claim the Aether, and
destroy the universe. And while that all sounds suitably dramatic, it’s sort of
not. Malekith is a non-entity as a character. He walks around, says a few
vaguely threatening films, and basically watches special effects happen around
him.. His second-in-command, Algrim (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), may be
transformed into the creepy-looking Kurse at one point in the film, but he is
equally bland as a character. There’s nothing to him. He delivers maybe three
lines of dialogue before he’s turned into a giant monster, which seems like a
waste of a really fun actor.

There’s a whole lot of threads from both Thor and The Avengers to
service, and that makes Thor: The Dark World feel very busy in places. The
relationship between Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) and Thor (Christopher
Hemsworth) was left up in the air after the first film, and there’s a lot of
attention paid here to the way characters feel about that relationship without
really grappling with the relationship itself. It’s clear that Odin does not want
Thor to be with a mortal, and Loki openly mocks Thor for caring about a
human who will be gone in less than 100 years, what Loki calls “a heartbeat.”
Even Lady Sif (Jaimie Alexander), who looks enough like Natalie Portman to
suggest that Thor has a very, very, very specific type, is obviously upset to see
him pining away over someone else.

In addition, the script struggles mightily to give Erik Selvig (Stellan

Skarsgard) and Darcy (Kat Dennings) enough to do. Dennings scores huge
laughs several times in the film, and I haven problem with her presence here.
She is very enjoyable and seems to be having fun. I’m just not sure it makes
organic sense to shoe-horn her back into this particular story.

Perhaps the film’s biggest issue is something that seems like a Catch-22
for Marvel, in that they spend a lot of time with Loki in this film, even though
he’s not the star of the film. Marvel knows full well that Loki is a fan favorite,
and it feels like they lean on that pretty hard. He’s got some great scenes, and
Hiddleston is once again terrific playing the part, but there are definitely
places where it feels like the filmmakers are more interested in him than they
are in Thor.

In addition, the structure of the film is odd. Right around the time it
feels like things are about to kick into high gear, the movie ends. So much time
is spent moving chess pieces into place that when they do finally finish setting
everything up, the movie’s done. I feel like the Warriors Three are sidelined
more aggressively here than they were in the first movie, and watching
someone waste Ray Stevenson or Alexander or even new cast member Zachary
Levi as Fandral, when they’re all obviously so eager to play, is a mistake.

There are strong action sequences, I love the way they’ve expanded the
world and redesigned Asgard, and I still think the cast is pretty much perfectly
suited for the roles they’re playing. Rene Russo gets one really nice moment
here, and I think Portman’s chemistry with Hemsworth is very charming
throughout. Of all of the Marvel heroes that the studio has in the movie
rotation right now, Thor is the only one where the love interest actually seems
to generate some real heat between the leads. I thought Haley Atwell was great
in Captain America, but there’s something disarmingly carnal about the looks
that Jane Foster gives Thor after he flies her through the Bifrost or beats the
hell out of a crazy monster in front her.
 You can see some of the scars left by post-production tinkering with the
picture, including some last-minute reshoots, but for many audiences, the
slicker overall look of the film will smooth out many of the film’s rougher
moments. Make sure you stay for not one but two post-movie scenes, one
during the credits and one after, and it’s safe to say that the last ten minutes of
this film sets Thor 3 into motion, lays out part of the game for the rest of Phase
Two and possibly even The Avengers 3, and gives us our first look at one of the
next big Marvel gambles. That’s a lot to pack into a very short time, and it
seems symptomatic of the film as a whole.

Is it possible to be both overstuffed and too slight? If so, that’s Thor: The
Dark World in a nutshell.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

dir. Joe and Anthony Russo
published March 21, 2014
HitFix

First and foremost, Captain America: The Winter Soldier is the best action
film out of the entire Marvel movie universe so far, bar none. Just in terms of
sheer impact and choreography and execution and clarity of geography and did
I mention impact because DAMN.

If that is all that this film did well, that would be enough for me to
recommend it. Beyond that, though, Captain America: The Winter Soldier is a
tremendous piece of pop entertainment, smart and engaging and featuring a
home run movie star lead performance by Chris Evans and the best overall
supporting cast in one of the Marvel movies in terms of everybody having
something significant to do and everyone being written for to a degree where
they're playing people and not just types. Written by Christopher Markus &
Stephen McFeely, this movie hits the ground running, literally, in a great scene
where Steve Rogers (Evans) meets Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), a former
member of a para-rescue unit who now works at the VA hospital. In one quick
moment, they dispense with any need for fish out of water jokes and they
introduce the notion that Steve is struggling with the bigger issues that affect
him as a man out of time. He is having his doubts about the work he does for
S.H.I.E.L.D., and in the film's first big set-piece, we see just how wet that work
actually is.

They made a smart choice to have Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow
aka Scarlett Johansson paired up with Cap for most of the movie. She's got a
different perspective on the kind of work they do, and a very different
backstory, and contrasting the heroism of these two as well as the methods
creates an interesting tension, especially once things really start getting crazy.
In that first big set-piece, there are two totally different threads being
followed. First, there's the actual mission, in which they're supposed to
liberate a S.H.I.E.L.D. boat that has been seized by pirates led by Georges
Batroc (Georges St-Pierre) and rescue the hostages aboard, particularly Jasper
Sitwell (Maximiliano Hernandez). Watching Cap move through the boat,
taking out pretty much the entire crew single-handedly, it's obvious right away
that directors Joe and Anthony Russo have a knack for not just comic book
action in particular, but the close-up bone-breaking kind. Captain America is a
wrecking crew in this film. He isn't shy about using a throwing knife or pretty
much shattering a sternum with a strike of his shield. He doesn't pull his
punches. He's got a mission, and when it comes down to it, the strike team
that was sent with him, including Brock Lumlow (Frank Grillo) and Jack
Rollins (Callan Mulvey), pull the triggers and put the pirates down.

The other thread is a playful but genuine banter in which Natasha is

trying to figure out who she can set Steve up with, because she's convinced
that he needs that connection. They play it for the laughs, but there's
something real underneath it, and it's interesting that Natasha simply isn't an
option herself. It seems like the easy lazy choice would be to play their
relationship as a possible romantic or sexual entanglement, but they don't even
hint at that. After all, Steve's feelings about Peggy Carter (Haley Atwell) are
still fresh for him, and if there's anything that haunts him, it is the loss of an
entire life with her. Evans and Johansson have great chemistry, and any scene
that is just the two of them talking is a winner.

There's not much time for that, though. When they get back to DC, it's
apparent that Natasha was sent to retrieve more than the hostages, and
whatever she took from the boat sets off a chain of events that manages to
snare Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson playing the biggest role he's had in any
Marvel film so far), Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders), and as Alexander Pierce, the
guy above Fury in the chain of command, no less than Robert freakin'
Redford, who brings his A-game. This is not a case of someone dropping by to
pick up a paycheck. Pierce is a real character, and Redford's really good playing
him.

If you want to go in relatively spoiler-free, stop here. Suffice it to say the

scale of the film is impressive, the action is relentless, and the plot manages to
genuinely shake the power structure of the entire Marvel movie universe. This
is not a film designed to maintain the status quo. It is a film full of big choices
that will have a big impact on every other film that's still in the works. The
Russos turn out to be an inspired choice, and the end result is a film that ranks
very near the top of the list out of any of the films made by Marvel Studios so
far.

Without giving the whole game away, it's safe to describe this as a story
in which no one is who they seem, and the entire history of the Marvel movie
universe so far is thrown into question. This is very much a direct sequel to the
first Captain America film, and it feels like this movie pays off legwork that's
been done in a number of the films so far. We see characters like Senator Stern
(Garry Shandling) again, and we're forced to re-examine who they are and what
their motives may have been in earlier films. I'm fascinated by the idea that
Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to have to address the events of this
movie, because there's no way they can simply keep things rolling along on the
show the way they have been so far. No way. It's not possible. So many big
cards are flipped over by this film that it's going to send major ripples through
that show, and it may end up completely subverting the meaning of that title.

I really like what they give Nick Fury to play in this film, and I feel like
Jackson knows they're giving him some real meat this time. He is great in the
film, and watching Fury have to deal with no longer being the man pulling all
the strings is interesting. It makes him feel like a character finally instead of an
exposition delivery device. Emily VanCamp joins the franchise as Sharon
Carter, who has a complicated history with Captain America in the comics,
and who is established here as someone of substance, someone worth bringing
back in future films. The same is true of Sam Wilson, and when he is finally
revealed as The Falcon, it's very cool and very grounded. It doesn't feel like a
sudden left turn into a different film. It also gives the Russos an opportunity to
stage some action scenes that take place on three or four different planes at
once, and it's dynamic and aggressive and very effective.
 And what about The Winter Soldier? Well, they make sure in this film
to underline just how important Bucky Barnes was to Steve Rogers, and there
are a few nice moments that fill in more details from the pre-Captain America
days, including a solid scene with skinny nerdy Steve Rogers again. When the
Winter Soldier shows up, he is a figure of genuine menace, and he is incredibly
powerful. He and Captain America are a genuine match, and in many ways, it
feels like the Winter Soldier is better at what he does. It makes it interesting
and tense every time they have to clash in the film. He's not scared of Captain
America at all, and he's not the sort of guy who does subtle. When he goes into
kill mode, he's a force of nature, and it's really harrowing.

There are two post-credits scenes here. The first was directed by Joss
Whedon, and it's basically a direct bridge to the opening sequence of Avengers:
Age Of Ultron, introducing Baron Von Strucker (Thomas Kretschman) and two
other new characters, and they both look awesome. Then there's a scene at the
very end of the entire film that simply puts a nice button on this film's story.
Make sure you stay for both, though.

The only real hesitation I have about this is the same problem that I had
during Iron Man 3. Once you've established that Thor and Captain America
and Iron Man and the Hulk all exist in the same world (and this movie goes
out of its way to introduce the name “Stephen Strange” for the very first time),
then you can't help but wonder why Captain America can't reach out to Tony
Stark for help with something. There's a moment in the film where Steve and
Natasha turn to Sam Wilson for help and they explain, “Everyone we know is
trying to kill us.” Well, that's not true. Tony Stark's not trying to kill you, and
he seems like he'd be a great resource. If I read Kevin Feige's comments last
year when Iron Man 3 came out correctly, this film is meant to be taking place
at the same time as that film, and so we're meant to see that each of them is
too busy to help the other, but since neither film explicitly states this, it just
comes across as this nagging frustration. I understand that you want to save
the team-ups for the Avengers films, but it would be nice to at least
acknowledge that there's a reason you can't bring them all together to solve
this problem.

There are some genuine questions about our own current surveillance
state raised by the film, but it doesn't feel like someone shoe-horned in a
political metaphor as it did with Star Trek Into Darkness, where Robert Orci's
obsession with “false flags” turned into a plot that simply doesn't make sense
when you start to take it apart. This film is tightly plotted, and when the final
threat is revealed, it's a genuinely ugly, scary idea. If this is how Marvel plans to
handle Captain America films moving forward, I hope we get 50 more of them.

Once again, make mine Marvel. Captain America: The Winter Soldier is a
huge success for them on a story level, and a fascinating provocation to anyone
making Marvel movies set after this one.

Guardians of the Galaxy

dir. James Gunn
published July 24, 2014
HitFix

I've had several people ask me now if I think Guardians Of The Galaxy is
the best of the Marvel movies so far. That's a hard question to answer, because
I think there are many different things that I look for in a film, and none of
the Marvel movies scratch the exact same itch.

What's safe to say is that Guardians Of The Galaxy is the most charming
Marvel movie so far. The primary ensemble (Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave
Bautista, Bradley Cooper, and Vin Diesel) is perhaps the most winning group
of characters they've introduced in any of these movies so far, and while it's
hard to figure out their dynamic when you just read their names together or
even in clips, by the end of the film, this is a family that I would happily follow
through any number of movies. I'm not sure I've ever seen a film in which
every major character steals every scene from every other major character, but
that's exactly what happens here. As my oldest son said as we were driving
home from the film and he was trying to list all of his favorite parts of the
movie, “It's like they're all good parts!”

Indeed. It is a movie of all good parts.

While I suspected that James Gunn would get the action right and I
knew he would crush it with the humor, what surprised me most about this
film was the heart. The opening sequence may not be quite as devastating as
Pixar's Up, but it comes close, and it sets up a number of ideas that are paid off
throughout the movie. We see young Peter Quill (Wyatt Oleff) in a hospital
where his mother (Laura Haddock) lies dying. I loved seeing Gregg Henry
show up in a brief role as Peter's grandfather, and the entire scene is very sad.
Peter's already acting as if his mother is gone, angry and withdrawn, and by the
end of the sequence, everything has changed for him in a number of ways, and
we jump forward to discover Peter Quill as an adult, played now by Chris
Pratt. He's landing on an alien planet, where he has reason to believe he will
find an artifact that will fetch him a huge payday
from an interested bidder.

If you're not onboard by the end of the opening title sequence,

Guardians Of The Galaxy may not be for you. I think it does a spectacular job of
setting a tone and a sense of humor and a sensibility for the film, mixing real
space opera, outrageous humor, and a sweetness that I think is part of who
James Gunn is as a person. Sure, this is the guy who made Slither and Super, and
who started his career at Troma, and he may love filthy, filthy, filthy jokes, but
there is a decency to these characters and this film that speaks to who Gunn
really is. There's something perverse about a movie featuring a band of space
criminals who all end up being positively adorable, and from that opening title
sequence to the enchanting final pre-credits shot, it's apparent that Gunn
adores these characters.

Let's offer up a few criticisms. There is a familiar form that Marvel films
are starting to take, narrative wise. Introduce a doodad. Establish that the
doodad does something powerful. Everyone chases the doodad around.
Doodad does its thing. Heroes. Bad guys. Light show. Here's a billion dollars.
It's getting familiar, and Guardians is built on that same narrative spine. I think
they do it well, and there's a scene in the middle of the movie that suddenly
drops perhaps the single biggest puzzle piece in the overall Marvel movie
universe into place, offering up a connective perspective that should allow even
the most casual of viewers to suddenly understand the bigger picture a little
better, but there's no denying that it is a familiar shape for these films.

It's also probably true that the bad guys in the film get slighted a bit, no
doubt a function of Gunn having so much fun with the good guys. I think
Ronan The Accuser (Lee Pace) is visually striking, but barely a character. He
has one truly great scene in the film, and a few good moments, but he's a visual
marker more than he's a character. Sadly, the same is true of Nebula (Karen
Gillan), who is one of the most arresting designs for a villain since Darth Maul,
but who is basically kept pacing at the side of things until the last fifteen or
twenty minutes. I like everything she does, but there's not nearly enough of it.
By far, the most interesting villain is one that we only meet for one scene, but
if this is how they plan to handle Thanos (Josh Brolin) moving forward, then
I'm excited. He's very strange, very clearly not just someone in make-up, and
I'd love to see him carry more of a movie.

Having said all of that, I still think this is one of Marvel's most
successful films because of how enormously winning the Guardians themselves
are. From the first scene where Rocket (Cooper) and Groot (Diesel) encounter
Gamora (Saldana) and Quill, there is such an immediate easy rapport that it
feels like they've already made 20 films together. They end up in The Kyln, a
bizarre space prison where they come into contact with Drax The Destroyer
(Bautista), who is sworn to kill Thanos and his children for what happened to
his family. He is happy to include Ronan on his list of targets, and sees the
appearance of Gamora as a chance to make that happen.

You probably shouldn't know anything else about the story than that.
We get to meet various members of the Nova Corps, we visit a number of
planets, there is a spectacularly weird trip to the home of The Collector
(Benicio Del Toro), and there's a running subplot about Yondu (Michael
Rooker) and the rest of the Ravagers that is very funny. We also learn quite a
bit about each of our broken leads, and it is that very quality that binds them
together. Rocket is bitter about the experimentation that created him. Drax
wants revenge for his family. Quill misses Earth and he blames himself for how
things ended with his mother. Gamora is not the real daughter of Thanos, but
rather a trophy claimed in battle, one who is ready to turn her back on him in
order to do the right thing. Each of them has some damage they are looking to
repair, whether they realize it or not.

Pratt emerges here as a full-blown movie star. He is funny, he is

genuinely heroic, and he is touching as he struggles to become the man he has
been pretending to be. Saldana does typically strong work, shading Gamora
with a richer inner life than would seem possible at first glance. For me,
Bautista is the film's most delicious surprise. He is hilarious, and there are
some really weird choices he makes as an actor that end up paying off
magnificently. From now on, he should be thought of as an actor first, a
wrestler second. Bradley Cooper's take on Rocket Raccoon has already set off
some controversy in the HitFix offices, but I really love that he's not remotely
cute or overtly funny. Rocket is an angry, unhappy little creature, and he gets
his feelings hurt easily. Cooper plays the emotional truth of Rocket first, and
any other reaction you have to him comes from that truth. And then there's
Groot, a miracle of fantastic animation and a beautiful vocal interpretation by
Vin Diesel. If Pratt's the real-life movie start here, then Groot is the breakout
character. He ends up conveying so much heart, so much fascinating emotion,
that it's hard to believe he only speaks four words in the film.

Visually, it's a beautiful film. Ben Davis shoots the film in a way that is
both colorful and bright and yet moody and at times very creepy. Charles
Wood's production design shines here, and in a post-Alien/post-Star Wars
world, it can be very difficult to create something that has that lived-in worn
out well-used feel without also being derivative, but I think they've done it.
Groot and Rocket are both completely successful as characters, effortlessly
real. I look forward to seeing Rocket eventually trading dialogue with Tony
Stark, just like I look forward to seeing what Captain America would make of
Groot. These characters belong in the Marvel movie universe.

For parents, be aware that the language is a little saltier than your
average Marvel movie. Young kids will be delighted and they'll feel like they
got away with something. There's one joke that you will be asked to explain
and you will wisely refuse completely. But this is a family film in the sense that
it explores just what it is that defines family, and how important it is at a
certain point for us to pick our families and not just accept the ones we were
given. It is smart, it is funny, and it has a massive heart. It's also the most
overtly romantic of the Marvel movies, and if you see it with someone you feel
squishy about, it's that much more enjoyable.

This is a ride that I'll be taking many more times in the theater this
summer, and somewhere right now, the kid who introduced me to Rocket
Raccoon back in the mid-'80s is a grown man who is going to sit in a theater,
dumbfounded to see this character brought to such vivid life. For him, and for
anyone who believes that Marvel is building one of the best stables of
characters anywhere, Guardians Of The Galaxy is a delight.

And, yes, all those songs are in the movie, and yes, they are perfect.
Avengers: Age of Ultron
dir. Joss Whedon
published April 21, 2015
HitFix

When Joss Whedon took the job as director of The Avengers, he had a
specific challenge to overcome. Even after the success of the individual movies
featuring Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America, it seemed like a nearly
impossible task, juggling so many giant personalities in one coherent story.

Now the challenge is very different for him as writer/director, because

he's following up one of the biggest films of all time, and he's also laying
groundwork for the entire next phase of movies in the Marvel Cinematic
Universe. The last time a director found himself in a similar position with
Marvel was Jon Favreau on Iron Man 2, and it's interesting to see the ways
Whedon has responded differently, and the ways in which he's fallen into some
of the same traps. Make no mistake… Avengers: Age Of Ultron is both a better
film and a better sequel than Iron Man 2, but I think it's clear at this point that
as long as Marvel continues to build one large interlocked continuity, there are
certain stumbling blocks that they will continue to face with the movies.

There is a ton of material to enjoy in Age Of Ultron for fans of each of the
characters to enjoy, and for the first time, it feels like everything, from the
heroes to the villains to the plotting, all serves a single theme. On that level,
Age Of Ultron is a fairly impressive piece of work. Whedon has managed to
bring all of these characters to a crisis point at the same time, and then set
them up against a nearly impossible threat, and it's obvious that what he wants
most is to see what happens to the Avengers after they've been pushed to this
particular breaking point. And the action in the film is, honestly, some of the
most direct-from-the-comics comic-book action ever captured on film. In the
moments where it all comes together, like the sure-to-be-iconic Hulkbuster
sequence, this is the very model of what Marvel's been chasing since day one.

While I enjoyed Iron Man 3, its existence makes much of Tony Stark's
journey in this film feel like a stutter. At the start of this film, Tony is still
preoccupied with creating suits that can do the job of Iron Man without the
man inside. The problem is that none of the robots are truly capable of
thought or judgment, so they can't be the permanent solution that Tony is
searching for.

The film opens as in-media-res as possible, with the Avengers launching

an attack against the castle where Baron Von Strucker (Thomas Kretschmann)
has been developing new HYDRA weapons and conducting the biological
experiments we saw hinted at in the final moments of Captain America: The
Winter Soldier. What's fun about the way Whedon handles the Avengers in the
action sequences now is that he makes sure to come up with new ways to play
with their powers, both individually and as a team. It's not just punch, punch,
punch, and there are some big laugh-out-loud gags.

Once they run into Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen) and Pietro (Aaron Taylor-
Johnson), though, they find themselves tested in a whole new way. Wanda has
the power to reach into people's minds and bring out the fears she finds there,
making them seem real. She is a bad trip, and when she reaches into Tony
Stark's mind, what she finds there is this yawning fear that he's still dealing
with, caused when the sky above New York opened and an alien army spilled
out. He got a glimpse at the other side of that hole in the sky, and he's afraid
of what happens next time. He feels like it was luck that saved the day, and he
is determined to remove chance from the equation.

I don't want to start to pull the story apart until you have a chance to see
the film, so you can expect an in-depth post-release piece, like we've done with
some of these films in the past. There's an entire character I am reluctant to
discuss. Right now, there's still a lot of press that hasn't even had a chance to
see the movie, and it's going to start rolling out in overseas theaters starting
tomorrow, so spoilers will be everywhere. Just not here.

Instead, I'll say that the things that work best for me in this film are the
human moments. There's a knock-out scene between Natasha (Scarlett
Johansson) and Bruce (Mark Ruffalo) in the middle of the film that's just a
conversation, but it's one of the most electric moments in the film. It could
only come now, this far into the series, because we've had time with these
people, and we've got a sense of history that can be played with. It feels like
Whedon decided to go overboard making it up to Jeremy Renner for writing
him as a mind-controlled zombie for most of the first film, and the result is
one of the best character arcs in the film. Hawkeye emerges as a fully-formed
personality this time, and he's enormously enjoyable. I expect fans will be vocal
about him and about everything that happens between Natasha and Bruce, and
that there will be phone-books full of fan fiction picking up the threads that
are laid out in the film.

Whedon's use of Wanda and Pietro is also interesting. I think he gets

the most value out of each of them that he can, and he writes them as
characters first, not as good guys or bad guys. They are self-interested,
certainly, but who isn't? That's ultimately the question facing each of these
characters… what is more important? Their own personal agendas or the
agenda of the Avengers? And can those two things always co-exist? Pretty
much every terrible thing that happens in the film happens because someone
tries to do something good, and in one of Whedon's nicest moves as a writer,
when someone tries to do something very, very bad, it leads to perhaps one the
most dramatic acts of good in the entire Marvel movie saga so far.

By the end of the film, things do not look the same for anyone in the
film, and that certainly leaves a number of potential threads to be explored.
But to some extent, it makes this feel like the middle of something. Yes, the
Ultron story is told from start to finish here, and I think it features some really
interesting ideas that will continue to resonate through the rest of these
movies, but for most of the other characters, this is transition more than
anything else. There's one character's fate that can be inferred from certain
dialogue clues and from one shot in particular that should inspire spirited
debate for a while, and that can be fun. But too much of that simply makes this
feel like a very big episode of a TV show.

When I say “very big,” by the way, I mean, “big on a scale that few films
would attempt.” This is a movie that is almost exhaustingly large-scale, and
Ultron's ultimate plan involves a crazy visual idea that Whedon makes sort of
beautiful and eerie. It's got so much action that I'm going to bet some
audiences go numb after a while. But in scene after scene, there are beats and
stunts and poses that suggest that an army of comic book fanatics worked on
this movie, and as someone who has been reading comics for roughly forty
years now, I find it kind of amazing that we have come to this point, where
we're seeing things like this on a movie screen, and this is mainstream
entertainment. This is this summer's biggest movie, and it is as weird as
anything Marvel's made so far when you look at it with any sort of remove.
 Anyone who enjoyed Avengers is going to be mightily entertained by
Avengers: Age Of Ultron, and hardcore fans are going to be able to spend the
next year trying to pull this apart for clues, but as a film, it feels like it is
constantly just on the verge of getting away from the filmmakers. While
there's no post-credits scene, stay for the mid-credits sting that tells you
exactly what the drive is going to be between this film and the next time the
Avengers come together. If this one feels like it was hard to manage, that one
should be positively massive as both challenge and, if successful, payoff.

And based on this one, I can see why Whedon tapped out.

Avengers: Age of Ultron second-look

dir. Joss Whedon
published May 13, 2015 and May 19, 2015
HitFix

“Ultron thinks we're monsters. This isn't just about beating him. It's about
whether he's right.”
- Captain America

When I went back tonight for my second look at Avengers: Age Of

Ultron, I honestly didn't know what to expect. It feels like it's been months
since I saw the film for the first time, and most of my personal hard drive has
been taken up with thoughts of Mad Max: Fury Road since I saw it. That's not
a slam on Joss Whedon or his work on the Avengers sequel, either. It's just that
Fury Road pushed a button in me that no other film has in quite a while, and
it's easy for me to get full-on obsessed with a film I love.

What struck me most about Ultron on second viewing is that the script
for the movie is thematically robust, and my problems with the movie were far
less pronounced watching it again. For one thing, I really looked at the details
of the big set pieces in the film, and I believe this may be one of the most
interesting attempts yet at translating the sort of action that exists in comic
books to the bigscreen. It's also the most ambitious film yet in the Marvel
Cinematic Universe, and while I think the film has some problems, I would
rather see ambition thwarted than complacency rewarded.
 One thing that has become clear to me when reading some of the
reactions to this film is that people have seized on small details in order to
stoke outrage, and in almost every case, taking a step back and looking at
context makes all the difference in the world. There are certainly plenty of
things that are open for interpretation in the film, but I think trying to use
anything in this to attack Joss Whedon for sexism is spectacularly wrong-
headed.

Whatever other terms you want to use to describe Age Of Ultron is,
“anti-feminist” is not an accurate one.

Let's back up, take a look at the entire text, and start pulling apart the
details to see if Whedon managed to pull together the various themes and
character arcs that he establishes in the film, or if Age Of Ultron proved to be
too much to digest for the writer/director. It's often best to try to pull a film
apart when you're removed from the hype of the initial release, and I think
that's definitely true of Ultron.

Like Pixar, Marvel has become a target for reasons both earned and
unearned. They are so good at what they do that when they fumble something
on any level, there are people ready to swoop in and punish them
disproportionately. People are actively rooting for an overt failure from these
creative teams precisely because they have so few failures of any kind on their
records. People get angry or resentful when confronted with success on a level
that is enormously difficult to attain because we are so very fallible. It is human
to fail, so it goes to follow that it is inhuman to never fail.

“Shit.”
“Language.”
- Tony Stark and Steve Rogers

One of the benefits of a sequel, particularly this far into several series of
interconnecting films, is that they can start things in media res, and you don't
get more in media res than this. Because Whedon didn't have to make any
other movies between the first and the second Avengers, he was able to keep a
very particular focus, and this feels like it is a direct sequel to that movie. Sure,
there are story threads that played out in other places, and I would argue that
there's no way you can really call all of these movies “stand-alone” series. But
Whedon is concerned with the impact of the events in The Avengers
specifically, and that's clear from the very first shot of the film, which is Loki's
staff. Last time we saw it was at the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier,
when it was being used by Baron Von Strucker (Thomas Kretschmann). That's
also where we saw two people in side-by-side cells, one of them blurring and
moving at super-speeds, the other glowing with some unearthly red energy.
The second shot of the film finds the two of them side by side, Pietro (Aaron
Taylor-Johnson) and Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen), waiting to see if they're going
to be part of the mayhem.

The mayhem in question is taking place outside, where the Avengers

have arrived, ready to reclaim Loki's staff and put an end to HYDRA stragglers
under Strucker's command. One of the things I love about Ultron is that the
characters have become far more comfortable with their own powers, and with
the ways they can use each other to be even stronger. Whedon's superhero
action is exemplary here, and it feels like a lifetime of comic book fandom
being expressed in one crazy gag after another. I love the little tweaks, like the
magnetic back to Cap's glove that allows him to recall the shield or the way
Hulk “takes care of” a bunker or the greater variety in arrows that Hawkeye
uses. Whedon's main trick as a writer (and I say “trick” with all love and
affection) is balancing outrageous situations or imagery with very mundane and
normal dialogue, and he has fun playing all of the characters off of each other
here. Even anonymous henchmen earn laughs, like when Tony takes out a
room full of guys as he first breaks in. There is a confidence to both the
characters and Whedon that is clear from this long opening sequence.

The money shot is one long move that introduces every single character
in motion and in action. It's obviously a whole series of set-ups blended using
trickery, but the way it builds until it finally freeze frames on the entire team
lined up, jumping or flying or charging together, is enormously entertaining.
Whedon hasn't lost sight of the underlying job of anyone making an Avengers
film, which is to entertain. What makes him so canny as a filmmaker is the way
he uses that entertainment to disguise the mechanical moving parts that are
required to make something as gigantic as Age Of Ultron work. He has fun with
the introduction of Quicksilver, the way he frustrates Hawkeye, the way he
knocks Captain America down. Pietro is fighting the Avengers, true, but he's
enjoying it. It's a chance for him to see what he can do, and he takes great
pleasure in stretching those muscles.
 As the fight starts winding down, we get the first scene between Bruce
Banner aka The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) and Natasha Romanoff, played once
more by Scarlett Johansson. There is a new ritual that the two of them have
devised to calm the Hulk down enough to allow him to change back to
Banner-form, which they refer to as “The Lullaby.” It's interesting that they're
the ones who have formed a deeper bond. In the first film, she was the person
Nick Fury sent to bring Banner in. They were the ones involved in that scary
scene in the middle of the film where he attacks her on the Helicarrier. They
have a strange history, but it seems that it's led them to a connection and a
trust. For Black Widow to walk up to the Hulk in the middle of battle and put
her hand out to him, unarmed, not trying to fight, it requires her to trust him
implicitly. It works, and Banner reverts to himself in time for the return trip
home.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark finds the room where there is a full Leviathan
from The Avengers hanging, on display for study, and where Loki's staff is
waiting. It's also where we get our first look at Wanda's powers in action. All
she has to do is touch Tony, and he's off and running on a powerful
hallucination. The Leviathan comes to life and starts to move around the
room. Tony sees the rest of the team, broken and dead on a battlefield, and it's
clear that Tony is still grappling with the fear he's been feeling since he got his
glimpse of the other side of that wormhole. One of the things I found really
interesting in Iron Man 3 was the PTSD angle, and I wish they'd done a better
job fully exploring that. It's still affecting him here, and his fear is the thing
that drives the movie as a whole. This entire trip started with Tony Stark and
his uneasy feelings about his legacy as an arms manufacturer, and here we are,
on the other side of legions of dead bodies, both good and bad, and Stark's still
worried about his impact on the people around him.

My favorite touch in the entire opening sequence comes as Tony snaps

out of his trip. He puts on his Iron Man glove and heads for Loki's staff. Pietro
rejoins Wanda and asks incredulously, “Are you just going to let them take it?”

Wanda's only response is a smile, and that smile implies that she's
excited to see just how wrong things can go. And as Tony grabs the staff with
his gauntlet and raises it, the film smash cuts to the title finally, everything laid
out and in place for the catastrophe to come.
 “Peace in our time. Imagine that.”
- Tony Stark

Trust is a huge part of the puzzle this time around. As they're flying back
after the opening raid, we see Banner and how much it takes out of him to
become the Hulk. He's emotionally hammered flat by it, and all he wants is
personal peace. As he talks to Nat, it's clear that she is the person who can do
the Lullaby because she is the one with the strongest bond to him. They're as
close as he's capable of being with anyone. At one point, she asks him how
long it will be until he trusts her, and he replies, “It's not you I don't trust.” I
think all of the Avengers are struggling with issues of trust in the film, and
Whedon goes out of his way to illustrate just how hard it is for these people to
be who they are.

Tony may not trust his team to be able to stop the sorts of threat that he
saw on the other side of the wormhole, but he does trust Jarvis, the computer
program that has been his companion and right-hand man since the first Iron
Man in 2008. There's a bumper sticker in the Quinjet that reads “Jarvis Is My
Co-Pilot,” and while that's a good joke, it's also indicative of just how heavily
Tony leans on Jarvis. We see the Iron Legion returning to Avengers Tower at
the same time that the Avengers are returning, and we see the Avengers taking
stock of what the human cost was of their attack. Clint Barton (Jeremy
Renner) took a pretty nasty hit at one point, and they go to work replacing his
skin with a synthetic graft. Natasha makes the first of many jokes in the film
about Barton's place on the team, saying, “Pretending we need this guy really
brings the team together,” and that comment is part of what makes Hawkeye
such a pivotal player this time around. If Whedon was trying to make up for
sidelining him for most of the first film, then mission accomplished, because
Clint is a big part of the movie.

If there is anyone I would listen to when trying to give warnings about

the dangers of messing around with science, it would be Bruce Banner. He is
such a direct illustration of what can go wrong that they might as well have
called him The Consequences. He makes a great foil for Tony because they are
equally quick-witted, but they are radically different people. Tony's arrogance
masks a fairly deep well of fear, while Bruce's amiable calm is a cover for the
rage that he is constantly struggling to control. Tony is looking for fixes for his
own fear because he can't keep putting himself in harm's way. He appeals to
Bruce's own fears in trying to sway him to the idea of using the gemstone of
the staff to jumpstart the Ultron program that Tony's been writing. When
they show the 3D hologram schematic of the gemstone and they see that it's
basically an intelligence, that's one more case of Marvel blending the
technological with the magical, something they've been emphasizing since
Thor. The Science Bros. end up giving some good montage as they try to make
Ultron work, then finally set it aside to enjoy some hard-earned relaxation with
some invited guests. As Tony's leaving the lab, there's a little throwaway
exchange. Jarvis tells Tony to enjoy himself, and Tony replies, “I always do.”
What would have been a genuine expression of arrogance in the first Iron Man
rings hollow here, though. This Tony Stark doesn't seem to enjoy much of
anything. He's too haunted by thoughts of his own failures.

“Avenging is your world, and your world is crazy.”

- Sam Wilson

Ultron's birth scene is intercut with the party at Avengers Tower, and
during the entire thing, Whedon is laying down important character and story
information. It's crucial that Jarvis is there at Ultron's birth, that he's part of
it, because of how the film ultimately ends. From the very start, Ultron sounds
prickly and imperfect and alive. His awakening is violent and from the moment
he draws his first virtual breath, he is furious, lashing out.
Meanwhile, you've got the superheroes relaxing and making jokes and telling
stories. Rhodey (Don Cheadle) gets frustrated when none of the other heroes
are impressed by his stories, which is both hilarious and appropriate. War
Machine is such a reflection of Iron Man that it must be constantly frustrating
to him to have to live up to whatever image Tony projects. Sam Wilson
(Anthony Mackie) seems perfectly happy to just deal with human-scale
problems, though, telling Steve (Chris Evans) that he couldn't be a member of
the team.

One of the more interesting interludes at the party is between Bruce and
Natasha, and here's where context matters. I've seen people complaining
about the Black Widow serving as the bartender to all of the men, and I'm
baffled how someone could read the scene that way. You see everyone making
drinks at different points during the party. Thor's carrying around a flask of
1000-year-old alcohol, and the rest of the team seems to provide for
themselves just fine. When Natasha steps behind the bar, it's so she can make
two drinks. One of them is for her, and the other is for Bruce. She is quite
clear in this conversation that she has strong feelings for Bruce, and he is
equally clear that he has no idea how to handle that information. I particularly
like the advice that Steve gives to Bruce. “As the world's leading authority on
waiting too long, don't. You both deserve a win.” I am a firm believer, and
more so with each passing year, that any time you make that connection with
someone, you have to fight to protect and enjoy it. It is precious, and it cannot
be taken for granted. This isn't about puppy love, either, or infatuation.
There's something very real between Bruce and Natasha, and that's the reason
she is able to reach him, no matter how deeply buried he is in the Hulk.

The scene in which each of the Avengers take turns trying to lift Thor's
hammer is a marvel in the way it lays out character and also sets up one of the
film's biggest reveals. The entire notion of “worthy” is part of the film's theme,
and it's telling that even the purest of heart of the Avengers, Steve Rogers, is
unable to lift Mjolnir. I particularly like the way Natasha shrugs it off with,
“Oh, no, no. That's not a question I need answered.” Natasha knows exactly
how awesome she is in combat, and has no driving need to prove herself in a
superficial manner. One of the reasons Natasha is in no danger of driving the
Avengers off the rails is because she would never feel that masculine ego-driven
need to assert herself as the alpha.

Ultron's intrusion into the party is creepy, and it leads to a flurry of

combat, but it's basically just an announcement. Ultron makes it clear that
Tony is his father, and then he and the newly activated Iron Legion grab Loki's
staff and take off with it, infuriating Thor anew. He thought they were
finished, and now they're back to zero, and everyone's trust in Tony is
shattered in the process. He doesn't seem to feel even a hint of remorse, even
knowing that Ultron is his responsibility. He's used to sending weapons out
into the world, and we get that point underlined when Wanda and Pietro meet
Ultron and tell him about how they were orphaned. Their story of being
trapped a few feet from an unexploded mortar shell with “STARK” written on
the side of it is a reminder that Tony's been doing damage to the world a lot
longer than he's been trying to fix it, and it makes it hard to argue that Stark
and the Avengers are a pure good thing in the world.
 During the heyday of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, I was an active advocate
for studios to pick up on the wonder that was Joss Whedon.

Watching Avengers: Age Of Ultron, it feels like that is exactly what we

were asking for when we asked for him to be in charge of our pop culture. And
I mean that in both positive and negative ways.

Joss Whedon has a great ear for clever dialogue, and that can be a wee
bit of a curse. There is something about the way he writes that can make it feel
like he's afraid to fully engage in some of the bigger emotion. When you're
doing 22 episodes of a television series, you can take one episode to shift the
tone to something darker, more somber, and it feels appropriate. In a 140
minute film, you can only find moments to downshift, and when it's
surrounded by non-stop wisecracks, it can feel glib or insincere. That's also
true when you have this many characters you're trying to serve. Characters who
have had several movies worth of set-up can afford to be given less screen time,
sketching in new details quickly. With new characters, though, growth can
seem artificial or forced. Whedon knows how to create a character arc, but
juggling seven or eight of them in one movie would be a challenge for anyone
to pull off with anything approaching grace.

Also, before we continue, a quick note about why I would publish this
second look at something as gigantic as Avengers: Age Of Ultron. When I read
critics who I know are smart and reasonable people dismiss a film like this
outright, it reminds me of how I've seen mainstream media treat genre my
entire life. People refuse to engage with movies, and then they call those
movies poorly written or shallow or somehow lesser.

It makes no sense, and it is one of the ways I know who I can or can't
take seriously. If you won't engage any text fully, then you're not doing your
job. If I sit down to see Holy Motors or Pather Pachali or Thor: The Dark World,
I approach every one of those films the same way, open to the experience and
ready to engage the film on its terms. When something is as gigantic a cultural
juggernaut as Avengers: Age Of Ultron is and there are critics who check out
completely, I think it's even more important to make the case for what these
movies do well.
 “Is this a Code Green?”
- Bruce Banner

The storytelling in Avengers: Age Of Ultron is basically done in one of two

modes. Either it's a set piece, or it's people standing around and discussing
exposition. There is so much exposition in the film that they bring in
characters who do nothing but help shovel through it. The moments in the
film that work best are the ones where they manage to balance action,
character, and story progress into one graceful whole.

There are two major set pieces that play back to back set in Africa. The
first deals with Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis), who runs a highly successful black
market out of a landlocked shipping tanker. I really like Serkis when he's
allowed to actually appear on-camera as a real human being, and he makes a
great impression in his extended sequence here. He deals with the twins first,
and he seems like he rolls with the whole idea of super powers pretty well. His
introduction to Ultron goes less well, and when he loses his hand, it's a
shockingly funny accident. It's interesting that the most violent reaction to
anything in the film by Ultron is when he is compared to Tony Stark. Very
clearly, this movie deals with each of these characters at war with themselves,
and none more overtly than Stark. Ultron and Jarvis are the two parts of Stark
given physical form, and it's in-character for Ultron to be offended by the mere
suggestion that he is part of Stark in any way.

There's some pretty naked franchise seeding going on in this scene as

well, with careful mention being made of the brand on Klaue's neck, the
Wakandan word for “thief.” When we meet T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman) in
Captain America: Civil War, I have no doubt he's going to be looking for the
vibranium that Klaue surrenders to Ultron, and he's going to want answers
about what happened to it. It's going to give him a really strong motivation
during his introduction, and should make it interesting when Serkis shows up
again.

The Twins hurt the Avengers here, and when people complain that
Ultron's not a strong enough villain, they miss that he's not the only
antagonist. At this point, Wanda is the one the Avengers should truly fear,
since she seems to be able to pierce their defenses immediately and in a way
that leaves them truly wounded. What I find interesting is how her attempts
to hurt Steve Rogers only seem to clarify his place in the world for him. Yes,
he missed his chance with Peggy (Hayley Atwell), and a “normal life” no longer
seems to be an option for him, but if that's the worst thing Steve has rattling
around inside of him, no wonder he's Captain Freaking America. I thought for
sure his visions would have more to do with the way he failed Bucky, especially
since I think that's going to play into Civil War in a very direct way.

The film's single greatest failure involves Thor, and it's a shame because
Thor has one of the most interesting dangling story threads in the Marvel
Universe right now. One of the things that is most clever about Thor: The Dark
World is how Loki ends up on the throne of Asgard without anyone realizing
he's done it, and that includes Thor. “We are all dead. You are a destroyer,
Odinson.” The basic thrust of these scenes involving Heimdal (Idris Elba) is
that Thor's done something to doom all of Asgard, something he cannot name,
and there's a way to pay that off. There should be something eating at Thor,
something he knows is not right that he can't name. Yes, Loki looks like Odin
at this point, but Thor should feel there's something wrong after their
interactions. It should be nagging at him, eventually leading him back to
Asgard for Thor: Ragnarok. All of that is fumbled and lost in the actual
execution of the Thor scenes, though, and I feel bad for Hemsworth. He is so
perfectly cast that when he is given room to simply be Thor, he makes it
effortlessly charming. His reaction in that moment where Captain America
slightly moves Mjolnir is enormously subtle, but speaks volumes. I suspect that
Hemsworth is a real actor who just happens to be wrapped in the body of a
Norse god, and seeing him sidelined for this entire film, it becomes clear what
a waste it is. It's fitting that this set piece ends when Hawkeye stops Wanda by
hitting her in the forehead with an electrified arrow, preventing her from using
her powers on him. “I've done the whole mind control thing,” he says, directly
referencing his own fumbled character arc in the first film. “Not a fan.”

Wanda and Pietro limp away from the fight, just as dented by it as the
Avengers are, but before they go, Wanda makes one last stop. Again… she's
the one to fear here, not Ultron. “I want the big one,” she says, and she gets
him. When we see the Hulk, he is on a tear, heading for the city, out of
control. This is the second big set piece in Africa, and one of the biggest action
sequences in the entire film. One of the biggest gripes I've heard about this
film, and this scene in particular, is that people simply don't care if they're
looking at computer pixels punching computer pixels. I guess I can't argue if
someone simply hates digital effects as a whole, but I also don't really
understand. Yes, these scenes were accomplished using character animation on
live-action plates, but you're still looking at a scene involving characters. And
what happens between these two characters here is fairly pivotal. Tony calls in
Veronica, the fail-safe that we heard him mention earlier, and it's clear that
this is an option designed by Tony and Bruce to put the Hulk down. It is the
worst-case scenario. One of the small things I found interesting was how quick
Tony is to pull the trigger. It's clear that he takes the threat of the Hulk
seriously, and when you see what a blind rampage looks like, it's clear that he
should take him seriously.

This is a key moment in Ultron's plan, but the way the film moves, you'd
never know that this is something Ultron did with purpose. He wants to make
the world afraid of The Avengers. He wants to tarnish them. But why? If he's
already planning to create an Extinction Level Event, why worry about what
the world thinks of the Avengers? It's almost like Whedon thinks in terms of
season-sized arcs, and trying to do that all in the space of two and a half hours
means you do everything at a gallop. You ride by so fast that none of it sticks. I
can see the idea of an evolving plan, but in two hours, it evolves at light speed.
One of the reasons all of these films end with people running around and
fighting over some glowing doodad on a roof or in the sky that's going to do
some vague something that will be bad is because studios worry about complex
storytelling on a spectacle scale. They need international audiences to be able
to watch these films and absorb them without worrying about the fine points
of language. When you're telling a story that moves as fast as these stories are
required to move, it works “best” when it's simple. “There's a bad thing. If you
put it on a roof and turn it on, bad things happen. So the bad guys want to do
that. And the good guys want to stop it. The end.”

“You don't think they need me.”

“I think they do. Which is scarier.”
- Clint and Laura Barton

One of the most interesting notes in Joss Whedon's “Don't Blame Me”
promotional tour for Avengers: Age Of Ultron was the notion that Disney was
dead set against the entire detour to the farmhouse. Laura Barton (Linda
Cardellini) is Hawkeye's big secret, his wife who lives off the grid and under
the radar. She doesn't even exist in his official SHIELD paperwork, which is
why Ultron doesn't know about her, making their farmhouse one of the few
places he wouldn't know to look for any of them.

The real purpose of this scene is to show what it is that they're fighting
to preserve in the movie. When your characters are billionaires and rage
monsters and super soldiers and gods, it helps to sometimes introduce a bit of
normal-scale humanity. While I love the Matt Fraction version of Hawkeye in
print, I'm fine with the idea that Whedon went in a very different direction.
Laura Barton knows the value of having a human being on the team because
she knows that it connects the Avengers to human frailty, something that is
important when you're fighting for us. Clint is the only one who gets seriously
hurt in the opening fight, after all, and it was the death of Coulson in the first
film that gave the Avengers their real push into the fight.

It's also important here to show that Natasha may have regrets or
sorrows in her life, but she's not the walking wounded. She has a healthy
relationship with Clint's family, and she has a place in the world. She is not
alone. She is not a monster because she can't have children, something that
people have misread in her conversation with Banner. What begins as a sort of
playful joke about joining him in the shower becomes a conversation about
whether or not they've missed their opportunity to be together. She's pushed
gently before this, but this is the moment where they lay it out, no more vague
flirting. Banner doesn't believe he can ever be part of a relationship. Natasha,
perhaps moved by being close to Barton's family, is ready to run, ready to go
claim her piece of normal. Of course, her piece of normal would be with a guy
who is afraid he will turn into an actual rampaging beast if he ever lets his heart
rate race too high. Whedon's had plenty of experience writing this dynamic
before with Buffy and Angel, so maybe that explains why he's able to quickly
make it feel like this really does matter to both of them.

“What did you dream?” Banner asks her.

“That I was an Avenger. That I was anything more than the assassin they
made me.”

“What are you doing?”

 “Running with it.” She wants to at least try. She believes they might find
some way to be happy. She knows it won't be like anyone else's normal,
though.

Bruce says something very important during the conversation. “Where in

the world am I not a threat?” That phrasing is important when discussing the
end of the film, so keep that in mind. He is equally precise when he tells
Natasha why they can't have the same things that Clint has. “Do the math. I
physically can't.”

“Neither can I,” she tells him, and the way she explains what happened
to her after her graduation ceremony is dispassionate. Straightforward. She
thinks of herself as a monster not because she was sterilized, but because of
what that did to her, stripping her of the chance that she would ever care
about something enough to put it before the job. There is plenty about this
scene that is up for interpretation, but I don't believe for a second that either
the character or the filmmakers are saying that people who can't or don't have
children are monsters. This is about whether Natasha has done enough harm
in her time to ever be able to balance that with doing good. It's about whether
or not Banner can ever control himself enough to live, or if he's going to spend
the rest of his life afraid of himself. It's the same thing Stark is wrestling with
during his conversation with Steve outside. The thing that really rattled the
Avengers is that they are having to confront the idea that they really may not
be a good thing for this world, and that can't be easy for any of us to face.

“We're mad scientists. We're monsters, buddy. And we've got to own it.”
- Tony Stark

Oddly, as the film accelerates towards its ending, I find myself less and
less engaged by it. One of the things I noticed about my own reaction is that
the third act of this film feels like a reaction of sorts to Man Of Steel and the
way that film's third act numbed audiences and frustrated audiences who
wanted to see Superman saving people. I maintain that the fight in that film is
a far less controlled thing than that, more about Kal-El realizing his own
abilities than serving as the protector of mankind that the character eventually
becomes. My biggest problem here is that this swings so far in the other
direction that it renders Ultron almost toothless. The Avengers spend much of
the film's climax saving people, and while that is admirable, there comes a
point where it feels like we're going to see them load every single extra onto a
bus.

The most interesting element of the final stretch of the film, by far, is
The Vision. His physical form is initially created to hold Ultron's final
consciousness, but because the Avengers manage to steal The Cradle during
the process, he becomes something very different. Banner's incredulous
question to Stark is a fair one when he says, “Ultron can't tell the difference
between destroying the world and saving it. Where do you think he learned
it?” Stark seems to be determined to be the one to clean up his own mess, and
that focus is what keeps him pushing. None of them seem to anticipate
whatever The Vision is in the end, and he raises way more questions than
Ultron ever does. While they refer to Ultron as an artificial intelligence, it's
important that Wanda can't actually read Ultron's mind at all, while she is able
to read The Vision. It suggests that Ultron never makes the leap that the
Vision does from being a trick of programming into being something else,
something real. It's not just because of the Infinity Gem that is embedded in
the Vision's head, either. The Vision almost seems like an already existing
consciousness that was just looking for a host. He arrives with such a complex
personality that he is able to do something no other Avenger can, easily lifting
Mjolnir at a key moment in the action. And again… watch Hemsworth in every
single interaction he has with the Vision. He is delighted by him, and it's such
a real and funny response that I have to give him special praise.

Both Ultron and The Vision are birthed in the same place, and they are
both birthed by the same parents. It is worth looking at how different the two
of them are considering how closely their origins are entwined. The Vision is
Ultron's idealized version of himself, but with a radically different mind driving
things. It's interesting that Ultron would want to be so very human in his final
form considering how naked his contempt is for humanity. I would think that
something that truly hates humanity would want to create a form for itself that
left behind all the things that define and limit us. Instead, it looks like Ultron
was trying to turn himself into something that is like the most perfect version
of what Tony Stark began with his first Iron Man suit. It feels like it's more an
echo of Tony's dream than it is something that organically began with Ultron.
After all, look at the colors in the Vision. He's got a real strong streak of Tony
Stark Crimson running through himself. He looks like a human Iron Man suit,
sleeker and more beautiful than any of the suits could be. His first moments
alive are marked with a lovely haiku of a voice-over. “I'm not Ultron. I'm not
Jarvis. I am… I am.” The amount of thought that goes on between those two
very different pronunciations of “I am” define what I like about the character.
He is a dream, shared by a creator and a creation, that surpasses both of them.

It makes sense that even once all the fighting is done, things ultimately
come down to The Vision and Ultron standing in a forest, quietly talking
about the end of things. All of the physical violence that happens in that third
act, all of the fighting and explosions and everything else, means nothing
compared to what happens in that last hushed moment. Ultron tries to
provoke The Vision, saying, “Stark asked for a savior, and settled on a slave,”
but The Vision is unflustered, unconcerned because he knows exactly who and
what he is. As Ultron accepts what is about to happen, he tells The Vision,
“They're doomed.”

“Yes,” the Vision agrees, “but a thing isn't beautiful because it lasts.”
Whedon might as well be talking about the Marvel Cinematic Universe itself,
because he knows that this narrative juggling act can't continue forever. At
some point, there has to be some sense of conclusion for this story, and that's
part of what defines a story. The ending is part of the thing, and there will be
an ending at some point.

But this film is not allowed to be a conclusion, and that's one of the
things that I found dissatisfying about it. That sense of serving other ongoing
stories can be a good thing, but it can also make this feel like a feature-length
trailer instead of a story that works on its own terms. While I think there are
many moments in the film where Whedon gets Hulk and Banner completely
right, right in a way that only he has managed so far out of all the films the
character's been in, I think there's a weird narrative gooch that takes place
here, all in service of a surprise later on. Remember Banner's line earlier in the
film? “Where in the world am I not a threat?” After the incident in Africa, the
answer appears to be “Nowhere.” The last time we see Hulk in the movie, he's
sitting at the controls of a Quinjet, and he looks up, through the canopy, at
whatever lies beyond the horizon.

In the early drafts of the film's script, it was made very clear that Hulk
was trapped on a Quinjet that had been programmed to leave the atmosphere.
He had a goodbye moment with Natasha, and their final contact here feels like
a goodbye. Hulk is tired of worrying about what he is capable of doing, and he
can't live his life that way any longer. People have read the end of the film as
saying that Hulk definitely landed his Quinjet, but I think the opposite is true.
The reason the Quinjet doesn't show up on radar anywhere on the planet is
because it is no longer on the planet. The next time we see Hulk, he is going to
be somewhere else. My theory is that he'll appear in either Thor: Ragnarok or
Guardians Of The Galaxy 2, and it will only be once we reach the next Avengers
sequels that he will finally return to Earth. I don't believe they're going to do a
full Planet Hulk movie, but I think they're going to cherry-pick elements of
that larger storyline and use them in the midst of these other movies. The
ending of Age Of Ultron is confusing, but I think intentionally confusing. They
want you to be puzzle about where he is so that when we do see him again, it
will be a jolt. I just wouldn't be too terribly shocked if that took place on a
planet other than ours.

The film's final images are an announcement that the status quo is no
longer the way things work in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and I wish
Whedon had been able to drop even more characters into that image. You can
almost see the spot where Captain Marvel could have landed, but he didn't
have room to introduce her anywhere else in the film. If someone as gifted as
Whedon had as much trouble as he did figuring out a way to use and fully serve
each of his characters here while serving the individual franchises and also
setting things up for stuff still to come, then that should be an indicator of just
what a difficult task this is. Marvel plans in broad strokes, and in doing so, I
think they set some pretty hefty challenges for their filmmakers. It will not be
easy to make things all work together over the course of the next four years in
a way that is satisfying both commercially and creatively. I admire the focus of
their ambition now, even if I don't think the Thanos moment mid-credits
makes any sense at all. Who is he talking to? What was his part in this movie's
events? What would Ultron's victory have done to serve Thanos and his
agenda? While I recognize that post or mid-credits scenes are big parts of the
Marvel signature, I wish they'd either make sure they are genuine parts of the
story or just drop them. There are several from the various earlier films that
make no sense at all now, like the one in The Incredible Hulk or the one at the
end of Thor, scenes that are retroactively erased by things we see in the actual
movies that came later.
 When I spoke to my kids a few weeks after the Age Of Ultron screenings
to see what stuck with them, they barely mentioned Ultron himself. They were
fascinated by The Vision and The Scarlet Witch, disappointed by the death of
Quicksilver, and still just as engaged as ever by the main Avengers and their
various wants and fears. Marvel gets so much right, and there is so much talent
involved, that even when I feel like Age Of Ultron gets lost, it's interesting. But
it is also an indicator of just how unwieldy the story that's being told is
becoming, and how hard it's going to be for the studio to pull it all together.

Ant-Man
dir. Peyton Reed
published July 8, 2015
HitFix

I am already tired of the conversation about what would have been

different if Edgar Wright had stayed onboard to direct Ant-Man, the latest
movie from Marvel Studios. As the writing credits on the film reflect, much of
what Edgar did with his co-writer Joe Cornish is still intact, and they were the
ones who cracked the way to bring one of the strangest members of the
Avengers to the screen for the first time.

There is plenty of director Peyton Reed and co-writers Paul Rudd and
Adam McKay on display here, too, though, and one of the things that makes
Ant-Man stand out is that it's one of the most effortlessly charming films that
Marvel has made so far. It was a big part of the appeal of last year's Guardians
Of The Galaxy, as well, although this film has a very different sensibility. In
basic structure, the film hits some of the same beats as Iron Man, with a
disgruntled second-in-command trying to stage a hostile takeover using a
modified version of the hero's weaponry. But when you look at the difference
between the way the two films feel, it's clear that there is still plenty of room
to make these films feel individual.

Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) is a career criminal who's just getting out of his
latest stint in prison, and he's determined to go straight this time. After all,
he's got some pretty strong motivation in the form of his young daughter,
Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson, who seems omnipresent these days). His ex-wife
Maggie (Judy Greer) has moved on, and the guy she's picked as a replacement
for Scott, Paxton (Bobby Cannavale), is pretty much his polar opposite, a cop.
Scott's intentions may be good, but he finds himself frustrated at every turn,
and it doesn't help that he's living with his former prison cellmate Luis
(Michael Pena), who has some ideas for how he and Scott can put their skills to
good use.

When Scott does finally give in to temptation, it brings him to the

attention of Dr. Hank Pym (Michael Douglas), an eccentric but well-known
scientist whose company is no longer under his control. Instead, Pym
Industries is being run by Darren Cross (Corey Stoll), and they're working to
perfect a military application for a miniaturization process that was based on
some of Pym's early work. Fans of the comics already know that Pym played a
pivotal role in the early days of the Marvel universe, and there's an opening
scene that hints at that role, and it features a startlingly realistic young Michael
Douglas, de-aged digitally by the same team who put Chris Evans's head on a
skinny body. The work here is almost spooky, especially since we know what a
young Michael Douglas looked and sounded like.

Ant-Man has one of the slower starts to a Marvel movie, and it takes a
little while to really find its rhythms. Once Scott is in contact with Hank and
his daughter Hope Van Dyne (Evangeline Lily), the movie really hits its stride,
and for fans of heist films in general, there's a fun attitude that the movie
strikes. The characters are clearly drawn, and simply motivated, leaving plenty
of room to just enjoy the undeniably weird side of the entire concept. After all,
this is a superhero who shrinks to bug size and who can communicated
telepathically with ants.

The film builds and builds, with a third act that is preposterous fun both
because of how it is staged and because it keeps the emphasis on the personal.
This may be the most intimate movie so far in the main Marvel movie
universe, even though it ultimately proves to be an essential puzzle piece in
many ways. We learn a lot in this film about characters we have yet to meet as
well as characters we've known for a while now, and there are two separate
post-movie stings. One comes mid-credits, and one is at the end, and they're
both pretty great. In the first one, Evangeline Lily delivers the single most
meta line in any of the Marvel movies so far, one that should have female fans
cheering and that speaks to where the movies could be heading soon.
 Reed's touch is most firmly felt in the way the characters relate here.
There is a relaxed comic energy to the film that really works, and Paul Rudd is
a perfect Scott Lang. He's nothing like the standard issue Marvel hero so far,
and the movie is better for it. He has tremendous chemistry with Michael
Pena and with Evangeline Lily, and both of them walk away looking great
thanks to the roles they're playing. The film has a very different visual feel than
the last few Marvel films, with the decision to use largely real macro-lensed
photography to create the backgrounds for the miniature sequences paying off
beautifully. There's also an introduction of a new dimension, the Quantum
Realm, that is flat out gorgeous, and a fascinating new plaything for storytellers
working at Marvel.

There's something gratifying about a film like this, where most of the
third act takes place inside a child's bedroom, after seeing a movie as
gigantically scaled as Avengers: Age Of Ultron. It is a reminder that just because
these movies all come from Marvel, there is no obligation to make them all feel
like the exact same movie. I like the way the film thematically deals with the
promises and the heartbreak that exist between fathers and children, and I
love a middle-of-the-movie sequence that folds into Ultron in a most unusual
way.

Ant-Man has its own voice, no doubt thanks to all of the talent involved,
and it stands as a surprisingly sturdy success for the studio, a delightfully weird
little movie that has no business working this well.

PHASE THREE
Captain America: Civil War
dir. Joe and Anthony Russo
published April 18, 2016
HitFix

My first political memory is of Watergate. I was too young to truly

understand what was happening, but I was aware that the President of the
United States had done something wrong, and the country was upset because
of it. That may be why I’ve grown up with a healthy sense of skepticism
towards authority, particularly when it comes to the idea that authority is
always right. I’ve never believed that, and that attitude has served me well.
 Truth be told, I wish that was not the case. I wish I could believe that
our elected officials have our best interests at heart. I wish I believed that all
policemen truly wanted to serve and protect our entire population equally. I
wish I believed that the banks were designed to help us all financially. I wish I
believed that the system was set up to allow all of us the same chances in this
world, and that hard work was always rewarded and that making the right
moral choice meant good things would happen. It is a constant effort to teach
my children about the world without allowing my own cynicism about things
to bleed through, and if anything, they have given me some hope that things
can and will be better for them. One of the reasons I am excited to share
Captain America: Civil War with my own kids is because I think it fully
embodies the struggle I've dealt with my whole life regarding my feelings about
authority and government, and it does so in a way that challenges the viewer
without offering up easy answers.

Most mainstream superhero films have been fairly simple affairs in terms
of moral complexity, and for good reason. When you’re writing a movie that
builds to a bunch of people in rubber costumes beating the hell out of each
other, there’s not a lot of room for nuance. The longer this cycle of films
continues, though, the less satisfying that approach becomes, and one of the
things that the Captain America films have done so well so far is show genuine
growth from movie to movie, not only in the character, but in the filmmaking
itself. Joe Johnston’s Captain America: The First Avenger is both the most
elegant of the Marvel origin story movies and a crackerjack adventure movie
that proved that Marvel could do more than one thing. Joe and Anthony Russo
gave the action a totally different feel in the crisp, efficient Captain America:
The Winter Soldier, which did a great job of setting up the growing discomfort
Steve Rogers feels as a man whose moral compass was set in place in a totally
different time. The common thread between all three films creatively is the
writing team of Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, and these films
deserve credit for being thematically sound and genuinely complex every single
time. They’ve written three totally different films in this series, and they’ve
managed to turn these films and this particular trilogy into the most soulful
and emotionally resonant films in the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe.

What makes Captain America: Civil War such a terrific accomplishment

is the way it takes what could have been the most crass and overcrowded story
to adapt as a film and instead transforms it into an examination of just who
these heroes are and what impact they’ve had on the world around them, and
vice versa. The Tony Stark in this film is not the guy we met in Iron Man back
in 2008. The reason it’s so powerful to see Steve Roger stand, bloodied but not
broken, saying, “I could do this all day” the same way he did when he was just a
skinny kid with a big heart is because we’ve seen everything that’s happened to
him in-between, and we’ve seen how Steve has reacted to it all. He is the most
selfless of the Marvel heroes, the most genuinely heroic deep down in his
bones. He wasn’t like Tony, undergoing some moral awakening late in life, and
he’s not tortured by his powers like Bruce Banner. He asked for this. He
wanted to become Captain America so he could do the right thing as many
times as he had to do it in order to make this a good and safe world.

But what does that mean? It’s a question that haunts us in the real world.
What role do we play in the world community? When is it right to step in to
right a wrong, and when it is unwarranted aggression? How much are we
responsible for evil that occurs if we know about it but do nothing to stop it?
We are not, by anyone’s definition, the world’s policemen, but we use our
military muscle to shape the world into what we want it to be. I think that’s
the other thing that is so interesting about this series. Steve Rogers is the real
hero here. Captain America was a propaganda tool created by the US
government. He is a blunt-force subtle symbol of America as the best and the
brightest. And when he was created, America was a very different country than
it is now, in a world that is just as different. Wearing that name today is a very
different thing for Steve Rogers, and in this film, he comes face to face with
the limitations that are inherent to the way he’s lived his life so far. He finds
himself in a fight with no right solution because everyone involved in the fight
is genuinely driven by moral certainty. No one is fighting out of simple self-
interest. There is no real villain here.

One of the strongest choices that was made involves Daniel Bruhl’s
character. In the original comics, Baron Zemo is a Nazi mad scientist with
some truly ridiculous backstory. In each of the movies so far, the Captain
America films have been very careful in the way they’ve translated the sort of
big broad bad guys of the original comics into living breathing movie
characters. The Red Skull is a comic book villain, and Hugo Weaving played
him very well, finding some humanity in something so outrageous. The way
they brought Toby Jones as Zola back in Winter Soldier was potentially
ridiculous, but it ended up feeling creepy and sad, and the Winter Soldier
himself was a formidable opponent, relentless and every bit Cap’s equal in
terms of combat. In the comics, there were two Zemos, a father and son, and
the son ended up working with both the Red Skull and Zola at different times.
The character that Bruhl plays is nothing like that. He’s a regular human being,
and his plan only becomes clear in the film’s final stretch. Bruhl plays him very
real, even when he’s tracking down a Siberian base full of frozen evil Super
Soldiers, and it is a real testament to how well-done everything about this film
is that by the end of the movie, he comes across as a man driven by a righteous
and horrible anger, not as a “villain” in any typical sense of the word.

There’s no question that different people will take different things from
this based on how much any of this matters to them. Casual viewers will still
likely walk away with a full, rich experience, because the film is incredibly clear
about where the characters and story begin, and where everything ends. You
could easily watch this removed from any other film in the entire Marvel
filmography and you’d still get a complete film. But for audiences who are
invested in these characters and this world, it is almost preposterous how well
this all comes together. Take the way this film handles Peggy Carter. Even if
you don’t know the other films, it’s pretty clear that she’s someone important
to Steve, and it’s also clear what she meant to her niece Sharon (Emily
VanCamp), who really comes into her own as a character after a mysterious
appearance in The Winter Soldier. If you just watch this film, you’ll get it, but
for me, someone who has come to really love the character Peggy, the film
carries a hefty emotional punch that surprised me. It’s precisely because of
that investment.

The same thing is true of Tony in this film. I think Robert Downey Jr. as
Tony Stark and Iron Man is one of the greatest pieces of superhero casting of
all time. There is no doubt in my mind that Marvel owes an eternal debt to
Downey for what he did to bring the character to life, and that Downey owes
them equally for betting big on him after his earlier public turbulence. The
work he does here is refined and honest and more emotional than he’s been in
earlier films. This has all taken a huge toll on Tony. If there’s ever been a
perfect moment for Demon In A Bottle to really work, this is it. After all, Iron
Man 3 was essentially a film about a superhero dealing with the PTSD that
comes with saving the world from an alien invasion. Since that moment, Tony’s
been trying to get out of the Iron Man suit for good. It’s the impulse that led
to the disastrous events of Avengers: Age of Ultron, and this time, Tony’s ready
to hand over the responsibility for his actions and for all the people they
couldn’t save to anyone else. He can’t take any more blood on his hands. He
can’t take failing his friends again. And when Captain America refuses to go
along with the Sokovia Accords, refuses to register as a superpowered being
who will only act on the sanctioned word of the US government, it is shocking
to him. Steve Rogers is no mere mouthpiece, and Captain America is no longer
a symbol, but merely a man making his own choices. Tony has become what he
thought Steve would want him to be, and it’s upsetting to him to be left
holding this particular bag. He thought this would be an automatic yes from
Cap, an easy choice. And instead, the events we’ve seen in The First Avenger
and The Winter Soldier easily explain why Steve makes the choices he does in
this film without excusing them.

One of the many things the film does well is the gradual escalation of
events, starting with an unfortunate accident during a confrontation with
Crossbones (Frank Grillo) that ends in tragedy. Every scene, we can feel the
heroes being pulled into this moral quicksand where every choice they make
feels like the wrong one, no matter how right the reasons. The film ably juggles
appearances from supporting characters like Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner),
Rhodey (Don Cheadle), Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen), and Scott Lang (Paul
Rudd), all of them playing key roles in the events without overpowering the
scenes they”re in. It”s impressive because we”ve had enough history with these
characters that when they”re used here, it”s all about watching these
personalities collide. When we laugh, it's not because of easy punchlines, but
more because we know all of these people well enough now that these
interactions feel both real and inevitable.

It’s even more impressive to see how they introduce two brand new
characters here, because both of them feel essential to the story they’re telling
and to the themes of the film. T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) is introduced as
the prince of Wakanda during a special session of the United Nations, but
when tragedy strikes again, T’Challa suits up as the Black Panther and sets out
to find and kill Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan). When Tony Stark finds himself
confounded by Captain America’s actions, he reaches out to someone he’s
been watching, and from the moment Tom Holland enters the film as Peter
Parker, he’s exactly right. In fact, there’s a moment about halfway into Captain
America: Civil War when I suddenly wished that my good friend Aaron was
sitting there in the theater with me. Aaron’s one of my favorite people on the
planet, and a longtime friend, and one of the things he loves most is Spider-
Man. He adores the character, and while he loves any number of geek
properties, I think it’s safe to say Spidey is at the very top of the stack for him.
When he sees this film, he’s going have an out-of-body experience because of
just how right they get not only Spider-Man but Peter Parker as well. Having
seen dozens and dozens of movies with him over the years, I could imagine
how he’s going to react when he sees Spider-Man swing into action in this film,
and I’m sorry I won’t be there when it happens. What makes his appearance in
the film more than just fan service or a commercial for another franchise is the
impact he has on the characters in the film. He has a heartfelt scene with Tony
where his own personal drive serves as a reminder of just how important what
they do really is, and it’s beautifully played by both Holland and Downey. It
also gives us a glimpse of his relationship with Aunt May (Marisa Tomei), and I
look forward to getting to know them in their film next year.

By the time the dust settles at the end of the film, things have changed
for everyone in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and there’s no easy reset
button offered up. Even the now-expected mid-credits scene is looking
forward at a very different status quo for these characters. I’m curious where
they take Vision (Paul Bettany), who emerges as a much stranger character this
time with a hilarious penchant for sweaters, and even the references they drop
to the nature of his Infinity gem feel like they fit in this story, not like teasers
for something else. Performances in the film are great across the board, and it’s
fun watching different combinations of these actors get to play together. The
“splash page” action sequence that takes place at a German airport is one of
the finest examples in any film of superhero action done right, with each
character serving some vital role in the way things unfold. Overall, what the
Russos do best in these films is make superheroic powers look like something
real while remembering just how visceral and exciting the best superhero
action can be. There’s an impact to this action, but it never feel gratuitous.
Each character has their own way of handling a situation, and there are tons of
amazing individual gags in the film that spotlight each of these different power
sets. Nothing feels thrown away. Nothing feels perfunctory. It feels like each
beat of the film is carefully considered and crafted.

My only complaint is one that I’ve had for most of the modern Marvel
cycle, and it’s almost pointless to complain about it at this point. I wish they
had built memorable and distinct musical themes for each of the major Marvel
character so that these scores became a sort of call-and-response between
those themes. As it is, I think Henry Jackman’s score is fine. It works. But it
would have been wonderful if the musical side of things was working on as
sophisticated a level as everything else is at this point. It feels greedy to want
more from a film that works as well as this, though. That’s just me as a film
score nerd wishing things had been perfect.

Overall, Captain America: Civil War is an example of how these films are
more than just simple good guy/bad guy power fantasies, but only if you treat
the characters and the audience with equal respect.

Doctor Strange
dir. Scott Derrickson
published
Pulp & Popcorn

Marvel seems to be aware of just how dangerous complacency can be for

an ongoing film franchise.

At this point, I think it’s almost silly to pretend that this is anything less
than one single giant interconnected film series called Marvel. Some chapters
are about Iron Man, some are about Captain America, some are about Hulk or
Thor or Black Widow or Ant-Man, and in many of the chapters, various
combinations of those characters also occur. But it is all part of one big
narrative, and if you really want to understand the scope of this thing that
Marvel has done, you have to watch it all. There’s a new Marvel Studios logo in
front of the film, and it uses film clips from everything they’ve made so far to
help set the tone and immerse you in that world from the very start, reminding
you of just how far they’ve come since the release of Iron Man in 2008.

Seen as the latest installment in this big strange sprawling story they’re
telling, Doctor Strange feels like both business as usual and a radical left turn,
and it’s interesting to see how they handle an origin story that introduces such
big ideas, since much of what they have planned for these characters in the
near future depends on the success of Strange. First, there’s the character, who
will definitely spill over into other movies and other series. We have already
heard that we can count on him playing an important role in the upcoming
Avengers: Infinity War, and this film makes a strong case for why he would be
important. More than that, though, when he is initiated into the way of magic
in this universe, it creates storytelling opportunities that literally change
everything that we’ve learned so far about the way the Marvel world works.

The one thing I’m not quite sure about after seeing the film is the way
the timeline of the story works. It appears to take place across a pretty wide
expanse of time, starting with Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) as a
successful and arrogant surgeon. He’s good enough that the arrogance is
earned, but after a car accident destroys his hands, Strange finds himself
suddenly adrift, unable to decide what he’s going to do with his life. I can relate
to that feeling right now. In fact, just writing that admission stopped me cold
on this review for about six hours. Getting knocked out of the life you think
you’re leading without warning is disorienting and emasculating and can
absolutely put you on the ground. What you do about that is what defines you,
and in the case of this character, he takes a path that he could never have
predicted. He hears about someone who essentially healed themselves from a
catastrophic accident, and he follows that information to a Nepalese retreat
where he meets The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton), Master Wong (Benedict
Wong), and Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor), tumbling headlong into a world where
magic is routine and reality is a malleable thing. After what appears to be years
of study, he has to decide if he is pursuing his knowledge of magic for himself
or for something greater, and that decision is what propels him into the larger
Marvel universe as a true hero.

Sounds simple enough, right?

The script, credited to Jon Spaihts, Scott Derrickson, and C. Robert

Cargill, is way more interested in playing with the world than in telling an A-B-
C superhero story. The big climax of the film may be the most metaphysical
superhero battle since the end of Ang Lee’s Hulk, and it’s nice to see that
Doctor Strange isn’t expected to solve everything by punching people. When
you can manipulate the very fabric of reality, “battle” becomes something
different, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy pinning down exactly how to bring these
ideas to life in a way that might make sense to a broad audience. The first big
“trip” sequence, as the Ancient One tries to awaken Strange to the truth about
the universe, is one of the most bonkers things I’ve seen a major studio release
in a long time. It is also not random or just a bunch of eye candy being thrown
at the audience for the sake of it, and that’s what I find most interesting. There
have been many attempts at translating the psychedelic experience to film, and
the way the mystical realm is portrayed here is one of the most vivid and best-
realized versions ever. The film has such a strong handle on how to visualize
alternate dimensions where our own senses would be pushed to the breaking
point that it almost feels casual. People may actually just gloss over how hard it
was to figure out how to bring this to three-dimensional life, because you’re
dealing with things that are supposed to be beyond our experience and
understanding. That’s easy to write; it’s a lot harder to actually summon into
existence.

Doctor Strange is, in many ways, the pulpiest of the Marvel superheroes.
Many of the trappings of the character feel rooted in the same traditions that
gave us Fu Manchu, Doc Savage, The Shadow, and countless stories focused on
The Yellow Peril. It’s hard to update this stuff and be remotely true to the
source material while also being cognizant of modern attitudes and our new
understanding of how these stereotypes were used. The Ancient One and
Wong are going to be a problem pretty much any way you approach them, and
I think Derrickson and his collaborators got as close to a bulls-eye as anyone
was going to with this property. Tilda Swinton’s Ancient One is simply odd and
alien, as are all Tilda Swinton characters. I can’t imagine too many other actors
you could cast who feel like they stand apart from typical categorization like
Swinton does. Mordo is the one who first brings Strange into this alternate
world, but that doesn’t really make them friends. All three of these characters
(Mordo, The Ancient One, and Wong) are fairly heavily reimagined for the
film, and in each case, I can see how Derrickson and Marvel worked to find a
balance that is both progressive and somehow respectful to the source
material. I’m not sure that is possible, but I’ll give them this… they tried.

What I like most about the film is how gleefully weird it is. His Cloak
Of Levitation is evidently played by the Magic Carpet from Aladdin, and it is
as delightful as ever. I’m curious to see what other characters make of Strange
and his powers once he collides with the rest of the Marvel universe, because
he really isn’t like any of the other Marvel heroes we’ve met so far. There are
two scenes after the ending of the film, one mid-credits and one at the very
end, and one of them was shot by a different director, giving us our first hint of
another film’s tone. Right away, I’m onboard, and you can tell immediately that
there’s a different sensibility at work than Derrickson’s. The Marvel movies
may be largely driven by the studio, but there is definitely room for a
filmmaker to sign one of these movies, and it feels like that’s happening more
and more often. It’s safe to say that we have some idea about who Doctor
Strange’s next opponent could be, but will that happen as part of the Infinity
War, or will that be something we see in another Doctor Strange movie?

Whatever the answer, the Marvel machine rolls along, efficient and
amiable and cranking out these mega-franchises with what looks like ease. It is
almost scary how good they’ve gotten at launching these characters, giving me
real hope for such upcoming titles as Black Panther and Captain Marvel, even as
we prepare to say goodbye to some of the first generation heroes. As long as
Marvel keeps offering up delights as persuasive as this one, they’re in good
shape to continue being the kings of the superhero movie.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

dir. James Gunn
published
Pulp & Popcorn

There are several moments where Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 wears its
huge sweet heart on its sleeve, and it was during one of those that I was struck
by just how weird modern blockbusters are, and what a fascinating moment it
is for fans of the fantastic.

Look, I get it. If you don’t like big-canvass fantasy films (and I would say
that broad umbrella covers pretty much everything that is popular in
commercial cinema right now), then you must be miserable when you go to the
movies. Even if that’s not what you’re there to see, it’s what you’re surrounded
by, and it really doesn’t matter if you’re at the arthouse or the crassest
multiplex.

And of all the big megafranchises that are underway right now, none of
them are more cheerfully bizarre than Guardians Of The Galaxy. This is a space
opera that wrapped up its first movie with a dance-off. This is the series that
turned the fat sixth-billed lead from an underperforming sitcom into the
hottest movie star working. This is the film that features among its principal
cast a talking raccoon and a sentient tree. It is wise-assy and ridiculous and big
and colorful and pleased with itself. And if you are on the outside looking in, it
must seem insufferable.
 I will never not be surprised by how well Marvel’s faith in James Gunn
paid off. I like Gunn quite a bit, and I thought his film Super was a real step
forward for him as a director. Even so, I would have never guessed that it
would lead to something like Guardians. Looking back at it, though, it’s not the
huge jump it seems. What unites Gunn’s work, from his earliest effort to now,
is that I get the sense that he loves all of his characters without judgment. His
world view is so expansive that it doesn’t matter if he’s writing his good guys or
his bad guys or just the various crazy aliens crowding in at the edge of the
frame… he writes them all with that same delighted adoration. It’s precisely
because he loves them so much that the audience does, too. The film takes the
time to examine what it is that he loves and why he loves these things, and in
doing so, it makes a terrific case for why we should feel the same way.

Take, for example, Rocket Raccoon. Rocket is a little shit. There’s no

grey area here. He’s a huge pain in the ass for the other Guardians, and for
every good thing he brings to the table, there are five bad habits that make him
hard to take. When he’s an asshole in this film, Rocket really is an asshole. And
because it’s not soft-pedaled, it means more when we see how the other
members of the team react to him and make room for that as part of who he is.
He’s their family, and even if he is a dirty “trash panda,” he is connected to all
of them. Sure, there are other franchises that lean on the “family” angle, and
it’s easy to say. It’s much harder to show how honestly difficult it can be to love
the people in our lives when they hurt us or disappoint us.

So much of what Rocket does is a pre-emptive strike, making sure he’s

got plenty of reasons to not be surprised when people let him down. He lives
his life constantly pushing everyone away in an effort to prove just how alone
he is. He’s the only thing like him that he has ever encountered, and that must
take a very real toll. When I try to imagine a universe in which human beings
on Earth are the only intelligent culture, it terrifies me and makes me feel very,
very small and alone. I need to believe that the universe is big enough that
there is more out there than we have experienced so far. I can’t even imagine
how much worse that existential dread would be if I was the only human being
I had ever seen. When they hired Bradley Cooper instead of someone more
overtly comedy-oriented, it seemed like the wrong choice at first. By the end of
this film, though, I really can’t imagine a different take on Rocket. He’s funny
to me because he’s not played as a joke. When he swears, it makes me laugh
because it’s so matter of fact. And when Yondu (Michael Rooker) finally
confronts Rocket about the anger that is so integral to his identity, there’s
nothing about the sequence that is played as a joke. It’s a very real, painful
emotional sequence, and both the raccoon and the blue space pirate with the
magic stick give beautifully nuanced performances in the moment.

While it isn’t quite the non-stop party the first film felt like, Guardians
Vol. 2 is a better overall movie, and it feels way more cohesive as a story. The
“bad guy,” such as he is, is directly connected to every other part of the story,
and the way things unfold, there’s a familiar feeling to some of the shape, but
the stakes are totally different. Even though we see how large the scale of the
potential threat is, what makes it matter is the investment we have in Star
Lord (Chris Pratt) and Gamora (Zoe Saldana) and Drax (Dave Bautista) and,
yes, Rocket and even Baby Groot (Vin Diesel), who is basically like the best-
case scenario version of Scrat from Ice Age now. Groot’s having his own movie
that unfolds next to the rest of the movie, only occasionally intersecting when
Groot starts to pay attention again. The opening title sequence here is an all-
timer, a remarkable bit of action staging that unfolds as the backdrop to
something else. It’s clever, it’s laugh-out-loud funny, and it kicks off this film’s
soundtrack, designed to be every bit as fiendishly lovable as the first film’s was.
I’d call that crass, but Gunn has a great ear for bubblegum, and whether it’s the
song that was special to Star Lord’s mother and father when they met and fell
in love or a perfectly deployed reprise of a Fleetwood Mac number, everything
feels like it is well-used, placed with thought and affection and not just to tick
some marketing box.

Let’s talk about Kurt Russell, because, goddammit, he’s Kurt Russell.
Perhaps our greatest action buffoon, his appeal comes from the ways he
subverts his own appearance. Kurt Russell looks like a movie star, and he has
been gifted with supernatural hair, whether he’s growing it out long or putting
on a full beard and mustache. But he is a freak deep down at heart, and there
are few things more joyful than Russell demolishing an action archetype. He is
an exciting choice for Ego, the living planet, and part of what makes his role so
exciting is that we have no idea what he wants or even who he is at first. Ego
reveals himself honestly, but in stages, and Russell knows how to play each
stage of that reveal so that he’s drawing Star Lord further and further in. He’s
never lying to him, but he’s not direct or completely honest. Not at first.
There’s a scene about 2/3 of the way into the film between Pratt and Russell
that could have been ridiculous. It could have derailed the film permanently.
And instead, it’s the scene that my youngest son is still talking about four days
later, the emotional highlight of the film for him. I treasure Kurt Russell
because he is willing to play scenes that other people might find too ridiculous.
It’s why Big Trouble In Little China is so great. He may look like he’s the hero of
the movie, but he undercuts that again and again. Here, he’s great at playing
pomp and swagger, and he also seems blissfully unaware of just how weird it is
to have a conversational debate about the existence of his penis.

Gunn does such a good job of juggling all the different stages that things
play out on that it never feels like it becomes episodic. Instead, he sets up a
quiet urgency for each of the storylines in the film, giving great material to
Drax, Rocket, Baby Groot, Yondu, Gamora, Nebula, and even Star Lord.
Russell is the guest here, though, and he proves to fit perfectly into the larger
world that Gunn’s been building. I like this corner of the Marvel Universe. I
love the color palette. I love the details of how they jump from system to
system. I love the various alien races we see in this one, including one very
familiar race with very large heads. I love the threads that Gunn sets up that
could lead to sequels or spin-offs or whole new corners of this canvass, and it’s
genuinely hilarious to see the way he’s brought a few brand-new Marvel
characters to life, even if it’s only for a moment here or a quick cameo there.

Dave Bautista is one of those great big happy accidents, and watching
the choices he makes as Drax, I am constantly delighted by him. He’s got some
lovely softer moments to play in this film, revealing the poet’s soul wrapped in
the Mr. Universe packaging, and watching Bautista swing from gentle and
genuine to over-the-top and outrageous, it’s clear that he’s the real deal, an
actor with a real command of craft. He deserves to find break-out success, and
I hope filmmakers are paying attention. Pom Klementieff is delightful as
Mantis, a liason to Ego the Living Planet, and she has terrific chemistry with
Bautista. If you watch their unfolding interest in one another, it is handled
with humor and tenderness, and I would imagine that it will particularly touch
non-neurotypicals who have found their own particular path to love. When
people get excited about the conversation about representation in movies, it’s
because there is a real power in seeing your own experience somehow
portrayed. It’s one thing to have an afterschool special speak in a very blunt
manner to certain experiences, but to see it handled in metaphor in giant pop
culture blockbusters… that’s totally different, and far more valuable. The
feeling of inclusion that comes with something like that is profound, and
Guardians is about the unconventional, the people who live at what most
people would call the margins. Zoe Saldana and Karen Gillan get more time to
really explore the twisted dynamic between Gamora and Nebula, and sure
enough, it pays off in a deeper appreciation of the characters and in better
work from both performers. It’s always nice when you see a director fall in love
with a performer and just bring them movie to movie, no matter what. That’s
the relationship that Gunn seems to have with Michael Rooker, and we’re the
ones who benefit from it. Yondu gets to show some other facets of his
personality, but not at the expense of the character that we already enjoyed the
first time.

Part of the problem that is almost inherent to the superhero genre is the
idea that you have to maintain a certain status quo in storytelling in order to
perpetuate a series. That sort of dramatic stasis is a trick, and a necessary one
for the sort of publishing that a DC or a Marvel does. Their flagship characters
have been around for decades and decades now, and they have had to hit the
reset button on them dozens of times. Comic book continuity is such an
insane nightmare for the biggest characters that I can’t even pretend I take it
seriously. I simply accept that none of it really works in the bigger picture and
then read what I want to read. If you’re telling a good story month to month,
then the bigger stuff doesn’t matter. With movies, you’re moving much faster
in terms of overall storytelling, and that’s because the production of each
installment of the story is much slower than it is in comics. James Gunn is
already writing Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3, and that’s great. I’m excited to
see it. But how long do you think that’s going to continue? One film after this?
Two? Three at the very most? And who can blame him? James Gunn’s a
talented cat who was already plenty busy telling his own stories before he
jumped into the Marvel game. He can’t do this for the rest of his life. So in
these films, there are real changes to these characters, and Gunn doesn’t seem
like he’s hedging his bets. He’s not holding it back for something further down
the road.

As a result, by the end of this film, things have changed dramatically for
Star-Lord, who has spent his entire life wondering about his parentage. He
goes from having no idea who his father is to realizing that he is essentially a
demi-Celestial, with a god for a father. And he has an equally quick ride from
being thrilled by the reunion to being consumed by rage, and watching what it
is that throws that switch in him is heartbreaking. So many superheroes are
defined by trauma of some sort, and for Peter Quill, it’s the loss of his mother.
That hospital sequence at the start of the first film is important because it
establishes just how brutal that was for Peter. He had to watch his vivacious
beautiful mother be eaten alive by the cancer inside her. One of the things that
makes cancer such a nightmare is that it doesn’t just kill you… it transforms
you, stealing everything that defines you and hollowing you out. That
transformation is emotionally savage, and it leaves a deep mark on Quill.
Because he’s so far from home, every detail becomes romanticized, larger than
life, which is why those mix tapes matter so much to him. These are the things
that connect him to who he is and where he came from, and they are precious
to him.

Watching him learn to make new things (and new people) precious to
him is genuinely affecting, and while the first film brought this unlikely group
together, this is the film where we watch them deal with the much more
difficult part of the process, simply holding things together over time. We are
all tested constantly by things in life, and how we let those things affect us
absolutely affects the family around us. The Fast and Furious movies spend a lot
of time talking about family, and that’s one of the things that fans of those
films really love about them. For me, Guardians is the big franchise that gets
family right. They don’t just show the good parts; there is a big chunk of this
movie that focuses on the frustrations and the fury that come with family, and
how we have to learn to embrace all of it if we’re going to survive one another.
There is more raw emotion in any half-hour of this film than you get out of
some entire film festivals, and that’s because Gunn finds the right moments,
the quiet spaces amidst the noise and the carnage, and he is willing to stop
everything so that Gamora might, for just a moment, no longer be the most
Dangerous Woman In The Galaxy and might, instead, simply dance. He’s more
excited by the notion that Yondu’s villainy might be something almost noble in
disguise than he is by the typical big whammy beats of superhero movies. And
while he takes obvious glee in the comic license that comes with Drax’s
inability to understand a metaphor and he gets a lot of mileage out of
Bautista’s big belly laugh, he knows that a quiet honest word from this warrior
carries the biggest punch.

Much more than “just” a space adventure or a comic book movie, this is
James Gunn imagining a world where the weird might somehow become
stronger together, and where you can save an entire galaxy… twice… because
you have learned that you must never break the chain. We are Groot, now and
forever.

Thor: Ragnarok
dir. Taika Waititi
published
Pulp & Popcorn

Why do people like comic book movies?

If that question seems broad, that’s by design. You can’t give me a

definitive answer, and not only because different people like things for
different reasons. The overall designation of “comic book movies” covers so
many different types of films at this point that it’s impossible to lump them all
in together. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Case in point: Marvel’s latest release, Thor Ragnarok. The film falls right
into the larger continuity known by fans as the MCU (for Marvel Cinematic
Universe), and it also satisfies narrative threads laid down in the first two films
in the Thor series. It is very much a “comic book movie,” but it is a clear case of
a filmmaker bringing their voice to something in a way that is satisfying way
beyond the basic requirements of the genre. You can try to lump films as
different as Batman Begins, Blade II, and Thor Ragnarok into one category, but
why? They’re all so different, and the strongest thing any of these films can do
is push against the conventions of what people expect, because that expands
the potential of what these films can be. Every time you see a “comic book
movie” that pushes more into comedy or mystery or family drama or whatever,
taking the time to pay due respect to that side of things as well as the
superhero or fantastical elements, then that’s good and healthy because the
next time someone can go even further.

It’s impossible to overstate the importance of Iron Man for Marvel. That
film proved that a certain attitude, a certain fealty to the source material, and a
certain amount of world-building would all work as the foundations for
something bigger, something that might actually work on screen the way the
comics always worked together on the page. The second most important film
for the company would have to be The Avengers, which proved that their grand
plan of crossover movies that connected to form a bigger picture could actually
work and pay off both creatively and commercially. If there is a third most
important film, I would argue that it’s Guardians Of The Galaxy. The entire time
that film was in production, I argued with my editor at HitFix, Greg Ellwood,
who had zero faith that audiences would show up for a movie about a low-rent
Han Solo ripoff, a talking raccoon, and a walking tree. And while I was
adamant that it would work, and even moreso after I visited the set in London,
he simply didn’t buy it. Who can blame him? It was a much weirder corner of
the Marvel universe, and it didn’t immediately look like everything else the
studio had released.

But that’s what was so beautiful and risky and impressive about it. They
hired James Gunn, and James Gunn believed so completely that Guardians
could be a movie, and that it had to look and sound a certain way, and despite
the weird roadmap of Gunn’s career before that point, they had enough faith
to back his big strange vision, and it worked better than the studio could have
ever dared to hope. In doing so, they have once again evolved the template for
the studio, and for the first time, it really does feel like filmmakers have finally
found a place where their voices are allowed to shine while still working in the
house style in some important ways.

Taika Waititi has been slowly and steadily building one hell of a
filmography in his own particular pond, with both What We Do In The Shadows
and Hunt For The Wilderpeople standing out in their respective years of release.
He’s got a wicked sense of humor, and I think he loves the absurd. He loves
ridiculous people. He loves people who are knowingly, openly weird. He also
loves earnestness and knows that it can be hilarious. He finds odd, surprising,
sweet grace notes in his films, and he clearly adores his actors. Whoever had
the idea of putting him together with what could easily have been the
grimmest of the Marvel films, given the subject matter, should probably get a
big fat Christmas bonus this year, because Waititi absolutely knocked Thor
Ragnarok out of the park.

I like both of the Thor movies, but I think they both also have major
flaws. The first film was stiff, a little too blunt with the storytelling, but it did a
nice job of establishing how magic fit into the Marvel universe. By treating
Asgard as a science-fiction locale, it made it feel like it wasn’t a huge jump from
what had already been introduced, and the chemistry between Tom
Hiddleston’s Loki and Chris Hemsworth’s Thor was so good that the
weaknesses in the storytelling weren’t as big a deal. The fish-out-of-water thing
worked thematically, but it also felt like a huge cheat in order to keep the
budget down. That final showdown appears to take place in a town that is
about one block wide. Thor The Dark World certainly had a larger sense of scale,
but it was frustrating as storytelling. More than almost any other Marvel film,
this one feels like a chapter, not a movie, a placeholder to keep the Thor
franchise on track. The one thing it did that I really liked was the ending,
where Loki managed to take Asgard, disguising himself as Odin, who he made
sure was absent. By making everyone think he was dead, Loki won a fairly
decisive victory, and for several years now, that plot thread’s been hanging out
there, Loki in power, Thor totally unaware.

Wisely, this new film dispatches with unneeded plot threads in an almost
off-hand way, like when someone on the streets of New York tells Thor they’re
sorry that Jane Foster broke up with him. “I broke up with her,” he protests,
convincing absolutely no one, and then we’re on to the next thing, and that’s
fine. Honestly, the girlfriend stuff is the least memorable part of the Thor
films, and that’s because they just didn’t give Jane enough of a reason to be in
the films. She’s instrumental in the first film, but in the second film, she fels
like she’s been downgraded to “plot device,” and it’s a waste of someone as
talented as Natalie Portman. Waititi and screenwriters Eric Pearson and Craig
Kyle & Christopher Yost have built one of the most efficient and focused
Marvel films in a while, focusing on the dreams that were introduced (poorly)
in Avengers Age Of Ultron. As the film opens, Thor finds himself chained and
hanging upside down in… well, Hell. Sitting there on a throne, ready to head to
Asgard to begin Ragnarok, is Surtur, a giant demon being made of flame.

Right away, what’s clear is that Waititi has found a way to respect the
reality of the world while also savoring the absurdity of the world. That’s tricky,
because if you take it too seriously, your jokes won’t land, and if you take it too
lightly, none of the stakes feel important. Chris Hemsworth is no longer a
secret weapon when it comes to comedy. He’s good in Vacation, even if I didn’t
like the film, and he is one of the most consistently hilarious parts of Paul
Feig’s Ghostbusters, contributing some truly left-field humor to the mix. He’s
always enjoyed the comedy in the movies where he’s played Thor, whether in
his solo films or in the Avengers movies, but from the very beginning of this
one, he is next-level funny. It is no secret that Tom Hiddleston is also back, and
he gives Loki some new dimensions this time. Hemsworth and Hiddleston
have so much fun together that you don’t really need anyone else in the mix.

But, oh, Tessa Thompson.

When Thor ends up on on Sakaar, a planet on the other side of the

galaxy, he is discovered by Valkyrie (Thompson), who he learns is an exile from
Asgard. She swaggers into the film in her first scene, and from that moment
until the film ends, she’s onscreen almost continuously, and she is amazing. She
moves like someone who is used to violence, someone who has been so good at
fighting for so long that it’s just muscle memory at this point. She hardly has to
think about what she’s doing. Even when she’s shit-faced drunk, which is pretty
much the entire film, she’s an amazing force to be reckoned with. Thompson
carries herself like she’s been making superhero films her entire life. We also
meet Jeff Goldblum as the Grandmaster, the ruler of Sakaar. He’s the one who
created the gladiator games that he wants Thor to play in, but Thor doesn’t
want any part of it. Goldblum is exactly as delightfully weird as you think he’s
going to be, and he looks like he’s having a wonderful time, all the way up to
the very last second of running time. He’s got a soft spot for Valkyrie, and
small wonder. Considering she sells Thor within a few minutes of finding him,
it’s interesting to see how her arc plays out. She gets the emotional side of
things right, the physical side, and it’s delightful to see that she’s not here just
to be Thor’s new girlfriend. She is a warrior, and when she finally takes up
arms, she does it for herself, and she does it in a way that makes it clear that
she is no mere sidekick. She has terrific fun playing off Goldblum, she has great
chemistry with Hemsworth and Hiddleston, and she has a great relationship
with the Hulk.

Oh, man, do I love the Hulk. Since The Avengers, Marvel’s track record
with Big Green has been impeccable. Mark Ruffalo is great as Bruce Banner,
but he does not get enough credit for how great he is as the Hulk. There have
been some changes by the time we see him show up in this film, and it’s
interesting to see how they’re drawing from some ideas from Planet Hulk, a
light sprinkling of some of what they’ve been doing in The Tota"y Awesome Hulk,
and how they’ve carefully picked up the threads from the various movies Hulk
has shown up in so far. Waititi has enormous fun with the dynamic between
Thor and Hulk, as well as Loki’s well-earned fear of the Hulk. He also brings in
Doctor Strange for an extended sequence that is an absolute riot, and it sets up
a new relationship that I hope we get to see more of in future films.

If it seems like I’ve been tiptoeing around plot, it’s because the actual
story of the film is well-built and deserves to unfold for the audience as they
watch. It’s interesting to see how far Marvel went to digitally alter sequences
and settings and characters in the trailers in order to preserve some mystery
about how things work. One of the few things they did not mislead you about
is the use of “Immigrant Song” by Led Zeppelin, and I have to admit…
watching a bunch of insane superhero mayhem explode while that song plays in
the absolute state of the art theatrical sound is about as pop as my pop
culture’s likely to get this year, and I like it.

I’ll simply say about Cate Blanchett that she is just as dedicated here as
she is in things like Carol or Blue Jasmine. She wouldn’t know how to show up
for a paycheck if she tried. She positively snarls her way through her role as
Hela, and she is terrific, both gorgeous and grotesque. As Skurge, the new
keeper of the Bifrost in the absence of Heimdall, Karl Urban is outstanding.
He may get overshadowed by Tessa Thompson because of screen time, but he
makes the most of every scene. From his slimy introduction to his final stand,
Skurge is an intriguing new character, and yet it doesn’t feel like he’s more than
the movie can handle. There’s plenty of room for everyone to shine, including
Waititi himself as the voice of Korg, a giant rock gladiator on Sakaar, and Idris
Elba, who finally seems to have something to do as Heimdall.

Mark Mothersbaugh’s written one of the most fun scores from any
Marvel film so far, and I cannot say enough good about the work by Javier
Aguirresarobe. He’s a great photographer, and when he’s got something like
Blue Jasmine or A Better Life or The Road to shoot, he is able to bring real
sensitivity to his work. Even on the most mainstream of mainstream films he’s
shot, like Goosebumps or The Twilight Saga: Eclipse, he’s got a sense of the florid
and overheated, and that’s perfect for this hyper-candy-colored world. The
production design by Dan Hennah and Ra Vincent is huge and expressive and
gorgeous, and it is richly detailed no matter where you look.

It’s amazing that they’ve been able to continually breathe new life into
the overall plan that Marvel has for these characters, but when you see just
how confident, vibrant, and clever this film is, one thing about Taika Waititi is
evident: he is 100% worthy, and the power of Thor is his. No doubt about it.
Black Panther
dir. Ryan Coogler
published
Pulp & Popcorn

Simply put, Black Panther is a thrilling fantasy-adventure with a vivid new

palette, a superhero film that manages to feel like it packs in about eight
different types of modern blockbusters into one big sprawling introduction to
a world that is so big that it feels like the screen’s barely able to hold it all.

The conversation about the “best” Marvel movie is a silly one. At this
point, they’ve gotten good enough at hitting a consistent level of quality, and
now it’s about what flavor you prefer. If you like crazy outer-space comedy shot
through with dysfunctional family issues, the Guardians of the Galaxy movies
have you covered. The Thor films seem to have finally figured out the right
tone for mythology wrapped in science-fiction. The most recent Spider-Man
film tried something novel by making him an actual high school student in a
John Hughes film. At this point, the superpowers are the least interesting
things about these movies, which is exactly why they work.

There’s no single model for what director Ryan Coogler’s up to here, but
it’s clear that he has looked at all sorts of popular filmmaking and then, instead
of simply imitating it, he’s thought about how to subvert or reinvent the
various touchstones and archetypes he’s playing with in a way that not only
ends up specific to the character of T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), but that
also serves as an important demonstration of what happens when you give the
same toys to filmmakers with radically different cultural perspective. Black
Panther is joyously black, celebrating it in the choices that are made regarding
costumes, production design, story, and character. This is not just the same old
thing dressed up in a new way, and that’s because Coogler and his co-writer Joe
Robert Cole have used these parts to make their own thing, their way. This is
part spy movie, part family drama, part ethical debate about the
responsibilities we have to each other as a global community. It is also a
preposterously jam-packed ensemble in which we’re introduced to a dense
supporting cast of characters all worth further exploration.
 Ryan Coogler’s films so far (Fruitvale Station and Creed) are about
characters who want to be seen, who want to matter as much as anyone else,
and Black Panther leans into that theme as well, giving Michael B. Jordan one of
the best blockbuster villain roles in a while. Erik Killmonger may be a
standard-issue on-the-nose comic book bad guy name, but he’s written the way
most great villains are: he’s right. What he wants and why he wants it… he’s got
a case, and he makes it pretty persuasively. His anger is a righteous anger,
coming from a place of having been erased from his country’s history and his
family’s history, and he wants not only to be seen and acknowledged now, but
also to lead the way for real change around the world. While Boseman is the
lead here, and we’ll definitely talk more about him, Jordan is the one who gives
this film its pulse, and it is wild and dangerous as a result.

After all, Wakanda is this remarkable nation, this fairy tale that has been
kept a secret from a world, an African nation that was struck in the distant
past by a meteor made of vibranium, a metal that gives humans superpowers,
that gives technology a boost past anything from Earth, and that transforms
the very land around it. Their nation realized the power of this custodial role
they’ve been given, and they chosen to hide this technology and these advances
from the outside world. “But why?” is the question that never quite gets asked
here, but it gets answered loudly by everything we see. After all, western
culture’s history is written in the blood of colonialism. You can list the
advances that have spread around the world as Europe and America built
empires, but you can’t deny that empire building is done by force, and that
progress is frequently delivered by trauma. Wakanda, because it took itself off
of the world table, has never had any outside influence. Its architecture, its art,
its technology, and its culture has all been allowed to flourish at a remove, and
that game of “what if ?” that the film plays is one of its most tactile and
ongoing pleasures. There’s always something new to look at, some corner of
things to explore, and this feels like career defining work from production
designer Hannah Beachler, the art direction team led by Alan Hook, set
decorator Jay Hart, and especially the great Ruth E. Carter, who has dressed
Wakanda with a rich and playful sense of style. Jordan’s character looks at
Wakanda, looks at the power of the weapons they have built for their own
defense and the strength of the people they have built in a nation where no
one has ever had to live in chains, and he wants that for the world. He wants to
transform the world into Wakanda for all people of color. He doesn’t want to
see anyone who looks like him held down or hurt again, one of the most
relatable, basic, primary drives for a character. There is something at the heart
of his plan that makes a desperate, broken sense.

The biggest obstacle to his plan is, of course, that he is not the king of
Wakanda. T’Challa is, and the first hour of the film is really about the
transition that he makes from the son of T’Chaka (John Kani), the fallen king,
to the man who must now wear the crown. We saw the beginning of that in
Captain America: Civil War, but this film does a more than adequate job of
standing alone, offering up all the information any viewer would need. We see
the way the traditions of Wakanda work, and we see how important ritual is to
their culture. We also see, though, the way progress and the past rub up against
each other and the stresses caused by that friction, and we see how T’Challa
has to find his own path as a leader between what has been and what could be.
Now that he’s been out in the world, now that he’s been forced to look at
Wakanda’s place in the world, he’s feeling some of those same things that
Killmonger is feeling. It’s smart writing, and it gives him way more to do here
than just chase and fight bad guys. He’s juggling relationships with his family
and with the people in his life, and Coogler makes each of those relationships
feel important. There’s Nakia (Lupito Nyong’o), who is clearly as drawn to
T’Challa as he is to her, but whose work as a spy outside of Wakanda’s borders
keeps her perpetually just out of reach. She is the one who really starts to push
T’Challa to question the decision to continually keep their nation in the
shadows, hiding what makes them special, keeping their advances from people
who might benefit from them. There’s Okoye (Danai Gurira), the leader of the
Dora Milaje, the warriors who protect the Wakandan throne. She is pretty
much tradition personified, rigid and impossible to corrupt. W’Kabi (Daniel
Kaluuya) is one of T’Challa’s closest friends, but his desire to find and punish
Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis) for his role in his father’s death has started to
curdle into something ugly. There’s M’Baku (Winston Duke), leader of a
mountain region who challenges T’Challa for the throne, his grievance at being
marginalized within his country a seemingly valid one. All of them are given
room to breathe as characters, written beyond a few cursory surface details.
This is what blockbusters should try and do. Why shouldn’t ever single corner
of your world feel this fully fleshed-out?

One of my favorite choices in the film is the way Shuri (Letitia Wright) is
positioned to be the Q to her brother’s James Bond. She’s a princess, but she is
a scientist pushing her country’s entire technological foundation forward by
leaps and bounds. She’s Tony Stark-level smart, which is Marvel shorthand for
saying “super-genius,” and she deserves to become a major player in the larger
MCU. Like Okoye and Nakia, she is written as strong and capable and, most
importantly, human as any of the other characters in the film, and that’s the big
surprise of Black Panther. We knew the film was going to offer a very strong
black point-of-view, but I had no idea it was going to be so ferociously
feminine as well. It is to the film’s enormous benefit, too, because these
characters jump off the screen. They are new. They may be, in many cases, riffs
off of existing types, but this film doesn’t really exist before now. There’s not
one clear thing you can point at and say, “You know… it’s like that.” The third
act does indeed feature a big battle, and there are several stages of conflict
going on involving glowing doodads, something I have lamented repeatedly,
but it is to Coogler’s enormous credit that you can point at how well he makes
you care about the various stages of conflict, how he’s made sure you’re not just
rooting for and against characters in simple ways, and how he’s made the stakes
both personal and universal. There’s no easy answer for how this should end,
and that’s what keeps an audience genuinely invested.

Also, there are battle rhinos, and that is badass.

When 42 came out, it was a big deal in the McWeeny house. My oldest
son was in Little League at the time, and when we walked out of the movie, he
told me that he thought Jackie Robinson was the greatest and that he wanted
to wear his number. Toshi watched the film repeatedly, and he really fell in love
with Chadwick Boseman. Because he watched the film so many times, so did I,
and while I liked Boseman a lot on first viewing, I really came to appreciate
what a nuanced and subtle actor he is. He plays things close, which is one of
the lovely things about working on film. That’s been true as he’s continued
working, and it’s the special quality he brings to his work as T’Challa. Much of
his journey in this film is internal, and that’s not always the easiest thing to sell.
Part of the process of becoming the king of Wakanda and wearing the mantle
of the Black Panther is participating in a ritual that takes you to the afterlife to
see your ancestors. What Boseman does so well after that sequence is allow you
to see the way the knowledge he gained in that scene continues to make its way
through him, like slow-moving shrapnel. T’Challa never has a moment in this
film to simply sit and get centered. He is constantly challenged, constantly
pushed, constantly having to defend not only his own life and the lives of his
loved ones and his people, but also the very idea of what Wakanda is and who
he is and what the Black Panther stands for. Playing that kind of strength and
playing someone who can change while still holding onto some core idea of
who he is seems like a pretty big challenge, and Boseman not only does it, but
he has fun doing it. He wears this character like he was born to it, and when
the MCU works best, it works because it finds the perfect combination of
character, actor, and creative team.

That’s definitely the case here, and if Boseman continues making these
films, here’s hoping he’s not the only one who comes back. Wakanda is a
community now, with Ryan Coogler leading an army who came together to
make something special, and I suspect this is only our first visit to this
remarkable place.

Avengers: Infinity War

dir. Joe and Anthony Russo
published April 24, 2018
Nerdist

When I was very young, I remember my first exposure to Marvel

Comics.

I was at the store with my mom, and I saw several paperbacks, each one
containing some early issues of Marvel series. I went home that day with The
Amazing Spider-Man Vol 1, Fantastic Four Vol. 1, and Incredible Hulk Vol 1. Each of
them started with the origin appearances for the characters, reprinting their
earliest story arcs. By the time I finished those three books, I was completely
onboard, sold on not only those particular characters but also the Marvel
approach. At the time, the character had been around for just over fifteen
years. Marvel was definitely a commercial force, but it also still felt young
enough that I was able to claim it as my own. My parents may have had
Superman and Batman growing up, but Spider-Man and The Human Torch and
Ben Grimm and the Hulk… they were mine. They were human and they were
fallible. They fascinated me immediately, and in the four decades since then,
comic books have been in and out of my life, depending largely on time and
money.

Even when I stopped actively collecting or reading titles, I would try to

occasionally check in. There was something about the characters that made
them feel like they were part of my life, like friends I’d lost touch with but who
I knew would always be there if I reached out. Every time I came back to
Marvel, there’d be some new twist, some reinvention, some way they would try
to keep the characters alive and relevant. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it
didn’t. But there was always a sense that they’d built that foundation strong
enough that they could experiment and fumble and still find a way to make it
all work.

Covering the last decade of Marvel movies has been a challenge and a
pleasure. I was there early, covering the production of comic book movies
starting with Batman and Robin and Spawn, two films I sent information about
to Ain’t It Cool News back in the prehistoric days of the Internet. Even before
Nick Fury mentioned a larger world to Tony Stark onscreen, I’d had those
conversations with Kevin Feige and Avi Arad, and I knew they were hungry to
create a larger world where these heroes could interact. Avi saw that as the
ultimate toy commercial, a chance to create endless variations on the same
basic action figure line, but Kevin saw it as a toybox for storytellers. He saw it
as a chance to try to convey to the larger mainstream audience the exact things
that made the Marvel faithful fall in love in the first place.

That’s what works best in comic book movies. You have to love the thing
you’re making. You can’t do it because it’s cool, or because it’s a trend, or
because you think it could be commercial. You have to love these things.
Richard Donner’s Superman The Movie is brimming over with affection for the
Man of Steel, Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man is absolutely giddy about web-swinging,
and Tim Burton’s Batman feels like it is dizzy in love… maybe with the Joker
instead of Batman, but the love is real nonetheless. From Iron Man on, the
Marvel Studios movies have been made with a genuine and deeply-seeded
passion for the source material and for the characters themselves. Over the
course of the 18 films they’ve made so far, they have had good films and
mediocre films and, occasionally, great films, but one thing has been true in
every one of the films they’ve made so far: they care about these characters and
the way they fit into this world they’re building.

And what is that world? What is the cumulative weight of 18 films of

world-building? Because the world they presented in the original Iron Man,
directed by Jon Favreau, was pretty much ours, complete with MySpace. Tony
Stark was a weapons dealer, a billionaire, and a giant asshole. Steve Rogers was
frozen in ice somewhere, Bruce Banner was already on the run, and the nation
of Wakanda was a secret, carefully guarded from the outside world. Hank Pym
had done some secret government work as well, so clearly there had been some
superpowered shenanigans at some point, and I’m sure we’ll learn even more
about the past in next year’s Captain Marvel, which is set largely in the ‘90s.
Much has changed in the Marvel Universe since then. There was a Vice-
President arrested for attempted murder, for example, and most of our military
arm was revealed to be compromised by Hydra at one point, including the
secret super-police with the flying battleships. Aliens poured from a hole in the
sky over New York and murderous robots tried to destroy us all by dropping a
European city on itself. There are real gods, evidently, and they sometimes
come to Earth and mess stuff up real bad, and every now and then, all of these
super good guys seem to fight each other for some reason. Most significantly,
Wakanda has come out from under cover now, radically reshaping the world’s
socio-economic character. We haven’t seen that last part, but how can it not?
Marvel has set an amazing stage for Avengers: Infinity War, and my only real
question walking into the theater was, “How can they possibly bring all of this
together in a way that works as an actual movie?”

You’ll be shocked how well they pull it off. I was.

First and foremost, this is the Empire Strikes Back of the Marvel
Cinematic Universe. If you treat everything they’ve made so far as one giant
franchise, then this is the chapter where everything lands on our heroes with
both feet. Everything has built to this, and they somehow make it still feel like
a story, not a whole bunch of fan service thrown in front of a camera. That was
not a foregone conclusion, and one of the things I’m curious about is how
hardcore longtime comic book fans are going to react to the film versus people
whose love of these characters comes primarily from the films. I suspect they
will be very different reactions at first, because the longtime faithful are going
to walk into this film feeling like they already know most of what they’ll see.
That is not the case. This film is not terribly concerned with adapting any
previous takes on Thanos or his quest for the Infinity Stones, and anyone
expecting a date with Death is going to go home disappointed. Thanos and his
reasons for killing half the universe (still very much his goal) have been
reimagined, and it’s clear that the only thing that matters is the world that has
been created for the movies. These versions of the characters. These
relationships. This history, established over the last decade.
 You’ll see reviewers tie themselves up in knots to tiptoe around this plot
point or that plot point, or they’ll spoil something but claim they had to. Why?
Plot is not what matters here. Broken down to the essentials, you already know
the plot. There is a bad guy. He wants to do something. The heroes don’t want
him to do the thing. So they all head off in different directions to get the
things to stop him, and they have to race the clock to come together and save
the day. That’s the plot of every movie like this, and it will likely continue to be
the plot of every movie like this. Avengers Infinity War simply does it on a larger
scale.

What I found most interesting was how the film managed to make most
of its 19 million characters feel essential. Far more of a sequel to Thor Ragnarok
and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 than Black Panther or even the other Avengers
films, Avengers Infinity War does a remarkable job of juggling all of the different
tones and characters that Marvel has introduced. When we’re in Doctor
Strange’s Sanctum, it feels like we’re in Doctor Strange. When we cut to space, it
feels like you’re watching Guardians of the Galaxy. The stuff inside Wakanda has
its own feel, its own style. Directors Joe and Anthony Russo haven’t just made
a Marvel movie that pays full respect to the various characters in it. They’ve
also made a Marvel movie that pays tribute to the filmmakers who got them
here. It is more than a greatest hits or another crossover. It is a movie that
finally pulls back far enough for us to glimpse the full scope of the Marvel
Universe that’s been created, even as it is all put to the test.

2018 will be remembered as the year that Marvel nailed the bad guy. First
there was Killmonger in Black Panther, beautifully written and masterfully
played by Michael B. Jordan. What made Killmonger so provocative was how
clearly he made the case for his anger. His fury was justified, even if his actions
weren’t. Here, Josh Brolin’s Thanos emerges as the most fully-written bad guy
any of the Marvel heroes have had to face, and I was surprised by how quickly
the performance capture creation of Thanos stopped looking like an effect and
started feeling like a performance. Brolin makes a captivating case for the Mad
Titan as genuinely believing that killing half of the universe will deliver the
other half to a paradise where they no longer have to fight for survival. Because
his fight is a righteous one, Thanos is as driven by his own moral compass as
the Avengers are, and that’s what makes him especially dangerous. Thanos
doesn’t want to rule. He doesn’t want power for the sake of it. He’s not looking
for praise or worship. What he wants is simply to redistribute the wealth of the
universe through one act of sheer brute force.

It’s strange to think there was a time when playing a superhero was silly,
when the entire genre was approached with a good degree of skepticism. The
list of actors who are all giving this film everything they’ve got is impressive:
Robert Downey Jr, Chris Evans, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson, Mark
Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pratt, Tom Hiddleston, Benedict
Cumberbatch, Zoe Saldana, Chadwick Boseman, Tom Holland, Paul Bettany…
at this point, it’s almost impossible to make a film and not have some sort of
overlap with someone from the Marvel Universe. Johansson feels like she’s the
most short-changed of the longtime franchise regulars here. There’s a quick
nod at resolving some of the dangling story threads between her and Ruffalo’s
Bruce Banner, but the end of the world hardly seems like the time for them to
clarify whether or not they’re dating. Not having powers is one of the things
that makes me like Black Widow overall in this series, because she’s putting
herself in harm’s way knowing full well that she’s the least equipped person on
the battlefield, every single time. She’s long since established herself as loyal
and brave and capable, but in some ways, her normalcy is what hinders her in
terms of being valuable to the Russos and screenwriters Christopher Markus
and Stephen McFeely.

That’s especially true here, because Avengers Infinity War is the most
comic booky comic book movie that Marvel has ever attempted, and it’s not a
film they could have gotten away with ten years ago. They had to use a decade
of these movies to slowly educate the mainstream audience about what kinds
of things might happen here, and it feels like they have been saving up
moments they could finally drop here. A good portion of the fun simply comes
from seeing these characters all finally meet one another. Some of those
meetings go well. Others decidedly do not. But because we’ve gotten to know
everyone, all of the meetings ring true. In some cases, our knowledge of what’s
come before helps set up the reactions the characters have, and in some cases,
the characters have been forewarned about each other, leading to fun friction.
The honesty of the reactions also extends to the way they fragment the various
groups into new configurations. For the most part, it makes sense for
characters to end up divided the way they are. It works because it pushes
familiar characters into new contexts, and it sets new characters right up
against beloved oldies in ways that make them both seem fresh.
 As someone who fell head over heels for Spider-Man all those years ago,
and who still considers Peter Parker to be the perfect Marvel creation, I was
delighted to see how well Spider-Man is used in the film, and how well Tom
Holland embodies the character. He continues to be a perfect foil for Robert
Downey Jr’s. Tony Stark, and I’m impressed by how well they pay off the
storyline about the PTSD that Tony’s been grappling with since the Battle of
New York back in the original Avengers film. After all, Stark was our way into
this new movie universe in the first place, and it makes sense to keep his
emotional journey front and center here. The film also nimbly exploits the
bonds between the Guardians of the Galaxy characters and Thanos, and while
the Guardians provide some of the film’s biggest laughs, their story arc also
provides some of the most difficult, emotional material. I have a soft spot for
the Guardians, since they are the Broken Toys of the Marvel universe, the team
that shouldn’t work at all, and it feels like the Russos know just how much the
emotional well-being of that team matters to us as viewers.

One of the best big action scenes in the film comes early in New York,
but every single set piece here offers a wealth of things to love. Seeing the
various combinations work together, seeing how they try to problem-solve
their way through the sequences, it’s clear that they’ve worked hard to justify
every character’s inclusion. The sheer size of the final sequence in Wakanda is
too much for all of it to register, and there’s a surprising amount of what feels
like The Phantom Menace influence in the way it’s been staged. Even so, the film
keeps throwing oversized gauntlet-sized punches right to the end of the closing
credits, landing the majority of them. Where I think some mainstream
audiences may be confounded is with the way this film closes. It is not a
conventional choice, nor will it be a popular choice. But it’s the right choice,
and it is a huge provocation. I can’t wait to see Captain Marvel and Ant-Man
and the Wasp and see how they play with us as an audience, because one thing’s
for sure: Marvel is still just warming up and stretching their legs. By building
this world the way they have, and by bringing to life this incredibly deep bench
of characters, they have built the single biggest playground in pop culture.

Even if they did just burn the whole damn thing down.
Ant-Man and the Wasp (and Incredibles 2)
dir. Peyton Reed
published
Pulp & Popcorn

As we sat waiting for Marvel’s latest offering, Ant-Man and the Wasp, I
spotted Brad Bird and his kids looking for seats. I didn’t bother him; the last
thing anyone wants when they’re out for an evening with the family is to get
cornered by a journalist.

It was nice to see them out together, though, and it was a reminder that
I originally got to know Bird as a film fan first. Way back in the early days of
my life in Los Angeles, when I was a video store clerk at Dave’s Video, Brad
Bird was one of our most ardent customers. It was a laserdisc-only store, and
he devoured everything that we stocked. He was a fan of new movies, but he
was definitely a scholar of old movies. At that point, I knew him from a short
film he did for Amazing Stories, and the very first time he came in, we talked
about both Family Dog and a film he almost made called Ray Gunn, an animated
SF noir thriller. He was in the store often, and when he’d bring a stack of films
up to the counter, it would spur a conversation about this production designer
or that cinematographer or the young character actor who stole the movie or
the screenwriter whose structural trick is so smart. He loved films right down
to their nuts and bolts, and he’s the kind of film fan who takes the engine apart
specifically so he can rebuild it and see how it runs. It doesn’t surprise me to
see him out for a morning at the movies with his family, and considering their
place on the blockbuster landscape right now, it’s not particularly shocking to
see him at a superhero film.

You don’t really have to wonder what he thinks of the genre; his long-
awaited The Incredibles 2 is a beautiful statement on the potential of the
superhero story, a strong film about family that also makes a strong case for
something I’ve suspected for a while. I would imagine he walked away happy
after seeing Ant-Man and The Wasp, which is also a strong film about family that
makes the same case for something I’ve suspected for a while. The two would
make a delightful double-feature, and the very different ways they accomplish
their goals makes them a terrific study in how two filmmakers can approach
the same basic tasks in the same mainstream space and still end up with
something personal.
 It can be hard to judge a filmmaker by the final product when you’re
talking about Pixar, though, because their story department, still one of the
best in the business, is a collaborative affair. It’s something they’ve always been
very open about, and their process depends on being willing to throw things
out and start over if they have to do it. Bird also spent years at The Simpsons,
another creative situation where it’s the combination of voices that creates the
end product. He’s certainly not above collaboration or afraid of collaboration.

The same is true of anyone who works for Marvel Studios. While the
studio seems to be moving into a more mature, relaxed mode of management,
allowing room for greater and greater displays of individual voice within the
structure of their larger ongoing free-floating franchise, they absolutely have a
voice and a control over the final product that means that you have to know
how to work within that system. Peyton Reed ended up stepping in when
Edgar Wright tapped out on Ant-Man, and the difference between the two of
them as filmmakers goes deeper than just which one of them got a higher mark
on “works and plays well with others” on their report card. Edgar’s movies are
about Edgar as much as they’re about anything else, and he’s from a school of
filmmaking where that’s exactly the point. It’s no accident he loves filmmakers
like Joe Dante or Brian DePalma or Quentin Tarantino.

After all, their work is about the movies they love as much as it’s about
people or stories, and each of their films serves as a summation of some part of
what it is that they love. They are film brat filmmakers, and the worlds they
build in their films are self-contained and insular. Baby Driver and Shaun of the
Dead and Scott Pilgrim and Hot Fuzz all take place in very specific film worlds,
and when you’re watching them, you’re in those worlds completely. The Marvel
universe is the Marvel universe, and each of these films is meant to somehow
click into the larger whole. The greatest test of that we’ve seen so far came in
Avengers: Infinity War, and the way those different tones played against each
other was a big part of the tension of that movie. When Edgar dropped out of
Ant-Man, it wasn’t a huge shock, as dedicated as I know he was to making that
film and making it well. He had great ideas for it, and it never would have
ended up in the modern Marvel landscape if he hadn’t believed in the idea first.
Marvel wasn’t really considering the character until he pitched his take, and he
worked on it for several years before parting ways with them. There’s a lot of
his thinking in the first film, and Peyton Reed had a difficult job on that film,
stepping in and not only building off of Edgar’s good ideas but also finding a
way to make his own movie in the process.

Like Brad Bird, I know that Peyton Reed comes to these things from a
very genuine place. The first time I met him was at Comic-Con, where he
wasn’t on a panel or promoting his own work. He was just another nerd in the
audience, watching other people talk about making the things that he loves,
and we talked a little bit about the work he was hoping to do on Fantastic Four
for Fox. If you’ve seen his film Down With Love, you might think that an odd fit
calling card for a film about Marvel’s first family, but it made perfect sense to
me. I think of the Fantastic Four as occupying a very specific place in the
comic pantheon. They are the face of the optimistic pop ‘60s, the era of the
astronauts and the Beatles and early James Bond, the era of JFK’s promise,
before the brutal reality kicked in.

I mean, I love that there was a time when we made rock stars out of
scientists and test pilots in pursuit of a genuinely important human endeavor.
The Right Stuff is a favorite film of mine, and I think growing up in Florda near
Cape Canaveral might have had something to do with my deep and abiding
love of all things related to our early steps into outer space. It remains the best
expression of who we can be when we set our minds to something, and if you
ask me why I remain faithful that we’re going to be alright, it’s because of that
era. It’s because of what we did to land on the moon. And when I think of all
of that, the Fantastic Four and their appeal is tied up in that. There’s an
optimism to them that I find beautiful. Peyton Reed spoke about those same
things when he talked about the characters and the potential for what kind of
stories he could tell. When he eventually fell out at Fox, I wasn’t shocked. I’ve
always felt like that studio had some very weird resistance to the characters,
and the way they’ve fumbled each of the attempts they’ve made at things say a
lot about their own attitudes. Reed may not have not the most obvious choice
for Marvel to make when replacing Edgar Wright on Ant-Man, but for those of
us who knew him, his deep and passionate love for Marvel comics and their
history made it an exciting punchline to what felt like an interrupted earlier
story.

I’ve heard some people say it would be redundant to make a Fantastic

Four movie again now since we’ve got The Incredibles, but I think it’s only a
surface comparison where that makes any sense. Yes… both properties are
about super-powered families. Beyond that, though, they’ve got very little in
common. The Incredibles uses family as the primary driving metaphor, and all
four of the main characters are defined by the role they play in that family.
Mothers are often pulled in fifty different directions, stretched thin, asked to
be resilient in order to hold families together. Fathers are traditionally asked to
be strong and powerful and able to carry any weight. A teenage girl who feels
invisible, a little boy so full of energy he’s a blur, and a baby who is a great
unknown? These are primal, basic roles that make sense to anyone who’s ever
played any one of those roles, much less more than one.

One of the greatest moments of clarity in my life came when I began to

see things from the dual perspective of the son I was (and still am) and the
father I became. As I raise my kids, I struggle to remember how it felt to be
their age, how it felt to go through the things they’re going through, and I try
to make that part of my parenting. One of the reasons I fell in love with the
first Incredibles was because I was starting to consider actually having a family.
My wife and I were building a life together. I was in a place professionally
where it made sense. The future was bright and beautiful, and we decided to
start trying to make it happen. Bird’s film came as Hollywood was starting to
lose their minds about superheroes. They were fairly sure there was gold in
them thar hills, but they just weren’t sure how to start cashing it in. As a
longtime advocate for superhero cinema, I felt like Bird’s film landed at the
exact moment it both validated what I’d been saying about movies and what I
was hoping about family, and it thrilled me deeply.

When The Incredibles was released in 2003, it was my favorite film that
year. Looking back at it now, it remains an impeccably written and directed
film that is straining against the absolute bleeding edge of what was possible
when it was made. It pushed computer animation forward in terms of human
characters, and it brought all of the wisdom accumulated by Bird in his years as
a conventional animator to bear on how to make computers feel more like
human tools and less like limitations. It felt like the fulfillment of the promise
of The Iron Giant, and a huge announcement regarding Bird as a filmmaker.
More than that, though, it laid the groundwork for how Hollywood should
approach the set pieces they were building for the live-action superhero movies
they were just starting to make. Set free by animation, Bird designed truly
dizzying displays of superhero prowess. There are several amazing action
sequences, and it’s not the freedom of the camera that gives them their
propulsive energy; it’s the freedom from physics. There are things he did in
that film that any filmmaker would do well to study.

Bird learned all the right lessons from Raiders of the Lost Ark, which
remains the gold standard of wind-up toy blockbuster whiz-bang filmmaking.
Each of the set pieces in that film works as a combination of character and
structure. There are set-ups and pay-offs within each sequence that make them
feel like self-contained movies, like full meals. They are satisfying, in and of
themselves, but they also serve the larger film in very specific ways. There are
plenty of filmmakers who can get all the balls in the air and juggle the elements
required to pull together a large-scale set piece in a blockbuster.

How many of them can make it feel like they’re tap dancing as they do
it?

Bird is a nimble filmmaker, and he proved it again in Ratatoui"e. When

he made the jump to live-action for Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, he did it
using everything he’d learned on those films, and the set pieces in that film are
impeccably staged. More than that, though, they are put together in a way that
feels like Bird has total control, and Tom Cruise is just one tiny element in this
storm that Bird is whipping together. That’s the skill set that you really can’t
undersell when you’re talking about him. If there’s anything that makes
Tomorrowland feel like a misfire, it’s the way the film’s opening fifteen minutes
work so well to sell us a film that we never really see again for the rest of the
running time. I would have loved a movie full of jet pack chases and robots and
future cities, instead of a world about why that world doesn’t work. He never
found the right way into that film, and so none of the set pieces that are there
manage to pull us in or invest us further in the characters or make us feel like
there are any stakes at all. It’s almost a refutation of all the things that Bird’s
always done so well in his other films. It made me wonder if animation is
simply better suited to telling stories the way he wants to tell them. He
certainly wouldn’t be any less of a world-class filmmaker if that were the case.
And now that we’ve got The Incredibles 2, after all these years, I think I finally
have the answer to the questions his work has raised in the past.

I think superheroes work better when they’re animated. Full-stop.

Most modern live-action films that are largely effects driven are no
different than Mary Poppins or Bedknobs and Broomsticks in their essential design.
That sounds blasphemous, but Walt Disney was one of the first filmmakers to
realize that there’s only so much squash-and-stretch you can do to the human
body. Sure, you can put Dick Van Dyke in a scene with a bunch of cartoon
penguins, but no matter how much of a giant elastic goony bird Van Dyke is
(and god bless him, he is), the penguins are always going to be more limber,
more perfect, more malleable. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? is ground zero for
many of the tools and techniques that we see almost every blockbuster director
utilize today, and none more-so than the way they turned Bob Hoskins into a
live-action cartoon, as freed from the restraints of physics as any of his
animated co-stars. Hoskins basically nailed down all the tools that actors need
now to play their high-tech games of let’s pretend in which sets and co-stars
and entire worlds are created in post-production.

Both Ant-Man and The Wasp and The Incredibles 2 play with the potentials
of super-powers, and it is to Reed’s credit that he manages to make it all feel
almost as nimble as what Pixar is able to pull off. Both films seem to take
delight in pushing the boundaries of what we’ve seen superheroes do on film.
There’s a great moment in Ant-Man and The Wasp where Scott compares
exploits with the former Goliath played by Laurence Fishburne that taps into
the joy that comes from being given these powers, and there are plenty of small
giddy details in Incredibles 2 that do the same. Reed’s film seems scrappier, more
fiercely oddball, and Bird’s film feels a little more by-the-numbers than I
expected, and maybe that’s the biggest surprise of all. I didn’t expect much
from Reed’s film, and he overdelivered, while Bird’s own previous success has
set a high bar he seems to be having trouble clearing. While I think animation
may be the best medium to depict superheroic behavior, it’s clear that in the
right hands, live-action films still retain the ability to shock and surprise in
ways that the perfection of animation might never match.

Captain Marvel
dir. Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck
published
Pulp & Popcorn

By now, the Marvel machine is a well-oiled one, and not much is going to
get in its way. One of the biggest benefits to building a genuine shared universe
that is positively teeming with characters and stories and that is adapted from
another version of that shared universe is that you’ve already workshopped so
many things that the film division gets to cherry-pick, and they’re in no danger
of running out of genuinely worthwhile source material any time soon.

There is absolutely a house style at Marvel. You can look at any of their
films and you know you’re in the Marvel universe. Within that house style, I
think individual directors have managed to find ways to assert their own
voices, and there are marked differences between what happens when you give
Thor to Kenneth Branagh, Alan Taylor, or Taika Waititi. I look at the way
Peyton Reed has carved out his corner of things with Ant-Man or what James
Gunn did with the Guardians films and it’s clear there is room to be yourself
even while you add your puzzle piece to the larger picture. The same is true of
the various writers who have helped shape the movies, including Zak Penn,
Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely, Joss Whedon, James Gunn, Nicole
Perlman, Adam McKay, Edgar Wright and Joe Cornish, Ash Miller & Zack
Stentz, Shane Black, C. Robert Cargill and Scott Derrickson, Jon Spaihts, Paul
Rudd… and that’s just up to the end of Phase Two. Each of these writers or
teams came to the table with a strong perspective on the source material and
how to handle this custodial role of these already-beloved characters, and when
you consider that each of these writers is building their work onto the bones
laid down by all the other writers who have already handled the character on
the page, you’re talking about something that’s been ushered into this world by
quite a few parents. And yet… you don’t end up with homogenized nonsense.
Individual voices manage to define these characters at certain key moments,
and those moments can end up defining that character forever. Each of those
writers I listed can honestly say that they have made their mark on the
characters they were trusted to write, and if there is any signature to Marvel, it
is the way they work so hard behind the scenes to try to match the right
creators to the right project. They know that when they find something as
perfect as Gunn and the Guardians or Taika and Thor, the sky’s the limit in
terms of what the end result can be.

I like the work of Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, by and large. I think Half
Nelson is terrific, and Sugar is a very strong and personal movie. For fans of
Robert Altman’s California Split (which should be everyone, but which I
understand is limited by how many people have actually seen California Split),
the duo’s Mississippi Grind is a sly and satisfying homage. They do have one film
I actively dislike, though, called It’s Kind Of A Funny Story, and trust me, it is
not. Not at all. And, yes, I understand the ironic intent of the title, but it is a
film that absolutely aims at pulling off a wry, sophisticated dark comedy tone.
It does not. Not at all. I thought it was a miscalculation from start to finish,
but most significant among its problems was an inability to land any of the
dark comic punches it throws. If I have any major criticism of them, I’d say
they have not established a particularly strong sense of voice from film to film.
There’s very little that I would say unites any of those films, and right now, it
feels like Marvel should be pushing to find people who can bring those strong
points of view. Boden and Fleck made a solid film, but the things they’re not
especially good at seem magnified here, since those are (in some cases) the
exact things that the film needs to be good at in order to work.

My biggest problem? I don’t think they’re funny. At all. Not even a little
bit. I think that there are plenty of funny ideas and lines and images in Captain
Marvel, and I think in pretty much every case, they fail to execute the joke
well. It leads to the film feeling muted in places. However, there’s a lot about
the film to like, and part of what makes it such a welcome addition to the
Marvel Cinematic Universe overall is the surprising thematic weight it brings
to what could easily have just been another origin story, a place holder between
the two halves of this big Avengers event. Much like last year’s Black Panther,
this film is more than just “now there’s a lady superhero.” It dares to really
explore the nature of what distinguishes Carol and why these events that shape
her matter in the bigger picture, and it’s interesting, because in doing so, the
film has to eschew certain conventions of the action genre. It’s a very good
reminder that the more you lean into what your film is, the stronger it’s going
to be in the end. In this case, the basic idea is this: Carol Danvers is
enormously powerful, so powerful that the men in charge of her have to find a
way to control and contain her, and she only truly becomes Captain Marvel
when she realizes that she doesn’t need their permission to become the most
fully realized version of herself.

So, yeah. That’s a hell of a thing.

That’s only part of it, of course. Because it’s a Marvel movie, it plays its
part in the bigger picture, and in this case, the film gets to introduce the
Skrulls to the universe, which is something they’ve been struggling to make
happen for a while. The rights to the Skrulls were partially tied up in the
Fantastic Four’s rights package, and it meant they couldn’t use them separately.
Damn shame, because they’ve always been terrific villains for Marvel in the
comics. In fact, that long villainous history pays off here for longtime comic
readers in a very unexpected way, and that’s a really big choice by the movie
division. Instead of playing them as villains here, they are introduced in the
middle of conflict, and the audience gets to slowly figure out their own feelings
about the Skrulls and the Kree. When we meet her, she’s only known as Vers,
and Brie Larson gets to play several versions of her over the course of the film
as her memories start to reassert themselves. She’s a member of Starforce,
working under Yon-Rogg (Jude Law), who pushes her hard to master the
powers that he tells her were given to her by the Kree. She has no real memory
of who she is before Yon-Rogg found her broken, burned body and brought her
back to Hala, the capital of the Kree Empire. She was repaired and turned into
a weapon, and now it’s his job to shape her, to teach her how to use that power.
There’s a Supreme Intelligence, a sort of all-knowing AI that each member of
the Kree has a personal relationship with, and each person sees someone
different when they interact with it. That would be great if Vers had any idea
who she was. It’s a familiar story shape, with The Bourne Identity being the
James Bond version compared to this, the superhero version, and the reason
it’s so effective as the shape of an origin story is because the character is
learning who they are as the audience does. We just saw them use the same
basic story shape for Alita: Battle Angel as well, and for the same reasons.

Very quickly, it becomes apparent that Vers had some sort of life on
Earth, and the film takes longer putting those pieces together than we do as
viewers. Emotionally, though, Brie Larson does a terrific job of charting the
way each step back towards her true self not only makes her stronger, but also
makes her more fully alive. For Vers, that moment where she truly wakes up
begins when she comes face-to-face with Maria Rambeau, played by Lashana
Lynch, and I thought one of the most striking things about the film is how
clearly it’s structured like a love story, but without ever quite saying it. It is
clear that Carol and Maria had a real life together, and that they love each
other deeply, and while Marvel’s certainly free to play the “they’re just friends
and actually Carol’s going to smooch Thor!” card later if they want to, it seems
so much more significant to just show this strong pair of women, bound by this
desire to break a glass ceiling and fly combat missions, and how important
their support of one another is. Lynch has some of the most human moments
in the movie as she talks about what it meant to lose Carol and who Carol was
to her. She also obviously played a strong role in the life of Monica, Maria’s
daughter, and Akira Akbar does a nice job of playing every little girl who’s
going to look up at the screen and see something in Carol that speaks to them
and inspires them. Whether you choose to read them as a couple or simply
close friends, the relationship between them grounds the more fantastic
elements of the film in a way that made it feel like the stakes actually mattered.
There was something here that Carol definitely would want to fight for, and it
feels real.

I like that they used Nick Fury and Phil Coulson as the main faces of
Earth in the film. For one thing, seeing how far they’ve pushed the LOLA VFX
process at this point was genuinely impressive. I spoke to a fairly savvy viewer
right after the press screening, and his reaction was quietly dumbfounded. He
just accepted it as real at a certain point. There was no question in his mind
that he was looking at footage of 1995-era Sam Jackson. It’s been good enough
for short sequences, but Jackson spends most of the movie onscreen and in
direct daylight, and it’s pretty close to seamless at this point. What’s
interesting is that you can see it more in the way he moves than in his face now.
He’s still giving the physical performance, and so there’s some natural slowing
down that comes from being 20 years older than he’s playing. Still, Jackson and
Larson have strong chemistry, and Jackson is particularly funny with the film’s
biggest scene-stealer, the cat named Goose. Well, the flerkin named Goose, I
should say. While I feel like some of Goose’s biggest beats in the film are pretty
much lifted from Groot’s biggest beats in the first Guardians, it’s still fun to see
him unleashed.

Ben Mendelsohn is having a moment as Hollywood’s favorite sort-of-bad

guy, and for good reason. He’s very good at giving even the most unrepentant
dirtbag some sort of recognizable humanity, and he’s got a knack for the
surprising detail to help flesh out characters. He plays Talos, the leader of this
particular Skrull cell, and when the film finally flips its card to reveal that these
Skrulls are simply sympathetic survivors, trying to outrun what can only be
described as genocide on the part of the Kree, he does a good job of making it
feel like a reveal, not a twist. He never plays it as evil. He also seems to delight
in the make-up when he gets to wear it, and the film does a nice job of not
overplaying the shape-shifter card. It would be very easy for the entire film to
become “who is wearing whose face?”, but they’re more interested in who the
Skrulls are than who they’re pretending to be. He takes great delight in getting
to talk about his own face when he’s in Skrull form, complimenting his own
baby blues, and why not? So much of what is fun about the Marvel movies
comes from the tweaking of ego and expectation.

For as much as people love to talk about Marvel as the 800-pound gorilla
in Hollywood right now, Iron Man was anything but a sure bet, and they don’t
make these films like they are assured of their success every single time. I feel
the same scrappy hunger from Captain Marvel that I did from Iron Man, that
same urgent quality that comes from hoping you get it right and fearing at the
same time that people might not get it. They keep reaching new milestones
and trying new things and they keep risking failure in the process. Anyone who
watched the release of the film and the conversation around it knows that
there was a very focused, angry attempt to damage its release, orchestrated by
the same focused, angry manbabies who seem to be deeply upset at the idea
that they are no longer the sole owners of pop culture. Captain Marvel actually
bakes some of that directly into the text, so by the time Jude Law is revealed in
his final form as Debate Me Man, it is deeply satisfying to see Carol refuse
because she knows full well that she has nothing to prove to him. During those
final fights, there is a joy that comes from Carol because she’s starting to feel
the full breadth of her own powers, and that same joy is evident in the choices
being made by Marvel these days. Introducing Black Panther or Captain Marvel
or our first truly teenaged Spider-Man may all be savvy commercial moves, yes,
especially as the conversations about inclusivity become louder, but they are
also joyful, almost giddy choices in which Marvel gets to more fully embrace
the full universe they’ve created, and not just one small white dude part of it.
Each time Marvel tries something that they believe works and the audience
shows up and they tell them, “Yes, I felt seen and I love this character and I am
happy to have them join the world,” it makes them stronger, more confident in
their own strength. Studios that try to imitate Marvel so they can cash in on a
shared universe miss the point. Marvel has created a world in which they can
now tell any type of story about any type of character in any genre, and the
more faces they add, the more voices they encourage, and the more hues of
humanity they empower, the richer the playground for every other storyteller
who comes after.

There are some issues with Captain Marvel. I think it’s awkwardly
structured, even if I understand why it’s awkwardly structured. The central
mystery is not mysterious enough to really sustain all the juggling it takes
before they reveal who Carol Danvers is and how she came to be. Many of the
jokes only half-work because it feels like they’re not staged or timed properly.
Annette Bening, who I think is amazing and wonderful and often great in
films, doesn’t really have much to do here besides smile beatifically. She
certainly can do that, but her character is told to us more than shown to us,
and that’s a shame. She’s set up as the perfect mentor for Carol, someone who
makes a decision to do what’s right no matter what, but we don’t really get to
see any of their relationship play out, which makes it hard to land the
emotional punches that are so clearly meant to be part of that storyline. The
soundtrack is packed with ‘90s tunes, but they’re not deployed with any of the
same nimble wit that made the jukebox approach to both Guardians films such
a pleasure. The only one that really works is “Just A Girl,” and if that had been
the one big needle-drop, it would be been way more memorable. And while I
think the film builds as it goes, with a last act that is exponentially better than
the opening act, I’m not sure I’d hold that against it. I’d rather see a film that’s
built like this, getting better as it goes, than one where the best scenes are in
the middle and the ending is a mess. In a lot of ways, it feels like they took the
attitude and the fun little details of the Captain Marvel run by Kelly Sue
DeConnick and then reverse-engineered the movie to simply make sure they
had a way to include that stuff, and that may not feel terribly coherent, but it
sure does help make it all feel enjoyable.

Carol will make a terrific addition to the roster for Avengers: Endgame,
and beyond that, I’m fascinated to see the way Marvel’s setting up movies a
decade down the road by introducing young Monica. Here’s hoping we also get
Kamala Khan onscreen sometime. This probably falls somewhere in the
middle of the pack of Marvel films overall for me, but that’s fine. At this point,
when you’ve got 21 films that are all solid and enjoyable to various degrees, the
middle of the pack isn’t a bad place to be. Origin films are rarely the best
stories you can tell about a character, but in this case, it launches Carol
Danvers into a very large world with a good deal of power, and I’m confident
that she will land those very big punches she throws with devastating impact.

***
Thank you for sharing this journey with me over the last decade. Wherever we
go from here, I am glad to have been here for this part of it, and I am doubly
glad you were part of that experience with me.