Film Review: Jeff Wadlow's Kick-Ass 2

I have to admit that I did not like this film all that much.  It was okay, one could even say it was meh, if one wished to use a more hipstery type of language, but nothing to write home about, as they say.  I also must admit that I was not all that big of a fan of the first Kick-Ass film either.  A bit less meh than the follow-up, but still quite lackluster.  Now the comics, I like.  The comics by Mark Millar are lots of fun, but the film adaptations leave much to be desired.  The hard hitting sardonic, and yes, quite dark and disturbing, humour of Millar's comics are lost in the more, for lack of a more apt term, family friendly  filmic translations.  Yeah yeah, I know, this R-rated film is far from family friendly, but really, it could have gone a lot farther than it did in trying to recreating Mark Millar's scripted comics.  Then again, people like the film's co-star, Jim Carrey, think the film went too far, but more on that in a bit.

As a bit of a background check here, Kick-Ass is a comic book series written by Mark Millar, with artwork by the great John Romita, Jr., and was published from 2008 to 2010 by Marvel Comics' more mature imprint, Icon.  A film adaptation was released in 2010.  The film was directed by Matthew Vaughn, and was a bit controversial for its depiction of violence, especially as it had teenagers, including the then 13 year old Chloe Moretz, in its cast.  As I said, I thought the film just average, and the violence should have been kicked up a notch or three.  Damn the controversy!  With the second series, published in 2011 and 2012, and again published by Marvel's Icon imprint, and written and drawn by Millar and Romita, Jr., respectively, a sequel has been released to the movie going public, and again, the cries of too much violence has erupted, and again, when compared to the comics (which incidentally portrays toddlers being gunned down and teenage girls being gang-raped), said violence is not really all that.  But maybe that's just me.

As I alluded to earlier, after the tragedy of Sandy Hook happened, and those kids were killed (a few months before the film's release), Jim Carrey, who portrays mob enforcer-turned-superhero Captain Stars & Stripes, came out and apologized for making such a violent movie.  Really, Jim?  You act as if Sandy Hook was the first school shooting of its kind.  Like there were no other tragedies, many of them with larger body counts, that happened before you signed up and made such a "violent" movie.  What a hypocritical bastard!  But I digress.  I am not here to talk of some self-absorbed actor spouting off idiotic statements to the press.  Although I will quote co-star Chloe Moretz, now sixteen and playing the murderous vigilante Hit-Girl in the film.  She said of the violence controversy, "It's a movie. If you are going to believe and be affected by an action film, you shouldn't go to see Pocahontas because you are going to think you are a Disney princess. If you are that easily swayed, you might see The Silence of the Lambs and think you are a serial killer. It's a movie and it's fake, and I've known that since I was a kid... I don't want to run around trying to kill people and cuss. If anything, these movies teach you what not to do."  Anyway, I digress once more.

I've spoken so much about the violence and ensuing controversy of the film, but not much on the film itself.  This is probably because I really have nothing to say about the film.  It is a lackluster adaptation of a far superior comicbook series.  Sure, there are some fun moments throughout (Christopher Mintz-Plassse is especially fun as the supervillain known as The Mother Fucker), but overall the film just sort of lays there in a state of self-confusion.  Some say it is too violent, others, like me, say it is not violent enough when compared to the comics themselves, or to other auteuristic action films by the like of Scorsese or Tarantino or Park Chan-wook.  I am not advocating violence, but when it is needed to tell a story, and it is here. The whole fucking point of the story is to show the differences between what is a good guy and what is a bad guy, and how that lined is constantly and rightfully blurred all to hell, and one needs violence to show that.  But then, maybe that is just me.

Film Review: James Mangold's The Wolverine

Loosely, and I mean very loosely, based on the 1982 Marvel Comics limited series by Chris Claremont, the man responsible for everything good about the X-Men, and Frank Miller, the man who a few years later would give Batman back his balls in The Dark Knight Returns, one of the finest works in comicdom history, this new revamping of sorts (who wouldn't want something revamped after Origins!?) has a powerful potential, but is never able to cash in on any of that potential.  Taking the most basic structure of the aforementioned 1982 limited series, and inserting most of the correct characters into place, director James Mangold, and his screenwriters Scott Frank and Mark Bomback, pretty much rip to shreds the very comic they claim the film is based upon.  But that ain't even the half of it.

Granted, one expects a bit of retconning when comics go to the big screen (enjoyable films such as X-Men: First Class and last year's The Avengers did more than their share of fucking with continuity) and one must give a bit of leeway when considering such adaptations (think of them as an alternate universe scenario, if you must), but when such adaptations not only rip asunder everything we comicbook fans know and love about these characters, but also turn their films into anything ranging from bad to boring, one must put one's foot down.  Now the character of Wolverine is one of the most archetypal and fascinating ones the superhero world has ever known, and therefore should, in theory make for an interesting read and/or watch.  In 1982, Claremont and Miller's series was groundbreaking.  It was Wolverine's first foray into solo adventuring - long before Marvel decided the character needed to be on every superhero team in existence, and in at least 75% of all Marvel titles (only a slight exaggeration btw) - but what is done to this classic tale of love and honour, revenge and loyalty, is just disheartening to the nth degree.

Yes, Hugh Jackman, reprising the role of Logan, aka the Wolverine, for the fourth time (fifth if one were to count his cameo on First Class) does a bang-up job with what he's got to work with, and yes, model-turned-actress Tao Okamoto, though not the most stellar of thespians, looks appropriately drop-dead breathtaking as Mariko (upon her first appearance in the film, an audible 'wow' came from an audience member somewhere behind me), the love of Logan's life (well, unless you count Jean Grey, but any faithful Marvel acolyte knows that Miss Grey, who appears here in dream form, portrayed by Famke Janssen, goes beyond mere love of anyone's life), and the other model-turned-actress in the film, Rila Fukushima as Yukio, though playing a character whose entire demeanor is turned upside-down here (she's supposed to be a bloodthirsty assassin dammit!), is cute in that sassy, kick-ass fox-you-wish-was-next-door kinda way, but the film is just not able to hold up under its own insipid weight.  And just when one gets to the point where they think that this pointless film cannot possibly get any worse, the third and final act shows up to prove everyone oh so wrong.  Just like they did to the Mandarin in Iron Man 3 earlier this year, the long-running image of the villain, the Silver Samurai, is turned into a joke here, and it just adds to the complete collapse of the an already pretty stupid film come that final act.  Sad really.  

But, all things are not bad, for if you wait for a few more minutes after the end credits begin to roll, you will be rewarded with a damn fun teaser for next year's X-Men: Days of Future Past epic mutant event, featuring a pair of everyone's favourite mutants.  The fact that this ninety second clip is, by far, the best thing about this movie, is a bit sad if you let yourself think about it.  Another thing that we should probably not allow outrselves to think about (but, hey, I'm bringing it up anyway) is the sad fact of what this film shoulda, coulda, and woulda been if Darren Aronofsky hadn't bowed out before filming began.  Just imagine what such an inventive auteur would have brought to the table.  Actually, let's not think about that, it is only going to piss us off that it never happened.  Let's just look forward to Days of Future Past, and a hope that the X-films will get back on track.  And hey, where the hell is our Gambit movie anyway!?

Film Review: Zack Snyder's Man of Steel

As far as my history with Superman movies go, once one gets past the 1950's TV show and accompanying big screen serials, which incidentally are great fun, the first two Christopher Reeve ones from 1978 and 1981 are good, solid superhero movies.  1983's third installment was just awful, and it's followup in 1987, The Quest For Peace as it was sub-titled, is just cataclysmically bad.  Then, after a couple of decades relegated to the small screen via Dean Cain and Tom Welling, the 2006 reboot, Superman Returns came around, and was not so much a bad movie, as just utterly forgettable.  Seriously, did that film really happen?  I am willing to bet the creators of this latest version, The Man of Steel, have cleaved it from their memories, and we probably should as well.

Now my personal history with the films of Zack Snyder are a bit more up and down, but consistently so.  I loved his first film, 2004's Dawn of the Dead remake (the best damn remake, retooling, whatever, we have seen in a long long time), then hated his second, the atrociously ridiculous 300 (though some of the director's eye-porn visuals were fun at times), but turned around and loved his third film, 2009's oft-maligned Watchmen (my favourite comicbook adaptation, and a member of my top ten for the year), and again hated his fourth film, Sucker Punch (now I would never knock a bunch of plaid skirted naughty schoolgirls kicking ass, but wow is this film bad).  Pretending that The Owls of Gagoobaly-Gook (or whatever that thing was called), was never even in Snyder's mish-mashed oeuvre (even more forgettable than Superman Returns), the critical algorithms of the director's life work is a clean yes no yes no.  In theory, this should mean I loved Man of Steel, right? Yeah, well, not so much.

Do not get me wrong, Zack Snyder's Man of Steel is a more-than-capable superhero film (produced by Christopher Nolan, giving credit where credit is due), with all the requisite creation story, moral angst, and heroic action sequences and balls-out fight scenes, not to mention one of the most iconic of superhero outfits, and even though it plays at being both something serious and something quaint, it just never reaches the level of darkness of the Wagnerian Dark Knight Trilogy, nor does it manage the old school whimsey of such Marvel movies as Iron Man or The Avengers.  What it does do though, is gives us two hours and twenty-some minutes of solid superheroic fun.  Granted, I have never been the biggest of Superman fans, tending, comicly-speaking, to lean more toward the Mighty Marvel side of things, growing up on a steady diet of Avengers, X-Men, Daredevil, The Defenders, and The Fantastic Four, but there is no denying the inherent heroism in the classic character, and it is this same heroism that Henry Cavill channels in his role as Kal-El/Clark Kent.  Having been born in the Channel Islands, there is probably some joke about the actor channeling the superhero, but we should probably just leave that in the aether where it belongs.

Actually, the British actor, complete with chiseled jaw and abs of (literal?) steel, is perfectly suited for the part, but considering that Supes, originally conceived by teenagers Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster in 1933, and making his debut in DC Comics in 1938, helping to usher in the world of superheroes, has never been the most convoluted of characters - you will never see the depth that ones sees in a Batman or a Spider-Man - his acting prowess is never really brought into question.   Others in the cast, such as Kevin Costner as Kal-El's adoptive Kansan father, Jonathan Kent, Russell Crowe as his Kryptonian dad, Jor-El, and Amy Adams as everyone's favourite investigative reporter, Lois Lane (more modernized than Margot Kidder's version, but still getting in just as much peril), do an equally capable job, but it is really Michael Shannon as General Zod (of course) who steals whatever show there happens to be to steal.  In the end, after Superman does what no other Superman has done before, we are left with a good, if not great, action movie, and a movie that, despite its flaws, will still make you believe a man can really fly.

Film Review: Shane Black's Iron Man 3

As a comicbook lover from way back, and an Iron Man fan from equally way back - before the Armor Wars, before Demon in a Bottle (and if you do not get those references, you probably shouldn't be reading this) - I really wanted to like this movie.  I really really wanted to like it.  With all my nerdy heart, I wanted to like Iron Man 3.  The first Iron Man, back in 2008, I liked.  I liked a lot.  In fact, until The Avengers came out last year, it was the best damn Marvel Comics adaptation out there.  Then came 2010 and Iron Man 2.  That film was a definite let down.  Granted, it had a lot to live up to, but still, a let down.  So, with the third and final (?) installment in the Iron Man franchise, I was psyched.  I was hyped.  It couldn't be as bad as the second one, right?  It had to be better.  Maybe not Iron Man 1 good, but still, quite good, right?  Right?  So yeah, I really really really wanted to like Iron Man 3.  But alas poor Tony Stark, we knew ye well.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not saying Iron Man 3 is Spider-Man 3 bad, or, god forbid, Fantastic Four (any movie version really) bad, but once again, it is a definite let down.  Sure, the film can be looked at as a technical marvel, and there are several quite stunning set pieces in here, most notably the attack on Stark's home and what is known in the credits as the barrel of monkeys skydiving sequence (done not with CGI, but with a real live skydiving team), but once one gets past the effects and tricks, one is left with a rather boring storyline.  Yes, Robert Downey, Jr., and his inherent snarky charm, manages to save the film from being Spider-Man 3 bad, but even with him, Shane Black's film lacks in the great writing that we saw with the first Iron Man, written by Oscar nominees Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby, and Joss Whedon's work on The Avengers.  Even Downey, who is great fun even when he is phoning it in, which he may very well be doing here, can only raise the quality of the film so much.  Sure, it looks spectacular at times, but the real emotion that we saw in the first two films, save for the scenes between Stark and a boy who is helping him, is just not there.

Then, if things weren't already bad enough, we have The Mandarin, or more aptly, some twisted cheap knock-off version of The Mandarin.  For those of you not in the know (the ones who didn't get my Armor Wars and Demon in a Bottle references, but who are still reading along), The Mandarin is Ole Shellhead's arch-enemy from way back in the day.  Making his debut in 1964, in Tales of Suspense #50, just eleven issues after Iron Man made his own debut in said comic, The Mandarin has always been a rather silly villain, as well as kind of a racist stereotype in the day.  Granted, Iron Man has never had the best rogue's gallery to do battle with.  He doesn't have a Dr. Doom or a Magneto, a Green Goblin or a Kingpin.  Iron Man has never had a Loki or a Red Skull to call his arch-nemesis.  The best he got was The Mandarin, though one could make a case for Fin Fang Foom, but maybe that's just me.  Now The Mandarin has been updated in recent years in the comicbook world, and I expected him to get a makeover for the brave new world of superhero movies, I just wasn't prepared for what was done to the guy in Iron Man 3.  

I do not want to give anything away here, but let's just say what was done to The Mandarin is the equivalent of a cop-out.  It is cheap and cheapens the character.  But this is merely me getting all hot and bothered over creative choices I do not agree with (do not get me started on what they did to a lot of The X-Men in their first movie trilogy), the film has more worries than just a nerd getting his panties all in a twist.  Since he has no real rogue's gallery to speak of, the one thing I have always liked about Iron Man is the development of the character.  Seemingly shallow on the outside (the outer shell, you might say), Tony Stark is one of the most complex characters in the Marvel Universe.  This is shown in the comics, especially back in the David Michelinie/Bob Layton run in the late 1970's and early 1980's, and it was shown in the first two entries of this franchise, as well as in Whedon's The Avengers, but we do not get that here - at least not in any substantial amount.  Again, the film is a technical marvel and Downey holds up his end of the bargain, and I am sure to the uninitiated, the film is a fun action-packed crowd-pleaser, but for me, it is merely another mediocre third installment (think X-Men: The Last Stand, The Dark Knight Rises and the aforementioned Spider-Man 3) in a franchise that started out with great fervor.  And I really really did want to like this one.  I really did.

Film Review: The Dark Knight Rises

Let's get this out of the way right up front.  The Dark Knight Rises, Christopher Nolan's third and final installment of his Dark Knight Trilogy, is a mostly enjoyable film, but even though it is a better film than the cumbersome Batman Begins, the first installment (origin stories are always so difficult)  it never reaches the heights that 2008's The Dark Knight reached - in veritable spades.  Yes, there are some pretty spectacular set pieces here, and the action, though often a bit too similar to its predecessor, rarely fails to titillate, and the acting (Joseph Gordon-Levitt especially shines) is what one would call top-notch for such an endeavor, but still the film falls short of what this critic has called the greatest comic book movie ever made, the aforementioned The Dark Knight.  But even with this being the (probably inevitable) case, there are enough so-called shining moments in this final chapter, enough to overpower the lackluster and rather repetitive side of the film, to make for, if not a great film, at least an enjoyable last hurrah for our intrepid caped crusader.

The storyline, noticeably inspired by Frank Miller's seminal 1986 limited series, "The Dark Knight Returns" (the comic that gave Batman his balls back), picks up eight years after the events of The Dark Knight.  Batman has not been seen since that fateful night where, in order to put an end to organized crime in Gotham City, he took the blame for the crimes of district attorney-turned-super villain Harvey "Two-Face" Dent.  Bruce Wayne, now limping around as a Howard Hughes-esque recluse, and acting the wounded puppy, pining over his dead love, is forced out of retirement by the appearance of a new deadly force in Gotham, a mystery man named Bane.  Wayne/Batman, played here once again by Oscar winner Christian Bale, his voice as raspy as a scary old blues singer, must face his own inner demons before taking on Bane to save Gotham from certain destruction.  But enough of the storytelling.  We do not want to get too far into any spoiler-like territory.  Suffice it to say, we also get Catwoman, played admirably by Anne Hathaway (but hey, she is no Michelle Pfieffer or Julie Newmar even), Commissioner Gordon, played with the usual aplomb of Gary Oldman, butler extraordinaire Alfred Pennyworth, played with the cockeyed verve of Michael Caine, and an array of generic bad guys and underused good guys (give Marion Cotillard and Morgan Freeman more to do dammit!).

But the question still remains, though none of the critic-bashing fanboys out there would say so, of why this film is not as good as it shoulda woulda coulda been.  Where The Dark Knight (not to keep, and possibly unfairly so, comparing the two films) rose above the genre and into realms of noir and revisionist western, playing out as if the cinematic love child of Sam Fuller and Sam Peckinpah, and therefore creating a space outside the realms of most super hero movies, comparable to the best in classic cinema, this new film only plays at the basest of entertainments.  Sure, with its sometimes awe-inspiring special effects and archetypal characterizations, it does this rather well, but don't we deserve more than just that.  Granted, it would be hard to top the last film.  With Heath Ledger as The Joker, who many claim to be the best damn super villain in comic book history (in my opinion he comes second to Magneto, but that is another argument for another day), and who according to the director is not mentioned here out of respect for the late actor, it would seem nearly impossible to recreate such villainous chemistry a second time - and with Bane, Nolan does not manage to do such a thing.  Sure, Tom Hardy, masked for nearly his entire performance, and speaking through a voice modulator to the effect of Sean Connery doing his best Darth Vader, does a more than admirable job with the character, but let's face facts - Bane is no Joker, and Hardy is no Ledger.  But then, this is not the only reason this film stumbles way more often than it should.

Perhaps it is the dragging that accompanies the big chunk of the movie where Batman is, for all intents and purposes, out of the picture.  Perhaps it is Nolan's over-reliance on action above story.  The two sides of this spectrum seamlessly co-inhabited in The Dark Knight but they are separate yet unequal entities here.  Perhaps it is the achingly cliche'd scenes where Christian Bale's broken and battered Bruce Wayne must find his true soul, and therefore the strength to beat the seemingly unbeatable Bane (but this is not to claim Bane is ever truly beaten).  Perhaps it is Nolan's insistence on over-explaining every little detail of his film, a troublesome habit that wrecked the otherwise intriguing Inception.  Perhaps it is the combination of all these filmic attributes that make this film a lesser creature than this critic was hoping for.  But hey, for all these faults, the film isn't really all that bad.  Sure, it lacks in some important departments, and tends to feel unreasonably bloated in its middle parts, but there is still a lot of fun to be had.  Hardy, though not Ledger, has some pretty fun moments here, and the aforementioned Gordon-Levitt, as headstrong do-gooder rookie cop John Blake, is the veritable highlight of the film in many cases.  Not to mention Hathaway in Catwoman's patented form-fitting patent leather skins.  Though she is sadly not really given enough to do, especially considering what a classic and interesting character she happens to be playing.

Then again, perhaps this is just me poo-pooing it for not being another Dark Knight.  On its own it is no better or worse than most of the super hero movies out there these days.  Landing somewhere between The Avengers and The Amazing Spider-Man (to use two of the most recent entries in the genre), though with a much darker-honed epic feel to it, a thing the film does remarkably well, The Dark Knight Rises certainly has its moments.  One of these moments, and probably the best for all the comic book nerds (myself included) in the audience, is the final fifteen minutes or so, which efficiently wraps up the final segment of The Dark Knight story by tying up loose ends and giving a reasonable sense of closure to the whole shebang.  It is this finale, not to give any spoilers here, that will make any self-respecting fanboy figuratively (and perhaps literally as well) cream in his jeans.  Yeah, perhaps it is not the great and epic thing many of us were hoping for (though I am sure all those cream-jeaned fanboys out there would beg to differ), and maybe we should not have even been expecting such a thing, and yes, perhaps it has its upsetting flaws, but it is still a hell of a fun ride for it's nearly three hour run time - and what more can one ask for.

Film Review: The Amazing Spider-Man

I am sure many are questioning why even make a reboot of a franchise whose most recent edition only bowed out in theaters just five years ago.  In reality it is a convoluted combination of Marvel not wanting their characters to linger too long in cinematic purgatory and the studios wanting to start from a cheaper financial jumping off point.  I personally have a "what the hell" attitude and say bring it on people.  Let's see what ya got.  What they got is a redoing of Sam Raimi's own 2002 Spider-Man origin story, but with less emphasis on CGI effects and more on character development and the interpersonal stories that make the comics themselves so good.  What we get is a somewhat better retelling of Peter Parker's origin, made possible through novice director Marc Webb's awe-inspired, not necessarily awe-inspiring, direction and the natural seeming chemistry between Andrew Garfield's web-slinger and Emma Stone's girlfriend extraordinaire Gwen Stacy.

Of course there is always a problem when telling an origin story, and an even bigger one when re-telling one.  A lot of backstory, especially backstory that any regular reader of any of the kajillion Spider-Man titles that have come out of the Marvel bullpen already knows by heart, and even those non-comic readers who saw Raimi's original origin story know pretty darn well, can be...um, well it can be boring.  Raimi counteracted this problem by throwing everything he could find, up to and including the kitchen sink, right smack dab at it.  Webb on the other hand (and can I just make a quick aside by saying that the director now finds himself as the Webb of Spider-Man - all the true believer comic book heads in the room know of what I pun) counterpunches with a more intimate, more tender take on the whole thing.  Now don't get me wrong, there is plenty of action here, but this action is blended in rather seamlessly with the coming of age story that is the crux of not only this film, but of many of the first hundred or so issues of the Stan Lee/Steve Ditko comic from the 1960's.

Much of this coming of age storytelling is brought even further into focus by Andrew Garfield.  The US-born, UK raised actor who made an impression two years ago in The Social Network and Never Let Me Go, plays Parker/Spidey with a more humanistic spirit than Tobey Maguire did in the Raimi version (not that Maguire wasn't good in the role as well).  Garfield's lanky Ditko-esque appearance, charming boyish smile and nervous banter, as well as the aforementioned chemistry between he and the always bewitching Ms. Stone - their repeated meet-cute encounters never get tiresome - make for a very good story when the webs are not flying.  When those webs are flying though, we get a less hectic beast than what Raimi gave us (that was his thing though, and I mean no disrespect toward him) but never any less exciting.  Director Webb, whose only previous time spent behind the camera was 2009's charming, though sometimes a bit too charming indie hit (500) Days of Summer, makes his way through this film with a hit and miss trepidation that pays off more often than not, much in the same way our intrepid wouldbe spider-hero finds his way through the ups and downs of herodom.

With Rhys Ifans as Dr. Curt Conners, a one-armed not-so-mad scientist who eventually becomes a bit hot under the collar when he transforms himself into a The Lizard - always one of my favourite of the web-head's overpopulated and somewhat overstuffed rogue's gallery - and Denis Leary as Captain Stacy, Gwen's very overprotective father-cum-police chief, providing antagonistic fervor, and Sally Field and Martin Sheen shoring up the homefront as the eponymous Aunt May and Uncle Ben respectively, Garfield and his dishy smile that blends a cocksure attitude with a sheepish kind of grin, donned in an appropriately slightly misfitted costume, is helped along famously.  True, in the end, this reboot, brazenly (and comic lore appropriately) adjectivized as The Amazing, is an improvement on Raimi's version, but not any drastic kind of improvement, and anyway the original probably did not really warrant any need for improvement in the first place.  So does that mean this new version is superfluous?  Some might say yes.  Is it a fun movie?  I would say yes to that as well.  But then, even superfluous is fun sometimes.

Retro Review: X-Men: First Class (2011)

The following is part of a series where I bring back some of my "older" reviews (those written during my 2004-2011 tenure at the now mostly defunct The Cinematheque) and offer them up to a "newer" generation.  In honour of Marvel Comics marrying off one of their X-Men in the first ever superhero same-sex marriage (well, one of them is a superhero, the other his non-superpowered lover), I give you my review of last year's X-Men origin story.  Sure, Northstar, the aforementioned superhero groom-to-be, is not in the film, but it is as close as I could get.

*************

Sure, director Matthew Vaughn may play a bit fast and loose with the origins of everyone's favourite team of superhero mutants (as did Bryan Singer before him, and for that matter all the folks who have been tinkering with Marvel Comics lo these past few years) but continuity with the comics aside, this latest superhero reboot (or genesis project if you will) is, thanks to a nostalgic comic iconography and subtle (and not-so-subtle) winks and nods to those of us in the know (don't call me a fanboy!), quite fun indeed. All this and one of my favourite actors, the splendid chameleonic Michael Fassbender (that Inglourious Basterd who knew his Wiemar period cinema but not how to gesture the right number three) playing my all-time favourite comic character, that Master of Magnetism himself, Magneto (yeah, I'm one of those people). I suppose one could say that I have my cake and I can eat it too. 

Actually this is not so much a reboot (a popular way of going about blockbustery franchises these days) as it is a prequel, going back to 1962 and the Cuban Missile Crisis - here secretly concocted by Sebastian Shaw, head of the Hellfire Club (played by Kevin Bacon with an especially campy glee that perfectly suits the setting and makes us wish he had more to do in the film) and therefore we get to see several of the characters from the original trilogy as younger, very different characters. Perhaps this is just a way for the filmmakers to put their superheroines in skimpy, mini-skirts and gogo boots (not that I am complaining about that - though a little research would have told them the miniskirt would not make its debut for another three years) and therefore cash in on the nostalgia craze for this period that was started by AMC's Mad Men. But then again, this is where the story began (Stan Lee and Jack Kirby debuted their X-Men in September of 1963) so it too must be where an origin episode must begin. 

Here we get the steely determination of a young Erik Lehnsherr (the aforementioned Mr. Fassbender) making his way from the concentration camps of his youth (played by Bill Milner as a boy) to his anger-fueled revenge on those responsible for such atrocities (an early scene set in Argentina and done mostly in German reminds one of a certain scene in the belly of Inglourious Basterds) and finally to his inevitable turn toward the supposed dark side and evolution into the man known simply as Magneto. One of my reasons for finding this character (in comic and movie both) so fascinating is the inherent emotional turmoil brewing inside of him. He is neither a villain nor a hero, but at the same time he is both (in fact for a while in the comics he Magneto actually led the X-Men in Xavier's absence). Originally this film was meant to be one in a series of origin stories, following up X-Men Origins: Wolverine, that would tell the tale of Lehnsherr/Magneto just like the previous film had told of Logan's early life. It would eventually evolve into this tale, but still the torment of Magneto is at its core. 

Here we also get a young Charles Xavier (the always fun-to-watch James McAvoy) before he became the austere professorial type played by Patrick Stewart in the original trilogy. We find this pampered rich kid at Oxford in the beginning days of the "swingin' London" era, made out to be a rather snarky player (wooing coeds with his brainy charms) as well as quite vain and cocksure (inside joking about how much he likes his hair). This vanity (and the fact that he looks no different than regular humans and therefore, unlike those whose mutations have taken on more physical attributes, has no qualms about coming out as it were) is what drives a wedge between Charles and those close to him. Playing Martin Luther King to Magneto's Malcolm X, Xavier wishes to become unified with the non-mutant population and coexist peacefully while his angrier counterpart says "peace was never an option". Of course an argument can be made for either side and in truth it needs to be a combination of both viewpoints (not the stubbornness of both Lenhnsherr and Xavier for their causes) to make any sort of future work. This basic moral war is what is at the base of this story. 

McAvoy and Fassbender actually play perfectly off of each other (almost as if they really were the two sides of the same coin they are portrayed as in the film) and it is in this friendship and eventual betrayal that Vaughn's film finds its strength. The rest of the cast, though some are very good, never quite reach this level of compatibility that McAvoy and Fassbender seem to have. Playing the blueskinned shapeshifting Raven Darkholme, aka Mystique (previously portrayed by Rebecca Romijn), Jennifer Lawrence, Oscar nominated for Winter's Bone last year, never gets the chance to stretch too much (she has many poignant emotional dilemmas but still gets overshadowed in them by McAvoy and Fassbender). As for the others, January Jones (didn't somebody mention Mad Men earlier?), looks quite spectacular in the iconic outfit of the White Queen, Emma Frost; Rose Byrne as Moira MacTaggart (here, unlike in the comics, made to be a CIA agent) is also meant as mostly eye candy (baring almost all while sneaking into the Hellfire Club as a paid escort); and English actor Jason Flemying as the redskinned teleporting demon Azazel (and eventual father to stalwart X-Man Nightcrawler) is a hell of a lot of fun to watch go bamfing all about. But then again, it is less the portrayals than those being portrayed that throw this comic book nerd off his kilter. 

As a not-so-secret fanboy (didn't I tell you not to call me that!?) I must admit to a few quite nerdy disappointments in the film. First and foremost of course being that these are not the real first class at Xavier's Academy - the one's represented in that now quite expensive first issue of X-Men from September of 1963. Well okay, Hank McCoy (aka Beast) is here, but no Cyclops nor Iceman nor Angel nor even every young schoolboy's fantasy, Jean Grey. Yeah yeah, you don't have to tell me - the continuity (the integrity if you will) was already skewed from day one of the first trilogy and therefore would not allow certain characters to be here in 1962 where it all began. We do get Cyclops' little brother Havok, which again musses with any sort of coexistence between the Marvel Comic Universe and the Marvel Movie Universe - but there I go being a nerd again. Actually one can easily put aside these notions of foul play as merely an alternate reality from the one we comic book nerds grew up with - something the comics themselves play at all the damned time. Of course, as someone with more than a bit of Irish in him, I may never forgive the inexplicable Americanization of Banshee (wow, I am a nerd, aren't I). But I digress. 

What it all comes down to though (comic purism aside) is whether one has a good time watching or not. This isn't meant to be Antonioni or Tarkovsky (although just the prospect of one of these auteurs, in some obviously alternate reality, making an X-Men movie fills this cinephile and comic book nerd with quite a giddy sense of glee). This is meant as pop entertainment and therefore should be graded as such - so the question remains, did I have a good time watching X-Men: First Class? Well of course I did. Perhaps it isn't in the upper pantheon of the genre (the heft and depth of Nolan's The Dark Knight helps it lead that realm) and maybe it doesn't have the inherent charm brought to Iron Man by Robert Downey Jr., but it is  as rich, perhaps even richer in many ways, as the first two X-Men movies (we can all forget number three), and the combined one-two punch of McAvoy and Fassbender, the early sixties setting, the splash-inducing finale wherein Magneto gets his oats and finally accepts his destiny, and the best damned superhero cameo ever (involving the perfectly-dropped lone F-Bomb of the film) make for a very fun movie indeed. Now let's bring on Chris Claremont to write the next film in the series and see what happens then. If you have no idea of whom I speak, then I suppose that makes you safely one of the non-nerds. If you do know, then you know what great things could come of it. Mutant and proud.

[Originally published at The Cinematheque on 06/04/11]

Film Review: The Avengers

A man out of time, a born leader.  A cocksure genius with a penchant for suits of armour.  An Asgardian god, the son of Odin.  A femme fatale who's bite packs quite the wallop.  An assassin who can make a bow and arrow sing with death and destruction.  Oh yeah, and they have a Hulk.  Captain America.  Iron Man.  Thor.  Black Widow.  Hawkeye.  The Hulk.  These are the band of wouldbe misfits that super-spy Nick Fury has assembled to save the Earth from certain doom.  These are the heroes, the superheroes if you will, who come together, albeit it more than a bit uneasily at first, as is par the course for such a clash of titans, to form the Earth's, and Marvel comicdom's, mightiest heroes, The Avengers.  Natch.

Following up on the momentum of a string of precursors that included Iron Man 1 and 2, Thor and Captain America: The First Avenger (there were a couple of rather lackluster Hulks as well, but no one seems to ever mention those anymore), this Joss Whedon directed culmination of all the aforementioned preliminary superhero giddiness (another culmination will surely come with The Avengers 2 in a few years, after another string - phase two some are calling it - of entries into this multifaceted franchise) is rife with possibilities, while at the same time acting as one huge ass risk.  Sure, it will make money (opening weekend may very well be a record-setting time) but will it stay true to those already in love with these iconic characters, those who have grown up with them.  In other words, will the fanboy, casual and hard core alike, be satisfied with this culmination?  Of course with a fanboy of sorts (and actual comic book writer) at the proverbial helm, the answer could and should, and is a resounding yes.

Reprising their roles as the stars of the aforementioned multifaceted franchise builders, the film stars Robert Downey Jr. as the invincible Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, Chris Evans as that man out of time, Captain Steve Rogers, the formidable Captain America, and Chris Hemsworth as the Asgardian of myth, The Mighty Thor, as the core - the big three if you will - of The Avengers team.  We also get Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanov, The Black Widow (she too reprises her role from Iron Man 2), Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton, the archer better known as Hawkeye (after his brief cameo in last year's Thor) and first timer Mark Ruffalo as Dr. Bruce Banner, the alter-ego of that "other guy" with the rather severe anger management problem (Ruffalo is the third Hulk in as many movies, but who's counting).  Toss in Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury, Colbie Smulders as Agent Maria Hill and Clark Gregg reprising his role as Agent Phil Coulson - not to mention Gwyneth Paltrow in a glorified cameo as Pepper Potts, assistant and love interest to Downey's Stark - and you got yourself a fun, action-packed superhero extravaganza.   But what is it really all about?

Now I am not here to give a lesson in comic book culture or Marvel Comics mythology, for one must assume that those seeing the film, or at least those wishing to read more about it, are already well-versed in who The Avengers are and what kind of history these characters have with each other.  Granted, the universe inside Joss Whedon's movie is a bit different than that of the regular Marvel Universe - this team of Avengers is actually based on The Ultimates, a variant version of the main Marvel Universe, but again, those who are interested in such things are already in the so-called know - but still, there is no need for anything more than mild hashing out of the story and its characters, so I will give that to you rather quickly and mostly painlessly now.  I suppose my goal here is to bring together those forces of fanboydom and those of the more cinephiliac bent - both a sort of hipster-esque outcast - and get them to shake hands somewhere in the middle.  In attempting so, here is what is up for those not in the superhero know.

In the so-called beginning, a man named Stan Lee created a group of superheroes called The Fantastic Four, and ushered in what would come to be known as the Silver Age of comics.  Lee, along with his compatriot Jack Kirby, would write and draw (respectively) some of the most groundbreaking works of comicdom in the era - The Amazing Spider-Man, The Uncanny X-Men, The Incredible Hulk and Daredevil, Man Without Fear were just a few among them.  The most pertinent to our little story here was a comic called The Avengers (or The Mighty Avengers if you will), a band of misfit superheroes who were stagnating on their own until Lee and Kirby brought them together to battle the Asgardian god of mischief, Loki.  Now the story went a bit differently back then - there were two characters, The Wasp and Ant-Man, who are not now among our founding heroes, and Captain America would not show up until issue four (as I said, Whedon's film is based more on an updated, more retconned version of the story) - but the basic gist is the same.

Brought together by the aforementioned Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D., a super spy organization that polices the planet (think a world-wide über CIA kind of thing, but with flying aircraft carriers), or should we say manipulated into coming together by Fury (any regular Marvel reader knows such a thing is pure Fury), our intrepid warriors - Earth's Mightiest Heroes as Downey's Iron Man tells us in his usual snide and snarky way, one of many winks and nods to the comics - are forced into battle to stop Loki, and the forces that are secretly controlling him from the far reaches of space, from destroying the world.  Not an easy task one might say, but for The Mighty Avengers, all in a days (very hard) work.  The soldier, the genius, the warrior, the spy, the assassin and the monster come together and become the superhero super group that we have all come to know and love from a lifetime of comic book reading.  Well at least the nerds among us - this critic very much included.

Director Whedon, that fanboy fave who has not only created some of the most endearingly cultish characters (Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her supernatural posse, the cast and crew of Firefly, the lost souls of Dollhouse) but was also the driving creative force behind the first two year or so run on the critically acclaimed Astonishing X-Men series for the fine folks over at Marvel, makes it all come out smelling like the comic geek's wet dream come true - even if its level of smooth goodness may not transfer over to those non-comic moviegoers among the bunch (the ones that need more of an explanation that what I gave above).  In other words, the film, though perhaps not in the Wellesian/Fordian realm that something like Chris Nolan's The Dark Knight finds itself basking in, nor in that strange and obscure realm that Zack Snyder's Watchmen so perfectly niches into, will surely delight those in the proverbial know, bound to give fans of the comics several orgasms throughout - and judging from the cheers at the midnight showing that I attended, that is just what happened.

Now even though the battle scenes were above par, across the so-called board, blending green screen CGI technology with real hands-on buttkicking at least as well as, if not better than most films of the genre, it is Whedon's script, and the rendering of such by the actors, that makes this film shine brighter than any of its Marveldom, hero-building precursors, save for perhaps the first Iron Man.  Though many criticize the film for having too long periods of inaction between the big action set pieces, this is simply not true.  These places of so-called inaction (and really only those who go in for Michael Bay movies would complain about such a ridiculous thing) are where we get the hero-building that is so needed in the comic book world of the Marvel Universe, and Whedon integrates his film with a real sense of that very same hero-building and in a sense keeps intact everything that makes the Marvel Universe a living breathing organism - a thing that would have seemed nearly impossible just a decade ago.  The highlights of the film are not the big bang brouhahas where hero battles villain with the fate of the world on the line (though these are of course delicious to watch) but the smaller, almost aside-esque moments instead.  

Downey and Ruffalo especially marvel us with the chemistry they have and give off on screen, sizing each other up, and playing off of each others strengths and weaknesses of character.  Evans, as the stoic and noble First Avenger also gets in on the game, and Clark Gregg has some fine moments of his own, not to mention Tom Hiddleston giving his snarky all as bad guy Loki, but still it is Downey and Ruffalo who steal the show, both as men and as warrior and beast respectively.  All-in-all, The Avengers is a damn fine bang bang motion picture with all the requisite superhero banter one would, and should, expect, as well as some of the best action sequences in the genre's history.  But still, it is the little things that make the film work as well as it does, for what it is.  Downey's Stark wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt (think about it), Evans and Downey's two heroes sniping at each other as civilians but working as a perfect one-two punch in the field, the coolness of Ruffalo's Banner becoming the "other guy", the hero worship in Clark Gregg's eyes as his agent Coulson mews over Captain America, Hemsworth's Thor sheepishly mentioning his brother being adopted, the general banter between friends and enemies alike.

All the above, wrapped together so smoothly and seamlessly in Whedon's top notch (one could even say Tarantino-esque, albeit on the lighter side) script.  There are things that I could have liked better, most notably an expanded characterization of Hawkeye (he was always one of my favourite comic book Avengers, though I have always preferred the more arrogant old school version than the more stoic and determined modern day, Ultimate comics version that we get here), but overall we the fans, both casual and hard core alike, get a pretty damn fun piece of cinematic superhero entertainment.  Perhaps nothing that will top the critical annals of film history, but enough to make it, save for the aforementioned Watchmen and The Dark Knight (both above and beyond their ilk), one of the best pieces of its genre.  A pure and unadulterated blockbustery good time is to be had by all.  Simply put, in comic book movie terms, excelsior!  Those in the know understand.  'nuff said.

Retro Review: Thor

The following is part of a series where I bring back some of my "older" reviews (those written during my 2004-2011 tenure at the now mostly defunct The Cinematheque) and offer them up to a "newer" generation.  This is a special edition of Retro Reviews, looking back at the films that have led up to the May 4th release of The Avengers.

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Verily I doth praise thouest motion picture of the Mighty Thor, God of Thunder and bravest and most noble of all Midgard's Mightiest Avengers. Tis not the folly which most typically bewitches thou righteous and quite gallant genre. Thou knowest this to be true. Now there are several things wrong with the preceding three sentences (other than the sad fact that so low a percentage of the current populace speak in Middle English, especially comic-hewn Middle English). The first being that, as anyone who has read Marvel Comics knows (or knowest to be true if you will), Thor is, at the very least, equaled in both bravery and nobility by fellow Avenger Captain America - but that is a debate for another time and another movie (conveniently coming to a multiplex near you in just two short months).

The main problem with my opening is the fact that though Thor (the 22nd movie adapted from Marvel Comics) is a thoroughly enjoyable movie, full of moments of fanboy-intended giddy delights, tis not the Godly Asgardian wonder I had hoped (and possibly prayed to the Norse Gods) for. Still though, even though my (mostly) unrealistic aspirations were verily dashed, Thor, with its realm-hopping heroics and noble storybook questing (as well as a touch of comedy that harkens back to the comics), is a more than pleasurable entry in the (more and more every day) ubiquitous superhero genre, as well as a fun and nostalgic trip back to my boyhood days of reading the God of Thunder's exploits in the pages of the aforementioned Marvel Comics (not to mention my occasional adulthood forays back into the fantastical universe wherein I grew up).

Really though, besides being made as (somewhat) merely a precursor for the upcoming The Avengers movie (the eventual centerpiece bringing all of the Marvel Studios Universe together in one great big makeshift Cosmic Cube), the Kenneth Branagh directed Thor (and it really should have been called The Mighty Thor, but that is just a one-time fanboy's piffling argument) is a fine piece of action cinema. Even though Branagh's directing style is basically a non-style (the fact that the director had to compensate for transfer into 3D and therefore could not do too many tricks with his camera, only adds to Branagh's lack of auteurial signature) and his expected Shakespearean bent leaves a bit (but just a bit) to be desired (Darker Kenneth! Go darker!) the movie barrels along with a certain vim and vigor (and a mightily mythical bravado) that suits the history of the character to a veritable tee. 

Some of this may be due to Branagh's skillful yet somewhat forcibly narrowed direction (the Irishman claims a childhood love of the character of Thor) and some may come out of Marvel Comic's brilliant J. Michael Straczynski's story idea (the screenplay was then written by Don Payne, Ashley Miller and Zack Stentz, the latter two having also written the script for the upcoming X-Men: First Class) but as they say, if you do not cast your movie properly, then nothing in the world is going to save it. I do not know if they actually say that or not (personally I have never heard anyone say that, and it probably isn't even true anyway) but that was my way of segueing into the following statement. As far as I am concerned, Thor is cast just about right no matter where you happen to look. There. I said it. 

Chris Hemsworth (seen briefly as pere Kirk in J.J. Abrams' Star Trek reboot) makes for a good God of Thunder. His acting ability is perhaps rather limited (though I have not seen enough to rightfully judge such a thing) but his look fits the character and really, what more can we ask for. However, it is the addition of newbie Academy Award winner Natalie Portman as Jane Foster, astrophysicist and mortal love interest to Thor, and token Scandinavian Stellan Skarsgård as Dr. Selvig (placed here possibly to give the inherent knowledge of Norse religion a respectable emoter), as well as Sir Anthony Hopkins as Odin the Allfather, daddy of all daddies, that gives the film a bit of thespianic respectability. This way Hemsworth can do the posing and not have to have the added responsibility of acting - though he does indeed do a fine job with the character so perhaps my passive-aggressive jabs are a bit unwarranted. But hey, he's a God, he can take it. 

The other fun performance in the movie is Tom Hiddleston as Loki, mythical mischief-maker and jealous brother to Thor (and one of my all-time favourite Marvel villains). Fellow critical compatriot Glenn Kenny hilariously describes the Godly brothers as "pro wrestler Chris Jericho and goth-rock combo Bauhaus frontman Peter Murphy." It is the morose character of Loki who, if Joss Whedon's The Avengers follows its comic history, will be integral in the formation of the superhero supergroup. Loki, along with fellow Asgardians, the Lady Sif (a smokin' Jaimie Alexander), the Warriors Three (Josh Dallas, Tadanobu Asano and Ray Stevenson as Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg respectively) and the stoic gatekeeper Heimdall (played by African-Anglo actor Idris Elba in a move that was probably strategically made more by the PC lawyers than any sort of artistic consideration - though he does a perfectly fine job and probably too much has been made of his casting choice to really add to it here) collectively help to bring this world of Gods and men to life. 

But enough of all these sundry items so requisite in some reviews and/or critiques. What it all comes down to is this: is the damned movie any good!? I suppose my answer would be yes. Perhaps it doesn't have the grand operatic style of Christopher Nolan's Batman movies (though always being a Marvel over DC kind of guy, I cannot help my great respect for these films, brought forth more by the auteur's bravura filmmaking style than by a sudden love for the heroes of DC) nor the cool pleasure of the first Iron Man (the second one leaves a bit to be desired) but Branagh's (Mighty) Thor is more than equal to the heights of other Marvel movies like the first two entries in both The X-Men and Spider-Man franchises. Yet in the end (and I don't mean the obligatory post-credit Nick Fury/Sam Jackson tag) what Thor does more than anything else, especially to this comic-raised critic, is make me wish The Avengers (Best. Comic. Ever.) were coming up immediately after. 

Perhaps, as others have noted (and I myself just more than alluded to), Thor, like Iron Man 2 before it and Captain America after, is nothing more than one long trailer for the upcoming Avengers conglomeration (complete with an all-too-brief cameo by Jeremy Renner as everyone's favourite archer), and in a way that is indeed an annoying trait in the genre these days, but with its epic, grandiose storytelling (and yes, Shakespearean in many ways - thank you Mr. Branagh), sleek special effects and otherwordly design (damn the naysayers that claim Asgard looks weak!) and slew of intriguing characters (methinks the Mighty Thor has always intrigued this grown-up child) and the actors playing them (could have used a bit more of Hopkins as Odin though - he seemed to have very little to do) Thor is indeed well worthy of thouest title of God of Thunder emblazoned across its poster. And to hurry them along as much as they seem to be hurrying themselves, let me finish with this plea: bring on Steve Rogers and that iconic shield. Verily, I command thee! 

[Originally published at The Cinematheque on 05/12/11]

Retro Review: Iron Man / Iron Man 2

The following is part of a series where I bring back some of my "older" reviews (those written during my 2004-2011 tenure at the now mostly defunct The Cinematheque) and offer them up to a "newer" generation.  This is a special edition of Retro Reviews, looking back at the films that have led up to the May 4th release of The Avengers.

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Iron Man 

It may sound quite snobbish (call me a pretentious prick if you must - it hurts me not) but the super-hero genre alone does not allow for a truly great film, which means that Iron Man, along with past compatriots Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, Hulk, Fantastic Four, Daredevil and X-Men, no matter how enjoyable they may very well be, are doomed from the very start to reach no higher than sufficently able or perhaps even popcorny-to-the-max. This is not meant as an insult to a so-called lesser art form, for I am a comic book geek from way back (and Iron Man being one of my favourites from back in his Bob Layton/David Michelinie, Demon in a Bottle days - see, I said I was a geek),  but just a fact of cinematic artistry.  And yes, though it is a lot of fun, made even more true by the pitch perfect performance of Robert Downey Jr., Iron Man does just that. 

There is no denying one of the best casting jobs in recent motion picture history - past tabloid bad boy Downey Jr. playing the drunken playboy Tony Stark a la Iron Man as if by osmosis - and there also may be no denying an above average screenplay - especially by genre standards - and a sly coolness brought to the table by Downey and director Jon Favreau, but there is also no denying that this is a comic book movie and being so (no matter what that blobbish blemish of an ogre Harry Knowles has to say about it) can never crawl any higher than its slightly above mediocre entertainment-for-entertainment's sake accomplishment we see on the screen.  I really wish it could, and perhaps someday it will, but for right now it may be quite fun, and quite adventure-riddled, but it is still something short of truly great.

Then again, perhaps true cinematic greatness is not really what a film like Iron Man should even be striving for.  I mean really, how can we seriously expect something akin to action classics like Seven Samurai or Stagecoach.  Perhaps sheer fun, just like one gets in the comics on which the film is based (even when they went deeper than expected) should be enough for any comic and/or movie fan.  And yes, if nothing else, this film is indeed fun.  Symbiotic lead performance aside, the cliche that befalls this film and its inevitable obviousness (is anyone even remotely surprised when the villain is "revealed"!?) not to mention its franchise-in-the-making nods and winks, is nearly enough to sink the film altogether, but in the end, it is its cockiness, its inherent fun, that saves the proverbial day. That and the surround-sound thump of Black Sabbath as the hero first kicks his requisite ass. Da da da da don. 

ed. note: A few months after writing this review, Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight came out and I was proven wrong that there could never be a truly great superhero movie.  Oh well, it is good to be wrong in this case.

Iron Man 2

The first Iron Man movie, with its pitch perfect casting of Robert Downey Jr. as the titular hard-drinking, fast-living, egomaniacal, playboy superhero, and director Favreau's shoot first and never really ask questions at all action sequences, and a general irreverent outlook which was perfect fodder for such fare, was a surprisingly enjoyable Summer romp and one of the better superhero movies to come out as of late. This second edition of the franchise, mainly the first in a series of set-ups for the eventual Avengers Assemble uber-franchise set to start its engines in 2012, and now starring a seemingly bored Downey as an equally bored Tony Stark/Iron Man, is not only a much inferior film to the first, but also a frustrating let down in almost every department. 

Action-wise, it is as scattershot and poorly executed as a Transformers movie. Story-wise, it is mere boilerplate foreshadowing for the aforementioned supergroup movie extravaganza. Cast-wise it fares a bit better, but just a bit. Downey is still a joy in any role, though, as I said earlier, quite bored it would seem. Comeback kid Mickey Rourke plays at a frenetic kind of stoicism as requisite baddie Whiplash, even though his role is mere cliche. Scarlett Johansson looks great kicking ass in skin-tight leather as the master spy and femme fatale Black Widow but is nonetheless a drag. Gwyneth Paltrow, returning as Stark's sidekick and periodic lover Pepper Potts is even more of a drag than Johansson. 

Don Cheadle, as Rhoady/War Machine, may be a better actor than the rather lackluster Terrence Howard (who played the part in the first film and who was infamously ousted for part deux) but is given very little to do other than pose in a big-ass tin suit. Samuel L. Jackson is superfly as always as Nick Fury, but there is much too little of the superspy to make it worth your while. Only Sam Rockwell, as Stark's business nemesis and Whiplash's benefactor Justin Hammer, manages to do anything along the lines of stealing the show. In fact he does just that. Unfortunately there is not much of a show to steal in the first place. 

From an auteuristic viewpoint, unless it is directed by someone with the chops/cahones of Chris Nolan, no one expects greatness from a superhero movie in the first place (even this comic geek can admit that) but after the giddy popcorn ride of the first film - replete with the obvious title track blaring over Downey's excesses of bad boy charm - one hopes for something better than this mediocrity in iron clothing. Much like the third Spider-Man, which was enough to put that franchise in deep sleep for a while and send director Sam Raimi racing back to his schlock comic-horror roots (and incidentally making one of the best films of his career!), this second coming of Marvel's tin soldier is both too much and not enough. 

Seeming rushed and yet too laid back (I know, it makes no sense to me either!) Favreau's lack of directional skills, a thing that seemed to be a refreshing help the first time around - forget the dark, dank depths of the properly sinister Dark Knight, Iron Man is pure adolescent frivolity at its heartbroken metal core - ends up as much a hindrance this time as the shotty script that hovers around waiting for some hardpressed action scenario to rear its haphazard head. It may be a strange criticism, but it seems as though everything that made the first film work on the level it did, are exactly the things which make this followup misfire like a short-circuited repulsor ray. 

I suppose this being just a cog in the wheel of what someday is meant to be a fully interlocking cinematic Marvel Universe, where each film crosses over with every other film just like the comic book world does (and where one day we may very well see The Incredible Hulk smashing Iron Man's shiny tin suit all up!) means the sum outweighs the parts, and therefore we are meant to just sit through the fodder in fanboy hopes beyond hopes they don't screw up that aforementioned Avengers Assemble movie and all the comic adaptations that come after it. Of course if Nolan's Dark Knight (and to an extent, Zack Snyder's Watchmen) hadn't come along and raised the bar on superhero movies in the first place, perhaps the mediocrity of Iron Man 2 wouldn't seem all that strange after all.

[Iron Man originally published at The Cinematheque on 05/05/08 / Iron Man 2 originally published on 05/11/10]

Retro Review: Captain America: The First Avenger

The following is part of a series where I bring back some of my "older" reviews (those written during my 2004-2011 tenure at the now mostly defunct The Cinematheque) and offer them up to a "newer" generation.  This is a special edition of Retro Reviews, looking back at the films that have led up to the May 4th release of The Avengers.

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The skinny but determined kid from Brooklyn. The sense of old fashioned determination and responsibility - not to mention storytelling. The trials and tribulations of a man who just wants to do the right thing - against all odds. The nostalgic look and feel of World War II era heroics and set design that meshes perfectly with this technical period piece. That myth-making iconic red, white & blue shield. It's all here in Joe Johnston's Captain America: The First Avenger, the latest chapter (after The Hulk, Iron Man I & II and Thor) in the lead-up to next year's all-encompassing ultimate-trip, team-up superhero supergroup blockbuster-in-the-making Avengers. 

But being more than just introductory fodder (which incidentally, most of the other Marvelous aforementioned movies have the feel of as well), this latest film snatched from the pages of Marvel comics is an appropriately rousing adventure story that plays out not just as mere actioner, with superheroes and grunts alike kicking the requisite Nazi ass (and there is a lot of that), but as one brave man's battle against the evils of the world around him. The overall film has a pulpy, cliffhanger feel to its tattered edges, not unlike it's closest thematic relative, the original Raiders of the Lost Ark (which there is more than a couple allusions and/or references too - "and the Fuhrer searches for his trinkets in the desert") - and that is damn well what it should have in its iconic concoction of old fashioned superheroism and modern day Marveldom. 

First created by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby (best. comicbook. artist. ever. - as well as, in the eyes of comic book aficionados for generations to come, an almost as iconic figure as his hero would become) back in the Spring of 1941, the legendary Captain America had managed, in the comic books of the time, to get into the war nearly a year before his country did in real life. Published by Timely Comics (who would later become Marvel) this star spangled hero, shown punching out Hitler on the cover of Captain America #1 and going on to help defeat the Axis powers (both on the pages of his comic and in the morale-boosting of his nation's young people) was the perfect icon for WWII era America. Possibly seeming a bit square for today's society, in his hey day, Captain America was the red, white & blue symbol of patriotism and heroics. 

After a severe lag in sales post WWII (America now wanted to forget the war and move on with their lives and besides, horror comics, not superheroes were now the popular read of the day) the star spangled Avenger would see his final issue hit newsstands in early 1950 - and this once proud icon of American military prowess, save for an ill-fated and short-lived comeback in 1954, would be lost to pop culture for well over a decade. Then a resurgence in both superheroes and the comic industry as a whole, thanks mostly to Stan Lee's creation of The Fantastic Four in 1961 (a resurgence that would also bring the aforementioned Kirby back into the comic book limelight as this Silver Age of comics would also usher in The Hulk, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor and a band of pesky mutants), would bring Captain America back to life (literally pulled out of suspended animation from his supposed frozen arctic grave) and place his now legendary image front and center as leader of the supergroup The Avengers. 

Now here we are in the summer of 2011 (it's blockbuster time! - to paraphrase MC Hammer) and Chris Evans (already known to comics fans as the Human Torch in the failures that were The Fantastic Four and Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer - let's just forget about those now) dons the red, white & blue of the legendary first Avenger. Starting out as a uniquely skinny Steve Rogers (Evans is CGI'd onto an abnormally tiny body for the first act of the movie - the actor stating in an interview that now he knows what he would look like as a heroin addict) our intrepid wouldbe hero keeps getting turned down for military duty until a German ex-pat scientist (played with accented glee by Stanley Tucci) enlists this scrawny but determined soldier into a special top secret project. With the aid of the gruff and unconvinced Colonel Phillips (an appropriately gruff Tommy Lee Jones), Industrialist Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper as Iron Man's daddy) and British spy Peggy Carter, with legs to die for and a right hook to match (the all-but unknown Hayley Atwell), this runt from Brooklyn is given the Super Soldier serum and becomes the hunkiest of hunks, Captain America. 

After a brief stint as a senator's show pony, grafted into a ridiculous version of the iconic uniform of Captain America lore (actually it is designed exactly like the one from the comics but when taken from the pencil and ink drawing of the page to a real life human being, it becomes pretty funny looking indeed) and forced to shill for war bonds, Rogers' disobeys orders and rushes head first (and all by himself) deep into the lair of Nazi mastermind Johann Schmidt, essentially turning himself into a true blue (and red and white) American hero. All this and our humble hero gets to go mano y mano with Johann Schmidt's dementedly deviated super Nazi the Red Skull (Hugo Weaving in a particularly snarling, yet underused, portrayal of pure evil). Since this is such an iconic comic book character, and the opening obviously takes place in modern times, the ending of the film may be void of any spoiler warnings (though just in case, I will keep my big trap shut about certain things, even if they are already clearly known by any and all fanboys and girls that will be seeing this film) but even so, the ending does seem a bit hurried and rather abrupt. 

Captain America: The First Avenger is a good old fashioned adventure story full of vim and vigor, and even though the character of Captain America may seem a trifle bland when compared to such fellow superheroes as the darkly troubled Batman or the reckless playboy Iron Man (some of my favourite comic book moments were when Captain America had confrontations with more modern and more arrogant fellow heroes such as Iron Man and Hawkeye - which incidentally bodes well for the upcoming Avengers movie), his iconic stature and natural leadership abilities (not to mention Chris Evans surprisingly square-jawed portrayal of the Avenger) make for a rousing (again with the obvious metaphor) Raiders of the Lost Ark style motion picture experience. This of course is appropriate considering director Johnston (Hildago, The Rocketeer &Jumanji, as well as an episode of The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones ) may well have a Spielbergian complex about his work. In sum - it may not be the greatest superhero movie ever made, and it does have its faults, but it is still a very fun ride as they say.  A very fun ride indeed.

[Originally published at The Cinematheque on 07/22/11]