Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

The Low-Down: There’s a lot riding on the slim, young shoulders of everyone’s friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Far From Home is the first film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) since the recent double-whammy of Avengers movies changed the status quo forever. Where does the most successful superhero franchise in the world go after this? Can non-legacy superheroes – like Spider-Man, Black Panther, Captain Marvel etc – carry on where Iron Man left off? Is the MCU running out of steam? It’s a big burden for a relatively smaller film in the franchise to carry. But Far From Home does so very well by zeroing in on what has successfully fuelled the MCU thus far: prizing character development above all to tell a story that’s as emotional as it is entertaining.

The Story: Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is trying to find his bearings in an unsettled world. He, along with half his school-mates, has suddenly reappeared on Earth – unaged and not at all dead – five years after the Snap. His mentor, Tony Stark, haunts him in the form of video tributes and street art. There’s something strange going on between Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) and Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau), Tony’s Head of Security. Amidst the uncertainty, all Peter wants is to get back to normal: to enjoy his school trip to Europe, and to let MJ (Zendaya) know how he really feels about her. But world-saving duties wait for no young man. Suddenly, Peter is roped in by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) to do battle alongside Quentin Beck a.k.a. Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal), taking down rogue Elementals that have already ravaged one world and are hellbent on destroying another.

The Good: At its best, Far From Home impressively blends the awkward comedy of a coming-of-age romantic drama with country-hopping superhero action thrills. It’s a delight to watch Peter use his superhuman skills as Spider-Man to navigate his way through hormonal messes of his own making – often in the same scene. This is as intriguing a narrative direction as the MCU has ever taken: using a lighter, more humorous lens to examine the aftermath of Endgame’s darker, considerably more mature themes. At the same time, Far From Home finds a rather ingenious way to quietly become one of the MCU’s most political films. (More on this later.) It’s worth noting, too, that, in a franchise filled with sublime casting coups, Holland continues to prove himself to be one of its very best. He dances nimbly through Peter’s high-school misadventures, while still tapping into the heartbroken, traumatised core of his character.

The Not-So-Good: With the action focused so squarely on Peter, his friends – especially his love interest – invariably suffer. Jacob Batalon is as goofily charming as ever as Ned, Peter’s best friend, but he might as well have the words ‘comic relief’ tattooed across his forehead. Zendaya’s sparky, sarcastic MJ – while still an interesting twist on a classic character – comes dangerously close to being a damsel in distress. And, while Jon Watts’ direction is more zippy and confident than it was on Homecoming, he doesn’t always land or weave narrative beats together very effectively. As a result, the film occasionally sags when it should soar.

One of Life’s Great Mysterios: What is Gyllenhaal – indie movie darling and theatre thespian – doing in an MCU movie? It might seem like one of life’s great mysteries… but all will soon come clear once you realise just what drew him to the part of Quentin Beck. Fans of the comics will know that there’s far more to the character than what we saw in the trailers, but nothing will prepare them for how brilliantly he’s been reinvented for the MCU. Essentially, this is a gift of a role for the prodigiously gifted Gyllenhaal – allowing him to play every shade of hero (including a few notes of uncanny similarity to Robert Downey Jr’s Tony Stark), while also indulging his more whimsical, theatrical side. In retrospect, it’s easy to see how Gyllenhaal must have been drawn to the grim relevance of Quentin’s storyline to the world in which we live today. Just as Black Panther examined race and Captain Marvel explored toxic masculinity, Far From Home asks audiences to think about the concepts of truth and reality – at a time when both are very much under threat.

Fan Fare: Marvel has trained us all well – never leave the theatre before the credits stop rolling, for fear of missing a funny moment or a narrative nugget that hints at future films and storylines. This reaches a new level of necessity with Far From Home. Each mindblowing scene – one midway through and one at the very end of the credits – is vital to knowing (or, at least, guessing) where the MCU is going next. Also, watch out for one of Tony Stark’s beloved A.I. acronyms: it will apply, in a subversively clever way, to more than one character in the film, drawing laughs in one instance, and eliciting a deep sense of foreboding in another.

Recommended? Absolutely. There might be a few growing pains here and there, but Marvel has hit another home run – grappling effectively and emotionally with its immediate past, while raising the storytelling stakes for the future.

X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019)

The Low-Down: In the age of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) and the Avengers, it can be hard to forget that the X-Men were actually here first. The hyper-kinetic, gloriously operatic X-Men (2000) made blockbuster superhero movies cool again – plucking several of Marvel Comics’ best characters out of cult comic books and launching them into the mainstream. It’s a shame that such an iconic franchise is ending with a whimper rather than a bang. X-Men: Dark Phoenix is the final installment in the series – because it has to be, now that Fox is merging with Disney/Marvel. But the film does itself no favours in revisiting a storyline that was already told, albeit rather poorly, in The Last Stand (2006).

The Story: We’ve already met the ridiculously powerful cosmic force that is the Phoenix: it latched onto Famke Janssen’s Jean Grey over a decade ago, and decimated a bunch of fan-favourite characters in its fiery wake. This time around, the Phoenix finds a host in Sophie Turner’s younger Jean Grey, unlocking past trauma and present angst as it burns through the childhood defenses put in place in Jean’s mind by Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy). As Jean goes on the run, her former allies rush to find her – some set on protecting her, others on eliminating the threat she poses to their safety and loved ones. But can they save her from Vuk (Jessica Chastain), the ice-cold leader of an alien race hellbent on claiming the Phoenix’s power for herself?

The Good: There’s actually a decent amount of good seeded throughout Dark Phoenix. Most intriguing of all is the film’s darker take on Xavier – he’s usually portrayed as an unequivocally good (and therefore slightly boring) character, devoted to his young charges and leading the fight for a better, more unbiased world. Paired with a fascinating, almost petulant performance from McAvoy, Dark Phoenix reminds us that, sometimes, the road to Hell on Earth is paved with good intentions. Long-time X-Men writer Simon Kinberg makes his directorial debut, and proves more than equal to the task of whipping up fantastically thrilling action sequences. He peppers the film with plenty of lovely imagery and aesthetic touches: from Jean’s hair taking on a life of its own when she’s in Phoenix mode, to Quicksilver (Evan Peters) speed-climbing a whirlwind of debris.

The Not-So-Good: It’s hard to shake the feeling that there isn’t much reason for this film to exist, other than giving Kinberg the opportunity to take a second stab at the same story. (He co-wrote The Last Stand, to eternal fan derision.) Dark Phoenix edges closer to the classic Chris Claremont storyline in the comics, but it never quite fulfils its own potential. The Xavier subplot doesn’t get anywhere near the true depth or darkness it deserves. Chastain is brilliant casting, but for no real reason. If the screenplay had supported her better, Chastain could have transformed Vuk into a properly sympathetic antagonist; instead, she’s stuck in the key of one-dimensional supervillain. We get a peek at Genosha, a mutant safe haven under the governance of Erik Lensherr/Magneto (Michael Fassbender) – but we don’t linger there.

Phoenix Rising: Turner isn’t given much to do other than glower and fret, but she does it all well enough. The trouble is Jean Grey as a character. In all her incarnations, including in the comics, she gains immeasurable power, but loses all agency. She seems strong, but is actually a frustratingly passive protagonist. That’s compounded here by literally everyone around her constantly telling her what to do – from Charles, Erik and the annoyingly maternal Raven Darkholme (Jennifer Lawrence), to her well-meaning boyfriend, Scott Summers (Tye Sheridan), and the relentless Vuk. Is Jean supposed to master her emotions, to repress her powers, to stay quiet? Or is she supposed to unleash them, to revel in them, to metaphorically shout about her remarkable abilities? It’s a conundrum that exists in the source material – and this film makes a strong case for retiring Claremont’s Dark Phoenix for good.

Recommended? If you’ve ever loved the X-Men, you’ll probably want to say goodbye to this incarnation of these beloved characters before they’re resurrected in the MCU. But this is a decidedly middling installment in the franchise – not as dreadful as Apocalypse, but nowhere near the giddy heights of X-Men or Logan.

Avengers: Endgame (2019)

The Low-Down: Statistically, the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has achieved a great deal: over 11 years and 21 films, it has introduced dozens of relatively obscure characters into mainstream pop culture. More importantly, however, the franchise has proven that long-form storytelling can work in a cinematic context – as long as you balance plot with heart and humour, prizing character development over spectacle. That’s no small feat, and it’s even more remarkable that a movie with the gargantuan scale and ambition of Avengers: Endgame doesn’t fall apart beneath the weight of an unwieldy script or great expectations. In fact, this is the MCU’s crowning achievement: a heartfelt love letter to the Avengers, their stories, the actors who play them, and to the fans.

The Story: That damn Snap, eh? At the end of Avengers: Infinity War, Thanos wiped out half of the galaxy’s population with a snap of his Infinity-Stone-enhanced fingers. After bearing witness to teammates and loved ones vanishing in swirls of dust and ash, the remaining Avengers struggle to live with the crippling grief and guilt of surviving the Snap… and of failing to prevent it. Some characters spiral into darkness; others are frozen in place – a few even manage to move on. But hope is rekindled when Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) returns from the mysterious Quantum Realm, where the usual laws of physics, space and time do not apply…

The Great: Endgame is a storytelling triumph – not only does it bring together and pay off plots and ideas that were seeded over a decade ago, it builds solid, powerful, heartrendingly emotional narrative arcs for almost all of the original Avengers. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) must grapple with their pasts to figure out their futures, while Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) and Clint Barton (Jeremy Renner) find themselves literally fighting to save their families. Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) might provide much of the film’s comic relief, but both characters are also gifted with grace notes, growth and moments of true peace.

The Super-Great: The ability to juggle and create space for multiple perspectives and storylines in one film has been honed to a fine art by directors Anthony and Joe Russo and screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely. But their narrative strategy feels virtuosic in Endgame, paired as it is with an ingenious plot device that allows the film to truly acknowledge the staggering depth and breadth of its own history. Suddenly, the emotional and narrative stakes are raised, as beloved characters are forced to re-examine their lives, stories and priorities. You might find yourself in tears and in stitches, frequently in the same scene, and this happens throughout the film – a testament to the Russo Brothers’ genius and their skills at anchoring even the most outlandish of storylines in humour and humanity.

The Not-So-Great: This is emphatically not a film for casual viewers – there is no entry point, no easing in, no exposition, to help you understand what the heck is going on if you haven’t watched most of the preceding films in the MCU. There are also a few logical fallacies and plotholes scattered throughout Endgame that will puzzle you the more you think about them – from the wobbly rules governing time travel to the fractured way in which the too-conveniently hyper-powered Carol Danvers (Brie Larson) pops in and out of the story.

Stan Service: This film, above all others in the MCU, feels like a heartfelt tribute to the very concept of Marvel itself, finding numerous ways to reward and delight true-blue fans. Naturally, it includes Stan Lee’s final appearance in the MCU, while folding in a host of other cameos and callbacks that reinforce the interconnectedness of the entire franchise – of all the stories that have been told before, especially the movie that started it all (Iron Man in 2008). There are even a couple of brilliant nods to comics lore, largely centred around the character of Captain America, that feel like the Russo Brothers are deliberately righting a few wrongs where some of Marvel Comics’ more controversial plot twists are concerned. (See: Nick Spencer’s run on Captain America: Steve Rogers.)

Cast-Iron MVP: Casting outside of the box has always been one of the MCU’s core strengths, with Oscar winners/nominees and character actors regularly popping up to play heroes and villains alike. That canny casting strategy pays off in spades in Endgame – especially when certain characters have relatively limited screen time but manage to make it count anyway. The undisputed stars of the movie, however, are the Avengers who started it all. Hemsworth continues to brilliantly dance along the knife-edge between comedy and pathos, while Ruffalo radiates charm and intelligence through ever-improving CGI as Banner and his not-so-mean, green alter ego: The Hulk. Johansson and Renner are given more to do in this film than ever before, and their combined efforts will shred your soul to pieces. Evans brings great warmth and strength to his stoic role, making it perfectly legitimate for you to weep and whoop for a man who’s – somewhat ridiculously – wrapped in an American flag. Above all, this double-whammy of Avengers films belongs, most fittingly, to Downey Jr. He still effortlessly injects Tony with snark and swagger, but also beautifully conveys every shade and layer of his character’s hard-won growth and maturity – giving us all the proof that we have never needed that Tony Stark has a heart.

Recommended? In every imaginable way. Endgame sets the bar as high as it can possibly go for superhero epics that balance enormous scale and jaw-dropping ambition with actual substance and genuine emotion. It’s the blockbuster movie event of our lifetimes, for very good reason – and it’s worth every minute you’ve invested in the MCU since 2008.

Captain Marvel (2019)

The Low-Down: It’s been a long, slightly ludicrous time in coming, but Marvel Studios’ first female-led superhero movie is finally blasting into cinemas. Unfortunately, Captain Marvel is trailing plenty of controversy in its wake, largely generated by the same toxic, sexist segments of ‘fandom’ who have been venting their rage online about ‘their’ franchises being taken over by women. (See: Ghostbusters, Star Wars etc.) It’s quite wonderful, then, that Captain Marvel is (literally and figuratively) the most powerful response to these haters yet – not only is it a ton of fun, this film is unapologetically, explicitly feminist in a way that’s never before been presented on screen in such a mainstream blockbuster.

The Story: We first meet Vers (Brie Larson) as a promising new cadet in Starforce, an elite military unit dedicated to protecting the Kree homeworld of Hala from the threat of Skrull invasion. For what she lacks in memories of her own life and story, she more than makes up for in wit, courage and pure power – an energy that her commander, Yon-Rogg (Jude Law), constantly counsels her to keep in check. When a Starforce mission goes wrong and she winds up on Earth, she starts putting together the puzzle pieces of her past as former Air Force fighter pilot Carol Danvers – and begins to reclaim what she has lost.

The Good: All told, Captain Marvel is an absolute blast to watch. Like its titular heroine, the film is fun, fearless and thoroughly feminist: celebrating Carol herself, as well as the women in her orbit who (she will soon discover) helped make her who she really is. The film’s genre-hopping – stacking psychological thriller on top of buddy comedy and spicing it all up with some space opera – doesn’t always work when taken as a whole. But each element of the film is delightful, especially when Carol meets and impresses Nick Fury (a CGI-de-aged Samuel L. Jackson, dialling the goofy charm up to 11) and they embark on a road trip that takes them all the way to the stars. It’s worth pointing out, too, that the film quite ingeniously deepens the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)’s mythology, both backwards and forwards in time, while giving us the miracle that is Goose, a cat Flerken who will steal your heart and also strike fear into your soul – the way all the best cats Flerkens do.

The Not-So-Good: The first act of Captain Marvel is its weakest – it’s almost as if the film, like its title character, hasn’t quite figured out what it is or wants to be. That can make for a mildly puzzling first viewing experience, compounded by a script that makes no allowances for those who can’t keep up with the murkier politics of Kree-Skrull warfare. Due to the deliberately fractured narrative structure (mirroring Carol’s identity crisis), even Marvel aficionados, who can readily tell their Krees from their Skrulls and Marvell from Marvel, might find it challenging to follow the plot at first.

O Captain, Our Captain! Kudos are due to Larson for making all the disparate elements of the film and her character work. For one thing, she makes kicking inter-galactic butt look easy and effortless. But it’s in finding Carol’s heart and soul that Larson truly shines – a particularly impressive feat since she’s essentially playing a character who barely knows who she really is. Somehow, somewhere, in the midst of Carol’s snarky comebacks and fierce smackdowns, Larson promises us a real human being – one we’re excited to get to know better as the MCU continues to grow.

Nevertheless, She Persisted: One of Captain Marvel’s purest delights is its unabashedly feminist heart. In the film’s most emotionally affecting sequence, we see Carol getting up – over and over again, through the ages, over decades, all her life – when she’s told (particularly by the men around her) to stay down, to smile, to please others, to live a life that is nothing like the one she deserves to make for herself. It’s an electrifying moment that will resonate with women and girls everywhere, whose lived experiences are of a world that has them constantly questioning their worth and value. Carol’s true triumph isn’t against hordes of shape-shifting aliens or an imminent inter-galactic attack – it’s against the insidious horrors of toxic masculinity and gaslighting. What makes it all work doubly well is that the film also proudly celebrates the women in Carol’s orbit, from Annette Bening’s brilliant maverick scientist, Dr. Wendy Lawson; to Lashana Lynch’s fiercely competent fighter pilot/single mom, Maria Rambeau.

Fan Fare: Marvel fans, of both the film and comic-book variety, will find themselves very well-served by Captain Marvel. MCU devotees will be rewarded with origin stories for fan-favourite characters – not just Nick Fury, but also Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg), both of whom are decades away from their destinies with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. The script is canny enough to use and subvert fan expectations gleaned from decades of comic lore – testing our sympathies most notably in the form of charismatic Skrull leader Talos (Ben Mendelsohn). And be warned: this might well be the first movie ever that has you tearing up even before the opening credits, with Marvel having re-designed its production logo in honour of the late, great Stan Lee and the words he wrote that changed the world.

Recommended? Yes! Captain Marvel pulls off the rather incredible feat of being properly entertaining and enlightening. A film that will reward multiple viewings, it’s an essential addition to the canon of superhero movies.

 

Spider-Man: Into The Spider Verse (2018)

The Low-Down: Does the world really need another Spider-Man movie? In just over 15 years, we’ve already had three different Peter Parkers, each one with the same basic origin story. It’s a reliable formula that’s been run into the ground… hasn’t it? And yet, Spider-Man: Into The Spider Verse will have you clamouring for more. This fresh, funny, fantastic film proves that there’s entire universes of mileage left in all things Spider-Man – introducing us to brand-new hero Miles Morales, while also dissecting (and reinforcing) our love for good ol’ Peter Parker.

The Story: Miles Morales (voiced by Shameik Moore) is a high-school kid just trying to figure out his purpose in life – which sharpens somewhat terrifyingly into focus when he’s bitten by a radioactive spider and finds himself literally climbing the walls. Suddenly, he’s forced to assume the mantle of Spider-Man, battling to save the world from the heartbroken insanity of Wilson Fisk (Liev Schreiber). It’s a tall order for a half African-American, half Puerto-Rican kid from Brooklyn but, fortunately, Miles soon discovers that he isn’t alone in the universe…

The Good: Where to even begin? Into The Spider Verse is a delight in practically every way. First and foremost, it’s remarkably refreshing to see a character like Miles – a young man of mixed-race descent – get his own superhero origin story. It helps enormously that the screenplay, credited to Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman, is equal parts sweet, sharp and snarky. Some superhero movies (*cough*DC*cough*) can take themselves too seriously, but Into The Spider Verse skewers Spider-Man’s cinematic history with a cheeky charm that’s impossible to resist. Miles also leads a cast of enormously appealing characters, including clever twists on fan favourites like Peter Parker (Jake Johnson), Aunt May (Lily Tomlin), Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld) and Doctor Octopus (REDACTED).

The Not-So-Good: There’s almost too much going on, all the time. Into The Spider Verse is stuffed to the brim with multiple characters, multiple universes and multiple plot-lines – so much so that the emotional weight of Miles’ fraught relationships with his dad (Brian Tyree Henry) and uncle (Mahershala Ali), which should tear audiences apart, comes close to getting lost amongst the shift and shuffle of the plot. It’s hardly a deal-breaker, though: the narrative beats are all there, ready to be savoured and rediscovered on a rewatch.

The Gloriously Geeky: Comic-book fans, rejoice – this one’s for you. There’s a soul-deep love for Spider-Man lore threaded through every gorgeous frame of this movie. Naturally, it’s right there in the plot, as alternate universes collide and truly cult characters tumble into Miles’ life. But it’s the medium of animation that makes the real difference here. It’s why Into The Spider Verse can embrace its comic-book roots in a way that live-action movies can’t. In some of the film’s most visually arresting sequences, Miles leaps and soars in and out of frame, trailing sound effects and narration in his wake. This living, breathing comic-book effect is the crowning achievement of Sony’s animation arm – not only is it fluid and stunning, it’s ridiculously inventive, mixing and matching animation styles to further plot and develop character.

Watch Out For: Easter eggs galore! Spider-Man and Marvel aficonados should keep their eyes peeled for references peppered throughout the film. The late Stan Lee’s cameo will break and warm your heart in equal measure. Meanwhile, Brian Michael Bendis and Sara Pichelli, who co-created Miles Morales, are name-checked, as are concepts and terms well-known to fans of the comics (Earth-616 and all). Stay through the credits for a series of of wonderful, silly rewards, including a song off Spider-Man’s novelty Christmas album and some intriguing scenes that hint at where this new animated franchise might go. (A sequel and spin-offs have already been greenlit! 🙌) ALSO, this film features possibly the best use of Nicolas Cage in a movie since National Treasure!*

Recommended? YES. Into The Spider Verse isn’t just the best Spider-Man movie that nobody asked for – it’s one of the best Spider-Man movies ever made, period. It’s also a top contender for best animated film of the year.

*Okay, fine, having Cage voice Superman in this year’s Teen Titans Go! To The Movies was genius too – a nod to his life-long goal to play Superman. Maybe Cage should stick to voiceover work… 🤔

 

Deadpool 2 (2018)

Remember when the very concept of making a Deadpool movie was a risk that no sane person or studio would dare to undertake? That was just over two years ago. Defying naysayers and sceptics, Deadpool became a cultural phenomenon: a seriously silly, smart, self-aware comedy that merrily skewered the entire superhero movie genre (sometimes literally), while repeatedly shattering box-office records and the fourth wall. If you enjoyed Deadpool’s irresistible blend of satire, violence and irreverence, Deadpool 2 will be right up your alley. It’s more (literally much more) of the same – in a (mostly) good way: this is blithely rude, clever filmmaking, funny and fresh enough that you’ll be willing to forgive the movie its shortcomings.

Ryan Reynolds returns as Wade Wilson a.k.a. Deadpool – a super-dude (not quite a hero, almost certainly not a villain) blessed and cursed with the inability to die. When we meet Wade again, he is trying – and mostly failing – to come to terms with how his work as a mercenary endangers those whom he loves, particularly his girlfriend, Vanessa (Morena Baccarin). The tragedy of Deadpool – both the character and this film –  is that his superpower can mend his body and his bones but, unfortunately, cannot put a broken heart back together again.

Not quite able to put himself out his misery, Wade keeps staggering through the land of the living. During a mission with some third-string X-Men, he encounters Russell (Julian Dennison), a troubled young man with a fiery temper. It’s a fateful meeting, for it sets Wade right in the path of Cable (Josh Brolin), a grim, grizzled bounty hunter who’s determined to take a life to change a future he cannot accept.

It may sound like a dismal experience, but it’s very much not. Deadpool 2 is easily one of the funniest, weirdest films you’ll see this year. Emboldened by the runaway success of its predecessor, this sequel dials up the wild, wacky humour to an almost overwhelming degree. Every frame of this film is crammed with jokes: from puns and pop-culture gags to sassy quips and meta references. This is story-telling by way of pastiche and spoof, which allows the film to flit from Celine Dion to ’80s cult classic Say Anything and back again. At one point, Deadpool even refers to Cable (grumpiness in half-man, half-machine form) as Thanos – a perfectly pointed nod to Brolin pulling double-duty as the huge-chinned purple antagonist in Marvel Studios’ Avengers: Infinity War.

The undeniable highlight of Deadpool 2 is Wade’s ill-advised attempt to stop Cable by creating X-Force, his own band of morally ambiguous super-powered individuals. Everything about this endeavour is hilarious: from selecting candidates like Terry Crews’ Bedlam and Rob Delaney’s schlubby Peter, to leaping into the great unknown with them on their very first mission. It allows for a brilliant sequence demonstrating how Domino (Zazie Beetz) gets by on her powers of extraordinary good luck, as well as a genius split-second cameo that works precisely because it’s so damn brief.

Not every joke lands, however – which is unsurprising considering how many are flung in the direction of audiences. There are several moments that are clearly meant to be hysterical but fall flat, which suggests that the script (credited to Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick and Reynolds) could have benefited from some judicious editing. An extended scene centred on Deadpool’s fairly gross regenerative abilities – let’s just say it involves a fresh pair of legs – goes on too long and belabours a joke that just barely works the first time around.  

With a couple of exceptions, the film doesn’t manage to do justice to the supporting characters in Wade’s orbit. Beetz’s Domino may swagger through scenes as a human blast of cool, breezy fun, but lacks anything resembling a backstory or personality. Russell also feels more like a walking plot point than an actual human person – that’s a huge shame, considering the depth of Dennison’s talent (cf. Taika Waititi’s Hunt For The Wilderpeople). Even Brolin’s Cable doesn’t get much in the way of characterisation until the final act.

It’s a really good thing, then, that the movie manages to stick its surprisingly emotional landing. At every step of the way, this raucous, knockabout comedy chooses the giddy over the grave, the satire over the drama, the caricature over the character. And yet, there’s a genuine emotional darkness at the heart of Deadpool 2. The film doesn’t shy away from examining the demons that haunt Wade and Cable, which lends real weight to their choices when sh*t finally gets real and sacrifices have to be made. (In a manner that will delight fans of this pairing in the comics, by the way!)

There’s a palpable joy, as well, to Reynolds’ performance that is delightful to watch. His own love of the character shines through – and no doubt helped during the film’s troubled pre-production process, when creative differences prompted original Deadpool director Tim Miller to leave. (He was replaced by David Leitch, aptly referred to in the credits as ‘One of The Guys Who Killed The Dog in John Wick’.) Reynolds is wonderfully adept at the Looney Tunes-style comedy that peppers Deadpool 2, somehow managing to emote even through a mask that completely covers his face. But he also sells Wade’s heartbreaking connection to Vanessa, one that he spends the entire film desperate to recover.  

At this point in the evolution of superhero movies, we’ve truly seen it all: from the gritty existentialism of The Dark Knight Rises to the soaring hope of Wonder Woman. Marvel Studios alone has produced a host of films in different genres: spy thrillers, political dramas, crime capers and more. But, in a day and age when special effects can accomplish the impossible, the Deadpool films still stand apart as something entirely different. There’s a giddy, unrestrained joy to them that recalls the wild, unchecked imagination of comic books – where anything can happen and nothing is off-limits. That Deadpool 2 manages to fold so much heart into its humour is icing on the cake.

Basically: So wildly funny and irreverent that you’ll forgive the film its flaws.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Over the past decade, Marvel has earned itself the benefit of the doubt. The studio has consistently delivered smart, funny, brave films that both embrace and transcend their comic-book origins. The 18 blockbuster movies produced since Iron Man first blasted off into the stratosphere in 2008 have not only reinvented superhero films as a genre – they’ve helped to legitimise it. Indeed, Marvel’s two most recent films – Thor: Ragnarok and Black Panther – have received the kind of accolades usually reserved for edgy arthouse flicks.

And yet, it’s perfectly reasonable to be apprehensive about Avengers: Infinity War. This is a blockbuster film that’s been ten years in the making, its plot hinted at and scattered throughout 18 other movies. It features 30 or so characters, each with their own complex backstories and motivations. And all of them are coming together in a bid to stop a giant purple alien dude from destroying the universe. It sounds ridiculous, and feels impossible.

But that’s precisely what makes the final product such a monumental achievement. Masterfully directed by Anthony and Joe Russo, Infinity War is bold, brainy filmmaking at its very best: the kind that will lift your spirits, blow your mind and shatter your soul – occasionally in the same scene. It demonstrates on an epic scale what Marvel has known all along: that special effects and tightly choreographed action are there to serve the story. For all its blockbuster spectacle (and there’s almost too much of that), the film is anchored by the heart, humour and humanity of its characters.

The film’s basic plot is simple: Thanos (played via motion-capture by Josh Brolin), intergalactic purveyor of death and destruction, has long been on the hunt for the six Infinity Stones that will give him complete control over the elemental building blocks of the universe. He dispatches his acolytes to Earth to retrieve the Time Stone, currently in the possession of Dr. Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), and carve the Mind Stone out of the forehead of Vision (Paul Bettany). It’s a literal existential threat so terrifying that all the heroes we’ve come to know and love – from the Avengers to the Guardians of the Galaxy – must put aside their differences and unite against a common foe.

From the outset, it’s immediately clear that neither the film’s directors nor screenwriters (Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely) are interested in playing it safe. Most other superhero films are bled of high stakes – the hero in the title might suffer untold trauma, but it’s a super-safe bet that he or she will make it to the end alive. There’s no such guarantee here. Within the first ten minutes, we are confronted with the dark, twisted depths to which Thanos and his acolytes in the Black Order will sink in order to achieve their goals. Death, as well as genuine loss and sacrifice, is intrinsic to the narrative drumbeat that drives Infinity War ever forward, and the film is all the better for it.

That’s not to say the movie is a morbid and depressing experience. What’s so impressive about Infinity War is how it expertly juggles its constantly shifting tones and moods. When it’s funny (and it very often is), it’s deeply, truly funny. The film finds maximum joy in flinging characters together with merry abandon, mixing and matching ones you’d never have expected to share scenes or trade banter. Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is floored by Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) godly muscles. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) is charmed by the wit and intelligence of Shuri (Letitia Wright). And it’d be impossible to not be utterly delighted by Peter Dinklage’s inspired cameo. It’s a blithely tongue-in-cheek sensibility shared by Marvel’s best comic books, which understand that humour can make you care when it really counts.

And, boy, does Infinity War make it count. There are many heartbreakingly human moments threaded throughout the film: from the charming surrogate father-son dynamic shared by Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr) and Peter Parker (Tom Holland), to the undeniable love that ties Vision and Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen) together. In many ways, the film stands as a testament to the human capacity not just to love, but to love fiercely and beyond all logic. It’s right there when the unfailingly noble Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) declares, “We don’t trade lives”, even when giving up one could save billions.

There’s even a chilling echo of it in Thanos himself. A lesser film would have turned Thanos into a one-dimensional villain, much the way he’s all monster and maniac in the comic books. In Infinity War, however, Thanos’ end goal is surprisingly relevant when it comes to thinking and talking about the staggeringly overpopulated world in which we live today. There is, as it turns out, method to Thanos’ madness. It makes the tragic twists and turns in his relationships with his estranged adopted daughters, Gamora (Zoe Saldana) and Nebula (Karen Gillan), all the more unsettling.

For the most part, Infinity War does justice, too, to the many heroes who have been assembled for the film. The Russo brothers displayed great skill at interweaving multiple perspectives and character trajectories in Captain America: Civil War, and they do so again here, with twice as many characters. Even the most minor of supporting players, like Don Cheadle’s James Rhodes/War Machine, are given story beats that land. It helps that Marvel has always taken care to cast genuinely good actors in roles that might otherwise come off as silly and slight.

Even so, there are a few standouts amongst this enormous and enormously talented cast. Emotionally speaking, this is Downey’s film. He plays every note of Tony’s reluctant courage and bone-deep trauma, as he embarks on what he’s convinced is a suicide mission. He’s ably matched by Cumberbatch, who finds vulnerability even in his character’s most cunning and calculative move. Hemsworth, meanwhile, is given free rein to import the big-hearted comedic swagger of Thor: Ragnarok into this film – while also layering it with a deeply-felt, jagged grief for the losses he has suffered at the hands of Thanos and the universe.

In a film with so many moving parts, some elements don’t work quite as well. A couple of characters that you might have expected to be right at the forefront – including an original Avenger or two – fade into the background. The film tumbles from dizzying fight scene to dizzying fight scene, and while most of them are fantastically choreographed, there are some purely dumb moments that literally revolve around attempts to prevent Thanos from clenching his fist. In effect, this is a superhero mêlée that’s part over-the-top and part overkill, and might prove too much for those who don’t already care for this franchise and the characters in it.

Minor quibbles aside, though, Infinity War is yet another step in the right direction for Marvel. It continues the studio’s tradition of placing a premium on rich, complex storytelling that respects both its characters and its audiences. But it also refuses to make things easy for itself. The film ends even more bravely than it began, with a final ten minutes that will haunt and horrify you in equal measure. It’s a stroke of bold, brilliant genius – a narrative risk so audacious that you’ll want to follow Marvel wherever it goes next.

Basically: This movie will blow your mind and break your heart – and make you desperate to go back for more. Brave, brilliant and better than it has any right to be.

 

Black Panther (2018)

Superhero movies never get a fair shake. There’s always been an invisible – but undeniable – whiff of critical disdain attached to films revolving around people with superhuman abilities. More often than not, these films are viewed (and assessed) as popcorn entertainment: good fun, but not objectively good. Even the best examples of the genre are rarely, if ever, taken seriously by critics or award shows. But all that is set to change with Black Panther – a bold, brilliant blockbuster teeming with ideas, characters and messages that will make your soul take flight. For once, it’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve never seen or experienced anything like this before.

The film gets off to a somewhat sedate start, as we’re re-introduced to T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), the freshly crowned King of Wakanda who is also infused with the ancestral powers of his nation’s panther god. Writer-director Ryan Coogler takes his time in introducing us to all the key players in the film’s first act, from the most important members of T’Challa’s royal court to the rites, rituals and rigidity of Wakanda itself.

It’s never boring, but Black Panther does linger in a minor key for a while. You might find yourself wondering just where the film is going, as T’Challa deals with a challenge to his authority from within Wakanda’s five tribes. It can be hard to imagine, too, just what the film wants to say when T’Challa – who could easily delegate the responsibility – takes it upon himself to personally hunt down dastardly arms dealer Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis) in order to retrieve a stolen artifact made of Wakanda’s most precious natural resource, vibranium.

But put your trust in Coogler – he’s certainly earned it with his masterful blending of tension, character and story in his previous two films, Fruitvale Station and Creed. As Black Panther unfolds, everything starts to make a whole lot of sense, in dramatic, emotional and narrative terms. Suddenly, we’re not just witnessing the growing pains of a new king. As it turns out, Black Panther is, for its titular character, an existential odyssey: as he fights for his nation’s survival, T’Challa must also grapple with the choices (and sins) of his ancestors, deciding whether to embrace or reject them.

Most significantly, Black Panther uses its blockbuster platform to examine complex issues such as racism and colonialism in thoughtful, intimate ways. The fiction of Wakanda – a hyper-evolved African nation that has kept its technological advances a secret from the rest of the world for centuries – allows Coogler to hold up a mirror to the facts of the world in which we live. In quite unprecedented fashion, we are presented with a host of proud, brave, indomitable African warriors who have lived their lives free of the horrors of slavery and institutionalised racism. Just as Wonder Woman gave little girls the world over a hero in their own image, Black Panther will do the same for generations of black children who have never before seen themselves represented on screen.

If that sounds impossibly weighty and grim, don’t worry. Coogler’s script, co-written with Joe Robert Cole, is far from preachy. There may be a hint or two of hand-wringing melodrama to T’Challa’s central dilemma – should Wakanda venture out into the world and lead by example? – but it’s cleverly off-set by the depths of darkness and despair written into T’Challa’s nemesis: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens (Michael B. Jordan). Shaped by the very different circumstances of their lives, one man turns towards the light, and the other away from it – and yet, neither man falls simply into the black-and-white categories of ‘hero’ or ‘villain’. Somehow, Coogler shades centuries of history and hope into the conflict at the heart of their troubled relationship.

Black Panther is no slouch, either, when it comes to turning up the heat in terms of action and spectacle. There’s a jaw-dropping car chase through the neon-washed streets of Busan that’s easily one of the most exhilarating scenes you’ll see all year. Fight scenes are pulled off with remarkable flair, particularly when it comes to the swift military precision of the Dora Milaje – an incredibly cool, all-female special forces unit devoted to the protection of Wakanda’s monarch. Wakanda itself is an eye-popping fantasy scape: a heady blend of futuristic elements and African traditons, colours and music.

Leading the film’s top-notch ensemble, Boseman is the film’s quiet backbone: an invaluable presence and the reason everything holds together at all. He shares an electric chemistry with Jordan, who blends swagger, menace and pathos in creating the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s most complex, nuanced and sympathetic antagonist to date.

Fantastic as the two leading men, however, they’re not the breakout stars of the film. That honour belongs to a trio of female characters – each one given depth, layers and a fierce, real on-screen presence that’s still rare enough that they shouldn’t be taken for granted. Lupita Nyong’o injects strength and steel into her portrayal of Nakia – a former and future love interest for T’Challa who manages to be interesting in her own right. The Walking Dead’s Danai Gurira is a force to be reckoned with as Okoye, the righteous leader of the Dora Milaje; while Letitia Wright’s Shuri – T’Challa’s younger sister who also happens to be Wakanda’s premier scientist – waltzes away with every scene in which she appears.

It may come as a surprise to some that Marvel’s latest superhero blockbuster tackles issues of race, representation and discrimination in so bold and unflinching a manner. And yet, fans of the comic books that have inspired Marvel’s entire slate of films would say: it’s about time. In the way it embraces its story and heritage, in the way its heroes are presented, and in the way its message will inspire and empower generations to come, Black Panther matters. And it cannot – and will not – be ignored.

Basically: This may be Marvel’s 18th film, but it feels like the studio is just getting started. Brave and brilliant, this superhero movie is like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

Justice League (2017)

What would you do if three out of four films in your blockbuster superhero franchise aren’t particularly good? When going forward with the fifth film (the all-important one that ties everything together and launches it into the stratosphere), do you stick with what you know? Or do you try to learn from the outpouring of love and acclaim that greeted Wonder Woman, the outlying fourth film? Do you add more humour and a dash of fun to the generally dark, dour proceedings? Do you refine your script to focus a little more on character and less on bombastic spectacle? In the case of Justice League, the answers – and corresponding results – are mixed. (Kinda, kinda, yes, kinda, by the way.)

Justice League opens in the wake of Superman’s (Cavill) death. The world – and his erstwhile frenemy Bruce Wayne/Batman (Affleck) – are in a dark depression. But cataclysmic sieges on a planetary scale wait for no man (or woman). Steppenwolf (played by Hinds via motion-capture), an ancient, alien evil that once tried to claim Earth as his own, has returned with an army of fear-fuelled parademons. Bruce realises that, without Superman as the first and best line of defense, he needs to assemble a team (a ‘justice league’, as it were) to save the world.

Consequently, the first half of the film is rather exposition-heavy, as it busily sets up its characters, relationships and stakes. Bruce reunites with Diana Prince/Wonder Woman (Gadot), just as she’s begun to step out from beneath the shadow of grief. We also get to know the other potential League members that we’ve only glimpsed in passing – snarky speedster Barry Allen/Flash (Miller); sassy fish-whisperer Arthur Curry/Aquaman (Momoa); and surly human machine Victor Stone/Cyborg (Fisher).

Thankfully, Justice League isn’t as relentlessly dark and joy-free as director Zack Snyder’s previous entries in the DCEU. While there’s nothing wrong with going full grim when putting superheroes on screen (Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy proved that you could do so with depth, flair and intelligence to burn), Snyder’s Man Of Steel and Batman V. Superman were curiously bleak pictures. Stuffed with bombastic spectacle and testosterone-charged face-offs, both films were more or less dreadful, displaying a fundamental misunderstanding of their main characters. (Cavill’s broody Superman, in particular, is a painfully misguided interpretation of DC Comics’ most iconic superhero, a literal and figurative beacon of light.)

In contrast, there’s a brighter vein of hope and humour threaded throughout Justice League, though it’s unclear just how much of that can be credited directly to Snyder. The main reason for that is the involvement of Joss Whedon, who wrote and directed Marvel’s two enormously successful and largely acclaimed Avengers films. Initially brought on to doctor the script, Whedon wound up overseeing post-production on the film (including significant reshoots), after Snyder chose to take some time off for very sad personal reasons.

Without question, the final film benefits from the injection of Whedon’s signature banter and his ability to effectively juggle multiple character narratives. Whether it’s Barry and Victor bonding in a graveyard or Arthur’s big speech before the final battle, Whedon contributes some of the most purely fun – and funny – moments in the DCEU to date.

Characters and relationships, though more sketched than fleshed out, work well enough. As the film progresses, each member of the fledgling League works out who they want to be, as people and as the earth’s self-appointed defenders. The newcomers are all decent, though not quite the breakout successes the studio is no doubt hoping for. Miller’s Flash starts out adorable but ends up annoying. Momoa is underserved by the script, but nails the swagger. With just half his face to work with, Fisher amps up the angst while buried beneath some oddly ugly character design.

As for DC’s Big Three, it can be tough to buy into Diana’s decades-long descent into grief following the character-defining climax of Wonder Woman. But, given that her arc is necessarily dictated by earlier narrative decisions, Gadot finds some lovely emotional beats to play as Diana chooses to lead and share her light with the world. The film also nudges the hitherto badly-botched relationship between the late Superman and Lois Lane (Amy Adams, still criminally underused) in a better direction.

The biggest surprise of Justice League is how Affleck’s Batman – almost rabidly xenophobic in Batman V. Superman – grounds both the film and the team. There’s something hauntingly poetic about watching this taciturn loner, who could so easily hide himself away in a fortress of wealth and power, trying to atone for the world’s loss of Superman. Embracing the fact that he’s by far the most mortal member of the League, the film finds the heroism in Batman’s humanity.

For all that it gets right, though, Justice League suffers for being what it largely still is: a Snyder blockbuster. He tends to favour overblown spectacle and one-dimensional villains, both of which culminate in the peculiarly unmenacing Steppenwolf – a CGI-drenched creation that manages to be hammy and fake all at once. The plot is, somehow, stupidly convoluted and insultingly simple at the same time. (‘Mother Boxes’ must be another way of spelling ‘MacGuffin’.) And, while absolutely everything about this film is better than what Snyder has produced before, it still never quite grabs the heart.

Nonetheless, Justice League is a step in the right direction. It doesn’t reach the glorious heights of Wonder Woman, but it doesn’t regress to the murky depths of Batman V. Superman either. With its story and characters turned firmly towards the light, there might be hope for this franchise yet.

Basically: It’s far from great, and not always very good, but at least it steers clear of awful.

 

 

Thor: Ragnarok (2017)

In some alternate reality, a movie bearing the title of Thor: Ragnarok has taken itself very seriously indeed: full of literal doom and gloom, it’s an apocalyptic drama about the End of Days, as prophesied by Norse mythology. Since that pretty much describes the world in which we currently live, it’s actually rather fitting that Marvel’s 17th studio film is something else entirely. In our reality, Thor: Ragnarok is a wild, wacky and very welcome blast of pure joy – a raucous comedy that fuses an intergalactic road trip with buddy comedy, brotherly rivalry and battle domes. Thank Thor (and director Taika Waititi) for that!

We reunite with Thor (Chris Hemsworth) – still free of new Infinity Stones, freshly confident that he’s once again warded off the fabled Ragnarok – just as he discovers that something is rotten in the state of Asgard. As teased at the end of Thor: The Dark World, Loki (Tom Hiddleston), his shape-shifting trickster brother, has been impersonating their ailing dad, Odin (Anthony Hopkins). When Odin’s strength finally fails, the dark secret he’s been keeping at bay storms into the lives of his sons: Hela (Cate Blanchett), their bloodthirsty older sister, is back to claim the throne she believes is rightfully hers.

For (largely) better or (occasionally) worse, Thor: Ragnarok doesn’t dwell as much on the royal family drama as its predecessors did. Instead, its second act plays out on the candy-coated, death-dealing planet of Sakaar. Ruled by the whims and fancies of the Grandmaster (Jeff Goldblum, dialled to 11), Sakaar’s people are relentlessly entertained in their very own battle dome. (Think the gladiatorial contests of ancient Rome, with holographic screens and super-powered alien beings.) Following an initial devastating confrontation with Hela, Thor is stranded on Sakaar, and brought in by the mercenary Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) to stand against the raging primal force of the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) – not quite the “friend from work” Thor remembers.

If that all sounds like serious business, rest assured it’s very much not. There’s a gentle wit threaded through every frame of this film – a glorious, big-hearted (and largely improvised) silliness that fans of Taika Waititi will remember (and treasure) from such indie comedy gems as What We Did In The Shadows and Hunt For The Wilderpeople. Miraculously, Waititi has managed to infuse this gargantuan, green-screened epic with his trademark offbeat vibe, best exemplified in the way key plot points are revealed (via sardonic monologue or ironic stage play) and the character he plays (Korg, a chirpy rock monster who befriends Thor before our hero heads into the arena).

Waititi’s involvement is a blessing for pretty much everyone involved in the film, but especially for Hemsworth. It’s not that he hasn’t been good in his previous appearances as the God of Thunder throughout the franchise – he was suavely charming in Thor and resolutely grim in The Dark World. But he’s so remarkably good here, switching effortlessly between bright-eyed puppy and care-worn leader, that it feels like he’s finally come home. Hemsworth’s performance in this film is a fantastic balance of sunshine, silliness and subversiveness, and it’s a joy to behold.

It’s clear, too, that everyone in the cast – including respected veterans like Hopkins and Blanchett – were delighted to partake in the film’s mirth and mayhem. Ruffalo continues to play the dual aspects of Bruce Banner – looming brute and mild-mannered professor – with so much winning charm that you want him to get his own Hulk movie, stat. Hiddleston is totally game for playing up the odd-couple comedy of Loki’s rivalry with Thor, while shading unexpected complexity into his character’s machinations. Thompson swaggers off with practically every scene she’s in, finding the heart, humour and heroism in an Asgardian warrior who’s lost her way.

Perhaps more impressively, Waititi handles every Marvel blockbuster’s requisite action scenes with more clarity and flair than you’d expect from an indie director. He manages to find character and comedy beats even in swooping spaceship chases and bruising hand-to-hand combat. There’s a thrilling fluidity to the action sequences – whether it’s Thor soaring towards his enemies like lightning made flesh, or Hela unleashing her multiple projectiles of death with a dark, graceful beauty.

That’s not to say Thor: Ragnarok is perfect. As it turns out, the film’s greatest strength – apocalypse as afterthought – is also its biggest flaw. Waititi just about manages to find the emotional weight in Thor coming to terms with his power and leadership (a driving theme for this character), but it does get a little lost in all the knockabout comedy. Thanks to Blanchett, Hela is never less than terrifying: she oozes gleeful malevolence in her wake, forcing Thor to confront his own gold-tinted ideas of himself, his family and his history. Alas, she’s also one of that peculiar breed of antagonist who’s immeasurably powerful and strangely ineffective, all at the same time.

For years, Marvel has been making brave choices in terms of the directors to whom it has entrusted its stories and characters. This strategy has yielded films that are, for the most part, creatively diverse, ranging in quality from decent to excellent. Even so, handing the reins of the Thor franchise to a director with such a unique voice as Waititi might have been its biggest gamble yet. Fortunately, it pays off in spades. Smart, silly and self-aware, Thor: Ragnarok is a blockbuster that feels like it snuck into cinemas by way of the arthouse. It’s also that rare threequel which isn’t just as good as its predecessors – it’s easily the best of the lot.

Basically: Get ready to Ragnarok & Roll – this film is the most fun you’ll have in a cinema all year!