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.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

There’s no denying that Marvel Studios is – by most industry standards – almost ridiculously brave. Its president, Kevin Feige, has given the green light to any number of projects, decisions and personnel that would make most studio executives faint from horror. He resurrected Robert Downey Jr.’s career (it’s hard to remember, sometimes, that recovering alcoholic Downey was down and almost completely out when he became Iron Man), and trusted out-of-left-field directors like Jon Favreau, Joss Whedon and Kenneth Branagh to helm his studio’s riskiest and most expensive projects. And here comes Captain America: The Winter Soldier – one of the bravest decisions of them all, if not an entirely successful one.

After fending off the Chitauri invasion of New York, Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) again tries to settle down to life in a country – and century – he no longer knows. The young man with the old-school values starts working for Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) in S.H.I.E.L.D., an agency meant to protect ordinary people from external threats, but finds himself asking a lot of worrying questions about the way things are being done. “You’re holding a gun to everyone on Earth,” he frets manfully at Fury, “and calling it protection.”

When it becomes clear that the methods and machines of S.H.I.E.L.D. have been badly compromised, Steve teams up with the two people he’s decided he can trust – results-oriented Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) a.k.a. Black Widow and war vet Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) a.k.a. The Falcon – to get to the bottom of a nefarious conspiracy that threatens to destroy Earth as he has come to know it. Oh, and he’s also being chased by another genetically-engineered super-soldier: the titular Winter Soldier, who might possess a secret or two of his own.

There’s an enormous amount to love about Captain America: The Winter Soldier. It is, truthfully, the boldest entry in Marvel’s canon yet, and not simply because it dares to bring superheroes into the gritty, twisty world of spy thrillers. That, by the way, is a great touch, particularly in a really quite spectacular car chase through the streets of Washington D.C., one that culminates in a literally heart-stopping encounter in Steve’s shadow-lit apartment.

What the film really dares to do is shake up the mythos of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe to date. Across several films now, Nick Fury has emerged as the sardonic but unquestionable defender of what’s good in the world. It’s somehow fitting that the most red-blue-and-white of superheroes should be the one who uncovers all the shades of grey. It’s a storyline that upsets the comfortable narrative of S.H.I.E.L.D. and its enforcers to date – including Cobie Smulders as Maria Hill, making a welcome return to the franchise – but also disrupts the way ahead (including, intriguingly enough, for Marvel’s companion television series, Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D.).

Directors Anthony and Joe Russo – best known for their work on cult TV sitcom Community – demonstrate a great flair for character development. This is a talky and occasionally silly picture, its plot getting more outlandish as it unravels, but the Russos make up for the occasional deficits in logic with a lot of heart and depth. Steve’s attempts to battle his survivor guilt allow him to connect with both Natasha and Sam, and there are some quietly effective moments when it becomes evident how much Natasha has come to care for Fury. Steve also gets the chance to re-connect with a couple of familiar faces from his long-buried past, which allows him to come somewhat painfully to terms with his strange, new-found life.

The film fares less well in terms of its unwieldy script, which marshals its unlikely elements together quite effectively but is – at the end of the day – formulaic and a tough sell. The big conspiracy lying at the broken heart of S.H.I.E.L.D. manages to be both predictable and ridiculous. It’s a narrative twist that feels a few decades too old, like Captain Rogers himself: a relic of a certain type of Cold War thriller on which this film is clearly modelled (think All The President’s Men), rather than an idea that better captures the nebulous shifts of the world’s current political climate.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier also frequently begs the question – more so than Iron Man 3 and Thor: The Dark World did – ‘Where the heck are the rest of the Avengers?’ It beggars belief that only Steve and Natasha are reacting to the events of this film, which are catastrophic and earth-shaking enough to suggest that their old team-mates should really have popped in at some point. Surely Tony Stark would have something to say about the use of his doomsday technology in any scenario, much less this one!

The cast goes a long way towards making up for the hokier parts of the script. On paper, Steve is a rather one-note good guy, fighting for old-fashioned ideals in an unrecognisably debauched world. But Evans gives him heart and creates a huge amount of sympathy for the shield-wielding Captain America, particularly in a surprisingly emotional last-act confrontation with the Winter Soldier. This film also gives both Johansson and Jackson more to do than in any other Marvel movie to date, and they’re both so electrifying that you’ll continue to wonder why they haven’t yet received their own flagship movies.

The decision to cast Robert Redford – still hopelessly debonair at 77 years of age – as Alexander Pierce, Fury’s commanding officer and confidant, is a canny one. It’s a nice callback to the 1970s thrillers that made Redford’s name and no doubt inspired the grit and feel of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Redford delights in the role, and helps make it appear more complex than it really is.

When it comes down to it, Captain America: The Winter Soldier can leave a little something to be desired when taken on its own merits. Frequently, its grand ambitions outstrip the logic and power of its script. As an extension of what has become the world’s biggest franchise of blockbuster films, however, it’s an unmitigated success. It’s brainy, dark, and boldly rips apart the entire underlying narrative of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In that sense, at least, there’s no doubt that this is one of the finest blockbusters you’ll see this year.

Basically: A fine, bold entry in the Marvel canon, if not an entirely successful one.

The LEGO Movie (2014)

These days, too many movies are made with one eye on their merchandising potential. Tie-ins and merch – toys/books/Happy McMeals – are planned with as much gravity and focus as, well, the actual plot of a film. That’s why The LEGO Movie should invite the greatest scepticism: it’s a movie literally built out of LEGO, every kid’s favourite infinitely-connectable toy bricks. It’s a franchise masquerading as a film, and should be derided as such… right? Well, not quite. As it turns out, The LEGO Movie has fast become one of the best-reviewed films of the year – and for very good reason. Smart, inventive and truly hilarious, it’s proof that a purely commercial enterprise can still earn genuine, heartfelt delight from audiences.

Emmet (voiced by Chris Pratt) is a perfectly ordinary LEGO figure – the kind of dude who tries really hard to fit in (ha!) and follows the instruction manual to the letter. He has no idea, of course, that the tyrannical Lord Business (Will Ferrell) has cooked up a nefarious scheme to bring permanent order to the LEGO universe, and that Master Builders across the galaxies are banding together in wait for the foretold Special: the Master Builder who will save them all. When Emmet accidentally bumps into spunky Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks), he picks up the mythical Piece Of Resistance: the fabled relic that will stop Lord Business in his tracks.

Cue hijinks galore as Emmet is mistaken for the Special and swiftly swept up in an underground movement spearheaded by Vitruvius (Morgan Freeman), a wise, elderly Master Builder with a (stereo)typically sonorous voice. Emmet must find a way to save the world – something he’s not sure he’s qualified to do, especially when he’s in the company of such diverse superheroes as Batman (Will Arnett), Superman (Channing Tatum), Abraham Lincoln (Will Forte), Wonder Woman (Cobie Smulders) and… uh, sparkling, rainbow-bright Unikitty (Alison Brie).

The chipper, joyful tone adopted by The LEGO Movie is what makes it such an utter delight to watch. Not only does the film trundle through one huge, action-packed set-piece after another (all gloriously executed in a combination of CGI and stop-motion animation), it’s also shot through with a streak of cheerful, anarchic humour. Jokes fly thick and fast across the screen, packed so tightly together that if any one fails, there are about five more turning up in quick succession. It’s hard to begrudge the film anything when its version of Batman is moody, broody, and willing to deal only in sombre-coloured bricks. This cheeky blend of irreverence and humour means that adults will find themselves every bit as entertained as the kids in the audience.

It’s even more remarkable when the plot unfolds to display in full its surprisingly meta-rich complexity. Turns out that the toy franchise’s many LEGO lines – each with its own story and characters – gets to play a part as Emmet and Wyldstyle go hunting for an answer to the world’s dilemma. Even more impressively, the world of LEGO is effectively deconstructed in the film’s third act and placed firmly in the hands of anyone who’s ever tried to make something out of these little toy bricks – from carefree kids to obsessed adults. It plays on precisely what makes the brand so appealing: the seemingly endless potential wrapped up in these LEGO worlds, limited only by one’s imagination.

The character work in the film is sublime, augmented by a wonderful cast of voice actors. Emmet – an everyman brimming with cheer and promise – suits Pratt to a T, and Banks struts her stuff as the independent, kickass Wyldstyle. Arnett is a highlight, his trademark deep voice played up to hilarious effect in Batman mode. The cast even includes sly winks to movie franchises (reuniting 21 Jump Street‘s Tatum with his co-star Jonah Hill, who voices Superman’s super-fan, Green Lantern) and the clever-old-codger trope (Freeman is clearly having a blast as the slightly bonkers Vitruvius), while providing Liam Neeson with more acting range than he’s had in a while as Lord Business’ henchman, a cop with a personality split between good and bad.

Not every element of The LEGO Movie works perfectly – in the tumult of surreal comedy and surprisingly emotional plot, not all the bits fit together quite as perfectly as they should. It’s a mite predictable, for instance, that Emmet and Wyldstyle inevitably fall in love despite her ongoing relationship with the self-absorbed Batman. But it’s impossible to get too upset about it when the final result is packed with so much silly, cheerful fun. In the words of the film’s upbeat theme tune, “Everything is AWESOME!” And so it is – for the most part.

Basically: Bring on the inevitable (and already-announced) sequel!

Delivery Man (2013)

Delivery Man doesn’t inspire a whole lot of confidence – everything about its publicity campaign suggests that this is yet another frat-boy comedy built around Vince Vaughn’s arrested-development screen persona. This time, he isn’t crashing a wedding or getting an internship at Google: he’s fathering 533 kids! It sounds terrible, but actually isn’t – at least in its first half, which is an interesting, emotionally powerful look at the notions of fatherhood and responsibility. It’s actually a shame that the film stumbles as determinedly as it does into its uncomfortably cheerful ending.

Chronic underachiever David (Vaughn) can barely keep his life together: he’s hugely in debt, he constantly disappoints his family, and his on-off girlfriend Emma (Cobie Smulders) has decided that he’s not fit to be the father of their unborn child. Life only gets more complicated when he discovers that – thanks to his earlier incarnation as prolific sperm donor Starbuck – he’s the biological father of 533 children, 142 of whom are trying to find out who he is by contesting the confidential agreements he signed with the fertility clinic many years ago.

Writer-director Ken Scott’s film – a remake of his own Canadian film-festival hit Starbuck – has a lot going for it: David is written and played as an appealingly hopeless, oddly sweet failure of a man, one who tries so hard, with such good intentions, that you want to forgive him the worst of his many transgressions. This characteristic is precisely why the first half of the film works so well. David’s tentative attempts to find out more about his offspring yield moments both funny and emotional, whether he’s trying to help out one son by taking a disastrous shift as a barista, or struggling to find the right things to say to a bedridden young man (Sébastien René, who’s so heartbreakingly good that he’s the only actor to be in both versions of Scott’s film).

But the film stutters and suffers as it goes on. It all gets snowed under by ever thicker layers of sentiment (at one point, David tells the Starbuck kids that, whatever the outcome of the legal appeal, hey, at least they’ve found brothers and sisters in one another!). Frustratingly, too, David’s relationship with Emma keeps falling by the wayside. By the time it’s picked up again at the end, they deal with David’s extreme fatherhood in only the most perfunctory and unsatisfying of ways.

For all its second-act troubles, Delivery Man is at least memorable for giving Vaughn a little more to do than he usually does in his paint-by-numbers comedies. He works particularly well with Chris Pratt, who plays David’s cynical, struggling lawyer/best friend Brett. Unfortunately, Vaughn gives an unexpectedly likeable performance in a film that’s desperately uneven. Its story is interesting and the execution initially promising, but Delivery Man stumbles too quickly and earnestly towards an ending that’s too convenient to match its protagonist’s truly complicated predicament.

Basically: Has its good moments but ultimately fails to deliver.