Deadpool: Trying Harder Than You Have To While Still Holding Back

While watching Deadpool last night, I kept thinking back to Guardians of the Galaxy from two years ago.

Guardians has what is, if you think about it, an absolutely bizarre opening sequence. The bulk of the movie presents itself as a lightweight chase-the-maguffin space opera lark, but the first five minutes are all about the day our hero Peter Quill’s mother finally died of cancer. In front of him. While he was a child. It feels like it’s from a completely different movie; the playful energy still to come is completely absent, and the movie gets started on a note of pure pain, misery, and regret. Even when the sci-fi elements kick in at the end of the sequence, it isn’t fun, it’s goddamn terrifying.

It’s an incredibly ballsy way to open the movie. If the story hadn’t worked, if it had just wound up being a jarring mishmash of disposable characters and tropes, armchair movie types like me would have jumped all over that opening as a part of the reason why. It sets the wrong tone! It’s completely schizophrenic!

But the movie did work. And the opening establishes a core of genuine, heartfelt depth and sadness that’s present in the background even when we’re reveling in the antics of an ammosexual raccoon and his best friend a tree. And when when implicit question of “Why the hell does Quill keep insisting everybody refer to him as ‘Starlord?'” finally gets addressed at the end, that opening ensures the answer lands with a whallop.

So when I say “Deadpool is good, but mostly afraid to take any chances,” that’s what I’m talking about.

Because honestly, the movie is pretty goddamn good. MovieBob, as usual, has a strong take on a lot of the details why. It leans into its R rating with absolute glee, wallowing in sex jokes and fuckwords, and showing off a splatstick sense of humor reminiscent of Sam Raimi at his Evil Deadiest. Young-teen me would have likely laughed hard enough to pass out; adult me just thought it was a damned good time, and was glad to see plenty of fun moments that didn’t show up in the trailers.

One of my big fears was that the movie would wind up being insufferably glib and weightless, and it took jusssssst enough risks to avoid that. There are moments — isolated, but most definitely present — of genuine emotional pain and vulnerability. There’s nothing to compare with young Peter Quill balking at his dying mother’s request for a hug; Deadpool’s not gonna go that far out on a limb. But a lot of the scenes with pre-superpowered goon-for-hire Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) and his girlfriend Vanessa (Morena Baccarin), particularly after he’s diagnosed with terminal late-stage cancer, leave the tongue-in-cheek fourth-wall-shattering shenanigans behind and feel like something real people might actually be enduring.

And I’m with MovieBob in that this may be the most fun Morena Baccarin has ever been on-screen before. In what could have been a completely thankless role (the cheeky-as-fuck opening credits list her as “The Hot Chick”), the screenwriters instead decide to make Vanessa Wade Wilson’s equal in off-kilter horndog energy. Baccarin throws herself into the role, and even if the script can’t quite sustain that liveliness wire-to-wire, there’s still a hell of a lot to enjoy. This is not one of those love stories where two people are into each other because they’re both blandly attractive and the script keeps reminding us they’re in lurrrrrrve. Wade and Vanessa just plain make sense.

But going too far down that path of genuine human emotion might have gotten in the way of the Merc-With-A-Mouth zaniness fanboys have been anticipating for years. More importantly, nobody behind the camera wanted to fuck this up. Again. (As alpha-fanboy Ryan Reynolds himself reminds us in the advertising, the last time this studio took a crack at this character, they botched it so badly they actually sewed his fucking mouth shut.) So mixed alongside the genuinely moving emotional core provided by Baccarin and Reynolds, we get a lot of … safe shit. Safe, unremarkable villains. Safe, unimaginative fight backdrops.

Safest of all, we have Colossus taking the role of Traditional Lantern-Jawed Hero. For my money, this was easily the weakest element, an unwelcome glimpse into the much crappier movie that could have been made but, thankfully, wasn’t. Colossus was there to act as a straight man. It’s an important role with a character as goofy as Deadpool bouncing about, but being a good straight man means having some dignity and a valid viewpoint, and these are not things the story is interesting in providing the big metal Russian. He’s just there to wind up with a variety of pies on his face, and their comic value is badly undercut by how he seems to be wearing a sign around his neck that says “THROW PIES HERE PLEASE” at all times. (More gratifying was Negasonic Teenage Warhead [Brianna Hildebrand], a D-list X-Man who comes out of freaking nowhere to provide Deadpool with a genuinely amusing foil. More of her in the already green-lit sequel, please.)

So on the balance, Deadpool’s not as good as it could have been, it’s not as subversive as it likes to pretend. Underneath it all, this is a bog-standard superhero origin story, just one with more decapitations, bewbs, and dirty jokes than audiences have been trained to expect in a Marvel movie over the last decade. But it has just enough heart to keep from floating away under its own weightlessness, and just enough genuine wit under its bratty attitude to be really funny.

I had a good time, and I wanna see where they go from here. Recommended for fans of the genre curious to see a rauchier, more irreverent take on the material. Just don’t bring the kids.

And stick around for the post-credits stinger. Of course.

Ant-Man: Questions

I have some questions that I hope the makers of Ant-Man will answer someday.

Why does Scott Lang have to be a Thief With A Heart Of Gold? Why can’t he be a Thief With A Heart Of Thief? I mean, that’s pretty much what he was in the original script, right? Wouldn’t it have been more interesting if he’d been really kind of a jerk at the beginning of the movie, but who grows as a person as he assumes the Ant-Man mantle? Wouldn’t that be a pretty nice character arc, a crook going not just straight but heroic? When he’s busting into Hank Pym’s safe, he’s pretty obviously a guy who’s good at robbing places. That whole sequence really contradicts the stuff about him just being an electrical engineer who went to jail because he went all Robin-Hood on a sleazy employer. But you left it in, presumably because it was interesting and showed the character as resourceful and smart even without any superpowers; wasn’t that a pretty clear sign that maybe you shouldn’t have nerfed the aspects of his character that allowed that scene to exist in the first place?

Why was Scott only resourceful and smart when he doesn’t have superpowers? Why does he mostly punch people and blow shit up when he’s Ant-Man? Wouldn’t it have made for much more interesting action sequences if he applied the same ingenuity to being Ant-Man that he did to breaking into Hank Pym’s safe? Having him throw toy trains at Yellowjacket was funny, but he must have known that was going to be stupid and useless, right? Why wasn’t he trying to do stuff that might have worked?

Why was the movie about Scott? Hank and Hope Pym were the ones with the most history and built-in conflict; why couldn’t the story have been about them? Why did Hank give Hope the Mk II Wasp suit in the stinger and not at the beginning of act 3? Wouldn’t it have been an awesome twist if Scott went from being her replacement to being her backup? Wouldn’t that have been deeply satisfying to both the characters and the audience alike? Wouldn’t that have shown Hank truly growing as a character and giving real weight to his reconciliation with his daughter? Were you afraid of making Ant-Man a supporting character in his own movie? Sure, that’s risky, but it keeps working out okay for Max Rockatansky, don’t it?


Why couldn’t Hank become Ant-Man again? I mean, yeah, he mentioned something about having used the suit too many times, but so what? Was he really so close to the edge of mental collapse that using the suit even one more time would have destroyed him? If he was, why wasn’t that shown somehow? If he was concerned about doing more long-term damage to himself, wouldn’t it have been more in character for him to suck it up and die a hero rather than recruit some shmuck and use that shmuck’s paternal instincts to manipulate him into what Hank thought of as a suicide mission? That’s not very heroic at all; actually, don’t that sound more like what a superhero movie villain would do? If you wanted to show that the years of adventuring as Ant-Man had left Hank so wrecked that he could no longer realistically return to that role, why not just stick him in a wheelchair? Actors love pretending to be disabled. The get Oscars and stuff for it all the time.

Why did the movie mention that shrinking makes you crazy? Was that some sort of plot point that got written out? It sure sounded like it when Hank mentioned how shrinking without the special Ant-Man helmet would totally make you crazy and stuff; why didn’t that ever come back? When Hope was telling … fuck it, I don’t care enough to look up his name, Bad Guy Man “This isn’t you, it’s the suit,” was that meant to be some kind of reference to shrinking without the helmet making him crazy? Even though the movie made it super-duper clear that he’d never shrunk before? Wasn’t that his whole motivation, figuring out how to shrink people without killing them? Meaning he was crazy and murderous way before the shrinking could have crazified him? Why leave that in there if it wasn’t gonna go nowhere?

Why didn’t Bad Guy Man use that shrink-splat weapon more? That thing was pretty fuckin’ brutal, and provided the one and only moment in the movie where I was all “Whoa, Bad Guy Man’s totally not fucking around here!” Seriously, there was no defense against that thing, and it turned people into a little snot splotch; why did he not build that into the Yellowjacket suit? Why was he so content to use those stupid-ass lasers that can’t hit nothing? Was a Yellowjacket suit with really GOOD weapons gonna be like a Mk II upgrade that cost more?

Why did Bad Guy Man go after Scott’s daughter? It was pretty obvious Hank was behind the whole thing. Wasn’t it obvious Scott was just some asshole Hank found so he didn’t have to send his daughter on a suicide mission? Doesn’t that make it pretty obvious that maybe you oughta be going after HANK’S daughter instead? Sure, you’re banging her, but you’re Bad Guy Man; shouldn’t stuff like basic human decency totally not figure into your plans? It hasn’t so far, has it? Or maybe you could even go after, you know, Hank? Assuming you’re not a total worthless chicken-shit who has no fucking business being the main antagonist for a big-budget superhero movie?

Why is the Quantum Realm just a bunch of stupid kaleidoscope effects? If you’re gonna build the place up as the ominous crazyland where the laws of physics are totally fucked, shouldn’t you just scrap the idea if the best you can come up with is a bunch of generic ’60’s I’m-totally-tripping-balls bullshit? If all you need to rescue yourself from that place is to jury rig repairs to one piece of equipment, doesn’t that mean all you need to do is bring some replacement parts with you and you’re totally fine? Doesn’t that make Hank kind of a dumb-fuck for not figuring that out?

What was that stupid thing Scott had to steal from SHIELD? If you wanted Scott to get into a fight with somebody from another movie who the audience already cares about, was sending him on a fetch quest for some pointless Maguffin the best way to go about it? Is this really the best the writers could come up with? Don’t Marvel Studios have like a dozen movies behind them with way, way better writing than this? Weren’t any of those writers available to help? Or were they all like too busy snorting script writer coke or something?

And should I quit writing this shit before I let myself sound any more like Mike Stoklasa in my own head?

Well, It Wasn’t Cars 2: A Brief Review of Ant-Man

The more I think about Ant-Man, the less I like it. I saw Ant-Man on Friday. This is not going to be a terribly positive review.

It’s intermittently entertaining, with all the production values you’d expect from a Marvel movie. It has its moments, and if you’ve seen the trailers, you’ve seen most of them. Marvel’s string of movies that are at least all right remains unbroken; this did not give me flashbacks to Cars 2 bringing Pixar crashing back to earth.

But a tepid “Eh, that wasn’t awful” is about the most I can muster for it. If I hadn’t invested so much energy in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, going to see Fury Road for the fourth time definitely have been a better choice.

Paul Rudd plays Scott Lang, a … thief? He’s a thief. Except the script claims he isn’t really a thief, he was a whistleblower who got caught taking matters into his own hands when he learned the company he worked for as an electrical engineer was doing some deeply dodgy stuff. Except he totally has the skillset of a veteran cat burglar … sometimes. When has has nothing to work with but a duffle bag and somebody’s kitchen, he’s extremely creative. When he has godlike shrinking powers and an army of ants he can control with his mind, he tends to punch people and blow shit up.

You get used to shit like that in this movie; the schism between Marvel Studios and the movie’s original director Edgar Wright cripples the script, which is riddled with half-baked ideas and fleeting signs of a much livelier story. When Scott’s ex-cellmate and his petty crook buddies are on screen, the movie becomes clever, energetic, inventive. When Scott’s self-appointed mentor Hank Pym (the original Ant-Man) and his estranged daughter Hope take the spotlight, the movie becomes dull and inert. Particularly during the “Let’s Train Scott To Become The New Ant-Man” sequences.

Scott spends roughly half the movie training to become the new Ant-Man.

Oh, yeah, and he gets into a fight with Falcon, in what may be the most perfunctory action sequence to yet befoul the MCU movies. No, I’m not forgetting Iron Man 2.

Is this the worst of the MCU movies? I didn’t think so when I was leaving the theater. But now that I’ve had time to chew on it…. It isn’t a lumbering clusterfuck like Iron Man 2. But Iron Man 2 had some good action scenes, Robert Downy Jr’s considerable charisma, and a very underrated villain in Ivan Vanko. It wasn’t as fluffy and disposable as Thor: The Dark World. But the second Thor movie was a pleasant watch, and had some genuinely fun and witty moments.

Ant-Man is just kinda … there. It’s totally a movie, that exists. A largely forgettable movie that takes few chances and gives itself fewer opportunities to excel.

Recommended for Marvel completionists only. Anybody who isn’t completely sold on the MCU can let this one pass them by.

Jurassic World: Burt Macklin, Dinosaur Whisperer

Jurassic World is one of those movies where I suspect the more I talk about it, the worse it’s gonna sound. So, the bottom line: it’s fun, well-staged dinosaur mayhem. It’s also a bit smarter than I thought, setting up many of its plot points/action beats more intelligently than I expected it to.

It is also Chris Pratt’s least interesting role to date. Pratt excels at bringing a lively goofball charm to the table, but Jurassic World asks him to play it 100% straight bad-ass with only a handful of playful moments. He doesn’t fail, exactly, but neither does he truly excel. If you’re a Parks & Rec fan, this ultimately becomes hilarious in a distracting meta way; this is the lantern-jawed uber-capable manly hero of manful manliness that Andy Dwyer imagines himself as every time he slips into Burt Macklin mode.

It’s also pretty silly most of the time, but anybody expecting a cerebral science fiction exploration of how technology affects the human condition really has no business in a theater where grumpy leathery birds can fly off with full grown human adults in their slashy talons while a hybrid of T-Rex and Predator DNA called — no shit — an iRex wreaks havoc. Go for the dinosaurs, or stay home.

The best thing I can say about this movie is that going to see it did not make me regret not doing Fury Road for a third time. (And I did very much like the scene where BURT MACKLIN, DINOSAUR WHISPERER and his pack of WARBOY RAPTORS RIDE ETERNAL INTO VALHALLA, SHINY AND CHROME! WITNESS ME, SECURITY CAMERA BLOODBAG!) Recommended for anybody who has unironically pleasant memories of the first Jurassic Park; Lord knows this movie does.

Naughty Bits Optional

A brief review of Avengers: Age of Ultron:

That was nice.

I enjoyed the movie, meaning the Marvel Cinematic Universe is still batting a thousand for me. But while I saw the original Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy three times each, once is fine for Ultron.

I recall seeing an interview with director Joss Whedon about the original Avengers where he said that if he was going to do the fanboyish X vs. Y thing, he wanted it to be about something. He wanted Thor and Iron Man to have an earnest problem with each other, not just be squaring off because one of them was, say, mind-controlled.

This time out, when Hulkbuster Iron Man throws down against Hulk … well, guess what.

Mind, the Hulk vs. Iron Man sequence is a damned fine action setpiece. It’s first-rate spectacle. But the heart just isn’t there.

I found myself thinking of Iron Man 2 quite a bit — and given that it’s the weakest entry in the series thus far, that’s not a good thing. While it avoided the dull stretches that plagued IM2, it suffered from the same over-stuffed feeling of serving too many masters. Too many events and characters felt like checkboxes on the MCU’s to-do list.

Of course, IM2 had one of my favorite villains in the series, the perpetually underrated Ivan Vanko. Ultron was … fine. James Spader was clearly having fun with the role, and I liked how the character had inherited Tony Stark’s smartassery. But the character felt weirdly constrained, filled with half-formed ideas. As presented Ultron is basically Skynet, which is basically hand-waved away in favor of some energetic robot smashing.

It’s far from terrible. Both the character interactions and the action sequences crackle, with plenty of memorable moments. If you’ve been digging the MCU, you’ll probably enjoy it. But if Marvel’s superhero movies have been hit or miss for you, you can definitely afford to sit this one out.

(Though if you go, skip the credits. “The Avengers Will Return”. There. That’s the post-credits stinger in its entirety. Go home.)

A Brief Review: Ex Machina

Whoa. That was different.

An employee of Definitely Not Google So Don’t Even Try To Sue Us Google wins a lottery that lets him stay a week at the reclusive company founder’s estate in … Alaska, I think. It’s basically Fallingwater perched atop a mad-science-based supervillain’s apocalypse bunker/research center, with glaciers n’at between it and the rest of civilization. But once he’s there, he learns this isn’t just some fun retreat alone with an uber-rich and vaguely-off-putting drinking bro: he’s there to help with a test. A Turing test. Founder-bro wants the see if his robot Ava is an honest-to-god AI.

And from there, the movie goes in … ways you’d expect, ways you’d emphatically NOT expect, and ways that generally do not fail to be interesting and thought provoking.

It’s hard to discuss this movie without either giving spoilers out like they were M&M’s or being infuriatingly circumspect. Some things that I hope are vague enough to be enticing without giving the game away: Ava is neither a terminator nor Skynet. “Intelligent” does not mean “human,” and anthropomorphizing something intelligent enough to have its own agenda is not wise. Being a horrifying creep doesn’t make somebody wrong about everything. And the implied question “So, why did this guy build his AI to have very feminine tits and ass?” very definitely gets answered.

This is thinky sci-fi, not explodey sci-fi. Thinky sci-fi is notoriously difficult to pull off, as movies in general can often wind up significantly dumber than their makers intended. This one doesn’t. It explores interesting ideas and asks intriguing questions, with moviemakers who top-to-bottom know what they’re doing. It’s slow, but if you get on its wavelength, never dull.

There’s some sexual content which can get a bit squicky, if you have a thin skin for such things. Some misogynist tropes ultimately make themselves known, but as “presenting” and “endorsing” are two different things, they didn’t wreck the movie from me.

This movie is a hell of an unexpected treat. If anything I’ve said sounds intriguing, I recommend it highly as a change of pace before the summer blockbuster season gets started in earnest.

A Brief Review of Pain & Gain

Holy shit.

That was … good.

Really good.

Mark Wahlberg stars as a dim-witted, amoral body builder with big dreams who leads two other like-minded lunkheads in a criminal scheme that starts off stupid and gets worse from there. It would be wildly implausible, save that (as the film takes malicious glee reminding us) it’s all based on a true story. (And I read-up on how faithful it was to the actual events. Major liberties were taken, of course, but by Hollywood based-on-a-true-story standards it’s a goddamn documentary. Seriously, some [though not all] of the deeply insane shit that you’ll think HAS to have been made up? Wasn’t.)

It’s unbelievably funny, a dark parody of a caper movie with three protagonists who somehow remain compelling even as the story encourages us to laugh at what unfathomable dipshits they are.

And the most amazing thing … here, I’ll quote MovieBob Chipman from his “Best of 2013″ video:

“Michael Bay made one of the best movies of the year. Michael Bay. One of the best movies of the year. Michael bay. Best of the year. Yeah, that happened.”

The worst thing I can say about it is that it lasts a solid fifteen minutes longer than it should have. But even there it’s far from unwatchable, and given the quality of what came before, I’m prepared to forgive it an over-indulgent denouement.

It’s on Netflix, and if you like movies about idiotic crimes gone terribly wrong, you’ll laugh your ass off. Highly recommended.

A Brief Review: The Book of Life

It’s beautiful. Gotta give it that. This CGI animated stop-motion style Mexican folk tale has a unique visual sense that manages to be consistently fun to look at, particularly the lush sequences set in the Land of the Remembered.

But at some point, I just had the realization of “Okay, my problem is not that this is an unfamiliar story from a culture I don’t get much exposure to, resulting in unfamiliar rhythms; this just kinda sucks.” The story of a supernatural bet played out by proxies, two best friends trying to woo the same girl, never manages to get a sense of momentum going because there’s damned little internal logic. What happens next seems to be governed almost entirely by whatever would look coolest. It just arbitrarily bounces from one scene to another, burdened by a needless and unwelcome framing story that sucks all the life out of the movie whenever it’s on screen.

Recommended only if you really dig Mexican folklore and would love to see it on the screen no matter how imperfect it may be, or if you love you some eye candy.

A Brief Review: Interstellar

Christ. Is there anything as tedious as a science fiction movie that thinks it’s profound when it’s really just pretentious? Smart when it’s actually dumber than a bag of socks?

Interstellar is the modern version of 2001 in precisely the same way that Prometheus is the modern Alien. Like Prometheus, it has some sequences that are engaging, and might even be iconic if they were in a movie that was less terrible. But the movie’s “big moments” are metaphysical gibberish, mired in narratively incoherent story that brings to mind M. Night Shyamalan’s more self-indulgent moments. It could be considered visually striking, if Gravity weren’t a movie that existed.

Recommended only for Christopher Nolan completionists and hard-sf junkies absolutely desperate for a big-screen fix. Avoid.

A Brief Review of Gone Girl

I would respect any opinion of Gone Girl from “It was the best movie I’ve seen this year” to “It filled me righteous and implacable fury and I will never watch anything David Fincher directs again.”

Hell, it’s possible to walk away thinking both.

I’m being vague because discussing what’s problematic about this movie is basically impossible without giving away some huge stonking surprises. And I don’t want to spoil anybody on the movie who might actually see it because it’s really goddamn good, a tense, twisty thriller with uniformly excellent performances that kept me engaged throughout.

But the problematic bits are … yow. This movie winds up embracing some cultural narratives that desperately need to fuck off and die.

Ultimately, did I enjoy this movie? Yes. Yes, I did. But through most of it, there was an annoying douchebag MRA in my head who kept punctuating various scenes with a fist pump and an enthusiastic “AMIRITEBRO?!?!”, and I gotta admit, I never really got that guy to shut up. Recommended for fans of exceptionally well executed lurid thrillers who either do not have certain liberal viewpoints or who are willing to temporarily push them aside for the sake of a gripping story.