REVIEW: Justice League

It's taken me quite some time to form an opinion on Justice League. A week has gone by since I first saw it in theaters and, to be perfectly honest, I'm still not 100% sure what to make of it. I feel like my confusion mainly has to do with my attempts to look at Justice League as a film; therein lies the problem. You see, Justice League isn't a film, so much as it is a product. It's been focus-tested, sanitized, and mechanically shaped into something that's designed to right the wrongs of the DCEU; given my stance on Batman V Superman, you'd think this would be exactly what I wanted. And while it's true that Justice League didn't fill me with as much befuddled rage as Dawn of Justice did, that doesn't mean that Justice League isn't a big fat mess all on its own.

The plot feels like something that's all but completely ignored the last two decades of growth we've seen in the superhero genre. Thousands of years ago, Earth was threatened by a big bad guy named Steppenwolf (a gormless CGI miniboss played by Ciarán Hinds). Against the combined might of mankind, Amazons, Atlanteans, the Olympian Gods, and some cameos meant to generate hype for 2020's Green Lantern Corps (judging how Justice League is doing at the box office, I wouldn't hold my breath; but I digress), Steppenwolf's army is repelled back to Apokolips and his three maguffin boxes are hidden away on Earth. After the death of Superman (Henry Cavill), fear is more rampant on Earth than ever before (yes, Superman dying is implicitly defined by the movie as quantifiably worse than 9/11, the Cold War, and the Holocaust). Thanks to all of the bad vibes generated by the passing of an emotionless alien who levels cities, the Mother Boxes activate and call Steppenwolf back to Earth (since a demoralized populace makes the conquering that much easier). With the man of steel stuck six feet under, it's up to Batman (Ben Affleck) and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) to round up the likes of Aquaman (Jason Momoa), The Flash (Ezra Miller), and Cyborg (Ray Fisher) in order to mount a super-powered counter-offensive; for if they fail, Steppenwolf will use the awesome might of the Mother Boxes to... do... something. They're never 100% clear on what the Mother Boxes actually do, and I honestly think his evil plan is just ends up being a rehash of General Zod's from Man of Steel.

Despite a runtime of just barely two hours, there's a lot in this movie; normally this would make things feel overstuffed, but somehow Justice League manages to spread itself thin. It's like emptying an entire bottle of mustard onto a single hotdog and still being able to taste the meat, it just doesn't make any sense. With everything there is to unpack, I'm going to start by talking about everything this movie got wrong. Well, not everything (unless either of us has the time to dissect the finer points of executive meddling and committee planning in the film industry), but the major things, at the very least. First and foremost, let's address the elephant in the room. After the tragic loss of his daughter earlier this year, Zack Snyder stepped down from directing Justice League, at which point Joss Whedon took the helm, finishing up production and directing any and all necessary reshoots. If you can name a more stylistically different pair of filmmakers working on the same project, I'd certainly like to hear it; Whedon and Snyder's styles are night and day (in some cases literally) and the end result is just as much of a patchwork mess as you'd expect. One moment we have Synder's dreary symbolism and melodrama, the next we have a series of Whedon's eye-rolling quips. I don't plan on ever watching Dawn of Justice or Suicide Squad again (unless it's bad movie night), but I'll at least be able to revisit Justice League with a fun drinking game in mind; take a sip every time there's a noticable shift in direction. If I end up dying of alcohol poisoning shortly after Justice League is released on The Pirate Bay home video, you'll know what happened.

Aside from an inconsistent identity, the film also suffers from an extraordinarily bland plot and villain. I've seen (and made) complaints that Marvel's stories are getting a little stale (often involving some generic antagonist firing a big blue beam into the sky), but even the worst of the MCU has nothing on Justice League. Steppenwolf is a cardboard bad guy; he monologues about fear and power and conquest, only to be defeated without issue, leaving no impression whatsoever. I hate to make the inevitable comparison to Marvel Studios, but I think it's necessary in this case, in order to outline exactly how Warner Bros screwed up on this one. When Marvel put out the first Guardians of the Galaxy, Ronan the Accuser served as a stepping stone to Thanos. He was a bland villain who was only really interesting whenever he was sharing the screen with the bigger, badder bad guy that everyone really wanted to see. I get the sense that WB attempted something similar here with Steppenwolf (since he answers to DC's seminal Kirby-created big bad, Darkseid). 

However, when Marvel did it, you got a sense that they at least knew where they were going with it all. Even though Ronan was a bland, one-dimensional villain, he served his purpose in the grander sense of the MCU, establishing Thanos as more than just a post-credits teaser. Comparatively, Darkseid doesn't even appear in Justice League, not even in a quick cameo; to those unfamiliar with the comics, Steppenwolf is just some guy from space who wants to do something vaguely evil with some magic cubes. A throwaway villain isn't ideal, but they can still serve a greater purpose when a series is attempting a multi-film narrative as the MCU (or DCEU) is. With Justice League, it just comes off like blind emulation; like a child who tries to mimick his older siblings by leaping off the high-dive (despite not knowing how to swim). And when he hits the water, it flops just as hard and sinks just as quickly as you'd expect.

Despite Justice League tying with Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End as the second most expensive film ever made, there's still an unshakable aura of cheapness to the whole thing. The plot is a generic "we need to stop the doomsday plot and also learn to work together" mishmash of clichés, the CGI is merely passable at best (outright embarrassing at worst), and several of the performances leave a lot to be desired. Gal Gadot continues to carry the entire franchise as Wonder Woman (she's not quite as strong here as she was in her solo film, but she's still good enough) and I was quite surprised at how much I enjoyed Ray Fisher in the role of Cyborg. On the other hand, however, Ezra Miller's Flash served no purpose other than to be a quip machine; while he had a few fun moments, it just felt like there could have (and should have) been more depth to this character than what we've got here. You also have Ben Affleck as Batman, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else. I honestly find myself feeling tremendously sorry for Affleck; he once took the role of Daredevil because he assumed it was the closest he would ever get to playing Batman on the big screen. Over a decade later and he's landed his dream role, only to have completely soured on the idea after a single film. That said, Affleck's shotgun wedding of a performance doesn't even hold a candle to the clear weakest links of this cast; those being Jason Momoa and Amber Heard as Arthur Curry and Mera.

As a fan of both Aquaman and Jason Momoa, it pains me to say this, but he's absolutely terrible here. Every line he has is delivered in exactly the same gruff, generic dudebro cadence. The blame doesn't rest entirely on Momoa, as he's given next to nothing to work with (he doesn't even summon any sharks, the lowest of the low-hanging-fruit when it comes to neat Aquaman gimmicks), but it still doesn't change the fact that his character feels like a cheap imitation of Chris Hemsworth's Thor. I don't want my argument to boil down to "not muh Aquaman", but as a fan of the comics, this take on Arthur Curry is nothing like what I had hoped to see. Meanwhile, Amber Heard appears for only one scene, yet leaves enough of a stunningly bad impression that I find myself questioning how excited I even am for James Wan's upcoming Aquaman standalone movie. Just like Wonder Woman before it, the film entirely hinges on whether or not the director can conjure a worthwhile performance out of his lead actors; if their performances in Aquaman are anything like their performances here, then I think it's safe to say that that film is as good as sunk (I'm so sorry). That said, amidst all these middling performances, we still have my favorite part of the entire movie (and, arguably, the entire DCEU). It's a bird, it's a plane, it's...

Spoiler Alert, Superman comes back to life. And his portrayal this time around makes Justice League feel like a two-hour long apology for every sin Zack Snyder previously committed against his character. This is a Superman who is bright, cheerful, and takes visible joy in saving civilians and doling out justice. Sure, it feels completely unearned that he's suddenly treated with such reverence after his last two appearances, but I honestly don't care at this point. Superman is portrayed as he should be (to the point that Batfleck takes a good five minutes to explain to all the fanboys in the audience why Superman is a more human, relatable character than Batman is) and I'm just happy that Henry Cavill is finally being allowed to do the character justice. It's clear (when one looks behind the scenes) that Cavill holds a great deal of regard for the character and history of Superman, yet he was constantly held back by poor writing and direction. Finally, he's free to fight for truth, justice, and the American way and it's honestly the only thing in this entire film that feels 100% right. His resurrection represents the only interesting facet in a supremely bland plot and he ends up being both the most useful and most likeable member of the League (despite, unfortunately, getting the least amount of screentime). 

Alongside Superman's portrayal this time around, I greatly enjoyed the tone and atmosphere Justice League had to offer at times. It often felt inconsistent, true, but there were moments when it felt like exactly the sort of feeling the DCEU should be shooting for; not so self-important and dreary that it becomes a parody of itself, but not an outright comedy like so many recent Marvel films. I also quite enjoyed the score, care of the legendary Danny Elfman. When I had first heard that Elfman planned to sample his 1989 Batman score (and the classic John Williams Superman theme) in his compositions for this film, my eyes practically rolled clean out of my skull. It felt like the most transparent marketing move yet; remember this music from the good DC movies? Doesn't that make you want to like this movie more? That said, having actually heard the score, I must admit, it does it's job well. In hindsight, I would have been perfectly happy had Spider-Man: Homecoming's score been nothing but a gorgeous orchestral remix of the 60's cartoon theme. At the end of the day, those tracks are the iconic themes of Superman and Batman; it's a cheap exploitation of nostalgia, yes, but the end result is still pretty damn good. Really, that explains so many of the parts of this film that I enjoyed. If only WB could figure out a way to just make these films work on their own merit, perhaps they could provide even adequate competition for the MCU (which, at the time of writing, has another 20 films in the planning stages, to be released in the coming years).

What else can I say about Justice League? If Warner Bros' goal was to keep the life support for the DCEU plugged in for but one more year, then I suppose it did its job. Like I said, this film is a complete mess, but it doesn't make me angry the way Batman V Superman or Suicide Squad did. It's harmless, like a rabid dog that's been lobotomized; it's not aggressively stupid anymore, but it's by no means good. It's been just over seven days since I've seen Justice League and it already feels like something I watched ages ago. Honestly, I doubt I'll even remember most of it in a month or two. That said, while it's still on my mind, I think it's worth pointing out exactly what WB needs to do to make this franchise a hit, not just with consumers, but with critics as well. 

All it needs is a little fresh perspective; the Marvel films aren't consistent mega-hits because of their scale or quips or Joss Whedon (hell, certainly not because of Joss Whedon). For the DCEU to succeed, Warner Bros needs to try emulating Marvel's business strategies rather than the content of their films; bring on filmmakers who have proven they know what they're doing (James Gunn, Taika Waititi, Shane Black, etc.) and let them do their thing. Don't try and bend the product to the will of focus testers and studio execs. Treat these films like films. Marvel Studios is a monolithic conveyor belt of content that turns comic book iconography into millions upon millions of dollars thrice annually on a yearly basis. Make no mistake, it's very much a business, and films in the MCU still need to tick a requisite number of shared-universe boxes before they can get the all clear; but at the end of the day, Kevin Feige and company understand which parts of that business should be left in the hands of creative people who understand how to make endearing and entertaining films. Full disclosure, I'm enjoying DC's comic book offerings leagues more than what Marvel's putting out nowadays (no pun intended). It pains me to see the DCEU fail to represent these iconic characters and storylines time and time again with flop after flop, especially since there's so many good elements hidden within this mire of mediocrity (such as Patty Jenkins' Wonder Woman film). But until Warner Bros learns to stop worrying about every other film studio and focus on themselves, I see no reason to expect the DCEU to get any better anytime soon.