REVIEW: Ant-Man and the Wasp

Speaking as someone who liked the first Ant-Man, I feel like even I have to agree with everyone else in saying "who even cares about Ant-Man and The Wasp after THAT?" I mean, can you blame us? I figured I'd change my mind and come around after the hype from Infinity War died down, but it's two months later and I still can't fathom why Marvel decided to release their biggest and most-awaited film to date before their sequel to Ant-Man. I was reasonably excited for this movie, yet I still found myself saying "oh yeah, that did just came out, didn't it?" last weekend. I went to the theater, grabbed my ticket, and settled in with low expectations for an offbeat, inoffensive sci-fi/comedy romp. Unfortunately, I feel like the filmmakers approached this project with those same expectations in mind, and therein lies the problem.

Set two years after the first film, we find Scott Lang under house arrest after the airport incident in Captain America: Civil War. He hasn't worn the Ant-Man suit since, spending his sentence making up for lost time with his daughter, Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson); this all changes when he's contacted once again by Hope Van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly) and her father, Hank (Michael Douglas). After the events of the first Ant-Man film, the two have been working on a device capable of accessing the Quantum Realm, the mysterious, sub-atomic dimension where Hope's mother (and Hank's wife), Janet (Michelle Pfeifer), is thought to be lost. Seeing as how Scott successfully navigated the Quantum Realm in the first movie, Hank and Hope believe him to be the key to locating and rescuing Janet. Naturally, it's not quite that easy; things are complicated, not only by Scott's incarceration, but by the Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), a sinister operative with the ability to phase through solid matter and a keen interest in Hank's research on Quantum energy. With Janet's life hanging in the balance, it's up to Ant-Man and The Wasp to save the day without violating the terms of Scott's plea arrangement.

If this movie has a strong-suit, it's most definitely the character interactions. Scott Lang continues to be one of the most likeable protagonists in the MCU, and his dynamic with Hope reaches new heights this time around. It would have been so simple to go with the old cliché of "inept but loveable man/capable but angry woman", but instead we're allowed moments to see that Hope genuinely cares about Scott. This isn't a one-sided attraction, meant to act as wish-fulfillment for any divorced dads in the audience; they work well together, both as superheroes and human beings, and this is all thanks to Rudd and Lilly's charming "workplace romance"-style chemistry. I also really liked Scott's family dynamic this time around; his relationship with Cassie continues to be tooth-achingly adorable, and it's really nice to see a divorced couple interact in a realistic yet positive manner. There's no glimmer of hope that Scott and his ex-wife (played by Judy Greer) are going to get back together, but they're both totally invested in putting their daughter first, despite the circumstances of their family situation. There isn't any of that "my ex-wife is a shrew and her new man is a tool, they're gonna get some gratifying comuppance" nonsense to be found here; it's a genuinely sweet (if a tad idyllic) portrayal of how parents and step-parents can overcome personal drama and past disputes to make a positive impact in their child's life.

Really, this movie does a lot of interesting things regarding morality and the way people overcome personal conflicts with one another. Ghost is another excellent antagonist in the modern MCU, doing questionable things for perfectly understandable reasons. Her life is at risk, the same as Janet's, so our heroes are placed in a tricky spot; if they do as Ghost asks, they're throwing away their chance at saving Hope's mother. But if they "beat" Ghost the way a superhero usually might, they're essentially condemning her to a painful death, as her condition worsens to the point that it literally causes her to phase out of existence. It's a curious predicament that leads to an admittedly inventive outcome, albeit by way of a conflict resolution that completely dismisses any and all intrigue generated by this catch-22 of a situation (not unlike the way things were resolved in Black Panther). It gives us a host of charming character interactions and a villain who plays with the story and cast in ways you wouldn't necessarily expect, only to handicap itself with a complete and utter lack of any and all ambition in every other respect.

It's a film that, compared to its predecessor, feels much more confident and self-assured of its own identity. Typically, this would be a positive thing, except that the identity in question is painfully unremarkable in nearly every way. The first Ant-Man felt like a truly daring experiment for Marvel Studios; it's the film that made everyone say "okay, I liked The Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy, but really? Ant-Man?" It had an uphill battle to fight in winning over mainstream audiences, and it more than succeeded. Ant-Man and The Wasp, however, feels like exactly what you'd expect if you asked someone to make a generic Marvel movie. It feels like it lacks an identity of its own, especially in a visual sense, which leads me to believe that everything I found so impressive and imaginative about the first Ant-Man was just left-over details from the original Edgar Wright draft. Unlike its predecessor, Ant-Man and The Wasp has no groundwork to build off of, so everything feels noticably flatter as a result.

The action in particular suffers the worst here; outside of a fun and engaging chase sequence through the streets of San Francisco, the fight scenes here are nothing to write home about. We rarely see things from Ant-Man or Wasp's tiny perspective (which, visually speaking, was the best thing about the first movie); instead, get ready to watch that "shrink, dodge, grow, kick, shrink, dodge, grow, kick" maneuver over and over and over again. I understand that it can be challenging to showcase shrinking powers when the main villain is a normal-sized human 100% of the time, but then that's sort of the challenge, isn't it? There's also next to no ant-based action, which was a huge disappointment for me, seeing as how that's easily Ant-Man's most unique ability. Remember that insane sequence in the first movie where Scott learned about all the different types of ants he'd be using during the heist? Here, the ants are purely set dressing and transportation, nothing more (in a movie called Ant-Man and The Wasp, no less). It's a nitpick, sure, but again, why do it at all if you're not even going to try? Ant-Man is a challenging character to bring to life on the big screen, but that's supposed to be the appeal; a movie about Ant-Man isn't going to be as straightforward in terms of its action, direction, or visuals as a movie about Captain America or The Hulk. Instead of rising to the occasion like the first movie did, Ant-Man and The Wasp puts all of its chips on its (admittedly endearing) cast and ends up feeling lesser overall because of it.

All of those flaws, however, more or less fell within my expectations. I came in expecting a lighthearted, low-stakes sci-fi adventure, nothing anywhere near on the same level as Infinity War, and that's basically what I got. I can excuse some preference-based hang-ups and nitpicks for a situation like this, where the film in question isn't really aspiring to be anything more than an enjoyable, down-to-earth romp. What I can't excuse, however, is the numerous plot holes, conveniences, and outright examples of laziness found within this film's storyline. I love Michelle Pfeifer and think she's a perfect choice for the role of Janet Van Dyne, but it's not hyperbole to say that her chunk of the story is held together with chewing gum and dental floss. Everyone's talking about the amount of technobabble in this film, which, to be fair, is to be expected from a character as deeply-rooted in the world of fantastical super-science as Ant-Man. Normally, a character like Scott Lang would act as the everyman, giving Hank and Hope an excuse to put everything in layman's terms for the audience. It's a well-worn trope, but it's more or less forgivable, seeing as how it plays a practical purpose in conveying plot details to the audience (i.e. the scene in Event Horizon in which Sam Niell sticks a pencil through a folded sheet of paper to explain warp-travel). 

The only problem is that we never really get that explanation. The constant repetition of the word "quantum" is just filler, to the point that the film itself makes it the punchline of a joke. You could make the argument that this is meant to be a clever subversion of a classic sci-fi trope (since, in reality, Hank Pym probably wouldn't waste his time explaining the ins and outs of quantum science to a schmo like Scott, especially while on the clock), but I feel that it's much more likely that the filmmakers realized that if they attempted to explain the technobabble, the entire plot would fall apart. The whole point of sci-fi is that it's fiction rooted in science; it's fascinating because, even though concepts like laser guns and robot suits are fantastical, we can more or less rationalize how they might work. Here, the Quantum Realm is essentially magic; if you were to remove every instance of the word "quantum" from the script, you'd end up with a story that answers every pertinent question with "because". How did Janet survive in the Quantum Realm for 30 years without starving or going insane? Because. Why do our heroes only have a set amount of time to rescue her? Because. I'd be fine if the Ant-Man series started to become more fantasy than sci-fi (hey, the opposite worked out alright for Thor), but this just feels indefensibly lazy. Any time a plot point has to happen, the film forces it through by way of some made-up science-y sounding words. It's the same issue I had with the black goo in Prometheus, and I honestly wouldn't care if all of these conveniences didn't occur in places that are integral to the plot we're supposed to care about. You can have harmless conveniences in your movie; it's convenient that Scott happened to be robbing a house with a shrink suit in the basement in the first Ant-Man, but the film isn't lesser for it. You can use coincidence to get your characters into a predicament, but you should never use it to get them out of it, which is something Ant-Man and The Wasp does at all the worst moments. A movie can be off-beat and endearing without insulting the viewer's intelligence, but then that's a balance that this film struggles to grasp (despite a few clever moments here and there).

Despite some really enjoyable performances and some occasionally fun action, Ant-Man and The Wasp only manages to feel painfully average at best. It's inoffensive, but altogether unremarkable, which is a shame, seeing as how this is the 20th film in the MCU. If you're just looking for an excuse to go to the cinema this summer, you could most definitely do worse, and I know kids are gonna love this just as much as they loved the first one (if you have small children, it's sure to inspire less awkward conversations about the nature of mortality than Infinity War did). That said, I'm not sure I need another Ant-Man adventure after this, if this is all they're going to aspire to be. There's nothing wrong with having more low-key entries in something as massive as the MCU; movies like Ant-Man can provide some much needed levity and breathing room in-between the larger blockbusters. But just because a movie aims to be fun and laid-back doesn't mean it has to feel this unambitious and lazy. It's just a victory lap after Infinity War, and I really hope Marvel Studios avoids this kind of attitude in the future. With how much time, effort, and money they've poured into crafting the MCU into an interwoven narrative of annual blockbusters, the one thing they should never aspire to be is "fun enough, but nonessential viewing", which is exactly what Ant-Man and The Wasp turned out to be.

REVIEW: Avengers Infinity War

Well, it's finally here. 10 years after Iron Man kicked off the modern superhero craze, 6 years after the first Avengers teased this particular storyline in its post-credits stinger, and just over two months since Black Panther set all those impressive box office records that this is inevitably going to demolish; Avengers: Infinity War is finally upon us. There are many who view this as the grand finale of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the designated jumping-off point for anyone (like myself) beginning to feel the strain of superhero fatigue. It's taken 18 movies over the past decade to get to this point, so it's understandable if it's all starting to feel like a bit much nowadays. Having at long last seen Infinity War, I can safely say that Joe and Anthony Russo have accomplished the impossible; not only have they crafted a blockbuster with over 30 main characters that doesn't feel like an incoherent mess, they have reignited my excitement for the latent potential of the MCU, leaving me to eagerly await whatever comes next.

The film begins directly after the post-credits scene of Thor Ragnarok, as we find the mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) making his way across the galaxy collecting the ubiquitous Infinity Stones, six glowy ingots that each control some basic element of existence. With all six stones, Thanos would possess the power of a literal god, a power he intends to use to wipe out half of all living things in the universe (all for the supposedly-altruistic goal of restoring cosmic balance, naturally). As one might expect, his plans put him in conflict not only with the recently broken-up Avengers, but with the Guardians of the Galaxy as well. What follows is a two and a half hour long event, taking us from the streets of Manhattan to the far reaches of space, and right about now is probably a good time to mention that there will be mild, implicit spoilers from this point onward. I'm not going to be outright stating what happens to whom, but this isn't the kind of thing you'll want to read if you intend to go in totally blind. So once more, for the people in the back:

SPOILER ALERT: the remainder of this Review reveals certain plot elements of Avengers: Infinity War!

The most immediately striking thing about this movie, for me, was how smartly put-together it was. When describing this movie, it's understandable to assume it would sail about as smoothly as the Titanic; it's got over 30 superheroes in it and acts as a sequel/finale to 17 other movies (I'm not counting Ant-Man since Scott Lang isn't present here), all while acting as a part one to it's own finale. Balancing a stage full of spinning plates isn't even an apt metaphor, it's more like the Russos are balancing live tigers on top of lit sticks of dynamite while riding a tilt-a-whirl. There's no shortage of things that could go wrong with a situation like this, but it's obvious that everyone involved in the production of Infinity War was perfectly cognizant of these possibilities and did everything in their power to avoid making any fatal mistakes (not unlike a certain Sorcerer Supreme).

I've seen a fair share of critics accuse this film of being an exercise in excess, and I can only assume said critics are completely new to the superhero genre. Infinity War shows a frankly miraculous level of restraint in how it doles out its eye-candy; there's no headache-inducing, nigh-incomprehensible action bukkake here like you'd find in Age of Ultron or X-Men: Apocalypse. We aren't given an extended sequence where all 30+ characters attack Thanos at the same time, reducing the screen to an eye-melting visual cacophony of CGI laser beams; instead, everyone is divvied up into teams and given something important to do. Everyone has a plot line to contribute to and, as such, everyone feels as though they matter to some degree. Naturally some characters are more prominent than others (Doctor Strange and Thor play much bigger roles than Okoye and the Winter Soldier, for instance), but no one really feels completely tertiary or useless. It doesn't revel in its own scale this early on, not while there's still half a story left to be told in next year's Avengers: Untitled (a daring, but unique naming convention, if I do say so myself).

The filmmakers knew that, going in, all of our most pressing questions would involve Thanos. All he's done for the past decade is sit in a chair, so they waste no time at all in establishing him as a credible threat. How do they do this? By showing him beating the incredible Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) into submission with nothing but his bare hands in the first five minutes of the movie. The character that has been a trump card for essentially every film he's appeared in is dispatched in the very first scene and doesn't appear again for the rest of the movie (fake trailer shots like the one above are a trend I wholeheartedly endorse, incidentally). The inevitable rematch is something we're denied until the next Avengers film comes out; while some may find this unsatisfying, all it does is make me even more excited for next May.

I also appreciated how Infinity War refuses to waste its audience's time. We've waited this long to get here, so there's no justifiable excuse for any filler. There's a scene near the end of the first act where a broken and battered Thor (Chris Hemsworth) comes across the Guardians of the Galaxy. After an offhand mention that Gamora (Zoe Saldana) is Thanos' daughter, Thor begins to dramatically advance on her while the other Guardians try to fast-talk their way out of a godly beating. Things grow tense for just a moment, only for Thor to pat Gamora on the shoulder and remark "family can be tough". In a lesser film, we'd surely be subjected to a 5-10 minute action sequence where Thor fights the Guardians of the Galaxy over a misunderstanding. It would accomplish nothing beyond padding the runtime with more unnecessary action and feel like a trite waste of our time which, in a movie that's already well over two hours long, is something we cannot abide. Instead, Infinity War makes the mature choice to forego mindless action in favor of a small character moment. It knows exactly what it wants to accomplish and adjusts its priorities accordingly; we've already had entire movies about Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) and Spider-Man (Tom Holland). This one is all about Thanos.

With the recent addition of characters like Killmonger, Ego the Living Planet, and the Vulture to the MCU pantheon, there've been rumblings that Marvel's supposed "villain problem" is finally over. Nowhere is this better illustrated than in Infinity War's handling of Thanos; Josh Brolin is far and above the breakout star here, delivering a performance that more than lives up to nearly ten years of hints and teases. I haven't been this taken with a villain performance since Heath Ledger's turn as the Joker in The Dark Knight, screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely have somehow found a way to take a giant purple cartoon character who has done nothing but sit in a chair for the past decade and turn him into the most nuanced Marvel antagonist this side of Loki (Tom Hiddleston). I've seen a lot of people praising Thanos' motives as being relatable, which I honestly don't understand; his motivation for enacting a universe-wide culling is essentially to preserve resources and vastly improve the quality of life for those who survive (rather than an obsessive infatuation with Lady Death, as seen in the comics). His logic is inherently flawed (considering he could just make more resources appear with a snap of his fingers), but then that's sort of the point; he is the mad titan, and the film makes it perfectly clear that Thanos is insane. He truly believes in his heart of hearts that he's doing the right thing, that he's the iron-willed savior of life as we know it, and that's what makes him such a tangible threat. He isn't simply evil because (as the misleading trailers put it) murdering billions of people puts a smile on his face. He's the hero of his own story; if you watch Infinity War as a film where Thanos is the protagonist, the seemingly odd structure and pacing suddenly make perfect sense. This is a movie where the main character is the villain. It's got a horrifying, depressing, downer of an ending, unless you're watching from Thanos' perspective, in which case everything worked out exactly the way it was supposed to.

The film also takes an opportunity to put other, less prominent Avengers in the spotlight; after Infinity War, I think my favorite character in the entirety of the MCU may be Thor, which is an insane testament to how far we've come. Between Thor: The Dark World and Infinity War, the God of Thunder has been re-worked from a complete jobber with exactly one joke ("I say mortals, what is this "Twitter" you all speak of? Is it anything like the Casket of Ancient Winters???") into a true king who's lost everything. By the time he meets the Guardians in Infinity War, he's lost his family, his friends, his kingdom, his home, his hammer, and his eye, and we finally get a feel for how all of this senseless loss has affected him deep down. My favorite scene in the entire movie is a quiet moment between Thor and Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper), in which his typical bravado is slowly chipped away as we see him truly begin to process his grief. Chris Hemsworth has truly come into his own with this character and I'm praying to Odin and Frigga and all the powers that be that he's not among the deceased in the next Avengers outing. I also came out really enjoying Benedict Cumberbatch's Doctor Strange, who (much like in Thor: Ragnarok) seems to shine best when he's got some other parts of the MCU to bounce off of. Special kudos must also be awarded to Tom Holland, who feels more like Spider-Man here than in any other MCU film (including his own).

With a budget falling somewhere between $300 and $400 million, Infinity War is easily one of the most expensive films ever made; and boy does it look it (can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if the visuals here were complete and utter trash?). It's safe to say that most Marvel movies don't look bad when it comes to their use of CGI, but this is the first time in a very long while where I've actually been impressed by the visual effects in a blockbuster like this. We've reached a sort of singularity where the visuals all mesh together perfectly, and we start to forget that characters like Thanos are made entirely inside a computer. Spider-Man has lost that offputting, overly-animated action figure look he had in Civil War and Homecoming, and I don't even bat an eye when I see Rocket Raccoon and Groot (Vin Diesel) interacting with a room full of real humans. This is also the first film to be shot entirely with IMAX cameras, so perhaps that distinction added something to the visual fidelity we're left to enjoy. When you're dealing with something of this scale, it's important that the action never feels overly-cluttered, and that's something the visual effects artists completely nailed.

The cinematography (care of longtime Russo collaborator, Trent Opaloch) is also quite good, maintaining the Russos' standard up-close-and-personal approach while (for the most part) ditching the requisite shaky-cam we find in The Winter Soldier and Civil War (I suppose shaking an IMAX camera would be both very difficult and potentially very expensive). One sequence in particular that I absolutely adore happens very early on, when two members of Thanos' Black Order (The Ebony Maw, played by Tom Vaughan-Lawlor, and Cull Obsidian, played by Terry Notary) do battle on the streets of New York with Iron Man (Robert Downy Jr), Doctor Strange, Spider-Man, and Wong (Benedict Wong). The beginning of the sequence, where we see the Black Order's ship descending on Bleeker Street, is shot entirely from street-level; we see the ship for the first time the same time Stark and Strange do, and it's this choice of camera angle (along with the seat-rattling sound design) that makes this sequence so immersive. Imagine being a civilian in a post-Avengers NYC; there's a big donut-shaped spacecraft ominously humming above a residential neighborhood and Tony Stark is running towards it alongside two wizards. Things are about to get real. It's a feeling I haven't gotten from one of these movies since I saw the first Avengers film back in 2012, and I think it's Infinity War's ability to not only recapture that same feeling, but to improve upon it that has me so taken with it.

Really, that sums up my entire takeaway here; Avengers was an unforgettable experience the first time I saw it, but it mostly coasts by on spectacle alone. Once you've seen it, it's never quite as good on repeat viewings (especially when you're at home and not in a theater). Infinity War, on the other hand, has so much more to offer right off the bat; already, I'm able to appreciate it on a level beyond the sheer scale of it all. Despite all my praise, it's not quite a perfect film. There are definitely some who will find the length and pacing exhausting, while others will be disappointed in how much screentime is given to certain characters (you can definitely tell this was made before Black Panther went on to make over a billion dollars, and I'm pretty sure Captain America has less than ten lines in the entire thing), but these minor speedbumps can't change the fact that this is an expertly-crafted event of a film that more than lives up to the hype Marvel Studios has spent so much time building. Anyone dismissing this for not feeling like a standard Marvel movie or requiring viewers to do their due-diligence in keeping up with the MCU canon is completely missing the point of this movie; this is not your traditional Marvel movie. At the same time, those who are quick to write off the numerous character deaths as "inconsequential" fail to realize that, in this situation, it's very much about the journey rather than the destination (mainly because we haven't reached the destination just yet). It should be obvious to anyone over the age of 10 that a number of the characters killed off in Infinity War will return for the next Avengers outing, but that doesn't invalidate this film's contributions to the overarching, multi-film narrative that is the MCU.

Avengers: Infinity War is a dark, daring blockbuster that soundly breaks the modern superhero movie mold while upholding and celebrating all the elements that made the genre the box office behemoth it is today. It's a modern-day Empire Strikes Back; in 20-30 years, when we ask the new generation of filmmakers what movie inspired them to pursue such a career, I would be shocked if at least one of them didn't cite Infinity War as the film that changed their life forever. It's a new high for the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and it made a True Believer out of me all over again. Go check it out.

REVIEW: Black Panther

Black Panther is the 18th movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It is completely adequate. 

I could honestly end this Review there, that sums it all up; I know I'm more than a little late on this one and people are probably looking forward to what I have to say, but really now, am I seriously expected to say this is "one of the year's best films, and one that transcends the superhero genre to emerge as an epic of operatic proportions"? The zeitgeist surrounding this movie has been insane to say the least (not unlike the buildup to last year's Wonder Woman), and I can't say I don't blame the hype surrounding this film for building up my expectations to the point that I left the theater feeling somewhat underwhelmed. It seems as though a lot of this overwhelming praise has been awarded due to the film's primarily African setting and characters; representation is, naturally, important, but I just can't understand the mindset of people who only look at these films in terms of what color the actors are. I remember talking to a coworker about Black Panther before I had the chance to see it, and literally the only detail they bothered to discuss were how many women of color were in it. 

Don't get me wrong, that's great; variety is the spice of life, and I'm glad to see different kinds of characters getting to spend some time in the spotlight, especially in the increasingly-homogenous MCU (take a drink every time the protagonist is a snarky, inoffensively-likable white guy). But it still struck me as odd that that was the one positive takeaway they had after seeing it; not the plot, or the writing, or the cinematography, or any of the other aspects of the film that make it a film. I've just had to come to the conclusion that, when it comes to modern blockbusters like this, your average moviegoer is less concerned with the actual craft on display, compared to the messy, sensationalistic politics surrounding it. And despite all my griping, I had my fun with Black Panther; I'm really more disappointed in the fans than I am with the movie. They overhyped this totally passable superhero blockbuster for all the wrong reasons. To the film's credit, it actually does try (and for the most part, succeed) to break the tried and true Marvel movie mold where it can afford to, and those moments make all the difference in the world.

Following the events of Civil War, we see Prince T'Challa (Chadwick Boseman) taking on his late father's role of king and protector of Wakanda, a hyper-advanced nation hidden in the heart of Africa. Shortly after ascending to the throne, T'Challa finds himself pitted against Ulysses Klau (Andy Serkis, acting to the rafters), an arms dealer hellbent on stealing Wakanda's most precious natural resource, vibranium (the same miracle metal which makes up Captain America's shield). With Klau is a vicious mercenary by the name of Erik "Killmonger" Stevens (Michael B. Jordan), who hopes to usurp the throne and utilize Wakanda's vast advances in military technology to bend the world to his will. It's up to T'Challa to rise to the challenge and protect his family, his home, and the rest of the world at large as the stalwart defender of Wakanda, the Black Panther.

Right off the bat, we're given some clear and relevant social commentary regarding the conflict between the safety of isolationism and the moral responsibility that comes with wielding great power on the global stage. I hesitate to call this superhero popcorn flick a "political movie", but there is a fair amount of contemporary subtext, all of which it handles tactfully. The only issue is that the film seldom does anything truly interesting with it. Thanks to the technological advances granted by the nation's vast deposits of vibranium, Wakanda possesses technology far beyond that of other world superpowers; while they could easily use these advantages to help the less fortunate of the world, they choose to remain hidden, opting to not get involved. "You let refugees in, you let in all their problems", remarks Daniel Kaluuya's W'Kabi; a little on the nose, but it lets you know exactly what the conflict in this film is about. It's a situation where both sides of the argument are shown to have objectively valid points and there are no easy answers, yet the film gives us one anyway. The entire movie we're told that these opposing concerns matter (as it's this conflict which drives the entire plot), only for the film to abruptly tell us that none of those things actually matter and everything just works itself out. It's a shame, because I was actually invested in the political intrigue of this movie (moreso than I expected to, at least), only for it to be sold short like so many of the other positive aspects here.

That said, I actually quite enjoyed the performances here. While I'm not overly-familiar with his work, I've heard that Ryan Coogler is an actor's director, and Black Panther gives me no reason to doubt that. Everyone gives a strong performance, even if they're criminally under-utilized (Serkis and Kaluuya are the big two that come to mind) and even if I didn't particularly care for the character themself (such is the case with T'Challa's little sister, Shuri (played by Letitia Wright), who honest-to-god makes a "what are thooooose" joke in this, the year of our lord 2018). Chadwick Boseman continues to play the part of T'Challa with a reserved, dignified sense of cool; he's got an air of importance and unironic seriousness about him that you don't quite get with your Tony Stark or your Star Lord or your Mister Doctor Strange. He's both a superhero and a king, and the film treats him as such; the few comedic moments he gets typically involve him playing the straight man to another character, rather than spitting out sarcastic quips and pop culture references. Some have called his performance boring, I call it exactly the kind of hero the MCU needs more of to balance the tonal scales.

The highlight here, by far, is Michael B. Jordan as Erik Killmonger; in an ironic twist for the MCU, the villain this time around is fleshed-out and interesting, while the protagonists are all comparatively flat and underdeveloped. An American black-ops mercenary looking to give Wakanda a brutal premiere on the world stage, Killmonger is an ethno-nationalist who believes in subjugating (if not outright mudering) those he deems "privileged"; a topical villain if ever there was one. I don't want to spoil his backstory (although, given his aspirations, one could probably make a solid guess), but we'll say that he's completely and totally justified in his outrage; we understand why he feels the way he does and sympathize with his anger. At the same time, it's the way he expresses this outrage (typically through mass, unapologetic bloodshed) that makes him a villain; being able to understand where a character is coming from while being morally opposed to their actions is the stuff great antagonists are made of. I'll admit, when I saw the trailers and realized Black Panther would have to fight "evil Black Panther", I all but wrote the character off, only to be surprised by just how engaging he was. When we see what Killmonger has planned for Wakanda's resources, we understand the kind of responsibility that rests on T'Challa's shoulders; I'm fairly sick of Marvel villains who are "a dark reflection of the hero" (see Iron Man, Ant-Man, Doctor Strange, and most other MCU films), but this is an instance where the symmetry is more than just skin-deep. My only issue is that he unquestionably steals the show from the titular character, who ends up with the short end of the stick in terms of characterization and development.

Despite the strong direction and performances, I still can't help but feel as though Black Panther is a woefully inefficient movie. It's as though every positive aspect of the film has to have an ominous "but" attached to it; the performances are great, but the majority of the characters are under-developed. The cast is talented, but very few of them were utilized to their fullest potential. The subtext is engaging, but it lacks a satisfying payoff. This is a film that clocks in at just over two hours long, yet its main character is denied any kind of impactful, drastic arc. By the time the credits roll, T'Challa is basically the same person he was at the end of Civil War; a proud, young king who just wants to live up to his title, only now he views the past without the aid of rose-tinted glasses. There's a good twenty-minute stretch where the movie unironically pretends as though T'Challa is dead, despite Chadwick Boseman appearing in literally every piece of promotional material for next month's Infinity War. It's clear that, from the story concept to the art design, a lot of thought and care went into making this movie, but details such as this just make the whole thing feel lazy. 

The action is passible (I particularly enjoyed a close-quarters brawl that spilled out into a car chase on the streets of South Korea), but at the same time manages to feel utterly toothless to the point that I found myself growing bored during the film's climax. Early on, Shuri develops a new suit for T'Challa that allows him to harmlessly absorb the kinetic energy of any impact he's hit with; while it's definitely a cool power, it completely and utterly kills the tension in every following action sequence. The only fight scenes with any kind of dramatic weight to them are the moments where T'Challa is challenged for the crown and has his powers and costume ritualistically stripped away. We're given a character like Black Panther (whose powerset is built around acrobatic movement and close-combat martial arts) directed by the man who gave us Creed, yet the majority of the action is bloodless, tensionless, and pointless. It's not helped by the shockingly cheap-looking CGI; Wakanda is a fantastically imaginative concept, but it ends up feeling like nothing more than three or four sets and a green screen. The filmmakers were working with a budget of over $200 million, yet we're subjected to a scene with a CGI rhino that looks like something fresh out of Attack of the Clones. You can't honestly tell me that it was cheaper, quicker, and easier to synthesize a hilariously fake rhinoceros inside a computer than it would have been to take a day-trip to a nature preserve or sanctuary and just get some footage with a real rhino. They were working with one of the few superheros whose powers can be portrayed with nothing more than some martial arts training and tight choreography, yet the action looks like something out of a Playstation 2 cutscene. It's creative decisions like these that give the film an air of cheapness, which is a shame, since it's an utter joy from a conceptual standpoint. For as much as I'm ragging on this movie, I need to make clear that there were a lot of fantastic ideas here, it's just that very few of them were represented to their fullest potential.

Black Panther isn't a bad movie, nor is it a great one. It's fine. I don't regret paying for my ticket, but I can't help but cock a skeptical eyebrow in the direction of everyone who's spent the past month raving about it. That said, I guess you could say that I'm happy that people are happy with it; it's great to see a movie as large as this with a black protagonist that doesn't completely revolve around the pain and horrors of racism. This isn't 12 Years a Slave or Detroit; kids who watch this movie will think it's awesome to be like Black Panther, and that's an objectively positive thing to take away, regardless of what your personal take on the film itself is. While it's definitely not a bad movie, I just don't think it's one of Marvel's best. Like a lot of what the MCU has to offer, it's fairly likable and inoffensive, despite its faults; I only hope that Kevin Feige and company can aspire to something more substantial for King T'Challa and pals next time around.

REVIEW: Thor Ragnarok

It feels like, consistently, out of all of Marvel's characters, Thor and Hulk always get the short end of the stick. Not only are they arguably the two Avengers that are hardest to take seriously, their considerable power levels lead to them either mysteriously disappearing or getting conveniently dispatched during most group action sequences (because let's face it, it's a lot easier to make compelling action setpieces when hordes of CGI henchmen are going up against squishy humans with fancy toys rather than two invulnerable flying bricks). It's really a shame, because these two have such amazing potential that has never really been realized in the span of the MCU; The Incredible Hulk (back when Bruce Banner looked mysteriously like Edward Norton) is fun but standard, and the previous two Thor films are easily the most forgettable entries into Marvel's cinematic universe. It seemed like a stroke of genius taking the two most under-appreciated (not to mention, under-utilized) Avengers and putting them in the same film, especially since their buddies/rivals dynamic has been a highlight of previous team-ups. While Thor Ragnarok is by no means a game-changer, it was definitely a lot of lovingly-crafted fun.

The plot takes place two years after the events of Age of Ultron, highlighting exactly what Thor and Hulk were busy doing while that whole Civil War mess was going down. After unsuccessfully attempting to track down the Infinity Gems and running afoul of the Norse demon known as Surtur (voiced by the one and only owner of the Krusty Krab, Clancy Brown), Thor (Chris Hemsworth) finds himself at long last returning to his home of Asgard. As we saw at the end of Thor: The Dark World, Loki (Tom Hiddelston) has taken advantage of his brother's long absence, disguising himself as their father, Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and seizing control of the throne. This leads to a chain of events that results in the return of Hela (Cate Blanchette), Odin's firstborn daughter and goddess of death. After failing to stop their vengeful sister from returning to Asgard, Thor and Loki find themselves flung into the far reaches of space, landing on the gladiatorial planet known as Sakaar (run by the flamboyant Grandmaster, played by the immortal Jeff Goldblum). Once there, who should they run into but the everlovin' Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), who's spent the last two years on Sakaar as the Grandmaster's champion. With Hela seizing control of Asgard, it's up to the mighty Thor to assemble what allies he can, escape Sakaar, return home, and prevent the coming of Rangarok; the end of all things.

While I very much appreciate Marvel beginning to step out of their comfort zone when it comes to the premise of these films (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 ended with the team fighting a living planet, after all), it still feels as though they're too timid to fully commit to something totally wild and original. Even with its bombastic sense of humor and planet-hopping storyline, Thor Ragnarok is still, at its core, your standard "we gotta get home and stop the bad guy from taking over" plot. It very much feels as though director Taika Waititi (who created one of my favorite comedies of all time) and the executives at Marvel Studios had two different visions of what this movie should be. Waititi clearly wanted an offbeat cosmic road movie, while Marvel seemed to have a checklist of criteria that needed to be fulfilled in order to set up future event films in the MCU. There's a number of major events and character deaths that don't receive nearly the amount of attention one might expect, and that sense of unbalance and disharmony ends up taking a toll on the film as a whole.

After Thor ends up on Sakaar, the film splits into two storylines; Thor trying to get home, and Hela seizing control of Asgard. Obviously, the two converge during the final act, but I found myself feeling a real sense of tonal dissonance. Everything on Sakaar is more or less comedic (especially when Jeff Goldblum is on screen) and everything on Asgard is 100% serious (especially when Hela is on screen). Not to say that things felt jarring or uneven (each storyline was tonally consistent in its own way), but it made the film feel like it was in conflict with itself. The Asgard storyline feels like a fantasy action/drama, where supporting characters are brutally offed on-screen and innocent families are forced into hiding for their own protection. Meanwhile, the Sakaar storyline feels like a sci-fi comedy/adventure, full of slapstick and comedic subversions. The film's habit of cutting back and forth between each storyline with every scene results in a sort of water and oil situation, where the film struggles with developing a consistent identity.

I don't mean to keep bringing up Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, but seeing as how that might just be my favorite MCU movie, it ends up being a fine example of how to craft exactly the sort of film Marvel Studios should strive to make. Despite being very comedic in tone, the constant jokes didn't really clash with the drama; we still felt for the characters and cared about their stories. The comedy is used as a way to get the audience invested in and attached to the characters, rather than simply as a way to make everyone laugh; James Gunn understood this well enough that, by the time the movie is over, there was hardly a dry eye in the theater (despite the final shot consisting of a talking CGI raccoon at a space funeral). It's important not to lose track of that human element, which is something that both Spider-Man Homecoming and Thor Ragnarok struggle with. It's something I touch on in my Wonder Woman Review, how many Marvel movies seem to default to lighthearted action comedy as a way of dispelling the tension that arises when you expect an audience to actually take a flying space viking seriously. Usually it works out well enough, but relying too much on undercutting drama with a joke can make the film predictable. Don't get me wrong, Ragnarok is a very funny movie (I would expect no less from Taika Waititi), but by the third act it had gotten to the point where I didn't take anything at face value. Whenever the music began to swell and something dramatic was about to happen, I immediately thought to myself "what would be the most obvious way to make this scene funny"; cue exactly that happening mere seconds later.

The film's breakneck pace also contributes to this lack of emotional attachment; despite clocking in at just over two hours, there are plenty of elements at play here that don't get nearly the amount of attention we'd hope for. There's never really a dull moment or a stretch of the film where I felt bored (which, don't get me wrong, is excellent), but it also feels like we didn't get enough time with some of the exciting new elements they introduced this time around. There's exactly one gladiator fight (despite how much of the plot takes place on Sakaar), Jeff Goldblum doesn't get nearly as many scenes as he deserves (although this is true of every movie ever made), and a number of character deaths feel brushed over. Karl Urban appears as Skurge the Executioner and, judging from his performance, he could have easily been my favorite part of the entire film, had he been given more attention. This is a film with little to no fat on it, but in removing the excess, they seem to have cut off some of the good meat as well. The opening scene might be my favorite in the entire movie; it's a fun, exciting action sequence that really hypes you up to watch the mighty Thor in action. But from that point on, Thor is removed from the Asgard plot until the climax and thrust into a new setting that isn't really given a chance to shine whenever Jeff Goldblum isn't onscreen. Despite the entertaining cast, this is a movie where the plot is driven moreso by the story rather than the characters.

Now despite all my issues, I think it's worth noting that I really did enjoy myself with Ragnarok. After years of desperately trying to find his MCU niche, it feels like we've finally gotten to a place with the character of Thor where he can really come into his own as a protagonist. While I never really felt the kind of emotions I got with something like Guardians 2, I really can't emphasize what a fun, endearing road movie this is. Jack "The King" Kirby would have turned 100 this year, and this film feels like the ultimate tribute to his influence on Marvel's comics; it's a whacked-out cosmic fantasy romp full of weird aliens and weirder architecture, where ancient mythologies and deep-space civilizations collide. There's even a strong focus on the classic "Kirby Dots" during the credits; this is a classic-era Marvel story with a modern twist, and the result is just a load of fun. The main cast all give strong performances and play off of each other wonderfully; I especially liked Tom Hiddelston as Loki this time around. Not only does he continue to show off what a genuinely solid comedic actor he is, but his arc is easily the most interesting, as he comes to terms with the fact that, while he may be more clever than his big, dumb jock of a brother, he still hasn't accomplished much, despite all of his supposed intellect and trickery. While it's true that there's not much here in the way of ingenuity, you'd be hard pressed to sit through this without having a good, fun time.

Despite its shortcomings, Thor Ragnarok is still a thoroughly enjoyable romp that is really quite hard to dislike. While it's not necessarily among the absolute best of the MCU, it's very easily the best Thor movie to date; it's an offbeat space adventure with a lot of laughs and imagination that has an unfortunate habit of getting in its own way. While I'd still like to see Thor done with a bit more sincerity, what's here is in no way bad or disappointing. There's a load of great performances and some really excellent cinematography, all framed around a delightfully quirky score care of DEVO's Mark Mothersbaugh. If the film did nothing else, it finally accomplished what so many MCU films have tried to do for so long; it gave Chris Hemsworth's Thor something fun and interesting to do. It's not my favorite MCU film by any means, but I definitely got a kick out of it; check it out.

Hey wait a minute, where the hell was Lady Sif?

REVIEW: Spider-Man Homecoming

Okay, I should probably make one thing clear before we begin; I'm not exactly the most unbiased source for an opinion on anything involving Spider-Man. Spidey's been a part of my childhood for about as long as I can remember and to this day remains my absolute favorite superhero of all time (sorry, Aquaman). Whenever I'm met with something Spider-Man related, my reaction is either immensely positive or resoundingly negative, very rarely does anything fall into that middle ground of "it was okay". It's a property I hold near and dear to my heart, which explains why I find myself so frequently enraged at Sony Pictures' shabby treatment of the web-slinger; as if pitching a standalone Venom movie (which wouldn't feature Spider-Man in any capacity) as a Zombieland-esque comedy wasn't enough, there was that bevy of leaked Sony emails not too long ago, in which we learned that the studio at one point toyed with the idea of reinventing Peter Parker as an EDM vegan who posts about hot power yoga on his Snapchat. Suffice to say, the character would be far safer in the loving hands of Marvel Studios and Disney, far away from Amy Pascal and her terrible, terrible ideas. Which is why I was both hopeful and ambivalent towards the cheekily-named Spider-Man Homecoming for some time. On one hand, my favorite comic book hero was finally joining the MCU in a way that appeared to stick closer to the source material than any previous iteration. On the other hand, this is the third attempt at a Spider-Man series in the past decade (Spider-Man 3 released ten years ago in 2007, in case you didn't feel needlessly old yet today); as much as I love the ol' webhead, I too began to feel the pangs of Spider-Man fatigue. The Marvel formula was becoming more and more noticeable as time went on, Sony was still involved, and (as with Wonder Woman), I was forced to endure a load of tiresome and embarrassing outrage and controversy leading up to the film's release. I expected this to be a perfectly inoffensive, by-the-numbers superhero flick; to my surprise, I not only liked Spider-Man Homecoming, I really liked it.

Set a few months after the events of Civil War, the plot follows Peter Parker (Tom Holland) struggling to live the life of an ordinary teenage kid, despite being able to do whatever a spider can. Under the guise of an internship for Tony Stark (Robert Downy Jr, who is thankfully in far less of this movie than the advertising would have you believe), Peter takes to the streets as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, hoping to impress Mr. Stark with his do-gooding enough to land a spot on the recently-splintered Avengers. While his heart is in the right place, Pete's overzealousness leads to a run in with an underground weapons ring led by Adrian Toomes (Michael Keaton, insert Birdman joke here), otherwise known as the Vulture. Faced with a job too small in scale to attract the heavy-hitters at Avengers Tower, it's up to Spider-Man to keep these advanced weapons off the streets, foil the Vulture's plans, and find a date to his high school's homecoming dance. 

Considering Spider-Man is my favorite hero of all time, it's pretty amazing how soundly the marketing campaign killed what hype I had stored up for this movie. The trailers seemed to divulge the entire plot and the posters painted the whole thing as "Iron Man 3.5: featuring Spider-Boy"; it's no small feat to make the third Thor film look leagues better than Spider-Man, but damned if Marvel's (or more likely Sony's) marketing department didn't pull it off. I was glad to find, however, that all of my concerns were for nothing. Iron Man appears for about a collective ten minutes and the plot still managed to throw me for a few loops here and there; this is very much Peter Parker's story, and that's something that's tremendously important considering this is the character's true standalone debut in the MCU. If there's one thing you don't want to screw up, it's the introduction of Spider-Man, of all characters, into your shared cinematic universe. Luckily, director Jon Watts and company pull it off with aplomb; it's been said that it felt as though someone made a checklist of things we'd seen before in a Spider-Man movie and then deliberately left those aspects out of Homecoming. I couldn't agree more. Despite being reboot number three, this manages to feel like a fresh and original take on the character, all while staying true to what we've come to expect from Spider-Man thus far. There are plenty of moments where Peter has to hide his identity from his friends and family, yet nothing that feels overly trite or done-before. It feels like its own movie, its own take on this property, and that's hugely important considering everything this movie has going against it, just by virtue of existing when it does.

It's also worth mentioning that I wouldn't necessarily consider this an action movie, so much as it is a coming-of-age comedy with some action bits in it. The characters take precedent over web-swinging, wall-crawling fisticuffs, and for as much as the fanboy in me loves to see Spider-Man beat up some bad guys, this is honestly how a proper Spidey film should be done; characters first, action second. The entire thing is very down-to-earth in tone, which compliments Spider-Man's role in the MCU perfectly. Part of me was afraid that the inclusion of details such as Iron Man meant that this film was merely a formality, a prologue to fast-tracking Peter Parker onto the Avengers where he'd face world-wide threats rather than petty crooks and bank robbers. Instead, the movie goes for a decidedly street-level, working-class tone, both with its story, hero, and villain. There's no massive blue beam firing into the sky and no major city is destroyed during the climax; the primary conflict involves Spider-Man trying to stop the Vulture and his cronies from selling high-tech guns on the black market. That's it. It's simple and refreshing and exactly the kind of thing Spider-Man should be dealing with.

I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about the Vulture, played by the immortal Michael Keaton. There's a host of good performances here (Tom Holland is, as I said in my Civil War Review, the most accurate Spider-Man to ever grace the big screen), but Keaton is by far the best of the bunch. If you'd have told me a few years ago that the absolute best villain the MCU had to offer was the Vulture, I'd have laughed in your face. But the fact still stands that this take on the character is engaging and refreshing, while still staying true to the character's comic book roots. Adrian Toomes is a man who was cheated by the system and is simply looking to provide for his family. While he's by no means a hero (attempting to murder a child is pretty low, no matter how noble your motivation may be), he's far more sympathetic and relatable than I think anyone could have expected. The best kind of villians are the ones who not only believe they're doing the right thing, but whose motivations make perfect logical sense to the viewer. We don't necessarily root for the Vulture, but we completely get where he's coming from. There's a series of very strong-yet-subtle parallels between Peter and Toomes that makes for a genuinely compelling hero/villain relationship, to the point that the best scene in the movie involves Michael Keaton simply sitting at a traffic light. This is exactly the kind of fleshed-out antagonist the MCU is in desperate need of.

Unfortunately, not everything here is ideal. Leading up to its release, a great deal of controversy surrounded the mysterious character of Michelle, played by Zendaya. I won't spoil anything here, but this character just felt utterly pointless. For all the promotion Michelle got leading up to the film's release, I'm fairly certain she ends up having less screen time than the Shocker (and I'll bet you didn't even know Shocker was in this movie). Zendaya gives a poor performance, delivering some of the few jokes in the movie that fall utterly flat; in the end, the plot would be exactly the same (I'd even argue that it would be marginally better) had she been cut out entirely. Her inclusion feels like the result of an executive mandate, either from someone at Sony who wanted to drum up pointless controversy (because clearly that worked so well for last year's Ghostbusters remake) or from someone at Disney who wanted some brand synergy with one of their up and coming Disney Channel starlets. In the end, it just feels like a half-baked cop-out of an idea (and Kevin Feige's statements on the subject all but confirm this character had no other purpose than to serve as a litmus test as to what the studio could get away with).

I also wasn't a fan of the overly-comedic tone at times; don't get me wrong, this is a very funny, sharply-written movie with a number of laugh out loud moments. However, in erring on the side of outright comedy, it feels almost like the film sacrifices some of the heart that is so central to the Spider-Man character. The film gives us a nice, snappy pace that occasionally slows to allow for a quieter moment or two. However, these moments (such as Peter's interactions with his Aunt May, played here by Marissa Tomei) feel somewhat glossed over compared to the more offbeat comedy, so the drama we're clearly meant to feel comes off as not entirely earned. It's easy to make me feel things for Spider-Man, considering what a key role he played in my childhood (and I'm sure in countless others), but Homecoming never really had that Guardians of the Galaxy moment where we're made to realize just how much we actually care about the characters on-screen. Key aspects of the Spider-Man character like his deep-rooted feelings of guilt and dedication to upholding his great responsibility are all but replaced with "impressing Mr. Stark" and, while this does serve a larger character arc for Peter Parker over the course of the film, it still feels like something of an oversight at the end of the day. This film had every opportunity to really hit me where I live, and while one scene near the end came close (thanks entirely to the performance of Tom Holland), I still left the theater feeling very emotionally un-challenged. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing; not every movie has to be Logan, but some of my favorite Spider-Man moments (in both the comics, movies, and cartoons) are when things get real and boil down to simple, raw emotion, rather than just upbeat thwips and quips.

Spider-Man Homecoming isn't perfect, but it just might be the best Spider-Man film of all time; keep in mind, I say this as a nostalgia-addled fanboy for the Raimi trilogy of the mid-2000's. There's a few hiccups here and there (some of the CGI is a little garish, the action isn't anything special, and the cinematography ranges from genuinely great to outright confusing), but I still found this to be a refreshing take on a classic franchise that many assumed was done to death. It innovates where it needs to and shows us some things we've never seen before, totally justifying its existence as the most recent attempt at getting Spider-Man to work on the big screen, even considering the dismal Amazing Spider-Man 2 came out merely three years ago. If you're a fan of the comics like I am, I can't really think of a reason you'd have for disliking Spider-Man Homecoming. I look forward to seeing what Spidey's got in store for us next time, not even counting his appearance in next year's Avengers: Infinity War.

REVIEW: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

It seems so quaint nowadays to think that Guardians of the Galaxy was once considered a risky venture for Marvel Studios. Back in the summer of 2014, a multi-million dollar investment in one of Marvel's more out-there and obscure properties helmed by a director who primarily worked on schlocky indie horror films seemed like quite the odd choice. Many assumed it would be the studio's first big flop, the first chink in the armor of the MCU. Iron Man and Thor had become household names, but there was no way that mainstream, non-comic-reading audiences would respond to a movie starring a talking raccoon zipping through the cosmos alongside a talking tree. Lo and behold, Marvel's gamble paid off and the film went on to be one of the series' most popular (not to mention profitable) ventures, a surprisingly heartfelt space opera chock-full of gorgeous visuals, endearing characters, and unexpectedly in-depth reverence for its cosmic source material. Considering that it was a runaway success, it's no surprise that James Gunn and crew are back with Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, a sequel that gives us more of everything we loved the first time around, both for better and for worse.

Taking place a mere three months after the events of the first film (essentially making this a period piece set in 2014), the titular Guardians have since gone on to become renowned as cosmic do-gooders for hire. After a lucrative monster-slaying contract goes south, the gang of misfits find themselves on the run again, both from the totalitarian regime of the Sovereign and the gang of space pirates known as the Ravagers. This is when they come across an enigmatic being known as Ego (Kurt Russell), an ancient celestial god (and living planet) who claims to be Peter Quill's (Chris Pratt) biological father. What follows is an appropriately absurd galaxy-hopping adventure chock full of twists, humor, and gratuitous cameos, all held together by an unexpectedly hard-hitting theme of parenthood and the responsibility that comes with it.

The first Guardians film succeeded, not only because of its colorful visuals, imaginative settings, and classic rock soundtrack, but also because of how it took a bizarre, fantastical premise and tied it to an easily recognizable human element. The idea of downtrodden misfits finding a sense of family in one another is an idea used in everything from The Breakfast Club to The Goonies; it's a classic story convention that helps the audience connect with all the weird space-creatures fighting over magical rocks. Something of a cliché, sure, but it is the way in which this idea is presented that keeps it from coming off as overly-trite and done-before. Vol. 2 goes for something a little grander in scope, which is respectable. The film explores the dynamics of what exactly defines a family, and how that can factor into dealing with the ghosts of one's past. Literally every main character in this film has had to deal with some sort of hardship early on in life, and the film sets out to illustrate that it's the people who help us through these hardships who truly deserve to be called family. We see what happens to those with a support system and to those who go it alone; in terms of subtext, Guardians 2 is a tightly-wound clock, every proverbial cog and gear meshing together perfectly.

Unfortunately, the stronger emphasis on characterization means less focus on the plot and pacing, both of which suffer when compared to the first film. After our gang of Guardians arrive on Ego's planet, things slow down considerably and, aside from a few enjoyable sequences here and there, don't really pick up until the massive dramatic turn that kicks off the third act. There are also moments in which the film feels as though it may be trying a bit too hard; as I said, everything we loved in the first movie is here in even greater amounts, for better or for worse. There's far more comedic relief which, though well-written and effective for the most part, seems to undercut some of the more dramatic and serious moments the film has to offer. There are loads of genuine laughs here, but the film feels far too eager to make us smile at times, to the point that tonal dissonance begins to really feel like a genuine problem at some points (specifically around the ending).

That said, there are also a number of ways that Vol. 2 builds and improves upon the groundwork laid by the first Guardians film. One of the most striking elements of the first movie was its use of classic rock songs; the soundtrack was immensely well-received and became one of the iconic, defining elements associated with the film. The pressure was on James Gunn to make sure that Awesome Mix Vol. 2 lived up to its predecessor, and I'm happy to report that it doesn't disappoint. It's clear that tremendous care was taken in regards to the specific songs and lyrics that are implemented, tying in explicitly with the plot, characters, and themes of the film (the most impressive examples being the film's use of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac and Brandy (You're a Fine Girl) by Looking Glass). While the inclusion of these songs can feel a little mandated at times, the music is certainly one of the details that is sure to only improve upon repeat viewings. 

As mentioned before, the human element and characterization at play here are stronger than ever before. While the first film had a number of memorable and endearing character moments, it feels here as though every main character gets a moment to shine this time around. I was truly relieved that Baby Groot (Vin Diesel, appropriately pitched-up for comedic effect) wasn't the irritating toy mascot I feared he'd be; James Gunn swore that the character's infantile appearance and mindset served a greater thematic purpose beyond simply selling ample amounts of merchandise, and damned if he wasn't telling the truth. Characters like Rocket Raccoon (Bradley Cooper/Sean Gunn) and Yondu (Michael Rooker) are given more to do this time around, proving that some characters can completely steal the show if you give them the chance. I also positively adored the new additions to the cast, namely Pom Klementieff (as the innocent and empathetic Mantis) and Kurt Russell as Ego the Living Planet. Now, while I rarely dabble in spoiler territory, I feel as though it's necessary to discuss certain specific plot elements in order to review this film properly. If you've not seen the film yet, I recommend it; while it falls short of its predecessor in some key areas, it most assuredly improves in others (especially during the phenomenal climax). All in all, I enjoyed myself and would gladly go see it again (if only to really dissect the film further, without scanning every shot for some hidden reference or cameo). With that out of the way...

SPOILER ALERT: the remainder of this Review spoils key plot elements of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2!

If there is one egregious error that so many Marvel films are guilty of (including the first Guardians of the Galaxy), it's the franchise's history of lackluster and half-baked villains. For every Loki or Killgrave, it seems that there's a dozen Malekiths and Kaeciliuses; characters that, compared to the protagonists, are criminally underwritten and lacking in any kind of fleshed-out motivation. They serve merely as obstacles that our heroes have to punch and/or blast out of the way once it's time for the climax to take place. Which is why I'm so happy that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 successfully bucks this trend with Kurt Russell's take on Ego the Living Planet. James Gunn insisted that the majority of footage used in the advertisements for this film only come from the first 20 minutes; anything else had to be shown completely without any context. It seems this strategy paid off in the long run, since the film completely threw me for a genuine loop. 

I was originally led to believe that the primary antagonist would either be Ayesha (the high priestess of the Sovereign, played by Elizabeth Debicki) or Taserface (a mutinous pirate who takes control of Yondu's crew, played by Chris Sullivan). Both were built up as the main threat, and it was only when we were completely comfortable with Ego's presence that his true intentions were revealed. It's not often that I audibly gasp during a movie; frankly, it's not often that I hear anyone audibly gasp during a movie. But the second Kurt Russell casually delivers his line about killing Peter's mother, all the air was sucked out of the theater. That, to me, is proof of an effective and well-crafted villain. That was the film's "Luke, I am your father" moment. While the film definitely drags in some areas, everything from that moment at the end of the second act onward is unquestionably excellent, bringing everything to a head for an exciting, emotional climax.

While I wouldn't necessarily say that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is better than its predecessor, it definitely has its moments. Like the first film, this is a gorgeously-shot space opera that utterly revels in the more bizarre aspects of Marvel's long and colorful history (the mandatory appearance by Stan Lee left me positively giddy with excitement this time around). The pacing suffers noticeably around the second act, but it more than makes up for it with its intense, emotionally-charged conclusion. Each character is fleshed out to an impressive degree and the movie exhibits masterful control and understanding of its subtextual themes, incorporating them into everything from its plot to its characterization to its soundtrack. Yes, it has its flaws, but this is a film that is overall very hard to dislike. It bit off more than it could chew, but it still manages to swallow and digest a commendable amount of content. Not quite Marvel's best, but it's certainly up there.