Tag Archives: superhero films

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Fight the Pain Away

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Supergirl

by George Wolf

Look, Kara Zor-El (Milly Alcock) isn’t some goody-goody like her cousin Superman, okay? She’s a hard partying rock chick rockin’ a Blondie t-shirt and a wiseass attitude on her 23rd birthday, so F-you! She’s not about go and join young Ruthye’s (Eve Ridley) quest to avenge her parents’ death at the cold-blooded hands of space villain Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts).

But then Krem shoots Krypto full of a slow-acting poison, and suddenly Kara’s got 72 hours to find Krem, get the antidote, and save her beloved dog from back home.

There’s also a sex trafficking ring to bust up, so add Fury Road to John Wick, Star Wars, Alien, multiple Westerns and various other inspirations you may spot. And while at this point, finding an entirely original stylistic angle for your superhero film may be damn near impossible, this familiarity is one of the things keeping a pretty satisfying adventure from reaching the stratosphere.

Director Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya, Lars and the Real Girl, The Finest Hours) overcomes some occasionally wonky CGI to craft several winning sequences of action, backstory and world building, but often undercuts the growing momentum by bailing out too soon. The surprising dive into the demise of Krypton adds narrative heft, but dropping it between the grimness of The Dark Knight and the giddy excess of Birds of Prey keeps any distinct tone elusive.

Through all of it, Alcock (House of the Dragon) keeps our titular hero wonderfully grounded. Writer Ana Nogueira’s debut screenplay may be filled with familiar themes of grief, destiny, revenge and female rage, but Kara has specific reasons to be wounded. Alcock makes sure we appreciate the character arc that turns Kara’s defense mechanisms into Supergirl’s defense of truth, justice, and…you know.

Alcock finds a way to make us care about the girl, whether hunting down Krem (Schoenaerts is a wonderful, facially-studded psycho), fighting alongside Lobo (Jason Mamoa, gleefully hamming it up) or feeling sweetly big sisterly to the resourceful Ruthye.

And more importantly, Alcock’s scenes with David Corenswet’s Superman cement the film’s biggest win: giving Kara the agency for her hero to stand as more than just a sidekick. This girl’s truth is separate from her famous cousin. Supergirl makes no apologies for making that clear, with an uneven but ultimately effective introduction.

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Strike a Pose

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Justice League

by George Wolf

Fair or foul, each new superhero film release spurs a check of the scorecards: Marvel vs. DC. Last year, Wonder Woman finally put a solid check in the DC column, one that Justice League only leaves frustrated and alone.

Nearly every facet of the film not only betrays a few promising avenues left undeveloped, but also its basic superhero tenets that are bettered by similar films (including the underrated Batman v. Superman). These friends aren’t super, they’re awkwardly forced and often helpless against some distracting CGI.

Perhaps even more than superpowers, big screen heroes need memorable villains, and the newly formed Justice League offers none. Instead, they have Steppenwolf.

Steppenwolf is a mass of weak computer graphics (voiced by Ciaran Hinds), born to be wild but currently in search of the three “mother boxes” he needs to unleash “the end of worlds” and send everyone back to the Dark Ages.

With Superman (Henry Cavill) still dead, Batman (Ben Affleck) and Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) recruit the surly Aquaman (Jason Momoa), the young Flash (Ezra Miller) and the brooding Cyborg (Ray Fisher) to join the cause.

They have the bodies. What they don’t have are characters worthy of investment.

Director Zack Snyder has them pose, trade overly dramatic declarations, and then do some additional posing while you may be checking your watch.

Comparisons to the first Avengers film are inevitable, especially with Joss Whedon on board as a co-writer, but Justice League just cannot get any resonance from the darker tone of the DC franchise. The push to be heavy and meaningful is an empty suit, despite well-meaning lip service to refugees and the importance of science.

Ironically, as the Marvel films continue to lean more comedic, the humorous moments in Justice League, usually courtesy of Miller and Mamoa, are among the film’s best. Rather than undercutting any dramatic tension, the humor here feels more logical and organic, similar to the highly effective funny bone in the recent Spider-Man: Homecoming.

And, with Gadot back on board, the difference in Wonder Woman through a male director’s lens is hard to miss. Yes, she gets some bad ass moments that she’s more than earned, but she also gets a more sexualized, less earnest presentation.

There are two extra “stinger” scenes to send you out discussing who the JL is fighting next, but perhaps the lasting impression of Justice League is just how behind-the-curve it all looks. Steppenwolf seems lifted from an old gaming commercial you might find on that VHS tape still lurking in your basement, while Cavill’s digitally-altered mouth (to remove a contractually obligated porn ‘stache he had during reshoots) sits there proudly like a new zit on prom night.

There is substance to be gleaned from DC, Wonder Woman was proof of that. But for now, Justice League is two tired steps back.

 





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Losing the Will to Live

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Suicide Squad

by Hope Madden

Through it all – casting changes, recuts, reshoots, August opening date – I remained cautiously optimistic. Suicide Squad could be good.

Why? Because the villains are the most interesting part of the DC universe and the idea of a film unburdened by some superhero or another’s conflicted conscience or internal crisis, free to revel in the wing-nut chaos of nothing but villains felt fresh and risky.

And there’s not one but nine villains … yeah, nine is a lot. It could be tough to piece together a story that feels less like a cattle call than a coherent film.

But Suicide Squad offers a marginally promising cast. Will Smith is tired, but Jared Leto (hot off his Oscar) as the Joker can’t help but pique interest, and Margot Robbie’s done nothing but impress (until Tarzan, anyway). Plus – get this – the genuinely excellent Viola Davis takes on ringleader duties in a film that corrals all the nastiest bad guys for a black ops mission against a meta-human menace.

When Viola Davis can’t deliver, your movie is doomed.

Suicide Squad is doomed.

Writer/director David Ayer has quietly built a solid career with incrementally more thoughtful, more brooding, more violent action films. For those who thought the DC catastrophe Batman V Superman was dark, Ayer was the promise of something truly gritty.

And what more does he need? All the “worst of the worst” gathered together, leading a mission to save the world or die trying – and maybe die when they’re finished, because we certainly can’t let them out, right? They’re the worst of the worst!

Except for the one who really just wants to know his daughter’s OK. Or the one who’s reformed, his conscience keeping him from fighting this fight. Or the one who’s not bad, she’s just in love. Or the others who are absolutely useless to any mission and are here just to clutter up an over-packed, under-impressive landscape of bloodless action and uninspired set pieces.

Ayer has shown promise across his previous five films, but self-serious drama tends to be his undoing. Imagine how he struggles with tone in this would-be flippant exercise in comic book self-indulgence. Robbie and Smith try to instill some badass levity, but any success is due to their talent and timing because there’s not a single funny line in the film.

Leto’s little more than a glorified cameo in a landscape so overstuffed with needless characters that you’re almost distracted from the stunning plot holes and absence of narrative logic.

Suicide Squad is not going to save this disappointing summer – you should save yourself the aggravation.

Verdict-1-5-Stars