If you asked almost anyone about my film-watching preferences, you’d probably be greeted with a blank stare because obviously most people have no idea who I am. That aside, I’ve no problem admitting that I’m not very good with keeping up with contemporary Hollywood. There are a variety of reasons for that, but it mostly boils down to their product being really unappealing to me. Still, it’s a good idea to keep an eye on things because cinema has an obvious social dimension that doesn’t quite work when I sit on my sofa all day watching Netflix.
So it was quite handy when a recent office outing centred on a trip to see the latest ‘Marvel Universe’ movie, Joss Whedon’s, The Avengers: Age of Ultron. I was certainly game, because it was on company-time and the film is super-fucking long, but I had some reservations. Primarily, I hadn’t actually watched any of the preceding ten movies already released in this seemingly unstoppable franchise that continues, like some kind of anti-diversity black-hole, to suck up the time on all the screens in every cinema in the world. So, since all the films make a point of being vaguely interconnected, I figured I should rectify my lack of familiarity. Also, I had a very open schedule that week.
So, over the course of seven days, I watched eleven full superhero movies. Now sure, I could write about what I thought about each one of them, but that would be very long and honestly, considering how similar all the films are, it hardly seems necessary. In broad terms, the series is enjoyable, but entirely forgettable- which helpfully loads the bases for fast food similes that you can now easily draw for yourself, because I’m just too lazy. There’s an oddly disconcerting element to this format whereby each film is absolutely loaded with intricate action sequences and yet virtually nothing actually stands out to the viewer. The action somehow manages to continually be simultaneously both overwhelming and disappointing.
Certainly, credit must go to stuntman extraordinaire, Spiros Razatos, whose skills shone through to make about twenty minutes of Captain America: The Winter Soldier as exciting as the entirety of Maniac Cop 2 – the franchise on which Razatos really cut his teeth – and to Shane Black, whose pithy humour pulls several smirks out of Iron Man 3 despite the entire film coasting on a giant MacGuffin – Stark’s “destroyed” power-suits re-emerge unscathed for the finale – that the film makes no effort to disguise, but generally speaking there’s very little return on the no-doubt obscene amount of money initially invested. Still, I basically enjoyed each film even though I can’t imagine I’ll ever want to watch any of them again. Just as well they keep churning them out then, right?
So it seems the best way to sum them up is on their own level, as different shades of a whole, as shiny simulacra of adolescent fantasy, or just as Top Trumps cards. Yeah, that’s probably quicker. Now sure, I don’t think Top Trumps are as popular as they were when I was a lad, but I have skillfully avoided that fact by simply not heeding reality.
If you don’t know how to play, someone who contributes to Wikipedia is far more helpful than I’ll ever be. Basically, keep going until someone either wins all the cards or the annoying kid who actually owns the deck but who everyone hates gets in a huff and storms off with the lot.
Enjoy.
Concentric Ocelot Party 