Avengers:Infinity War is simply a marvel

It doesn’t seem like ten years since Marvel took a gamble on Iron Man (2008) and launched what became the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And let’s not forget that it was a gamble; Iron Man was not a big-selling character with little in the way of an external profile, and its star was a man with a history of substance abuse, imprisonment, and other issues that had made him almost unemployable.

It was a big win for all concerned. Marvel emerged as a major studio while Robert Downey Jr. became the highest paid star in Hollywood and the linchpin of what became known as the MCU. Simply put Iron Man was a game changer and now ten years and 19 films later Avengers: Infinity War changes the game again.

I had always felt that the audience would grow tired of superhero movies for their own sake. The tagline for Superman (1978) was ‘You’ll believe a man can fly’ and we did, and that was the appeal. The superb performance by Christopher Reeve was a bonus.

Now we believe not only that a man can fly but also that he can shoot webs, burst into flames, emit power beams from his eyes, and do all manner of things. And what’s more we are pretty well inured to the magic of CGI now too. However, this film does manage to test the bounds of credulity with one scene in which a train is seen running through Waverley Station late at night; I know this is fantasy but, come on.

Anyway, in some respects there are parallels here with early cinema. The first ten years of moving pictures is characterised by the film historian Tom Gunning as ‘The Cinema of Attractions’. Simply, audiences were fascinated merely by the fact that they could see things move. Very quickly the attraction paled and they wanted more; in this case narrative. So the story film was born and cinema as we know it developed from there.

That, to me, is pretty much where we are now with the MCU, the DCU and even the Star Wars Universe. We are all spectacled out, we have become bored with sensation and we want a bit of substance. Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) was probably peak superhero for its own sake. I remember one scene in that film in which a whole country was being levitated and I neither knew why nor cared.

Now we want more; the super heroics are just another plot strand. Hence Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) becomes a high school movie, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) is a satirical comedy, and Black Panther (2018) is about racial empowerment.

In those terms Infinity War is the most ambitious and sophisticated film that Marvel has attempted. It is, for the most part, a triumph and the perfect way to mark the tenth anniversary of the MCU. It is a film about sacrifice and the nature of heroism; how much of what you love are you prepared to give up in achieving it?

What strikes you most is the scope and ambition of the piece. It is epic in almost every sense. Every significant MCU character is here – with two notable exceptions – and it’s a story that spans time and space. My fear for the film was that it would be over-stuffed but even with, by my count, 27 principal characters there’s little sense of people vying for screen time.

Credit must be given to screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeeley for the way they have handled the plot. The structure is an old-fashioned comic book trope in that the heroes are split into teams, sent across the universe on a quest, and then brought back for the big finale – Gardner Fox pioneered this in the Justice Society of America comics in the 40s and revived it with the Justice League in the Sixties. This makes the transitions between the scenes easier since the episodic nature and the fades to black mean you don’t have to worry too much about continuity editing; it’s like each quest is a mini movie.

The plot is essentially a treasure hunt. Thanos, the all-powerful ruler of Titan, wants control of the six Infinity Stones scattered across the galaxies – including parts of Edinburgh – so he can enact his plan to save the universe. Kudos to the production designers who have done a superb job in differentiating the locations, so you have no problem in orienting yourself; a major concern in a story this big.

The MCU has had a bit of an issue with satisfactory villains but Thanos delivers the goods. He’s a Nero-like figure; a tyrant who believes he is an artist and actually doing good. His lunatic plan has an underpinning of logic, albeit a twisted logic, and this allows Josh Brolin (above) to bring some nuance to the character. His Thanos operates with a great deal of forbearance; the Marvel heroes don’t really know what they’re doing in his eyes so they’re not wrong, just misguided.

The breadth and depth of the conflict throws up some surprises. Dr Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) turns out to be a lot more pivotal than perhaps you might have thought, and Thor (Chris Hemsworth), who has veered between a drunk and a blowhard in previous movies, is finally treated here with the power and majesty he deserves. Tom Holland’s Spider-Man also does well, and Mark Ruffalo brings an interesting dimension to his Hulk.

The pace of the film is impeccably managed. The rhythm of Markus and McFeeley’s script allows moments of humour and pathos between the action scenes. The battle sequences themselves are directed with deceptive ease by the Russo brothers in a manner that looks exactly like the best of Marvel’s comics output.

The two and a half hour running time flies in and even though this is only the first half of a longer story, there is a sense of completeness about it. There is the cliff-hanger to end all cliff-hangers but there is also hope which comes in a post-credits sequence which absolutely should not be missed.

Dwayne Johnson and a giant gorilla...what's not to like?

One of my favourite critics is the late Richard Schickel who was the film review for Time magazine from 1965 until 2010. He turned a fine phrase but the one that really stuck in my mind is from his review of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984), in which he said ‘you can’t criticise a theme park for not being a cathedral’. A rather elegant way of suggesting, quite rightly, that each film has to be judged on what it is and not what you would like it to be.

So to Rampage which, to paraphrase Popeye since we are in the mood for quoting, is what it is and that’s all that it is. But it is also a very good example of what it is.

There’s a certain disdain about films like this which, to my mind, is entirely misplaced. I once interviewed an award-winning actor at the Berlin Film Festival who was very sniffy about what they called ‘industrial film-making’, preferring to bask in the adulation of the art house set. Of course that actor rather neglected the fact that industrial film making is the engine that drives the train and allows them the luxury of their art house indulgence. Just to round off this story, that same actor wasn’t backward in coming forward when Marvel came to call. Just saying.

What people tend to overlook is that the quality of craft skills and technical excellence required to make a movie like Rampage is phenomenal. There are extraordinary levels of skill involved and it is evident in every frame if you take the trouble to look.

Inspired by a video game the film features Dwayne Johnson battling three giant creatures – an albino gorilla, a wolf, and a crocodile – or possibly an alligator, they’re a bit vague on species specifics. All three have all been grotesquely mutated by exposure to a genetic pathogen created by evil business tycoons Malin Akerman and Jake Lacy who plan to monetize the disastrous consequences.  This is essentially a Hollywood version of the Japanese kaiju – giant creature – genre.

The dramatic tension, such as it is, comes from the fact that the rampaging gorilla, George, is Johnson’s closest friend. The Special Forces agent turned primatologist rescued him from poachers; he has raised George from a child, bonding with him, and teaching him sign language scatology the better to conduct their bromance.

You may have found that last sentence a little implausible but the sheer joy of Rampage is that things like this are accepted as though they are the most natural in the world. A talented cast deliver huge chunks of exposition without batting an eyelid and it takes a degree of skill to expound this dialogue without the rather craven trick of nodding and winking to the audience. They all know exactly what is required, terse but implausible dialogue delivered with a straight face and an acting style just the right side of pantomime.

Malin Ackerman is suitably black-hearted as the sort of woman who would make Cruella De Vil feel uncomfortable, and she is rewarded with the kind of exit not seen since Die Hard (1988). Government agent Jeffrey Dean Morgan – a good old boy complete with cowboy drawl and a pearl-handled Colt – is plainly having the time of his life, while good-hearted scientist Naomie Harris just looks puzzled a lot. Although to Rampage’s credit, she doesn’t need saving, she is generally pro-active, and has an awful lot more agency in her character arc than she does as Moneypenny in the Bond franchise.

Of course the film trades heavily, as it should, on Johnson’s considerable personal charm. Just as an aside I wonder why he is so much more appealing against fantasy villains here and in Jumanji (2017) than against real-world villainy in a rare misfire like Baywatch (2017).

The pieces of the film take a while to come together but once we get the halfway point and the triple kaiju smack-down, set piece follows set piece with relentless vigour. Credit to San Andreas (2015) director Brad Peyton who’s now on his third film with Johnson, this stuff is hard to do but he does it well. If you don’t believe me then look at the bleached bones of the failures in this least forgiving of genres. John Carter anyone? Battleship? Tomb Raider?

To go back to where we came in, Rampage isn’t a cathedral nor does it try to be. However as a theme park ride it is definitely worth the price of a ticket.

Ready Player One doesnt score many points

It seems to me there’s a dichotomy between cinema and video games. It’s to do with immersion. In cinema the audience enjoys a collective experience in which it really has no agency, whereas with a video game the player gets to have genuine agency in the outcome. One is a much more immersive experience than the other.

I’ve never understood why gamers watch others play when they could just as easily be playing themselves; hence I don’t get the appeal of e-sports but then I suspect I’m not supposed to. But this dichotomy is at the centre of Steven Spielberg’s Ready Player One which for all its CGI folderols is an empty, soulless, heavy-handed piece of fantasy cinema.

It is essentially Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for the PS4 generation. In the not too distant future – 2045 – the world has gone to hell in a handcart. The reasons aren’t explained too clearly, like so many things in this film, but the bandwidth wars – whatever they are – have something to do with it. Given that our real world sucks, we have all retreated into a cyber world, a Virtual Reality construct called The Oasis where we live and game as avatars.

The creator of this VR paradise James Halliday (Mark Rylance) has died but has left a video telling the world that whoever finds the Easter Egg, the hidden treasure, at the heart of The Oasis will win his fortune and control of the VR world. The Hi-Five a gang of gamers led by Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), in the best traditions of Spielberg films an abandoned orphan, want to change their lives by finding the Golden Egg. However nasty corporate boss Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn) wants to stop them and control The Oasis for himself. Like I said, Willy Wonka in cyberspace.

Ready Player One for me was heavy-handed and clunky. The plot lurches from the VR world to the real world with little rhyme or reason. The fact that there is an almost constant voice-over telling you what’s happening is an indication of its narrative weakness. Things happen because they happen, there’s no cohesion or internal logic to anything.

The characters are generic and unappealing. Also, since more than half of the film takes place in The Oasis, they are computer generated avatars. This takes us into the realm of the Uncanny Valley and no matter how much anime technique they use on the eyes, they still look weird and difficult to engage with.

Similarly, because they are avatars there are no real stakes; they can’t die they just zero out and all of the credits they have amassed disappear. What happens to these people IRL as it were when they lose all their credits is never explored.

Indeed, many areas that might make Ready Player One a more interesting story are never explored. How does a society function when everyone is in VR? What happens in a world where debts can be bought by corporations and people turned into indentured slaves? Or a world where no one appears to eat, sleep or work? How does the VR existence interface with the real one?

Spielberg and his writers Zak Penn and Ernest Cline – the author of the YA best seller on which the film is based – have done a pretty poor job of world building both sociologically and geographically. The only surprising thing about the world of 2045 is that it has a police force and they reliably turn up just when the plot demands that they do.

Instead of creating a believable landscape they have instead crammed in as many Eighties pop culture references as possible. You’ll have seen them in the trailer, which should have been a big clue to the film’s lack of narrative. In the first car chase for example you’ll spot the 66 Batmobile, the A-Team van, the Back to the Future DeLorean, Kitt from Knight Rider not to mention King Kong and the Jurassic Park T Rex.

But this is all empty spectacle which replaces narrative. Characters pop up like the movie-making equivalent of shouting ‘look, a squirrel’! It’s over-stuffed to the point of satiation. Sure, there’s a fanboy pleasure in seeing Gundam fighting MechaGodzilla, but there are just too many of them; the film is relentless in its cultural references. They’re not there to serve the plot, as in the similarly-themed by much better Wreck-It Ralph (2012), they are just there because they are there.

Earlier this month Spielberg gave an interview to the Associated Press in which he said he wouldn’t know how to make a full VR movie because ‘I don’t have as much control over where the audience is looking…I’m not sure it’s a storytelling medium’. With this film he rather proves his own point.

The one thing that struck me about Ready Player One were the endless references to other, better films like The Shining. There are also persistent references and shout-outs to Robert Zemeckis of Back to the Future fame. That’s when I realised that the real Easter Egg at the heart of this story is that it has the wrong director – Zemeckis is a much better fit for this movie, with a much lighter touch, and it’s a shame he couldn’t have been persuaded.

In the end Ready Player One is a film about the inevitable triumph of pop culture which suggests that in the coming bandwidth wars we are all going to lose.