Avengers: Age of Ultron, take one
tl;dr: liked it okay, didn't love
This is first because it is most important: this movie is completely and utterly forgettable and that is its greatest sin. There's nothing that stands out, no great scene, no great line, no great emotion drawn out of the audience. It's there and then it is not. It is the price paid for being so busy, although the business is largely carried off in the moment. Afterward, however, the sound and fury signifies nothing.
What I did like:
* James Spader, who has that glorious voice and turned Ultron into so much more than The Robot Villain with the mechanical mustache to twirl. Nor was he just Tony, corrupted and writ large. He was his own thing and glorious in it, compelling on a personal level.
* Wanda, which surprised the heck out of me because I'm no fan of Wanda in the books. Wanda written well is a force of terrifying power, all the more so because she's been broken for and by that power. Wanda written badly is either a psychopath or a self-pitying wretch you wish someone would put out of her misery. Here, Wanda is written well. She has agency from the get-go -- she volunteered to be changed, she chose to follow Ultron, and she chose to leave Ultron and join the Avengers -- and she never relinquishes it. Her needing a pep-talk from Hawkeye does not diminish her agency; in a dark and terrifying moment she gets support, not a set of orders she must obey. A woman can be strong and still want comfort, especially if that comfort is the assurance that she's doing the right thing. Natasha asks for that comfort and assurance all of the time and it does not make her less for it. Wanda was great.
* Clint, not just for getting actual lines to speak. I've always been fond of the Ultimates (first series only) version of him -- a dozen years ago, I was writing him as family man and SHIELD agent, complete with Aunt Nat coming over for dinner with the family. I used the same characterization when I started writing him in the MCU, the stealth sane person and the one who has functioned in a family environment and found comfort in it and reads people really, really well because he's around people. The Clint I saw is the one I wrote in BOHICA and Thaw and Field Trip and that makes me happy, at least on the ego level. :)
* The Avengers fight like a team that has actually practiced fighting like a team. You don't know how pleased this makes me.
* Bruce, who is written and played with remarkable nuance by Whedon and Ruffalo respectively, with one glaring exception that I'll get to later. Bruce is someone who knows himself, knows his weaknesses, who can master himself and sometimes chooses not to. It's not a fight between Banner and The Hulk, between Bruce and the Other Guy. It's between Bruce and Bruce, between choosing what he knows he should do that's best for others and what he wants for himself. He knows that following Tony down the Ultron rabbit hole will lead to terrible things, but his intellectual thirst is so great that not only does he do it once, he also does it again even after seeing the disastrous results of the last fall. Tony doesn't have to twist his arm very far and his choices aren't governed by necessity; they are governed by desire to find out what happens next. Similarly and yet completely dissimilarly, he knows that starting something with Natasha will be dangerous for far more reasons than the chance of a broken heart, and yet he lets himself fall because he wants. And then he pulls back, he chooses to punish himself by protecting everyone else, perhaps because he feels that that way everyone gets what they deserve and nobody else will make that happen but him.
* Steve, for the first two hours and fifteen minutes of the movie. He's sarcastic and sassy, but he's also wise and a good field leader and, in the party scene in general but especially that conversation with Bruce at the bar, a complex grown man and not the uniformed boyscout manchild fanon sometimes likes to turn him into. He wears his grief better than he did in CA:TWS, how could he not, but while it's still there, he's more than just the gaping chasm of what he has lost.
* The relatively graceful segue into Captain America: Civil War. Tony doesn't mean to become the villain, but as Wanda says, he can't see the line that he's not supposed to cross between salvation and destruction. He's arrogant, he's genius, and he has yet to be proven wrong in a way that can't be undone. He saw a vision of horrible destruction, the death of his team and the world, and he stopped that from occurring. The Vision didn't turn out to be evil, he turned out to be goodness incarnate and stopped Ultron, Tony's previous error in judgment. It's been a long time since Yinsen and, since the cave, Tony hasn't had to pay a price steep enough to relearn humility in a bone-deep way. All of this was reinforced throughout the movie, but with so much else going on, it didn't feel like a sledgehammer, which is about all we can expect.
.. and what I did not like:
* The CGI battles that look like CGI battles. The opening five minutes of the movie, the entire group battle, could have gone missing and the movie would have been better for it. They could have saved the money for the effects and paid to get Paltrow (and maybe Portman, but especially Paltrow because Pepper's absence was more acutely felt) for a cameo. Same thing with the group shot near the end. I get it's a Thing, but it's a Thing that breaks the flow because it looks staged and ridiculous in a way that is different from the staged ridiculousness of the premise and just makes everything look goofy.
* The Steve of the last five minutes. "I'm home," especially. The Steve who looks squarely in the face of all he once was and wanted to be, and turns away from it. I refuse to believe that Steve, who understood in the last movie that being a warrior in the 21st Century was really him in mourning, lost and afraid, has decided that no, that's who he wants to be and screw having a life, screw 'family and stability' a couple of days after seeing La Famille Barton. I'm fine with him staying in uniform, but I resent that I will have to work to get this man to look like the one who repeatedly acted out "best friend at my side or death." Maybe this is more set up for Civil War, one more life for them to strip away from him. Maybe this is him reacting to the Wanda-induced nightmare in a quieter way than everyone else did. Maybe this is Whedon trying to edge Cap more toward the guy from the comics who lived in his team's housing and has no outside life and away from the guy from the comics who made a good faith effort at a civilian life, be it living in Brooklyn or dating Bernie Rosenthal. Whatever the reason, I got really annoyed.
* The end of the Bruce-Natasha procreation discussion. I am extremely okay with Natasha's fertility being a discussion point. I am extremely okay with her feeling like less of a woman, less of a romantic partner, because she can't have children and with resenting that that choice was taken from her. Especially in her best friend's home where she is Auntie Nat and Laura Barton is carrying her namesake and she's standing in a room with the man she is falling in love with. That's a valid -- and very real -- response, regardless of objective truth value and her feeling that way does not reduce her to brood mare status or diminish her in any way or indicate that Whedon is a misogynist pig for writing it. I think 'monster' is overstating it and a poor word choice, but try telling a woman who really wants to bear children but can't that they're not defective and see how far you get. Where this conversation failed -- completely and utterly and absolutely failed -- was in Bruce not even trying. His response, his only possible response, to her calling herself a monster should have been to contradict her, however privately he might have been relieved. He didn't, so what should have been a really interesting character scene ended on the sourest of notes. That is where Whedon shat the bed.
* Thor, who rode way too close to the Pop Tarts and shoutiness of fanon for me to be comfortable when he wasn't the avatar of the Exposition Fairy. And who then conveniently flew off to get out of the way of the next movie.
* Pietro's death. Whedon went to the well once too often this time, even if it was a dare to Feige to undead Pietro the way they undeaded Coulson. Coulson's death mattered because he'd become a fan favorite and we were vested in him and then Fury found a way to vest the characters, who mostly didn't know him. Pietro didn't have enough time for either characters or viewers to build a relationship that his loss resonated. If Whedon wanted to kill someone because that's his totem, he should have killed the Helicarrier tech who survived Rumlow in CA:TWS to return here.
* The parts of the prelude to Civil War that were unsubtle as hell, which included every time Steve and Tony referred to each other as a friend without ever showing us a moment of friendship. Tony's friendships were with Bruce and Rhodey; Steve had his with Natasha and Sam. The two of them called each other friend, but it was a friendship off camera because all they ever did on screen was fight.
* That the Vision killed Ultron and that he did it away from everyone else, possibly without their knowledge. It was a lovely scene with meaningful words, but I think it would have been better served if the Avengers had been witnesses.
Also posted at DW.
This is first because it is most important: this movie is completely and utterly forgettable and that is its greatest sin. There's nothing that stands out, no great scene, no great line, no great emotion drawn out of the audience. It's there and then it is not. It is the price paid for being so busy, although the business is largely carried off in the moment. Afterward, however, the sound and fury signifies nothing.
What I did like:
* James Spader, who has that glorious voice and turned Ultron into so much more than The Robot Villain with the mechanical mustache to twirl. Nor was he just Tony, corrupted and writ large. He was his own thing and glorious in it, compelling on a personal level.
* Wanda, which surprised the heck out of me because I'm no fan of Wanda in the books. Wanda written well is a force of terrifying power, all the more so because she's been broken for and by that power. Wanda written badly is either a psychopath or a self-pitying wretch you wish someone would put out of her misery. Here, Wanda is written well. She has agency from the get-go -- she volunteered to be changed, she chose to follow Ultron, and she chose to leave Ultron and join the Avengers -- and she never relinquishes it. Her needing a pep-talk from Hawkeye does not diminish her agency; in a dark and terrifying moment she gets support, not a set of orders she must obey. A woman can be strong and still want comfort, especially if that comfort is the assurance that she's doing the right thing. Natasha asks for that comfort and assurance all of the time and it does not make her less for it. Wanda was great.
* Clint, not just for getting actual lines to speak. I've always been fond of the Ultimates (first series only) version of him -- a dozen years ago, I was writing him as family man and SHIELD agent, complete with Aunt Nat coming over for dinner with the family. I used the same characterization when I started writing him in the MCU, the stealth sane person and the one who has functioned in a family environment and found comfort in it and reads people really, really well because he's around people. The Clint I saw is the one I wrote in BOHICA and Thaw and Field Trip and that makes me happy, at least on the ego level. :)
* The Avengers fight like a team that has actually practiced fighting like a team. You don't know how pleased this makes me.
* Bruce, who is written and played with remarkable nuance by Whedon and Ruffalo respectively, with one glaring exception that I'll get to later. Bruce is someone who knows himself, knows his weaknesses, who can master himself and sometimes chooses not to. It's not a fight between Banner and The Hulk, between Bruce and the Other Guy. It's between Bruce and Bruce, between choosing what he knows he should do that's best for others and what he wants for himself. He knows that following Tony down the Ultron rabbit hole will lead to terrible things, but his intellectual thirst is so great that not only does he do it once, he also does it again even after seeing the disastrous results of the last fall. Tony doesn't have to twist his arm very far and his choices aren't governed by necessity; they are governed by desire to find out what happens next. Similarly and yet completely dissimilarly, he knows that starting something with Natasha will be dangerous for far more reasons than the chance of a broken heart, and yet he lets himself fall because he wants. And then he pulls back, he chooses to punish himself by protecting everyone else, perhaps because he feels that that way everyone gets what they deserve and nobody else will make that happen but him.
* Steve, for the first two hours and fifteen minutes of the movie. He's sarcastic and sassy, but he's also wise and a good field leader and, in the party scene in general but especially that conversation with Bruce at the bar, a complex grown man and not the uniformed boyscout manchild fanon sometimes likes to turn him into. He wears his grief better than he did in CA:TWS, how could he not, but while it's still there, he's more than just the gaping chasm of what he has lost.
* The relatively graceful segue into Captain America: Civil War. Tony doesn't mean to become the villain, but as Wanda says, he can't see the line that he's not supposed to cross between salvation and destruction. He's arrogant, he's genius, and he has yet to be proven wrong in a way that can't be undone. He saw a vision of horrible destruction, the death of his team and the world, and he stopped that from occurring. The Vision didn't turn out to be evil, he turned out to be goodness incarnate and stopped Ultron, Tony's previous error in judgment. It's been a long time since Yinsen and, since the cave, Tony hasn't had to pay a price steep enough to relearn humility in a bone-deep way. All of this was reinforced throughout the movie, but with so much else going on, it didn't feel like a sledgehammer, which is about all we can expect.
.. and what I did not like:
* The CGI battles that look like CGI battles. The opening five minutes of the movie, the entire group battle, could have gone missing and the movie would have been better for it. They could have saved the money for the effects and paid to get Paltrow (and maybe Portman, but especially Paltrow because Pepper's absence was more acutely felt) for a cameo. Same thing with the group shot near the end. I get it's a Thing, but it's a Thing that breaks the flow because it looks staged and ridiculous in a way that is different from the staged ridiculousness of the premise and just makes everything look goofy.
* The Steve of the last five minutes. "I'm home," especially. The Steve who looks squarely in the face of all he once was and wanted to be, and turns away from it. I refuse to believe that Steve, who understood in the last movie that being a warrior in the 21st Century was really him in mourning, lost and afraid, has decided that no, that's who he wants to be and screw having a life, screw 'family and stability' a couple of days after seeing La Famille Barton. I'm fine with him staying in uniform, but I resent that I will have to work to get this man to look like the one who repeatedly acted out "best friend at my side or death." Maybe this is more set up for Civil War, one more life for them to strip away from him. Maybe this is him reacting to the Wanda-induced nightmare in a quieter way than everyone else did. Maybe this is Whedon trying to edge Cap more toward the guy from the comics who lived in his team's housing and has no outside life and away from the guy from the comics who made a good faith effort at a civilian life, be it living in Brooklyn or dating Bernie Rosenthal. Whatever the reason, I got really annoyed.
* The end of the Bruce-Natasha procreation discussion. I am extremely okay with Natasha's fertility being a discussion point. I am extremely okay with her feeling like less of a woman, less of a romantic partner, because she can't have children and with resenting that that choice was taken from her. Especially in her best friend's home where she is Auntie Nat and Laura Barton is carrying her namesake and she's standing in a room with the man she is falling in love with. That's a valid -- and very real -- response, regardless of objective truth value and her feeling that way does not reduce her to brood mare status or diminish her in any way or indicate that Whedon is a misogynist pig for writing it. I think 'monster' is overstating it and a poor word choice, but try telling a woman who really wants to bear children but can't that they're not defective and see how far you get. Where this conversation failed -- completely and utterly and absolutely failed -- was in Bruce not even trying. His response, his only possible response, to her calling herself a monster should have been to contradict her, however privately he might have been relieved. He didn't, so what should have been a really interesting character scene ended on the sourest of notes. That is where Whedon shat the bed.
* Thor, who rode way too close to the Pop Tarts and shoutiness of fanon for me to be comfortable when he wasn't the avatar of the Exposition Fairy. And who then conveniently flew off to get out of the way of the next movie.
* Pietro's death. Whedon went to the well once too often this time, even if it was a dare to Feige to undead Pietro the way they undeaded Coulson. Coulson's death mattered because he'd become a fan favorite and we were vested in him and then Fury found a way to vest the characters, who mostly didn't know him. Pietro didn't have enough time for either characters or viewers to build a relationship that his loss resonated. If Whedon wanted to kill someone because that's his totem, he should have killed the Helicarrier tech who survived Rumlow in CA:TWS to return here.
* The parts of the prelude to Civil War that were unsubtle as hell, which included every time Steve and Tony referred to each other as a friend without ever showing us a moment of friendship. Tony's friendships were with Bruce and Rhodey; Steve had his with Natasha and Sam. The two of them called each other friend, but it was a friendship off camera because all they ever did on screen was fight.
* That the Vision killed Ultron and that he did it away from everyone else, possibly without their knowledge. It was a lovely scene with meaningful words, but I think it would have been better served if the Avengers had been witnesses.
Also posted at DW.