A curiously ambivalent reaction
The Captain America trailer has, finally, come out. By which I mean the internet leaked it two days before it would probably be playing in front of Sucker Punch. Which I will see next week and then I can see the trailer on the big screen and, hopefully, have an opinion about it.
For something I've been anticipating this long--movie and trailer both--and that has, thus far, with every new still, excited me beyond socially acceptable levels, I'm not sure what to make of this trailer. I'm kind of wigged out by the weakling-Rogers version of Chris Evans. There's a total mental disconnect in my brain between my filing of Chris Evans under "Hotties, Superheroes" and what's in that trailer. It's a bit of an Uncanny Valley issue, too.
On the other hand, there's phenomenal tone to this movie that I think could possibly make it legitimately excellent. There's some real emphasis on grounding the Cap's otherwise unworldly (out-of-his-time-ly) goodness and compassion in his origins as a 98-pound weakling, which I like. The shots of the Hydra soldiers (AND HUGO WEAVING AS RED SKULL ZOMG THAT LOOKS AMAZING) are good, though there are parts of the trailer that look more Sky Captain than Captain America, which could make WWII a little too unworldly, even for comic-book-movie levels of worldliness. There's something ominous in this trailer. Whether it will be secretly amazing as the tone of the trailer suggests or entirely too earnest to poll well with today's cynical audiences is as yet unknown. It's possible that my ambivalence is actually fear and excitement. Instead of being cheesecake, this could be good, which makes me even more worried. Why, I cannot say.
I will confess that I squealed in the trailer when the Love Interest asks the post-dosed Steve Rogers how he feels, and then she, almost without being able to help herself, immediately reaches out to touch him. Then almost as quickly, just having grazed those uh-MAZE-ing pectorals, she draws a hand back. You can almost see her saying to herself, "DAAAAAAAAY-UM." And then she and her lascivious inner self start high-fiving each other and making plans single-handedly fund the Allies by buying up alllllllll the condoms.
(I saw that. Tell me you saw that.)
The title of this post might also refer to the wedding I'm headed to in a few hours time. I'm so over going already, and I haven't even left. I should just keep telling myself "Eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees and sunny" until it seems more appealing. It's hard going, though, seeing as I have an hour and a half layover in Atlanta, which might rival L.A. for places I like the least. Nothing against the city (though, yes, against the city in L.A.'s case), just the airport is a hellhole. Eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees...
For something I've been anticipating this long--movie and trailer both--and that has, thus far, with every new still, excited me beyond socially acceptable levels, I'm not sure what to make of this trailer. I'm kind of wigged out by the weakling-Rogers version of Chris Evans. There's a total mental disconnect in my brain between my filing of Chris Evans under "Hotties, Superheroes" and what's in that trailer. It's a bit of an Uncanny Valley issue, too.
On the other hand, there's phenomenal tone to this movie that I think could possibly make it legitimately excellent. There's some real emphasis on grounding the Cap's otherwise unworldly (out-of-his-time-ly) goodness and compassion in his origins as a 98-pound weakling, which I like. The shots of the Hydra soldiers (AND HUGO WEAVING AS RED SKULL ZOMG THAT LOOKS AMAZING) are good, though there are parts of the trailer that look more Sky Captain than Captain America, which could make WWII a little too unworldly, even for comic-book-movie levels of worldliness. There's something ominous in this trailer. Whether it will be secretly amazing as the tone of the trailer suggests or entirely too earnest to poll well with today's cynical audiences is as yet unknown. It's possible that my ambivalence is actually fear and excitement. Instead of being cheesecake, this could be good, which makes me even more worried. Why, I cannot say.
I will confess that I squealed in the trailer when the Love Interest asks the post-dosed Steve Rogers how he feels, and then she, almost without being able to help herself, immediately reaches out to touch him. Then almost as quickly, just having grazed those uh-MAZE-ing pectorals, she draws a hand back. You can almost see her saying to herself, "DAAAAAAAAY-UM." And then she and her lascivious inner self start high-fiving each other and making plans single-handedly fund the Allies by buying up alllllllll the condoms.
(I saw that. Tell me you saw that.)
The title of this post might also refer to the wedding I'm headed to in a few hours time. I'm so over going already, and I haven't even left. I should just keep telling myself "Eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees and sunny" until it seems more appealing. It's hard going, though, seeing as I have an hour and a half layover in Atlanta, which might rival L.A. for places I like the least. Nothing against the city (though, yes, against the city in L.A.'s case), just the airport is a hellhole. Eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees and sunny, eighty degrees...