Captain Marvel (2019, Dir. Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck):
In these politically-inflected times, movies are no longer just movies — and even superhero movies are no exception. What should we make of a female headlining a much-hyped superhero flick? Are we entering a new age of empowerment? Is this another case of rampant social justice warrior-ism? Or merely another example of canny product marketing? Regardless of what you choose to believe, any response to Captain Marvel, Marvel’s belated entry in the “women can be super bad-asses too” sweepstakes, has been front-loaded with expectations, suppositions and suspicions (much of it based on cast interview soundbites). Plenty of gutsy female heroes have featured in past movies and decades, but as cultural memories grow ever shorter — much to Hollywood’s delight, otherwise how could something old be presented as something new? — we get to hear it all once again. We haven’t seen a female hero and role model like this one. Standard movie-talk hyperbole, or an actual game-changer? Any film that gets tangled up with the larger national discourse on gender and equality becomes both more and less than what it is, and in this case, more was more than enough for Marvel Studios, going by Captain Marvel‘s box office.
All the more ironic, then, that even as Captain Marvel tries to ride the wave of the times, it is a throwback, both figuratively and literally. It’s set in the nineties, and in its off-hand approach and tone, it’s reminiscent of comic book movies pre-2000, when character and universe-building were less important than throwing a bunch of stuff onscreen in the hopes that something sticks. Without fanfare or tortured exposition, we’re thrust into the life of Vers (Brie Larson), a kick-ass Kree soldier under the tutelage of Yon-Rogg (Jude Law, alien eyes all aglow). Those with a grounding in the Marvel cinematic universe will prick up their ears at the mention of “Kree” (and a cameo from Guardians of the Galaxy‘s Lee Pace will seal the deal), but for the rest of us plebes, there’s nothing for it but to stick with Vers as she wrestles with cloudy, traumatic memories. “You have to let go of the past,” Yon-Rogg assures her, doing his best Obi-wan Kenobi. “There’s nothing more dangerous to a warrior than emotion.” When a rescue mission goes sidewise and Vers flees a threatening horde of shape-shifters known as the Skrulls, she crash-lands on a backwater planet designated C-53 (aka Earth). In the ensuing ruckus, secret identities are revealed (i.e., Vers is actually named Carol Danvers, and there’s a reason her fists can shoot energy bolts), destinies are set in motion, and an unseasoned, skeptical government operative named Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) will be given his first glimpse of a larger world of aliens and proto-Avengers.
Captain Marvel stays earthbound for the majority of its running time, mainly occupying itself with throwaway fish-out-of-water gags, not unlike the first Thor movie (whether you believe this is a sign that Marvel is running out of ideas is up to you). Danvers’ first encounter with humanity is a cardboard stand-up in a Blockbuster video store, and later she beats up an old granny on a subway train (a Skrull in disguise, fortunately). Meanwhile, Fury gets to play caretaker to a cute alien kitty named Goose, when he’s not getting stalked by Talos (Ben Mendehlson), a Skrull posing as his boss. Kitted out with a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt and a Top Gun flight jacket, Danvers eventually stumbles upon her true origins, and her rediscovery of her past merges with the plight of a trapped band of aliens who want nothing more than to go home themselves. Instead of the standard apocalyptic finale, we get soulful speeches about friendship and finding one’s place in the universe — and then we get a semi-apocalyptic battle in which the newly christened Captain Marvel finally struts her stuff.
Carol Danvers: Did you have a rough day, Agent Fury?
Nick Fury: It’s cool. You know. Had a space invasion, a big car chase, I got to watch an alien autopsy. Typical nine to five.
Captain Marvel‘s script was labored over by a gaggle of writers, including the directing duo of Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck (best known for Mississippi Grind). The result is a mushy agglomeration of plot points and jokes, as the leads are left to do what they can with the material. Larson plays it smirky and mischievous, with a hint of steel underneath, which is fair bit more characterization than what she’s provided with. “I know a rogue soldier when I see one,” Fury says to her at one point, but little in the screenplay gives heft to the statement. The rest of the females in the cast, including vivacious performers like Annette Bening, Lashana Lynch and Gemma Chan, are relegated to the sidelines. Mendelsohn adds a smidgen of wit as the Skrull savvy to Earth culture (“Hang on a second before you go swinging those jazz-hands around,” he warns off Captain Marvel), while Jackson, de-aged by CGI and skirting the edge of the uncanny valley, is properly bemused as Fury.
Bolden and Fleck keep the film chugging along, but show little in the way of directorial flair or finesse. You won’t find much substance in the story itself, which can’t decide whether it’s a snarky Guardians of the Galaxy-style comedy or an earnest take on superhero-ing, and ends up less-than-effective at both. We spend a bunch of time with gobbledygook concepts like a Kree “Supreme Intelligence” who comes off like a fancy virtual reality light show, or a secret “light-speed engine” which might as well be called the MacGuffin engine. Captain Marvel is essentially a Superman story for the age of female empowerment, but the movie doesn’t approach the Superman mythos in resonance or plain fun. The film’s best attempts at playfulness start and end with the undercooked buddy-buddy repartee between Danvers and Fury, and by the time No Doubt’s “Just a Girl” stutters to life while Captain Marvel kicks ass, you may well be more indifferent than annoyed.
“I want you to be the best version of yourself,” Yon-rogg says to Danvers early on; Captain Marvel is too flimsy a vehicle to show off anyone at their best, despite Larson’s efforts. Just agreeable enough and far from inspired, it’s another addition to the underpinnings of the Marvel universe that lacks the surprise or quirkiness of the studio’s better releases. No doubt audiences and cultural commentators will continue to argue about the film’s significance, which is an unlikely fate for what is essentially the most common genus of big-budget productions: a half-decent time killer.
