The Avengers (2012, Dir. Joss Whedon):
As summer blockbuster season more and more comes to resemble a mass assembly line of prefab parts and decision-by-committee styling, The Avengers stands out as a nifty piece of engineering. Stress the word “engineering,” because make no mistake, this is game-planned entertainment on a grand scale: start a handful of mega-successful superhero franchises under one studio umbrella (Marvel), then cram the entire crew together in a movie that is, like, the biggest extravaganza ever — or at least until the inevitable sequel. Cue boffo opening weekend at the box office, studio heads and marketers rubbing their hands together in glee, happy ever after. Given such a scenario, and keeping in mind how badly most big-time franchises are botched (Exhibit A: Transformers movies), we should count it as a blessing that The Avengers is more peppy little sports car than hulking (no pun intended), gas-guzzling Humvee.
We’ve reached the point where we can’t really expect surprises in our tentpole movies, and you won’t find any here: bad guys threaten safety of the planet, motley band of heroes must save the day, a few laughs, a few heartfelt moments, grand set-pieces, etcetera. But really, surprise isn’t the point; we know most comics end happily (or at least, most of the time), and any comic geek worth his or her salt knows that the true pleasure comes from the telling of the story, how art and dialogue converge, memorable moments preserved in panels like amber. While it isn’t a game-changer the way a classic graphic novel sometimes can be, The Avengers has two things going for it — a recognition that fun is still in the program, and the enjoyment it takes in the collisions of its offbeat stars. Take a gander at that cast list: Robert Downey Jr. (Tony Stark/Iron Man), Chris Evans (Steve Rogers/Captain America), Mark Ruffalo (Bruce Banner/The Hulk), Chris Hemsworth (Thor), Samuel L. Jackson (Nick Fury), Scarlett Johannson (Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow) and Jeremy Renner (Clint Barton/Hawkeye). It’s a crazy collection of the Good, the Bad, and the Indifferent, and if nothing else, writer/director Joss Whedon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly fame knows how to work the alchemy when it comes to sardonic banter and group dynamics.
It’s a good thing he does, too, because the actual plot is near-negligible: the trickster demi-god Loki (Tom Hiddleston, caught between a sneer and a whimper most of the film) is bent on conquering the human race to get back at his adopted brother Thor, and to achieve this end he seeks a power cube that will open the gateway to another dimension and unleash an awaiting, faceless horde of aliens. That’s enough plot to fill about a half-hour anime episode, and The Avengers stuffs the rest of its running time with incidents: nifty high tech gear (a aircraft carrier-cum-heliship), a few showstopping arias for each Marvel character (Captain America throws his mighty shield, Hulk smashes, Thor hammers, Iron Man zips through the skies), and a 45-minute finale in which New York City is nearly reduced to rubble (didn’t these folks suffer enough in Cloverfield)? And just to please the fanboys further, we get to see our favorite titans clash against each other. Ever wondered how a Thor-Hulk dust-up would go, or who would prevail in an Iron Man-Captain America-Thor three-way showdown? Wonder no more.
“Let’s do a head count here: your brother the demi-god; a super soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend; a man with breath-taking anger management issues; a couple of master assassins — and YOU, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”
All of the above is executed well enough, mercifully free of shaky cam and lens flares, and for a near two-and-a-half hour movie, Whedon ushers the proceedings along at an agreeable clip, refusing to belabor the details. Still, the sturm and drang numbs after a while — certain moments stand out (the Hulk’s confrontation with Loki has a terrific visual punch line) while others come and go with little resonance (we’re supposed to be immersed in Shakespearean pathos when Loki stabs Thor, but the incident has no weight). For all his ability to wring out epic plotlines in his TV shows, Whedon doesn’t have much to work with here when it comes to twists and reversals, and you won’t find any subtext to elevate the proceedings save Marvel’s intense desire to glorify its heroes (and don’t go looking for meaningful character development either).
Fortunately Whedon is more interested in the quirks his misfits possess — the more misfit the better — and most of the movie’s high points are nothing more than his super-offbeat protagonists sizing each other up, bantering or bickering. Take this exchange as an example of the Whedon imprint at work:
Bruce Banner: I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats. You can smell crazy on him.
Thor: Have a care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother.
Natasha Romanoff: He killed eighty people in two days.
Thor: He’s adopted.
Ruffalo, the third actor to play Bruce Banner in the past decade, gets to reinvent the character, slowballing his wit and anger, and walks away with the movie, while Scarlett Johannson’s Black Widow is reborn as a Buffy-licious fighter with a haunted past, which might not count as innovative, but it sure beats being asked to buy her as a slinky femme fatale (replete with gamy Russian accent). Tony Stark is the court jester in this assembly, gifted with some not-so-zingy one-liners this time around (most of his wit is restricted to poking fun at his new comrades, calling Thor “Point Break” and Hawkeye “Legolas”), but Downey’s sheer force of personality carries him through. Not faring as well is Evans as boy-scout earnest Captain America (straight-arrow heroes were never Whedon’s strong suit), Hemsworth as Thor (it’s tough to be a convincing demi-god when your theatrical diction clangs against Whedon’s preference for snark talk), and Jackson (the very definition of “phoning it in” as Director Fury). Still, three out of six isn’t bad.
Taking all this into account, was Avengers worth the wait, after all the supposedly careful groundwork laid by the five Marvel films that preceded it? Evidence is muddy: a smattering of plot points and characters are carried through from previous entries (Downey, with two Iron Man movies under his belt, gets most of the plot and character back story), but Kenneth Branagh’s Thor (2011), Joe Johnston’s Captain America (2011) and Louis Letterier’s Incredible Hulk (2008) have next to no impact on or link to the Avengers experience. The cynical among us will have the sneaking suspicion that the bulk of Marvel’s output has in effect been nothing more than an extended trailer for The Avengers, an overpriced toy set falsely advertised, and there is some truth to that thought. Still, for a film that will surely kick-start another round of mythmaking mania, the fact that The Avengers avoids being another rote, joyless franchise blockbuster, just barely, constitutes a victory, however minor one might take it that to be.
