Monday, May 7, 2012

The Avengers (needs more Batman)

There are a lot of words floating around about how staggering it is that The Avengers movie was even allowed to happen.  And yet more about how stunningly good a movie it was in the face of seemingly everything working against it.  Both things are true, but I'll leave the former miracle for someone who's more of a Marvel fan to, erm... marvel about.

The Avengers is the definition of everyone's favorite adjective for this type of film: "fun."  It's fun and it's exciting and it's extremely satisfying (favorite bit: Hulk hilariously beating the shit out of Loki).  It's everything comic book fans dreamed and has almost everything a casual summer movie-going audience could want.  It effectively balanced the four or five or six separate characters--and added two or three more to boot--giving each one the time they needed, with every one shining at least once or twice and no one getting shafted.  Most impressively, Avengers is a film that could stand on its own, neither requiring the last five films (Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, Iron Man 2, Thor, Captain America: The First Avenger) for context, nor laboring over back stories for those who might've missed out; having seen the others helps marginally, but is in no way mandatory.  The movie even avoided--or downplayed--some of the other potential pitfalls I was worried about.  Top of the list: the Whedonisms.  They were there, of course, in all their pithy charm and grating neediness.  A verbal spat amongst the members of the group halfway through the film starts out as a great dialogue scene, snappy and gripping, before descending into an overlong "look at Joss write and write and write."  And simple bits of powerful dialogue sometimes got weighed down with unnecessary explanation (Banner's explanation of his suicide attempt) and some overwrought comic booky dialogue (Stark's "avenging the Earth" line, which Downey sold like a champ, though not even he had the charisma to pull it off).  I realize that those last few sentences are irrational on my part and more than likely have something to do with my natural inclination to disproportionally highlight Whedon's negatives because... someone needs to, I guess (a post for another time).  But the fact remains that the movie is great and the stuff I said above about the being fun and successfully balancing the ensemble cast is probably 75% Whedon's doing, with his comic book background and subsequent love and affection for these characters.  The movie came together so beautifully because of him, not in spite of him.

You don't care about my grade, but because I might as well: A-.  We'll see how it holds up on multiple viewings.  The loss of the full "A" has something to do with a probably unfair anticipatory comparison.  Because we'll have another superhero movie later this summer aiming not merely for popcorn fun, but for something much more.

For me, Avengers is an appetizer for The Dark Knight RisesAvengers was the movie that needed to open the summer; it's big, explosive, and fun--there's that word again--and that's how people want to kick off the month of May, as the weather warms up and they prepare for the joys of summer they remember from childhood (even if they're now working adults and haven't had a proper summer vacation in five years or ten or twenty).  One cannot watch this and think that TDKR will be Avengers fun.  And I'm fine with that.  In part because these Batman films have not gone for the same type of feel (perhaps excepting Batman Begins, but that was never Avengers territory) and also because I prefer the grittier--bordering on foreboding--type of story that Christopher Nolan has put together.  One story celebrates superhero exploits in all their blood-pumping glory.  The other explores the psychological and philosophical ramifications of those exploits and satisfies the superego as much as it does the id.  One seeks to provide momentary escapism from the uncertainty of the modern world.  The other holds a mirror up to the uncertainty, a bat-themed commentary on the state of the nation.  One unabashedly screams "Make Mine Marvel!"  The other is Batman, brooding on a rooftop.  The superhero genre has room for both. 

Phrasing it as a "debate" between the films is a little overblown, but the philosophies are worlds apart and deserve a comparative evaluation.  The Marvel movie universe has been all about popcorn fun and, for the most part, succeeded wildly especially with this most recent one.  Nolan's Batman, on the other hand, has taken the gritty route, something Batman is uniquely suited for.  A regular man (if insanely wealthy and perhaps also psychotic) choosing to become a superhero not because he was born with or acquired special powers, but because he has the means, the motive, and the opportunity.  Iron Man is similar, but even he has his high-tech robo-suit (and though a grittier take on Tony Stark would be possible, Marvel Studios has preferred to plant him firmly in the fun camp).  Batman is very much vulnerable to even the most pedestrian weapons--guns, knives, lethal laughing gas, etc.  Which brings up a point many have pondered before: why would someone do this without actual superpowers?  Well, put simply, it makes him badass.  And not Wolverine's "I can't die, so where's the dramatic threat?" badassery, either.  Batman is a mortal being who devotes himself so thoroughly to his mission that he can regularly hang with the likes of Superman.  Something every comics fan knows about Batman: given time to prepare, he can take anybody.  He is forged by a world that looks very much like our own--give or take a few homicidal clowns.  But when he needs to step up to fight intergalactic threats, he will.  And he'll hold his own in those battles.  Because he's Batman.  That's badassery and its why, superpowers or no, he's the most recognizable and, arguably, popular superhero the world over.  It's what makes him not only my favorite superhero, but my favorite fictional character period.  

But examined in any semi-realistic context (with which one would never examine, say, Thor), it brings up some uncomfortable truths about what this character would have to be.  Rather than use his fortune to improve the lives of the less fortunate, or hire Gotham's thugs at Wayne Enterprises and keep them off the streets, he spends his nights spying on citizens and beating up, torturing, and generally scaring the hell out of criminals--even the low level ones.  At some point, his very mission becomes quixotic, and possibly self-defeating; Batman may be as responsible for his villains' existence as they themselves are.  And if you're going to have a film franchise specifically highlighting Batman's relative plausibility, you eventually have to address the fact that not only will he not be necessarily popular, but that he might not even be necessarily right.  Much as the concept confuses Robert Downey, Jr., heroics are sometimes not enough.  A man without godlike powers sometimes needs to accept what he can't do and stop being the hero.  This requires a kind of reflection that Avengers never attempts--wisely; it indulges a world where people "believe in heroes."  There would be no room for pesky things like moral ambiguity even if it were dealing with only one hero.  Nolan's Batman films, on the other hand, take their cue from the post-1980's deconstruction of the superhero.  When you bring these characters into our world, they lose some of their luster and become susceptible to consequences.  Imagine what Hulk's rampage in the Manhattan financial district would've done to an already crippled economy.  Avengers doesn't have the right tone to properly address things like this.  There's some brief hand-wringing about SHIELD's construction of weapons of mass destruction, but it's ignored in due time.  Nolan's films give us a world where consequences are unavoidable and often painful.  And they're leading us to the very real possibility that Bruce Wayne is not Batman at the end of this trilogy.  Or, more alarmingly, that he may not even survive.  And though it puts me in the minority, I will always choose this type of somewhat headier film over popcorn fun. 

Warner Bros. will reboot Batman in a few years' time.  They'll likely try to make a Batman that fits better with the Justice League team-up movie that's now going to happen.  Yes, it will.  It's financially irresistible.  The question is, will it be good?  I don't know.  A lot of that will depend on the choices that Warner and DC make.  If they get their heads out of their asses, get a good team behind them, take cues from The Dark Knight and not Green Lantern, it could be great.  But even if it is, it will still have to confront the other pressing question: whether or not Avengers took all the air out of the superhero room.  Because it might have.

It was that bloody good.

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