For a man with such previous unbridled patriotism, Captain America does not agree with his namesake country this time. That is okay, because it is one of many convenience the script needs to move along at its enjoyably brisk pace. The script, littered with jokes and winks squarely at the fan boys and girls, and men and women, leaving anyone who has not signed up for their paycheck to go directly to Disney and cinemas (and cable companies), in the dark, fortunate for the dim lights to hide the fact that they are the only ones not laughing.
Does that mean I am not a fan of these seemingly biannual installments of Marvel? Yeah, it definitely does. That does not mean I walked into the theatre, ticket in hand, expecting to hate this blockbuster. Quite the contrary; with so many men and women running around in tight pajamas fighting crime, there is a requisite silliness. They cannot escape this. Batman, arguably the most, or at least the second most, famous and popular rival to the Disney-owned franchise, found success in grimness, with its mostly successful Dark Knight trilogy, one that felt more like a James Bond picture than the hyper-stylized, neon-lighted films of the eighties and nineties. Batman solved riddles (sorry, wrong villain), and acted in a seemingly real world. But the movies all boiled down to, essentially, a James Bond-wannabe in a rubber bat suit. And this permeated to his recent picture against Superman. This is a problem the more successful Marvel flicks have averted. With the dour taste of Zack Snyder's most recent film still fresh, I was excited to have fun watching men run around in rubber tights.
In this movie we have a rich playboy who uses expensive toys to fight crime (no no, not Batman), his forgettable pal with essentially the same toys, a male Catwoman (complete with claws and dexterity, but with none of the Pfeiffer sex-appeal), Michelle Tanner from Full House (obviously, this movie is why she was not in the Netflix series sequel), CGI-man with the persona of Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory, a man with wings (again, not Batman) Bionic Commando in need of a visit to the barber, among several others. They fight because of plot instead of reason; Iron Man, too conveniently shown the deadly side-effect of superpowers by a conveniently positioned lady at an elevator where he conveniently gave a speech (and free grants). Over one hundred countries want monitoring, and control, over the superheros; obviously, none of them have seen the also Disney-made film The Incredibles.
He enlists several of his buddies to sign a contract, making it illegal for them to use their powers without direct orders. Captain America rallies the remaining Avengers, and the two groups fight. once all together and a few other little scuffles throughout the rest of the film, including the unsatisfying climax. One in which ends with neither party winning, ala the aforementioned DC attempt, Freddy vs. Jason, and, well, pretty much all other "vs" movies. Even the real Civil War had a clear winner. But the action is at least fun, with bodies hitting the wall with the weight of humans and not CGI. Well, about half of the action is good; with two directors, it seems one likes to film with the action in front of the camera, one where you see the punches actually hit its target. The other director seems to favor shaky cam, where the camera is controlled like a parkourer with a GoPro. It is a shame too, as this is some of the best fighting this side of a Kung Fu film. Or at least half of it is; I could not follow the other half.
The Marvel movie's appeal appears to come from its humor, but it seems the writers give all the best quips to Robert Downey Jr.; he is snarky, with the best smirk since Sean Connery in his most famous role. The other jokes fall flat, such as when the Captain gets to kiss with a girl, and the camera cuts to his pals in the neighboring car, nodding their head in satisfaction. The audience laughed, and I did not. Apparently, I did not see the "laugh" signal, kinda like how the writers did not know they were writing a movie and not a sitcom I failed to catch the name of the dame the shield-wielding man smooches, but I do know it was the niece of his previous lover. That is just creepy, well, that and their egregious age difference. Remember, Mr. Stars and Stripes was frozen in the forties.
The auditorium was packed, filled with fans emblazoned in their favorite superhero insignia, and indeed, they chuckled at every punchline, and became silent at every dramatic moment. Not just the fans- everyone. I refuse to believe that all viewers were fans, and simply followed the audience to tell them when something was to be funny or moving. The theatre was almost as packed as the latest Star Wars picture, a superior film who did not rely on its entire audience exchanging their free time for fandom. It told a story (well, retold one), introducing new characters with just enough backstory, and explained its story in finesse brevity. I saw moms, dads, disinterested dates, all walks of life. As in, not your usual superhero superfans. Yet they laughed when they were told to, the fans acting as a ticket-buying laugh track for the film. It made for a fun movie-going experience, but did not save the movie. I'm sorry Crossbones, you are no Chewbacca.
