Directed/Written By: Joss Whedon
Starring: Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark/Iron Man, Chris Evans as Steve Rogers/Captain America, Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow, Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton/Hawkeye, Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner/The Hulk, Chris Hemsworth as Thor, Tom Hiddleston as Loki, Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury, Cobie Smulders as Maria Hill
Joss Whedon, <<G-O-D>> among sci-fi/fantasy geeks, eternally immortalized as <<T-H-E>> primary creative force behind eternally immortal cult classic Buffy The Vampire Slayer and perennial creator of too-brilliant-not-to-be-cancelled-and-thereafter-mourned-by-small-but-almost-disturbingly-dedicated-legions-of-fans shows like Angel, Firefly and Dollhouse, returns to piloting the big screen with his second full-length feature film, no less than seven years after producing some-say-the-best-sci-fi-film-of-all-time Serenity, and with no less than 5.5 times of that film’s budget (That’s USD220 million, poor pplz). And btw guyz, when I say that Joss Whedon has returned, I fucking mean that he has returned, because The Avengers is without a doubt one of the smartest, wittiest summer blockbusters in, like, the history of the galaxy. The best superhero movies (I refer to Spider Man 2 and The Incredibles) move at brisk paces, but are sensitive enough to take the time to explore their characters’ psychology. More importantly, they understand that expensive CGI shots and loud crashes don’t mean shit by themselves; they must consistently reflect the inner workings of the film’s characters and/or provide logical plot cues to avoid becoming aimless exercises in gratuitous visual flash. As with his best works, Whedon demonstrates here that he’s undeniably got this shit down. And what’s wonderful about Joss Whedon is that he would never stop with just making a good-for-a-genre-film; he is one of those rare, potentially legendary (and not just among cult classic geeks) action film directors that are at once fiercely feminist, effortlessly witty and at his best, psychologically profound and fearlessly subversive — and much of these qualities are quite palpable here. As with all of his works, however, The Avengers also suffers from glaring inconsistency issues and problematic screwball throwaways in terms of characterization.
The best characters here work because of their psychological complexity. Tony Stark is an egoistic shitball who hides his innate heroism behind smart-mouthed witticisms and fuck-the-team coolness and Natasha Romanoff is a sentimental fuzzy-wuzzy who convincingly encases herself in a jet-black shell of cold indifference and overwrought intellectualism. Even Nick Fury, who arguably has the least opportunities for character development, is shrouded by moral ambiguity. He pontificates and motivates on the grounds of morality and humanity, but at the same time is responsible for creating weapons using the very device he so claims should not be used as a weapon. Naturally, the worst characters are those that do not have a convincing backstory, and that do not have actual psychological depth.
Whedon’s use of The Hulk, for one, is particularly exploitative and contrived. When Loki suggests that he plans on unleashing The Hulk, a big ass fuss is kicked up about HOW DANGEROUS THE HULK IS and HOW UNSTABLE BANNER’S CONTROL OVER THE HULK IS. Whedon even inserts a fight between The Hulk and Thor to expound on the dangers of not keeping Banner’s temper under wraps. Yet, at the most crucial moments of the film, Banner suddenly manages to become The Hulk AT WILL, then displays remarkable team player co-operativity? Disregarding that little incident where The Hulk very nearly smashed Scarlett Johansson’s impossibly pretty face in (which btw immediately seems like a sad echo of Angel‘s “Billy”), there is only one other scene that corroborates his incoherence (the one where The Hulk beats everyone up, then nonchalantly punches Thor squarely in the face), but frustratingly enough, that scene is used purely for comic relief, and fails to expound satisfactorily on the ‘uncontrollable danger’ element that The Hulk brings, and that was so pervasive in the first half of the film. This convenient conversion of The Hulk from Loose Cannon That Could Potentially Kill Everyone to Really Strong Green Guy Who Fights For The Team Yo is an inexcusable plot hole that insults both Mark Ruffalo’s marvelous turn as a self-alienating geek, and the psychological complexity on which Whedon’s legacy is predicated on. Also, I find this inconsistency particularly baffling because Whedon handled a very similar character called River in Serenity, who was visibly unstable for much of the movie before rising too at the film’s most crucial moment to become the answer to everyone’s problems. The difference, however, is that Whedon made a solid effort in Serenity to show how River’s love for her dying brother allowed her to overcome her mental instability and harness her powers for the team; with The Hulk, Whedon just makes him smash shit up and prays that everyone is too distracted to notice.
Loki, with his superficial, uninspired daddy issues and little brother complex, makes for a very silly, flat villain. The scene where The Hulk throws him around and leaves him whimpering in Tony Stark’s office, while wildly comical, is particularly disgusting. It immediately, cruelly dismisses Loki as a joke, and decisively prevents any attempt at sympathy. The best villains (Magneto and Rogue from X-Men are particularly wonderful character studies) are those that we sympathize with for their experiences, that we identify with for their humanity, but that we disagree with for their hatred and destructiveness. I doubt Loki even understands what being human means — he’s too busy moping about not having legions of humans bowing down to him.
Captain America and Thor are both rather weak character studies too. Steve Rogers is a soldier attempting to reconnect to an unfamiliar world in the only way he knows how; by fighting. The premise undoubtedly makes for a very interesting character study, so moments like Coulson’s fangurling or when Rogers gets frustrated with Stark’s quips that Whedon could’ve used to expound on his sense of alienation and loneliness and disillusionment — but doesn’t — are particularly frustrating. Action movies are all about imbuing every possible scene with as much depth as possible, especially since the pace is so often obstructive towards character studies. Unfortunately, Whedon, probably because of creative distrust among corporate superiors demanding for more action and less talk, doesn’t manage to flesh out his supporting characters quite as well or as sensitively as he does on Serenity or Buffy. In Whedon’s defense, one must realize that I’m only super critical of this movie because I have nothing but respect and love for Joss Whedon, who at his best embodies character-driven action film at its best, and thus must be judged on an entirely different rubric.
On a related side note, Whedon’s Avengers sequel (I’m assuming he’s gonna be in charge again because the reviews for The Avengers have been almost uniformly excellent, and the box office showings have been record-breakingly good), which he proclaims will be “darker”, “more painful” and “organic”, will undoubtedly be a dramatic shift from this film’s screwball superficiality and light-humored expedience, and thus will be infinitely more satisfying in terms of character development and as an entirety. After all, Whedon works best when he repudiates convention and expectation and dives headfirst into his characters (Buffy‘s “The Body”, which eschews the show’s monster-of-the-week format for a hauntingly accurate exploration of loss and death, is one of the best TV episodes ever broadcasted). Besides, he is almost notorious for having bumpy starts (Dollhouse took an entire season to become something truly remarkable) when it comes to any of his projects, so I think it’ll be fascinating to see the direction that The Avengers goes once it really takes off; because if you think you’ve seen the best of Joss Whedon in this film, gurrrrl you ain’t seen shit.
Problems aside, this film is a loving compilation of Whedonesque conventions and a characteristically self-indulgent homage to the best moments of his TV shows. Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill are both Whedonesque staples, in that they are both variations of Gwen Raiden from Angel and Zoe Washburn from Firefly/Serenity, both of whom are tough chick archetypes hardened by life and injustice but with instinctive warmth and compassion for people in danger. Romanoff’s sense of self-awareness and her exploitation of the myth of female emotional tractability is reminiscent of Fred from Angel, while Hill’s indomitable hardness is immediately reminiscent of Illyria from the same show. In almost every summer blockbuster, there is this stupid misogynistic desire to throw women around the room and have them all bloodied up and tortured in anticipation of a dramatic entrance by a muscly male character that inevitably does all the rescuing hero-type shit. In Whedon’s movies, things turn out very differently. When Romanoff is offered to be rescued by her male colleague while being tortured, she basically tells him to fuck off because she’s ‘busy working’. When Captain America offers to help her kill the crazy alien people, she wryly tells him that she can handle herself; and it’s not like she has superpowers or anything — she’s just that badass. Hill is pretty kickass too. In fact, nobody even bothers to offer her help. That close-up with her bloodied nose and bleeding forehead after she kills the last of Loki’s flunkies on the island-jet thing? Priceless. Tony Stark here immediately recalls Topher from Dollhouse, Wash from Firefly and Xander from Buffy, in that he visibly doubles up as Whedon’s in-movie substitute by snagging all the über-intelligent zany, epigrammatic quips and providing all the wry smart-assery in the midst of overbearing pressure and danger. Most of the breathtaking action scenes here are highly reminiscent of Whedon’s previous works too. Joss Whedon is notorious for being self-indulgently (and self-knowingly) egoistic, so I’m guessing Whedonites everywhere know what I mean when I say that there is this invisible but palpable sense of creative glee in the blatantly self-referential ego romps. When Loki destroys SHIELD’s research facility, the ground gives way and the buildings are swallowed whole, something that was done (albeit at a much smaller scale) almost nine years ago in the Buffy season finale “Chosen”. The inter-dimensional portal that opens and allows crazy alien things to enter and wreck havoc on earth is also something that made an appearance in Buffy‘s “The Gift” and Angel‘s “Not Fade Away”. It’s certainly not a coincidence that the most iconic scenes from the season finales (Buffy had two, technically speaking) of his most popular shows are featured here. What it is…is a characteristically Whedonesque exercise in masturbatory glee.
Whedon has always had a predilection for socially and politically-driven subtext, and The Avengers finds his knack for social commentary more refreshing than ever. In an age of Wikileaks when the absoluteness of corporate authority and governmental suppression can no longer be justifiably dismissed as a myth or half-baked conspiracy theory, the notion of The Avengers as a group of ‘remarkable people’ pushing for change and working towards a better world seems all the more pertinent. Corporate metaphors have been a constant leitmotif in Whedon’s past works (The Alliance in Firefly/Serenity, Wolfram & Hart in Angel, Rossum Corporation in Dollhouse), but they always feel like a representation of the greater epic struggle between Good and Evil. In light of the recent wave of political upheaval and social protests, Whedon’s obsession with corporate authority and its struggle against the ambitions and humanity of normal people finds new political depth and social relevance. I mean, if you think about it: it is no coincidence that The Avengers are led by Tony Stark and Captain America, two ordinary humans bolstered by extraordinary human inventions — metaphors for the extraordinary human capacity for greatness. Thor may be an ‘immortal’ demi-God, but while he stands comfortably (well, not so comfortably, actually) on earth casting lightning into the portal to alien worlds beyond, it is Tony Stark, egoist extraordinaire and godless sinner, that offers his life as a sacrifice and that truly saves the day. The true champions of this film are the seemingly petty humans in denial of their own heroism (Stark, Romanoff, Banner) and on the unlikely heroes ignorant of their own frailty (Coulson, and that particularly wonderful old man that stood up to Loki); do not think for a second that this is not a concealed social statement.
Oh and I almost forgot. THE MANLY HOMOEROTICISM. Joss Whedon knows a beautiful man when he sees one *the world looks pointedly at Chris Evans’ enormous pectorals* and characteristically the first thing he does is make sure that other men in his films know it too.
In an interview almost as old as time itself, Whedon once famously proclaimed that he created Buffy to kick major supernatural ass in protest of the frustrating cliché of the helpless-woman-in-the-alley who gets killed by the Big Bad. Needless to say, much of his career has been built on his predilection for turning conventions on their heads. In The Avengers, many of the characters (especially Bruce Banner, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers) have rich backstories (that are explored, often with startling insight, in their respective comic book series) that simply beg the writer to make them into tortured souls unable to see past their own pettiness and sadness — and Joss Whedon has on numerous occasions even demonstrated his love for such characters (RE: Harmony and Angel in Angel).
But he doesn’t do that here.
Instead, he tells us all the reasons why his characters are decidedly, painfully human. He tells us all the reasons why his characters have every prerogative and every reason to act like any ordinary, petty person. Then what does he do? He tells us that in spite of all the reasons why we should be allowed to stay ordinary, sometimes the reasons don’t matter at all. Sometimes all that matters is that we are given extraordinary gifts: and if those gifts allow us to make a change, if those gifts allow us to make the world better, then that’s what we should fucking do.
Also the action sequences are totez kickass 4realz homies.
KevinScale Rating: 4.2/5
therein, Therin. 