The same statement can serve as both praise and criticism of Captain Marvel: It feels like an average MCU movie. ‘Average,’ here, can mean both ‘typical,’ but also ‘middling.’ The implication of the former, for what it’s worth, probably still has its detractors—but really, if you’re watching the 21st entry into this sprawling mega-franchise and still lobbing criticisms of the MCU house style as a whole, well, there’s a decent chance you may not have come in good faith. For those who have, meanwhile, there can be the opposite tendency—if not as frustrating, per se, then certainly not far behind—of something being praiseworthy merely by riding beneath the Marvel, uh, banner. Thankfully, Captain Marvel avoids the nadir of the likes of the all-but-third Thors and best-left-forgotten Edward Norton Attempts to Present the Hulk, and lands squarely in the middle of the pack, near your Guardians Vol. 2 and inaugural Captain America.
In
fact, it’s perhaps instructive to view these two entries, in particular, as
spiritual companions of sorts to the movie, in terms of both environs and
tone. Set, for some time, in the sci-fi
sublease of the MCU, Captain Marvel (mostly)
deftly navigates the space opera portion of its narrative in a way that calls
to mind the Guardians series (with
which it just so happens to share a few tertiary characters, as unfortunately
underdeveloped here as there). While not
quite as rollicking or fresh-feeling as Vol.
1, it does inspire one to want to rewatch it, which is arguably its own
reward*. But even in these cosmic
corners, there are slight senses of both 1) forcing-it and 2)
been-there-done-that, which aligns it more firmly with Gunn’s fun-but-samey
follow-up. It’s fine, but not much
beyond that.
(*Spoiler: It holds up.)
Thematically,
meanwhile, Marvel targets some
parallels with the aforementioned America,
its fellow plucky Captain sharing a military background (him Army, her Air
Force), as well as a connection to some supplemental, experimental projects
goosing (ahem) both characters’ intrinsic grit and gritted-teeth determination. The films also share setting in the past—him the
’40s, her mid-90s (resplendent with arguably anachronistic Nine Inch Nails tees,
beepers, and a Blockbuster video, for as much as nostalgia can now be counted
as “historic”), and both then culminate with a swift, sudden, and somewhat jarring
jump to present-day*. And clearly, to
anyone who’s been following this mega-franchise for the decade-plus(!) it’s
been dominating theaters, Brie Larson’s Carol Danvers is being framed as the
heir-apparent to Chris Evans’ rock-solid Steve Rogers.
(*I’d contend that each time-hopping epilogue sort of weakens the parent films
as a whole, since what had been largely self-contained stories become clearly
mere pieces in a larger game. That’s
Marvel’s whole deal, obviously, but there’s something to be said for how
certain films seem to work quite capably as standalones even within the macro
trappings. Here again, Guardians Vol. 1 springs to mind.)
Whether/how this will play in the long run is still up in the air, but one thing in particular bodes pretty well for the premise: Larson’s Carol is flawed. In flashbacks, she’s seen getting rowdy at the bar, she frequently lets her temper get the better of her (this is made into a plot point), and is overall pretty brash and hard-charging. She eschews that whole “discretion is the better part of valor” shtick, since that doesn’t tend to down warheads. In other words, she’s like most every male hero the MCU has brought to the screen, a move that’s more progressive than it probably sounds. One viewing companion drew a contrast between Marvel and the non-Marvel film to which is will inevitably be compared most, the Distinguished Competition’s own Wonder Woman. While certainly the strongest of that particular billion-dollar boondoggle’s post-Nolan offerings, WW is assuredly guilty of putting its protagonist up on what my partner called a “pink pedestal”*, purposefully coloring everything she does with the frame of her femaleness, and fairly bluntly so (“I am no man,” anyone?**).
(*Copyright
pending.)
(**This line does get a questionably intentional thematic echoing in a
climactic “My name is Carol!” As hokey as
it is, it does at least speak to the
film’s prioritizing character over semiotics.)
That movie gets away with it, largely by virtue of its own historical setting (the 1910s, its way of simultaneously attempting to sidestep and one-up the First Avenger) and preamble of female empowerment within Amazonian society. The most quietly crucial next step Captain Marvel takes is in its wholesale removal of this rosy lens. To the script’s great credit, Carol isn’t even saddled with an obligatory love interest, aside from some vibes you catch here and there (and even those aren’t from the places you might expect from a major mainstream blockbuster). There’s, of course and as always, an opposite argument to be made, that by molding the character so squarely to fit alongside the likes of Stark and Steve Rogers, Marvel has yet again prioritized staying on-brand above doing something truly new. Myself, I don’t buy it. It would feel more disingenuous, I think, for the film to turn its feminist subtext into text, purely to the end of earning amorphous cultural “points.” It would, in an ironic twist, feel reactionary, too, to DC’s semi-recent stab at the same. Mostly, though, it would feel pandering, and not in the way that serves and (super)suits an average MCU movie.
Also:
-Obviously, I focused mostly on the film at large and Carol in particular (hard to do one without the other, really), but shout-outs must go to Samuel L. Jackson (the latest to benefit from Marvel’s mystical, increasingly impressive de-aging magic) and, especially, Ben Mendehlson as a Skrull with layers (and not just of latex and CGI). The former does an actually-pretty-nuanced job playing a younger, less self-assured iteration of a pre-eyepatch Fury, and the running joke of his interplay with a furry friend both humanizes him more than the whole of the MCU thus far (give or take a Winter Soldier) and ends up weaving together another of the film’s runners. As for Mendehlson, his blend of wit and exasperation as a not-so-bad guy strike a nice counterpoint to his blend of smarm and, well, different kind of exasperation as Director Krennic in Rogue One, from that other Disney-owned powerhouse mega-franchise.
-Less fortunate are Carol’s (well, at that point technically Veers’) Kree compatriots, who start out seeming to have a dynamic of Guardians-lite bickering among their ranks. But that quickly dissipates into the ether, and other than Jude Law’s Yon-Rogg (whose own villainous heel turn was basically [and stupidly] already spoiled by the trailer), they end up more along the lines of Thanos’ equally indistinguishable Black Order from Infinity War; this seems like a major missed opportunity to world-build by fleshing out more of the jingoistic Kree culture within the microcosm of the squabbling squad. Alas.
-Speaking of squandered opportunities, between its fighter-jet-pilot backstory and cat called Goose, the movie seems to be teasing a Top Gun homage that never really takes shape. I mean, it doesn’t exactly gel with the otherwise-90s aesthetic, and I could certainly see wanting to steer clear of the “Danger Zone,” especially given that more people probably associate that with Archer than its original home these days, but still. Not even a volleyball scene? Alas.
The Andreview Hargablog 