Take Two Tuesday: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021) ... or, look out, here comes (another) Spider-Man

I haven’t done a lot of “Take Two Tuesdays,” but when I started back in May 2014, I set my sights on The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and found that I liked it better than I thought. How appropriate, then, that I’m revisiting the “Take Two” premise with another Spider-Man film.

I’ve seen Spider-Man: No Way Home twice now on home video. With a 93% score on Rotten Tomatoes, nearly $2 billion in worldwide box office, and legions of fans declaring that it’s the best Marvel movie ever, Spider-Man: No Way Home isn’t actually very good. It’s entertaining enough, with flashes of brilliance, but it’s over-reliant on nostalgia with a story that doesn’t hang together. And were it not for the pure unadulterated charisma of its leading performers, No Way Home would be an unabashed flop. 

You’re going to need to have seen the film for me to talk about why it doesn’t work, so spoilers follow for No Way Home (and, really, every Spider-Man film that came before it). I compared No Way Home to Avengers: Endgame, in that “No Way Home finds itself as the unlikely apogee of the eight Spider-Man films that preceded it.” And I’ve thought about this idea a lot over the last five months, mulling the difference between Endgame (which was built as a climax) and No Way Home (which is merely masquerading as one). I think No Way Home tries very hard to be the next Endgame, especially if you’ve seen every Spider-Man movie in the last twenty years.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022)

I’m a week late to the Multiverse of Madness party, partly because the first time that I saw the new Doctor Strange film, the power went out twenty minutes before the end of the film. After a lights-out impromptu intermission, I got to see the end of the film, and the theater made good with a complementary ticket to return. More to the point, though, I waited to review it because Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness was the first time in at least five movies and umpteen television series where I couldn’t wait to watch it again.
 
Put another way, I haven’t loved a Marvel movie like this in a great long while, and after having seen it twice, I’m pretty sure it’s hands-down my favorite Marvel movie since Avengers: Endgame.
 
Haunted by his surrender of the Time Stone and the consequences of returning to life after “the Blip,” Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) finds his world flipped sideways when the literal girl of his dreams arrives. But America Chavez (Xochitl Gomez) tells the good doctor that those weren’t dreams – they were visions of his parallel selves. With an army of demons at their heels, Doctor Strange calls in help from the strongest magic-user he knows, Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen), setting off on a journey across the multiverse.
 
I’ll concede that much of my post-pandemic relationship to Marvel has something to do with not seeing these films in packed, exuberant audiences, but my Doctor Strange crowd brought their moviegoing A-game. They laughed at all the right jokes, gasped in the appropriate places (including a particularly brilliant first-act twist), and hooted and hollered for the cameos. Even my No Way Home crowd was comparatively quieter compared to the raucous atmosphere in which we collectively entered the Multiverse of Madness. This is how one ought to see a Marvel movie; as Tony Stark once said (in Iron Man 2), “Oh, it’s good to be back!”
 
More to the point, though, Multiverse of Madness is such a strong entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe because of its unique flavor and its (relatively) self-contained narrative. It’s part of a much larger canvas, true, and if you haven’t seen WandaVision yet, your mileage may vary on Wanda’s part of the story, but director Sam Raimi and screenwriter Michael Waldron keep the film relatively insular. There aren’t dangling plot threads or universe-serving big pictures at play; at its core, it’s largely a horror movie in which Doctor Strange is chased by shadowy distortions of his own controlling personality, while Wanda is dogged by her grief at the multitudes of losses she’s endured.
 
Everyone remembers Sam Raimi as the man who brought us Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man trilogy, but let’s not forget his horror bona fides. And boy howdy, is this Doctor Strange a horror movie. Dutch angles and rapid zooms, jump scares and chase sequences straight out of a slasher film – it’s impossible not to appreciate the Raimi of it all, taking lessons he taught himself in things like Evil Dead and Darkman. Even the most mundane of establishing shots has something distinctively and idiosyncratically Raimi about it; indeed, there are some sequences that look like they were filmed on a GoPro attached to a vampire bat, a shot that practically screams, “Raimi!” What’s more, the film looks and thinks like a comic book. With crossfades and unconventional compositions, Multiverse of Madness feels like it was storyboarded directly from the comics. (Having Danny Elfman, arguably the most influential composer of the comic book movie genre, doesn’t hurt, especially in a symphonic chef’s-kiss of a battle amid the ruins of a parallel Sanctum Sanctorum. If you’ve seen it, you know exactly what I’m referencing.)
 
Benedict Cumberbatch joined the MCU at a time when the shared universe was poised to punch above its weight class. Frankly, he’s almost too good for the role, playing no fewer than five different Stranges, a scant forty days after his second Best Actor nomination at the Oscars. He’s clearly being groomed (if he’s not there already) for the Tony Stark center around which the rest of the Marvel Universe orbits, and he’s deftly up to the task, emotional and scary and all-powerful, without losing the ability to drop a good wisecrack or two. Elizabeth Olsen, though, very nearly steals the show as Wanda, now fully inheriting the mantle of the Scarlet Witch after the events of WandaVision. Olsen has always had fun as Wanda, and it really shows here as Raimi lets her lean into the character’s long history and peculiar physicality, all head cocks and intricate fingerwork (with just a pinch of a Sokovian accent). 
 
Meanwhile, it’s a great pleasure to see Benedict Wong back as Wong, now Sorcerer Supreme and stalwart arched eyebrow of the MCU. (To push the analogy, after appearances in Shang-Chi and Spider-Man: No Way Home, is Wong the new Nick Fury?) Amid all the other returning faces, including Rachel McAdams and Chiwetel Ejiofor – though not always in the way you’d be expecting – and a whole host of cameos that I wouldn’t spoil in a million years, there’s Xochitl Gomez as America Chavez. Comics enthusiasts can probably bet that we’ll see some kind of Young Avengers before too long, with Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) and Yelena Belova (Black Widow), and we can only hope that America Chavez is among them. She’s fun and spunky, not unlike Brec Bassinger’s recent turn as TV’s Stargirl, and her multiversal powers open up a whole new portal (pun intended) for future MCU shenanigans. 
 
Within the Multiverse of Madness, America lets us see scores of new worlds, familiar in a sideways kind of way, and much of the film’s second act involves a few surprise appearances facilitated by our journey into the multiverse. And unlike some films I could mention (more on that tomorrow), Sam Raimi holds the cameos at bay, preventing them from overwhelming the movie, even though he must surely hear the audience champing at the bit for more parallel worlds, more cameos, more interconnective tissue. Nay, says Raimi, the focus must be on the story at hand, a tight two-hour superhero horror flick that gives each of its main players a compelling arc. And it’s all done with a magician’s flourish, including one firing of Chekhov’s Gun that is so viscerally surprising and yet perfectly inevitable that I quite literally stamped my feet with glee when I realized how Raimi and Waldron had set the table for a delightfully creepy third act. (All the better that it’s using prosthetics more than CGI, an effect that seems straight out of Darkman.)
 
While I don’t know that I’ll ever love a Marvel movie as much as I love Captain America: The Winter Soldier (a perfect confluence of so many things), Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness really is the antidote to the Marvel malaise I’ve been feeling of late. Sure, I gave most of them good reviews, or at least fair to middling, but I haven’t rushed to rewatch any of them. (And indeed my opinion of one in particular has soured – but again, more on that tomorrow.) With this Doctor Strange, I fairly ran to the theater a week later. I should have known; leave it to the doctor to give you the medicine you need.
 

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is rated PG-13 for “intense sequences of violence and action, frightening images and some language.” Directed by Sam Raimi. Written by Michael Waldron. Based on the Marvel Comics. Starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Elizabeth Olsen, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Benedict Wong, Xochitl Gomez, and Rachel McAdams.

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Regardless of whether the rumors turned out to be true, I’ve always been excited for Spider-Man: No Way Home, even if only by dint of being the next Marvel movie. But as I waited for the lights to dim, it occurred to me that I’ve been going to see Spider-Man movies for nearly twenty years. That revelation, more than anything, finally led me to understand why some fans and critics have been hyping No Way Home as Spider-Man: Endgame. In the way that Avengers: Endgame was the conclusion of twenty-plus films and more than ten years in the making, No Way Home finds itself as the unlikely apogee of the eight Spider-Man films that preceded it. (And yes, I’m including Into the Spider-Verse.)

With his identity now revealed to the world, Peter Parker (Tom Holland) finds his whole life upended. It’s no longer fun or easy to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but Peter finds a way out when he asks Doctor Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) to cast a spell to make the world forget. Cocky as ever, Doctor Strange agrees, but after the magic spell backfires, Spider-Man gets more than he bargained for when the multiverse drops some of its worst villains (Willem Dafoe, Alfred Molina, Jamie Foxx, and more) into his world.

 

As there usually is with this sort of movie, there’s a tension between how much to review and how much to preserve over and against spoiling the film. Suffice it to say that the marketing has well and truly revealed that a few familiar faces are returning in the form of spider-villains past, so it’s fair game to talk about what a joy it is to see the likes of Dafoe and Molina in particular. These performers remind us how iconic their original turns were while layering in something new, turning fan service into an art form; there are reprises of famous lines and moments, but deployed with a winking reverence instead of simply putting coins in a jukebox. 

 

There’s more to the film, as there often is with a Marvel movie, that shouldn’t be spoiled, and many fans (myself included) will have anticipated at least some of it. My sense is that the things we didn’t predict will land a little better than the things we did, if only because we’ve had years to try to guess what No Way Home might do – and, in some ways, a film this highly anticipated can end up feeling a bit like a composite of all guesses on the internet. Kudos, though, to Kevin Feige and the rest of the Marvel crew for sifting through the fan service and the cameos to find an emotionally resonant core for this iteration of Spider-Man.

 

That core, finally, brings Tom Holland’s Spider-Man the closest he’s ever been to the original Stan Lee and Steve Ditko comics. Where the preceding films had treated Peter Parker as a kind of protégé for the technocratic Tony Stark, outrigging him with enough gadgets and super-suits to make Batman blush, No Way Home strips that back for the post-Endgame world and gets into the poignant purpose behind Spider-Man. After years of fumfering around the quotation (and I’m including Andrew Garfield’s duology in that indictment), we finally come back to the idea – and No Way Home actually gets the line right – that “with great power, there must also come great responsibility.” I won’t spoil how the refrain comes up, nor how elegantly it’s hammered home in one of the better-acted scenes of the film, but it’s a point that this Peter Parker has sorely needed to learn.

 

One thing that’s held the Holland trilogy together has been the supporting roles played by MCU heavy-hitters Robert Downey Jr. and Samuel L. Jackson. For No Way Home, it’s Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Strange, but for the first time the relationship isn’t one of veneration. Instead, when they meet, both Peter Parker and Stephen Strange are flawed characters, arrogant and cocky (in the way that Cumberbatch does better than nearly anyone else in the MCU), and by the end of the film, Peter has, remarkably, learned from Doctor Strange’s negative example and pursued a better, harder path. One hopes that Doctor Strange has learned just as much too, though in his example let’s not forget, “the warnings come after the spells.” (See you in The Multiverse of Madness, eh?)

 

In the way that Avengers: Endgame reminded us all why we like Marvel movies, No Way Home fairly becomes an ur-text for why Spider-Man stories matter and why we have spent twenty years watching films (of admittedly variable quality) about this amazing, spectacular hero. We’re rooting for this impossibly optimistic kid who keeps trying to do the right thing, even when it’s the hard thing, even when it costs him. After twenty years, there’s more to him than just corporate synergy or pure nostalgia, and one feels that – finally – the creators of this film care just as much about the character we do. After an overfull Spider-Man 3 in 2007 and the desperate grab for franchises in 2014’s The Amazing Spider-Man 2, No Way Home feels like building the future and honoring the past all at once, not jumping ahead to what some Hollywood bean counter thinks will maximize profit but rather acknowledging and celebrating Spider-Man fandom itself. It’s terrific, it’s fun, and it’s emotional, and I can’t wait to see it again.

 

Spider-Man: No Way Home is rated PG-13 for “sequences of action/violence, some language, and brief suggestive comments.” Directed by Jon Watts. Written by Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers. Based on the Marvel Comics by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. Starring Tom Holland, Zendaya, Benedict Cumberbatch, Jacob Batalon, Jon Favreau, Jamie Foxx, Willem Dafoe, Alfred Molina, and Marisa Tomei.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Avengers, assemble – Avengers: Infinity War brings together ten years and eighteen movies’ worth of stories to pit Earth’s Mightiest Heroes against the strength of Thanos (Josh Brolin) as he gathers the six Infinity Stones in order to impose his will on the universe. From Wakanda to Scotland, from New York to the moons of Jupiter, the Marvel Universe has never seen a threat quite like this one, and so it will take the gathered forces of the Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and more to repel Thanos and his forces to save all of existence.

I don’t know if it’s possible to give a full review of Avengers: Infinity War without spoiling at least something (I’ll certainly try), but I do want to take a moment to applaud the “spoiler culture” of 2018, which has done a fairly remarkable job of not ruining the film. It’s a critic’s burden that a film this big carries with it the necessity of preserving at all costs the sanctity of narrative surprise; then again, I do have a sense that my main audience here will have already seen the film at least twice. Mum is, however, the word here; I can’t, for example, talk about my only major critique of the film because it’s a mammoth spoiler. Reserving a fuller take for later, I’ll say only that I think the absolute ending of the film doesn’t quite accomplish what it sets out to do, both for reasons that are extratextual and because the film doesn’t quite position the last character we see on screen as the film’s protagonist in a way that would make that figure’s journey the center of the film. (It does, however, stick the emotional landing, in an extraordinary way.)

What Avengers: Infinity War manages to accomplish very deftly – and very quickly, I’d say, within the first ten minutes – is establish the stakes of the film with remarkable precision and weight. For a film that assembles eighteen other films and umpteen million cast members, this is a film that feels amazing well-balanced, and it rises to the gravity of the occasion by presenting a story where it truly feels that anything can happen: not just that X favorite character will meet up with unlikely ally Y, but that any important character could die before this is all said and done, that this story will matter more than we might have been led to expect. At one point, Thor says something like, “It feels like it’s going to stick this time.” Despite all the fakeouts, both within this film and within the Marvel Cinematic Universe at large, Infinity War achieves what I call the “Indiana Jones in peril” moment, where – despite knowing that Indiana Jones won’t actually die – we gasp in shock as his car fritters near the edge of a canyon; only in Infinity War, that car might veer off the road and take a hero or two out with it.

As a film that is more a collision of stories than a singular narrative – Iron Man’s addiction to his technology, Captain America as a man out of time, Black Panther opening his kingdom to the world, etc. – the film very nearly buckles under the sheer weight of what it’s called upon to do. And yet the only characters who don’t get a fair shake are the ones who don’t appear at all; everyone else is placed in subplots that use them to their full range, bouncing them against unlikely but pitch-perfect foils. I wasn’t left wanting more of any one character; I was just left wanting more, period. In this way, Infinity War is almost a new ur-blockbuster, mashing together a decade’s worth of blockbusters to create a super-film that was, as early as Sunday morning, already the biggest opening of all time.

Infinity War is such a roaring success because it understands both its core audience and the audience who may not have caught all the preceding films. We don’t necessarily need to have seen Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2, for example – though Star-Lord fills us in, just in case – because the film is much more invested in its characters than in their continuity. That’s the reason that each character’s arrival (and in at least one particularly electric case, a re-arrival) is such a crowdpleasing moment; regardless of where we left Captain America in Civil War, we’re just so glad to see him again because the Marvel folks have put the “care” back in “character.” From major players like Rocket Raccoon and Spider-Man to supporting cast like Wong and Okoye, Infinity War remembers why we love these characters and wisely keeps them to their strengths while nudging them out of their comfort zones. To review the performances in the film would require a scorecard – and maybe that’s a feature for another time, once the spoiler-warning reins have loosened – but suffice it to say that no one phones it in, treating each scene like just one more installment in their own films. Part of the electricity of the film, then, is the unforeseen chemistry between characters who might otherwise be poles apart (though, once more, it’d be terribly rotten to give all that away just yet), and on this count the filmmakers have continued to do the largely admirable work of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Aside from the popular appeal this film is likely to have, the ultimate “good time” popcorn flick, it represents the apotheosis of the very idea of the franchise – we now know that the largest film franchise can spawn the largest film of all time (dethroning The Force Awakens, which is really saying something in terms of hype), but what next? Avengers 4 seems poised to remind us one last time why we started down this journey back in 2008 and why we kept coming back for more, but it seems equally likely that it’ll set up the next ten years. If you don’t believe me, turn to the Marvel Zombie in your life after you see the post-credits sequence. The fullness of the universe is a major theme of this film, but the film is equally a reminder of the fullness of the Marvel Universe – and not just the Cinematic one. There’s always more, as the “_________ will return” credit acknowledges, and so too will the audience – return, that is, for the as-yet-untitled Avengers 4, for the two films (Ant-Man and the Wasp this year, and Captain Marvel the next) in the interim, for another viewing of Infinity War, and for whatever your personal favorite Marvel movie has been (for me, it’s still the masterful Winter Soldier). The Infinity Stones have been with us since the dawn of creation, and the success of Infinity War seems to promise that Marvel will be with us until the end of it.

Avengers: Infinity War is rated PG-13 for “intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action throughout, language and some crude references.” Directed by Anthony and Joe Russo. Written by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely. Based on the Marvel Comics by Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Jim Starlin. Starring Robert Downey Jr., Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Don Cheadle, Tom Holland, Chadwick Boseman, Paul Bettany, Elizabeth Olsen, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Danai Gurira, Letitia Wright, Dave Bautista, Karen Gillen, Pom Klementieff, Zoe Saldana, with Josh Brolin, Bradley Cooper, Vin Diesel, and Chris Pratt.

Doctor Strange (2016)

Blend Iron Man with Guardians of the Galaxy, stir in a liberal portion of Inception, and season lightly with Grey’s Anatomy, then bake for two hours in the classic Marvel Cinematic Universe formula, and you can imagine something pretty close to Doctor Strange, Marvel’s fourteenth and latest film which introduces magic and interdimensionality into the narrative tapestry of the MCU. While some have used the word “formula” derisively, Doctor Strange is an excellent example of why we don’t fix that which is not broken.

Benedict Cumberbatch joins the MCU world as Stephen Strange, an arrogant and narcissistic surgeon whose fate changes after a grisly car accident ends his medical practice by shattering his hands. In search of answers, Strange travels to Kamar-Taj, where he learns from The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) and her pupil Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) the magic of the mystic arts. As rogue sorcerer Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen) breaches the boundaries of reality to invite discord, Strange must choose between his old life and the new responsibilities he learns in Kamar-Taj.

Director Scott Derrickson has to introduce a lot of new things to Marvel with Doctor Strange, and he does a deft job of taking the universe into a new direction. While some of the magical aspects of the film resonate with Thor: The Dark World’s convergences and Ant-Man’s microverse, Doctor Strange is the most overtly mystical Marvel film to date, but a thrilling opener in the Mirror Dimension convinces the audience that this is all of a piece with what’s come before. Derrickson certainly owes a debt to the extra-gravitational imagery of Christopher Nolan’s Inception, sharing with the 2010 film a fondness for bending cityscapes and rotating corridors.

Derrickson also has to shuffle Benedict Cumberbatch into the MCU, and it’s honestly a little shocking that a star this big had to wait eight years to break in. But boy, does he fit right at home. Cumberbatch plays Strange as startlingly unpleasant in the film’s first act (with a particularly brutal one-liner to McAdams, which might be the MCU’s meanest line to date), and his sincerity in scenes laden with special effects goes a long way to selling us on the inherent strangeness (no pun intended) of the film’s conceits.

While I might not have intended to make a joke just there, Doctor Strange intends several, with a brand of humor that is more akin to the quirks of Guardians of the Galaxy than the snappy one-liners of Captain America: Civil War. (The librarian Wong, in particular, reminds one of Dave Bautista’s Drax.) Indeed, for all the high-concept magic and interdimensional strife at play in Doctor Strange, the film is surprisingly funny, lighthearted in the way we’ve come to expect from the MCU. Even characters like The Ancient One have their wry jests, and in that sense Doctor Strange’s sense of humor is more unexpected and therefore more successful. (Humor, after all, relies on the collision of the expected with the unexpected.)

As fantastic as Civil War was, reminding us of all the things we’ve loved about the MCU, Doctor Strange has me excited for the future of the universe, showing what can be done when the film tries something a little offbeat, something new about which the audience might not already have a preconceived notion. With Black Panther and Captain Marvel on the horizon, Marvel is setting up for a few new tricks, but if Doctor Strange becomes a kind of Iron Man for the future (both in setting tone and in installing an iconic star as the figurehead), I’m on board for fourteen more.

PS - Be certain to check out a 3D screening. I can't imagine the film working halfway as well in two dimensions.

Doctor Strange is rated PG-13 for “sci-fi violence and action throughout, and an intense crash sequence.” Directed by Scott Derrickson. Written by Jon Spaihts, Scott Derrickson, and C. Robert Cargill. Based on the Marvel Comics by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. Starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Rachel McAdams, Benedict Wong, Mads Mikkelsen, and Tilda Swinton.

The Imitation Game (2014)

Had this review come out before this year’s Oscar nominations were announced, I would have begun this review with all the intonations of a futurist predicting a nomination for Benedict Cumberbatch (one I don’t expect he’ll win, but it’s an honor to be nominated, right?).  Safely ensconced in 2015, however, the best I can do is say, “I would have told you so.”

Cumberbatch stars as Alan Turing, the father of modern computing and a genius codebreaker who developed a sophisticated piece of machinery to break the Nazi “Enigma” code during World War II.  With the help of fellow scientific wunderkinds (Keira Knightley and Matthew Goode among them), Turing develops his machine, amid flash-forwards that reveal just how rankly abused he was after the war.

When we look back on 2014 at the movies, we’re going to see a lot of things – the persistence of the superhero renaissance courtesy of Marvel’s best and a talking tree, the surprise revival of at least one career, glimmers of hope in the form of original, non-franchise films – but what stands out to me more than any of these is the abundance of science-oriented pictures.  Neil deGrasse Tyson ought to be proud; he’s on record lamenting the lack of scientific imagination in America these days, and I can’t help but feel 2014 has been an attempt to redress that wrong.  To recap:  Big Hero 6, Interstellar, The Theory of Everything, now The Imitation Game.  Heck, I’ll even count Mr. Peabody & Sherman.

As for the historical accuracy of the piece, I’ve read that a fair bit of it takes creative liberties, all of which I think is in service of the dramatization and not at the expense of the truth.  The film conveys its message quite clearly and effectively, declaring what difficult work the codebreaking was and how ultimately immaterial Turing’s sexuality was in his work.  What matters to the film – and what should have mattered to his persecutors – was his genius and his service to his country, and the film’s sequences which depict the ill effects of Turing’s chemical castration are truly heartbreaking.

The heartbreak is entirely the fault of Mr. Cumberbatch, who rebrands his socially awkward Sherlock shtick in service of something less quirky and more earnest, the kind of performance which has been known to scream for awards but which smacks of none of the desperation so often found in such roles.  Cumberbatch’s Turing is quite natural, eager to get on with the job with none of the distractions along the way.  Because his performance is so totalizing, he does eclipse, unfortunately, his ostensible co-star Keira Knightley.  As Joan Clarke, an invaluable figure in the actual business of codebreaking, Knightley isn’t given as much to do, making her more ancillary than I might have liked.  Seeing the film from Clarke’s perspective might have been intriguing, though I understand The Imitation Game’s project is elsewhere.

Surprisingly, I will say that the film is very nearly stolen by Charles Dance and Mark Strong, who play two of Turing’s superiors during the war.  Dance plays the more standoffish military man, where Strong’s real life analogue was apparently also the inspiration for M in the James Bond novels.  While they’re clearly first and foremost foils for Turing, showing who he is by what they are not, Dance and Strong are consummate performers in the sense that they nail characterization within seconds of debuting on screen and continue to captivate.

I had lamented that The Theory of Everything was somewhat formulaic as a biopic, and in a sense the same is true of The Imitation Game, but I think it isn’t to the film’s detriment because The Imitation Game is a story that hasn’t been told (whereas Theory didn’t innovate as far beyond the “handicapped doing the remarkable” archetype as I would have liked, relying more as it did on the strength of Eddie Redmayne’s transformation).  On top of all that, it’s captivating in a way that manages to subvert the fact that the audience already knows the broad strokes of how the story will end.  I liked it, and I liked Cumberbatch; I’m glad to see him nominated, and though I’m sure the Oscar will go to Redmayne or to Michael Keaton, I hope to see more top-caliber work from him in the future.

The Imitation Game is rated PG-13 for “some sexual references, mature thematic material and historical smoking.”  There are oblique and passing allusions to Turing’s homosexuality, culminating in his prosecution for indecency.  The film addresses bullying and the cost of war, including one scene of bombing.

Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)

J.J. Abrams’s 2009 preboot Star Trek (which prequelized while simultaneously rebooting the Shatner era) was fresh and original, tons of fun even to a casual filmgoer like myself, who still doesn’t fully know the difference between a Trekkie and a Tribble.  Four years later, with Star Trek Into Darkness, Abrams retains that vivacious sense of fun, even if the originality quotient is a little lower this time around.

After some back-and-forth about command, James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) takes the helm of the starship Enterprise with his trusted but emotionless first officer Spock (Zachary Quinto), who’s in a bit of a lover’s quarrel with communications lieutenant Uhura (Zoe Saldana).  The Enterprise crew is called into active duty after Starfleet Commander John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) declares a one-man war against the Federation.  Pursuing Harrison into Klingon space, Kirk and the crew confront dark secrets, the threat of their own mortality, and a full consideration of what it means to be a family.

Gut reaction?  This movie is an absolute blast.  It’s as exuberantly entertaining as a summer movie ought to be, delivering laughs and action in rapid succession without much filler.  From the opening scene, which seems to channel the temple run from Raiders of the Lost Ark, through deep-space combat and shifting gravity sprints, Star Trek Into Darkness is more a mad dash than a mere trek.

It’s engaging beyond expectation, in large part because of how stunning the visuals are.  Yes, those trademark Abrams lens flares are still omnipresent (and there’s at least one scene where they actually obstruct what we’re supposed to look at), but the stark illuminated interiors of the Enterprise have never looked better.  I’m not usually that guy, but:  the 3D IMAX on Star Trek Into Darkness is one of the best visual experiences in recent history, so I’d strongly recommend the upgrade.  This movie just looks good.

The other really great thing about Star Trek Into Darkness is the cast, ensemble at its best but with compelling centers.  Pine and Quinto redouble their efforts from the first film, especially Quinto, who does a deft job balancing cool Vulcan logic with half-human gestures toward emotion.  New faces Peter Weller and Alice Eve fit in well, though one suspects Eve was cast more for her lingerie physique than anything else (which is a shame, since her Carol Marcus is a fine foil for the womanizing Kirk).  And it’s a real treat to see Simon Pegg own the role of Scotty, very nearly stealing the show were it not for Benedict Cumberbatch, the face that launched a thousand Tumblrs.  As Harrison, Cumberbatch joins a long line of talented actors who play villains who soliloquize while in captivity amid hidden plans (see also Heath Ledger, Tom Hiddleston, Javier Bardem); as a complex villain with a semi-sympathetic backstory, Cumberbatch knows when to play the pathos card and when to nosh the scenery like it’s going out of style.

Without spoiling too much, though – and perhaps true believers want to skip this paragraph just in case – where the first film quite deliberately distanced itself from the original franchise, Star Trek Into Darkness wears its affiliation on its sleeve so transparently that even someone who’s never seen the earlier films (namely, me) can see the references a mile away.  For my money, the end result is an entertaining success – and a movie only has to be entertaining to get a good review from me – but the retreads only call attention to themselves, thereby pulling the audience out of the film, however briefly.  A cameo by Leonard Nimoy, though invited by the first film, is the first misstep in a train of callbacks that, again, are too unsubtle not to be cited here.  Longtime fans may relish these references; others may find them tedious and repetitive.  Again, it ends up working, but I can’t help but wonder what the writers might have devised had they fully unfettered themselves from their forebearers.

All told, Star Trek Into Darkness is a smash success of a summer movie, well worth those two hours and fistfuls of popcorn you won’t begrudge.  And in 3D IMAX, all the merrier.  Even if we have to wait through a five-year mission where no man et cetera et cetera, Star Trek 3 ought to be a real hoot.

Star Trek Into Darkness is rated PG-13 for “intense sequences of sci-fi action and violence.”  Spaceships and lasers and fistfights, oh my.