The Grand Marvel Rewatch: The Incredible Hulk

Face front, true believers! Welcome to the next astonishing addition to “The Grand Marvel Rewatch,” designed to get us all sufficiently amped up for Captain America: Civil War, which comes out May 6, 2016. Each Wednesday, The Cinema King casts his eye back upon the twelve films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and offers five salient observations about the caliber of the films and the way they might play into Marvel’s latest installment in America’s favorite franchise.

Today’s fantastic feature film keeps us in the realm of 2008 for The Incredible Hulk, the only sole film starring our not-so-jolly green giant.

1. Sorry, this one’s a little boring. I’ve seen Iron Man more times than I can count, but The Incredible Hulk is undoubtedly the Marvel movie I’ve seen the fewest number of times, and that’s entirely due to the fact that this one is just a little bit dull – especially in comparison to Iron Man. It’s not that The Incredible Hulk is poorly made, but nearly everyone in the film proceeds with this lackadaisical attitude of monster malaise, such that any other emotional valence comes off as either insincere or cartoonishly out of place. 
2. Apologies to Edward Norton, but... It’s impossible to watch this film without looking ahead to Mark Ruffalo’s turn as Bruce Banner in The Avengers, and Ed Norton just doesn’t measure up to what Ruffalo does with the character. Again, Norton’s Banner is somewhat one-note, desperate to rid himself of the Hulk, but for a moviegoer that’s a somewhat unappealing narrative hook. Ruffalo, meanwhile, struggles to manage the Hulk more as a disorder than a disease, which makes for a more engaging character arc than just running away from problems. It’s apparent that Norton is an immense fan of the character, but this just isn’t a cinematic Hulk.  
3. The perils of world-building. Aside from the RDJ cameo in the last scene of the film, The Incredible Hulk feels too much like a stand-alone film. With William Hurt returning as General Ross in Civil War, this effect might be mitigated somewhat, but there is a sense that The Incredible Hulk is the jigsaw piece that doesn’t fit in the MCU. The train leaves the station without a crystal-clear origin story, there are rough allusions to a super-soldier serum that doesn’t gel with Captain America: The First Avenger, and supporting characters like Doc Samson and The Leader are winked at but then abandoned. With their respective actors elsewhere – Ty Burrell on Modern Family and Tim Blake Nelson in that Marvel movie which shall not be named – it’s unlikely we’ll see these incarnations again. 
4. That Hulk, however... For as much as I couldn’t get behind Norton as Bruce Banner, The Hulk himself is actually pretty well-done. There are three big Hulk sequences, and each does something sufficiently different to justify its existence. You have a horror-inspired opener, a broad-daylight centerpiece, and then the big climactic battle between two titans. These are really good setpieces that show off what the Hulk can do, and if you can set aside the visual inconsistency between this and The Avengers, these Hulk action scenes are a good forerunner to what’s to come in the MCU. As an added bonus, we get to hear Hulk say “HULK SMASH” rather than Captain America, which ought to appeal to purists like myself. 
5. Must there be a Hulk movie? I’ve been wondering this a lot lately. To date, The Incredible Hulk is the only one-off in the MCU, and honestly it’s difficult for me to envision a Hulk standalone film that doesn’t involve at least one other Avenger. Look, Marvel has tried The Hulk twice, and it didn’t stick either time because there’s something inherently un-cinematic about a character who doesn’t want to Hulk out. It might work in a serialized format like the television show to which this film clearly pays homage (but which I confess I’ve never seen), but I think Hulk works better as part of an ensemble. I’m eager to be proven wrong, but I can’t at this juncture imagine a standalone superhero film starring The Hulk (and no, Planet Hulk doesn’t count).

There’s so much more to be said about The Incredible Hulk, so be sure to check out my original review. Join me in the Grand Marvel Rewatch over the coming weeks, and hit the comments to share your thoughts about the MCU. And don’t forget to tune in next Wednesday for the next installment, in which we take a closer look at 2010’s Iron Man 2. Excelsior!

Birdman (2014)

It’s no secret around here that superhero films are really my cup of tea, and I love a good bit of deconstruction as much as anyone.  And with the Oscar race nearing the starting line, I’m ready what the studios have left in the barrel for 2014 to see what they consider to have been the best saved for last.  Birdman is a combination of all three, familiar in some places but oddly unique in others – mostly mystifying but never anything less than riveting.

Michael Keaton stars as Riggan Thomas, a washed-up superhero actor who hung up his Birdman costume after three successful films twenty years ago.  In a bid for new relevance, Riggan is helming a Raymond Carver stage adaptation, a Broadway show with more obstacles before opening night – chief among them the interference of a thespian (Edward Norton) who takes himself far too seriously, the skepticism of his producer (Zach Galafianakis), and the backstage presence of his recently-rehabilitated daughter (Emma Stone).  All the while, Riggan seems to be haunted – or is that possessed? – by the voice of Birdman.

I’ll begin by echoing what nearly everyone has already said – the 87^th Oscar for Best Actor is really Michael Keaton’s to lose.  The apparent self-reflexivity of the role – Keaton left Batman after two films, amid creative differences and concerns of typecasting – had lured me to the theater, but it is by far the least interesting thing about the role, which says something about the staggering amount of depth Keaton brings to the part.  It’s weird that the last time I “saw” him was as Ken in Toy Story 3, a part which had already seemed so perfectly cast.

More interesting than the modest overlap between Riggan and Keaton’s career is the similar approaches to relevance.  Where Riggan wants to be admired once more, his whole arc in the film a bid to be taken seriously, there is no scent of that desperation in Keaton’s work.  Instead, any renewed relevance comes ipso facto from the fine performance.  Keaton, like the best comic actors, is able to walk the line between pathos and punchline; he can turn it on or off as needed but often finds more versatility in the gray areas.  Especially remarkable are the scenes where he and the other actors are rehearsing the play, the rapid-fire conversation toggling between the playscript and their own actor’s notes on the script.  These are brilliantly done, showcasing the number of levels on which Keaton can work, and they raise one of the film’s most significant themes – the blur between truth and performance.

I’ve always been aware of Alejandro González Iñárritu, but I’d never seen one of his movies before Birdman.  As it stands, this interrogation of performativity is absolutely fascinating, inviting comparisons with Black Swan, which similarly dealt with a performer’s questionable grasp on sanity at the key moment of her career.  Unlike Black Swan, though, Iñárritu has so many themes on his plate that the balanced attention he gives to all of them is a superpower in and of itself.  In the film’s two-hour runtime, Iñárritu tackles performance, love, respect, blockbusters, reinvention, social media, critique, and a handful of others.

This deft balance of the film does, however, leave me a bit perplexed in the sense that Birdman is such a full-bodied satire that I don’t fully know where we stand by the end of it.  Iñárritu is obviously not a fan of superhero blockbusters (Riggan complains that all the good actors are wearing capes), nor does he have any patience for the pretensions of the arthouse crowd (Norton’s technique-obsessed Mike Shiner, a spot-on caricature, is only real on stage).  Iñárritu dismisses lawyers, loathes anyone with a cell phone in front of their face (“Can’t you just have a real experience for once in your life?”), and isn’t too fond of art critics, either.  Birdman targets all of these to expose their absurdity, but the ground on which we’re left is a little shaky.

Many critics are falling over themselves to talk about the film’s apparent long-take filming, and while Iñárritu has clearly disciplined his cast to handle these scenes, I’m not too impressed by the overall longness of the takes because I’m certain there’s some digital fakery afoot.  It does, after a while, start to feel like a gimmick – Hitchcock did the same thing in Rope, and it called attention to itself there, too.  Fortunately, however, it’s not a gimmick that takes away from the film, just another neat thing Birdman does.  (Just setting the record straight – it was impressive when Hitchcock faced the challenge on film, but in a digital world, it’s nothing we didn’t see in Children of Men.)

I mentioned the film’s shotgun-style approach to satire, but I do think that ultimately what you make of the film depends entirely on its ending.  The “ambiguous final shot” is so pervasive these days that it’s almost to the point of a cliché, so I would be interested to know what others make of the film.  For me?  Without spoiling anything, I’m a subscriber to the “happy ending” interpretation, for all the science-fictional/superheroic implications that come with that.  Your destination may vary, but your mileage won’t – Birdman is a fabulous thought-provoking crowdpleaser.  I didn’t always know what to make of it, but it managed to feel compelling all the way through.

Birdman is rated R for “language throughout, some sexual content and brief violence.”  The film is littered with F-bombs and other adult language.  A man is seen nude from behind, and in another scene his costume reveals an (exaggerated) outline of his genitals.  There are about three bloody scenes (many involving fake blood for the stage) and a few hamfisted fistfights played for laughs.

Top 10 Marvel Cinematic Universe Films - #10-9

With Guardians of the Galaxy, the Marvel Cinematic Universe enters the double-digits club.  The job of a Top 10 list in this case is especially difficult because I knew precisely which would be #1 and which would be #10, but the rest I don’t have much complaint about.  The Marvel brand has been very reliable, so assigning ranks becomes a somewhat arbitrary game of quibbling and comparing.  That said, I feel fairly confident in assessing “The Top 10 Marvel Cinematic Universe Films!”

10.  The Incredible Hulk (2008)

“All that said, there's something... off about this movie. I'm not sure what it is.”

It’s only the second entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, so perhaps we can excuse The Incredible Hulk for not finding its feet very well.  It’s not a bad film by most stretches of the imagination, but it isn’t very engaging; the supporting cast is rather unmemorable (though I wouldn’t mind seeing William Hurt’s Thunderbolt Ross show up somewhere else in the MCU), but the biggest disappointment is Edward Norton’s turn as Bruce Banner, a tepid and wiry character who pales in comparison to Mark Ruffalo’s more intriguing portrayal.  There’s a disjunct between Norton and his gamma-sized alter ego, one that makes Hulk and Banner feel more like separate characters.  Perhaps it’s the story, focused around eliminating the Hulk persona – but only insofar as he’s not needed for an obligatory action sequences.  The special effects are gee-whiz, a step up from the Ang Lee film five years earlier, but even with an RDJ cameo this Hulk is not quite incredible.

9.  Iron Man 2 (2010)

“The film thrives because of Downey's personality; he's impeccably cast here in a character who's larger than life.” 

Loyal readers may be surprised by how low on the countdown Iron Man 2 lands, and in spite of how much I’m enamored of Robert Downey Jr. I put Iron Man 2 just above Incredible Hulk mostly on the grounds of narrative unity.  As engaging as RDJ is as Tony Stark, as fun as the movie can be, it feels very much like a friend with an ulterior motive.  As much as I admit to being a Marvel shill, there’s a degree to which I resent how much of Iron Man 2 is devoted to teasing The Avengers.  I love Samuel L. Jackson as much as the next guy, but I can’t help but wonder if an Iron Man 2 sans tie-ins might have been as strong as the first; the glimpses we get of that film – in which Tony Stark wrestles with his legacy while facing a competitor – is fantastically fun, but it feels put on hold whenever the S.H.I.E.L.D. crew stroll in.

Come back Wednesday for the next installment of this sure-to-be-controversial Top 10 list!

Monday at the Movies - November 26, 2012

Welcome to Week Forty-Two of “Monday at the Movies.”

Fight Club (1999) – I’ll say this for David Fincher’s Fight Club:  it holds up much better on a second viewing.  I came to it years ago under the auspices of anticipating the allegedly brilliant twist ending, but after predicting it fairly early on I found myself disappointed.  I won’t spoil the ending here, though I will say that the movie is much more successful when you know the reality-bending twist in advance, particularly since the self-congratulatory way in which it’s revealed may seem abrasive to viewers ahead of the game.  Edward Norton plays a pitch-perfect nameless sad sack (known only as “The Narrator”) who begins to find meaning in his life after the charismatic Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) begins a franchise of “fight clubs” in which men can take out their anger and recapture their masculinity in a consumerist and depersonalizing world; Helena Bonham Carter costars as Marla Singer, an intensely damaged individual whose self-hatred leads her into the path of Tyler and The Narrator.  At its best, Fight Club is classic Fincher:  dimly-lit, intensely violent, and monomaniacal in its examination of deranged, deviant personalities.  Pitt’s performance in particular stands out as one of his best; Tyler is infectiously exuberant and sadistically nuanced, allowing Pitt to show off the full range of his talents and recalling his nutty turns in Twelve Monkeys and, to a lesser extent, Burn After Reading.  What the film leaves you with is a slightly unsettling commentary on modern society that asks you to sympathize with The Narrator before abandoning you as his plans go awry; Fincher wisely avoids moralizing by leaving the ending ambiguous, asking the audience what is to be made of Fight Club and Project Mayhem.  If nothing else, it’s astounding that this is the same director who did The Social Network!

Hable con ella (2002) – It’s been a year of firsts here at The Cinema King, reviewing silent films (The Italian) and James Bond films (Skyfall) for the first time.  Now your first foreign-language film, courtesy of Pedro Almodóvar.  Hable con ella (“Talk to Her”) is an unusual film, many things at once without leaving much room for the audience to get comfortable in one genre.  Through a series of interconnected events, caregiver Benigno (Javier Cámara) and travel writer Marco (Darío Grandinetti) become friends in the hospital where the comatose loves of their lives sleep.  Marco’s relationship with the bullfighter Lydia (Rosario Flores) becomes more tragic as flashbacks and surprise reveals detail the secret she was keeping from him before her injury, while Benigno’s one-sided friendship with ballerina Alicia (Leonor Watling) becomes more unsettling as we learn more about the extent of his devotion to her.  I’m not sure what to make of this movie; it accomplishes a great deal without leaving much closer for the audience, and it seems that Almodóvar’s film is essentially a treatment of misinterpreted romantic relationships.  To that end it’s a compelling one, helped by strong performances and a willingness to let the audience put some of the major pieces together.  Grandinetti’s turn as Marco is particularly compelling, his emotional vulnerability and forthright nature reminding this viewer of Gordon Pinsent’s moving turn in 2006’s Away From Her.  The film is troubling in places (some unintentional, as I found myself a bit perturbed that the women in the film are literally reduced to bodies), but I think that Almodóvar is after just that – a destabilizing of assumptions and the revelation that everyone has something to hide, be it an emotional trauma in the past or an aberrant secret in the present.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.”  We had “Fight” today – tune in on Wednesday for Flight!

The Bourne Legacy (2012)

As the summer blockbuster season winds to a close, The Bourne Legacy revisits a familiar franchise with a new angle – one of the first “midquels” I’ve ever seen – and a common twist – “Put Jeremy Renner in it.”  Both end up being profitable decisions, as The Bourne Legacy is perhaps more enjoyable than its forerunners, “Bourne again” anew.

Taking place sometime during the events of The Bourne Ultimatum, Legacy wisely sets most of the original trilogy aside and allows filmgoers to focus not on unraveling a nebulous conspiracy but on following one man – Aaron Cross (Renner) – and his attempts to stay one step ahead of government officials (led by an extremely dedicated Edward Norton) who want him dead.  Along the way he meets up with Dr. Marta Shearing (Rachel Weisz), a scientist coming to terms with her own involvement in the supserspy program that birthed Cross – and Jason Bourne.

After stepping into Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol and representing the common-ish man in The Avengers, Jeremy Renner is wasting none of his post-Hurt Locker inertia by stepping into yet another big-league franchise.  The decision to focus entirely on Renner is a daring one, since the Bourne name is synonymous with Matt Damon, but Damon’s absence here is barely noticeable, in part because Renner’s performance as an edgy superspy is extremely compelling.  His Aaron Cross is a man forced into a difficult situation, and Renner is a master of switching between lethal force and a killer sense of humor; the transition never feels out of character.

But more importantly, the film crafts an interesting narrative around him that renders superfluous any appearance by Jason Bourne.  Director Tony Gilroy performs an almost impossible feat by making this film virtually stand-alone, never relying on what’s come before but instead guiding us through a new corner of a shared universe.  The film expands on the science behind the secret project that “created” Jason Bourne and goes deeper into the human cost of such a large-scale initiative, but it focuses more on the attempts of the government to roll up the project and obscure its existence – with Cross in the middle.

The highlight of the Bourne films has always been their intense action sequences.  Quantitatively, The Bourne Legacy contains fewer, opting for a slow burn rather than a relentless string of big moments.  When the film does explode, it does so with a few very well-directed sequences.  I won’t spoil any by describing in too great of detail, but there’s a first-rate shoot-out and a breathtaking motorcycle chase that are as well-crafted as anything else in the franchise.

While The Bourne Legacy probably won’t be the greatest movie you’ll have seen all summer, it’s an exceptionally compelling film with thrilling action sequences and a great star who knows how to get the audience on his side.  Although I can’t say for certain without rewatching the original trilogy, this may be my favorite of the Bourne films.

The Bourne Legacy is rated PG-13 for “violence and action sequences.”  That kind of says it all right there.

The Incredible Hulk (2008)

Undoubtedly and by leaps and bounds, Louis Leterrier's 2008 reboot-slash-sequel The Incredible Hulk is a vast improvement on Ang Lee's 2003 Hulk, which left an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

But, as Spencer Tracy remarks of David Wayne in Adam's Rib, "he wouldn't have far to go, either." With Ed Norton as Dr. Bruce Banner, aka The Hulk, and Tim Roth as villain Emil Blonsky, the film has a good headstart as it leaves the gate.

There's not a whole lot in the way of exposition in the movie, which from a "slugfest" point of view is a great adrenaline rush. The movie finds Banner in Brazil, with General Ross (a mustachioed William Hurt) trying to find the gamma-radiation-infected scientist. Each time the two encounter each other, Banner transforms into the not-so-jolly-green-giant Hulk and tears apart every army platoon thrown at him. Banner ultimately wants to cure his condition, while Ross wants to dissect it.

Mercifully, this incarnation is more "Hulk smash!" than Lee's "Hulk angst!" In a large way, The Incredible Hulk is a great deal like Terminator 3 - it's a chase film, plain and simple, with one party chasing another until the ultimate confrontation, replete with hand-to-hand combat, reversals of fortune, and gobs of property destruction. The special effects are, well, special and (appropriately enough) incredible. Amazing what five years can do; rather than Lee's big green blur of a Hulk, this Hulk is defined, as is his hulking adversary Abomination. The creatures, between which we're sandwiched during the epic final battle, seem more real - but not quite, yet. Give it a few more years; maybe by the 2011 Avengers movie we've been promised, we'll have a totally realistic Hulk.

I've commended Norton and Roth for the intensity and depth they bring to their characters, but the weak link in the acting chain is Liv Tyler, who replaces Jennifer Connelly as the love interest. Worst recast since Roger Moore? Probably. Tyler is boring, and we wonder what Norton could possibly see in her. Then again, Norton has a history of on-screen romances with dull women: I cite Jessica Biel's vapid turn in The Illusionist as proof positive of this unfortunate trend. Speaking of superhero girlfriends, this summer we've got a line-up of Gwyneth Paltrow (Iron Man), Tyler, and Maggie Gyllenhaal (The Dark Knight); what's next, Katherine Heigl as Wonder Woman? (Oh, please, God, no.)

All that said, there's something... off about this movie. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's Tyler's lackluster performance. Maybe it's the frustration I get at Banner's oft-repeated mantra, "I don't want to control it. I want to cure it." That's equivalent to Superman saying he would rather live in a red-sunned solarium all day rather than learn to use his powers. Or maybe it's that I expect something more from a superhero movie than constant running. Shouldn't a hero confront his problems?

The film strikes a curious final note, with an ambiguous ending for Banner. At least, the director intended it to be ambiguous. Then comes one of the best cameos in movie history - Robert Downey Jr. struts in as Tony Stark, giving that "Marvel Universe" feel to the movie. Heck, it's almost worth it to see Downey Jr. playing the role for which he was born.

Take that, Tropic Thunder.