Of all the Marvel Cinematic Universe films so far, the
latest, Avengers: Infinity War, is
certainly the very loudest. I suppose it has a right to be. Billed as the
Series Finale when anyone with a working brain knows it’s merely the biggest
Season Finale yet, it’s the culmination of ten years of these things. Ever
since Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury stepped out in the post-credits scene of
2008’s relatively compact, swift, and charming Iron Man, promising to introduce that hero to a few others, it’s
been an endless string of formulaic origins and meetups. At least the formula –
90 minutes of exposition, banter, and fun with character actors, followed by a
30-minute CGI shooting gallery – remains sturdy enough, and the performances
roped in charismatic enough – that it rarely feels too much. They vary in
quality. I prefer the looser hangouts where the action has a zing of screwball
B-movie appeal (Iron Man 2, Avengers 2,
Thor 2, Spider-Man Homecoming) or earnestness (Captain America 1, Black Panther) to the ponderous self-important
ones (Captain Americas 2 and 3) with
the ones in between tolerable, too. But generally they are completely
disposable diversions. I enjoy them, and then they evaporate, leaving only
vague impressions and the sense they should bring back Sam Rockwell someday. Infinity War is what all 18 films have
built towards, the culmination of many Infinity Gem MacGuffins and Thanos
references, as the purple titan himself (voiced with a growl by Josh Brolin,
whose likeness stares back at us from soulful computerized eyes) comes crashing
down to Earth looking for ultimate power, and two dozen heroes assemble to beat
him back.
This results in apocalyptic sequences as the characters are
genuinely frightened for once in the franchise. Their quips pale in comparison
to a man wielding an enormous gold gauntlet slowly studded with the glowing
powers needed to wipe out half of existence in the snap of his fingers. When a
ginormous whirring oval spaceship hovers over New York City, there are ominous
stakes as Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), and Iron
Man (Robert Downey Jr) mix worry into their determination. They all want to
defeat Thanos – once they’re caught up on his plan, that is – but aren’t sure
how to go about doing it. He’s already one of the galaxy’s most powerful
beings, with an evil plot nigh incomprehensible in its universe-wide genocidal
scope. What are a bunch of plucky knockabout do-gooders going to do in the face
of that? Still, this is a Marvel movie, and the jokes fly fast and frequent,
and, as directed by the Russo brothers and scripted by series’ regular writers Christopher
Markus and Stephen McFeely, ably balances the tones. It also shuffles a
massive cast in interesting ways, letting characters hitherto separated by time
and space collide in fun exchanges and tenuous team-ups in bright, clear, IMAX cinematography.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that it leans on its best
features – letting Spider-Man (Tom Holland) earnestly tag along behind Stark
and Strange, and ceding all of the film’s galactic plotting to the winning
combination of the Guardians of the Galaxy (Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave
Bautista, et al) and Thor (Chris Hemsworth). (They are the funniest and, funnily
enough, the most emotionally engaged, too.) It’s something of a screenwriting
and editing marvel (oh, pun not intended, believe me, but now I’m sticking with
it anyway) to keep something like 30 major speaking roles – all major players
in their respective realms – and a couple different tonal modes balanced to
such a successful extent. Part of it is the streamlined plot, subplots carried
over mostly shunted to the side due to the enormity of the main dilemma,
allowing the characters to focus on one goal. Part of it is giving different
pieces of the goal to different smaller team-ups: a cosmic crew, an Earthbound
squad (led by Captain America (Chris Evans), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson),
and a stay with T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) in Wakanda), and one travelling
between. It’s perfectly engineered to bounce between these groupings of heroes,
giving each and every one a crowd-pleasing entrance and perfectly timed laugh
line or action pose throughout.
These performers have a certain iconoclasm to their
positioning in the roles by now, and it’s great fun watching them spar and quip
and fight side by side. The action is largely satisfying, too. Not quite as deadening
as usual, it has heft and design, some cleverness, and some big, booming
consequences (that will inevitably be almost or entirely reversed next summer,
but are still satisfying shock in the moment). Best of all are the
applause-break splash panel moments – my favorite goes to a thrilling
late-breaking electric return in the battle royale finale. It may be a big,
dumb, violent cartoon, but improbably Marvel Cinematic Universe productions
have accumulated affection and accrued pleasures that outweigh any individual
film’s successes and flaws. It’s a high-budget, high-spirit corporate product.
It’s blockbuster serialized filmmaking, a massive sporadic television
production on the big screen. The only gamble is that we’ll want to see our
favorite charming superhero buddies pummeled and bloodied and beaten down to
their lowest point yet, and still clamor to see them bounce back again, and
again, and again. As long as the movies are this passably satisfying, agreeably
diverting, and leave the audience just curious enough to see what happens next,
they will. Infinity War, indeed.
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