I Want You Back Guardians

For the first time in as long as I can remember I have walked into a cinema screen and had fun; pure, unadulterated, uninterrupted fun. From the moment Chris Pratt’s Star Lord bursts into dance at the opening credits until the moment…well the moment he bursts into dance at the finale pretty much. Guardians of the Galaxy might not be the smartest film you’ll see this year or the most powerful but by God it is the one you’ll remember when December rolls round.

Part of the success is that Guardians is the first Marvel movie you can go into without needing any real understanding of the established universe. It’s not a superhero film, it doesn’t feature cameo’s from Mark Ruffulo or make reference to something important down the line. It’s a space opera taking place in a galaxy far, far away and while the influences of Star Wars, Firefly, Farscape and Cowboy Bebop are all too apparent the film has an energy and wit all of its own.

Much of that wit comes in the form of Chris Pratt’s performance as Peter Quill, a human abducted from Earth as a child who, twenty-six years later, is now trying to establish himself as the outlaw Star Lord. His cocksure, space cowboy persona is a fun opening gimmick but watching it get undercut by how little it means is what seals the deal. Quill’s dedication to the pop culture tropes and references of Earth reinforce his tragic characterisation as a kid trapped in a man’s body trying to imitate Han Solo. Make no mistake people Quill is no John Crichton and if his companions fail to get his remarks about The Maltese Falcon or Footloose it’s all part of the gag. 

Of course it’s mostly Star Lord’s that kick of the plot when he retrieves a mysterious orb from a dead planet. The orb is sought by Ronan the Accuser a genocidal manic who wants to use it to destroy his enemy the Xandarians(just get used to the weird names here) and so sends his living weapon Gamora to steal it from Quill. Meanwhile Quill has a bounty on his head that draws the attention of Rocket Raccoon and Groot, a tree-person whose vocab is limited to ‘I am Groot’. In the end they all clash on Xandar and end up in prison where they meet Drax the Destroyer,a bruiser with a score to settle with Ronan. There the five agree to team up, sell the orb and split the cash.

Then things take a turn of formula. Turns out the orb is a planet-destroying weapon and the gang need to put their interests aside for greater good and yadda yadda yadda. Yeah part of Guardians fault is that it spends a lot of time trying to ignore the whole big picture altruism that heroes are supposed to have. So much so that it can’t quite sell everyone’s turn for good when it’s time for the big space battle.

This is largely down to the portrayal of Gamora. Not Zoe Saldana mind, who does a good job of balancing her effortless badassery with the exasperated straight woman role. No the problem is that Gamora has the most significant role in the plot outside of Quill, with her betrayal of Ronan forcing the Guardians together and her horror at the orb’s power the instigator for their last hurrah. This is all fine stuff but it’s never backed up by anything. There’s no destruction of Alderran that drives home the monstrosity of Ronan, no moment for her to reflect that what he could do with this kind of force. Compare this with Karen Gillan’s Nebula who breathes resentment for Gamora and their shared father Thanos the Mad Titan. At the end when Nebula betrays her father for Ronan it’s all too clear why she does this. With Gamora there is no such scene.

Gamora isn’t the only plot contrivance pushing the characters along though. An extended scene with the orbs would-be buyer Taneleer Tivan (last seen after the credits of Thor: The Dark World). Benicio Del Toro gives a delightfully camp performance but can’t escape the fact that he is simply explaining the purpose of the orb for the sake of plot. Thankfully though his scenes provide a new environment for the Guardian’s antics and another colourful action beat.

That’s the thing, significant though they may be the problems with Guardians never overshadows the level of fun, humour and action that the film has. The entire supporting cast is a riot, Dave Batista in particular kills as the entirely literal Drax. While Groot isn’t exactly Hodor the ‘I am Groot’ never gets old and his emotional intelligence paves the way for an incredibly affecting payoff. And look at that I finally managed to get through a Bradley Cooper film without my bum going to sleep. 

Other than that Guardians of the Galaxy is a ride, an energetic exciting ride that begs to be repeated. Yes it’s formulaic but formula can be a great jumping point for inventive action scenes, consistently funny characters and a universe of tricks and toys to be played with. Well worth a watch again and again.

American Hustle: The Strange Effects of Bradley Cooper

Does anyone else have this problem? Lately it seems like whenever I watch a film starring Bradley Cooper it feels like time passes much more slowly. I first noticed it during The Place Beyond the Pines and just put it down to the film being badly in need of a good editor. After all the film spans multiple years, characters and generation and it would only take a little tweaking to the story a more fluid feel and spare my legs the DVT.

American Hustle however follows the same ensemble through events that spanned a few years yet somehow feels longer than the time Solomon Northup spent picking cotton. Partially because all notion of progression over time is lost in a series of non sequitar scenes with seemingly no bearing on the bigger picture. The actual mechanics of the Abscam Scandal, on which the film is based is lost among petty confrontations as the main players try to out-annoy each other. It's like Ocean's Eleven if you replaced all the exposition and heist planning with George Clooney and Brad Pitt engaged in a series of slap fights. Entertaining yes, but it robs the film of drama.

The film can't seem to make its mind up on what it wants to achieve from act one. As Cooper's FBI Agent Richie DiMaso rumbles con artists Irving Rosenfield (Christian Bale) and Sydney Prosser/Edith Greensley (Amy Adams, donning a variety of ostentatious accents) he blackmails them into lining up four additional arrests. Then it's just altruistic politician Carmine Polito, then it's a prominent mob boss, then it's ten congressmen, which point it needs a really elaborate con to arrest my interest.

The film is so bloated and unstructured that it ends up pushing potentially interesting story elements to the margins. Irving's doomed friendship with Carmine and Jennifer Lawrence's standout performance as his oblivious wife barely get a look in. Particularly egregious when you consider how much Lawrence has featured in the films marketing relative to her actual screen time.

Lawrence's role, both in characterisation and accent, is practically a microcosm of the films goofy tone and over-the-top aesthetics. Big hair, low-cut dresses and valour suits. All of which work for a consistently comedic tone which the film carries for the majority of its run...right up until it doesn't. Suddenly the film takes a really dark turn, the kind the Coen Brothers could make work but comes out of left-field in director David O. Russell's hands.

It isn't helped by coming around the fifth act when you're already hoping for an ending. Nor the fact that the culprit is DiMaso, the petulant, perpetually dissatisfied perm-job who's been begging for slap the entire film. And while his actions make sense in terms of his character the fact that everyone keeps working with him adds a grim air to subsequent scenes.

American Hustle's worst crime is simply not knowing what it wants to be. An outlandish premise and thoroughly game cast are the ingredients for a fun, campy crime caper. But the total absence of pace, tension and context makes the film little more than disposable fun. Then ruins the fun in its determination to emulate Goodfellas. In fact at one point a cameo from a Goodfellas star elevates the films entire mood and quality into something truly nail biting. As though Scorsese is sending a cinematic messenger to Russell saying 'You think you're ready to take the reins, you ain't ready to take 'em an I ain't givin' 'em up.'