Marvel’s hotly anticipated new release proves just as underwhelming as their other recent ventures.
By Dylan Jones
Despite starting off as a unique and refreshing splash of colour in the relatively bleak world of 21st century cinema, Marvel Studios have, for a good few years now, been nothing but an underwhelming PR machine.
Insultingly mainstream and mind-numblingly special effects laden, they’ve gone from exciting and intelligent social commentary like the original X-Men and Spiderman 2, to brainless mulch like Guardians of The Galaxy and Avengers.
Bizarrely, despite inexcusably wooden dialogue, bad acting, and gaping plot-holes, they’ve all received great responses from review aggregators. Maybe there’s something we’re missing. Or maybe it’s just because most film reviewers are complete losers, with immaculate collections of Marvel action figures (still in their original boxes, mint condition).
Or perhaps we just don’t connect with them as a gay men. Come to think of it, Marvel Movies are notably void of significant gay characters. And significant female characters. And significant black characters. Which explains why they’ve done so well commercially. Chuck in a pretty white cast and some high-budget explosions and you’ve got a guaranteed box office hit.
Although, to be fair to the latest release from the Marvel Universe, Doctor Strange, it’s actually not bad, as Marvel Movies go. Benedict Cumberbatch plays pigheaded neurosurgeon Stephen Strange. Living as a wealthy bachelor in New York, his life is turned upside down (literally) when his car flips over and he loses the use of his hands in the accident. He is rendered useless at his job and, as a result, everything else. He goes on a journey of healing and enlightenment, learns how to manipulate molecules, develops superpowers, and saves the world. Obvs.
Rachel McAdams (Regina George) is in it too, as Strange’s long-suffering best friend/former lover, who as far as we can tell, lives in the neurology wing of the hospital and never leaves. She’s a downtrodden and boring character. It would have been better if she’d just played Regina George. “Hey Doctor Strange, did you hear about Black Widow? She dropped out of The Avengers because no one would talk to her, and when she came back for Avengers 2, all of her hair was cut off and she was totally weird, and now I guess she’s on crack.”
I’ve always disliked Benedict Cumberbatch. He’s from that smarmy Oxbridge educated crop of young British actors that are doing so well at the moment because Asia loves them. Your Cumberbatches and your Redmaynes and your Hiddlestons. But in this he was actually very good. Considering how unrealistic and ridiculous the whole movie was, he retained a convincing sense of humanity. He was also, unexpectedly, quite funny, delivering silly lines with a camp flourish.
The highlight though, of course, was Tilda Swinton. Her character, known only as “The Ancient One” is a Celtic mystic who lives in a Tibetan monastery and practices the ways of the Mystic Arts (eyeroll). She’s amazing in it though. Well, really, she’s amazing in everything. It’s that ethereal icy composure. She’s particularly intense in this though, swirling through it like Jackie Chan crossed with Pema Chodron. The film was accused of whitewashing by casting her instead of an Asian actor, but actually it was fine. The entire film is so bizarre anyway, that a Scottish actor turning up in Tibet isn’t too jarring. And besides, her character is Celtic so it makes sense and it was all in proper context. Time for the cultural appropriation brigade to take several seats.
Another high point was the visuals! Stunning, wonderfully imaginative, and highly ambitious in their scope. We were twirled through galaxies, slingshotted past planets, catapulated into nebulas, and everything had a sort of sixties geometric aesthetic, like Pink Floyd album artwork.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to distract from the fact that this film is just…a bit boring. It’s not AWFUL. There’s certainly enough there to keep you entertained (although you might find yourself checking your phone after the first two hours). It’s just nothing to write home about. It’s just fine. And JUST FINE, is not good enough! For 2016’s unshockable, Netflix-generation audiences, action movies have to not just pull out all the stops, but pull out all the stops then hurl them off an electric-purple waterfall. Bye Doctor Strange! Everyone will have forgotten about you by Christmas.
Doctor Strange is out now.
