I'm very torn over the original Star Trek series. I'm too young for it; I grew up in the 1980s with the original cast films - which I loved and still do - but my real adoration for Trek began with The Next Generation and then especially Deep Space Nine. The original Star Trek is a very different show from any of that, and I have to look at it with a different mindset to try and appreciate it. I don't have any nostalgia colouring my view.
To put it bluntly, it's horribly dated and oftentimes difficult to watch or enjoy. It's campy and looks very cheap. BUT, it's saving grace is how good the actors, writing and characters are. They brought the show to life, and at points made it a complete joy. For the time it was made it did incredible things with progressive storytelling and strong special effects.
I'm never going to love the original series, or even really get it. It's not my Star Trek, but it has its place in history and that can't be denied. I feel it got it chance to shine when it moved into the film format (conversely, TNG and the rest of the franchise worked far better on TV than as films).
Such a mess of a movie.
I didn' t expect much and haven't watched the trailer before but apparently this movie is focusing on the younger audience only and not on the people who watched the first movie back in the day. It's one of these moments when you realize you get old.
Way too young cast, a dumb plot, so no-one needs to think about anything, degrading this movie to a shut-your-brain-off popcorn flick/time waster you forget instantly after leaving the cinema, clichès as far as the eyes can see, cringe dialogues, incredibly studid decisions by humans and aliens.
Liam Hemsworth is the actor to draw in the young audience and a total miscast for this kind of movie but he fits in with all the other young actors who are out of place as well. But that also means he will be the more or less tragic or cool hero and "win" a gorgeous woman at the end of the movie. How could it be different?
Hemsworth's literally horny sidekick is annoying the moment he appears, throughout the whole movie and is the deliberate comic relief and simply hateable as his character is written so blatantly obvious and without any care. You instantly know what trope his character is and what role he will have the rest of the movie.
You are in the alien ship and he carelessly jumpscares you: haha, how funny!
He's talking loudly, called out on it to be quiet and keeps going being loud, endangering all of them: haha, how funny!
He is fawning over the beautiful, "unreachable" daughter of the chief in command on the moonbase we all know he will get later anyway for no reason other than "we went through this sh*t together": soo original.
Liam Hemsworth is peeing in front of the aliens to distract them: haha, how funny and mature.
...and the aliens even fall for that crap.
The whole movie could only happen in its entirety because of the first major decision that was made for no other reason than plot.
Levinson is some kind of an authority when it comes to aliens but he is ignored to enable the movie when he says not to fire at that spherical spaceship, that looks so difficult to the others and behaves totally different as well. That appearance wasn't even foreshadowing, it was an obvious spoiler to how they would be able to win this time against the aliens and took out any kind of suspense there could have been from the get go.
The movie is predictable all the time and doesn't even try to avoid (or hide) it, ultimately leading to me not being entertained at all.
Recurring actors were all a total waste, except perhaps for Goldblum.
Brent Spiner, who plays Dr. Okun, was additionally unbelievable and simply unnecessary.
Using a poweroff button as sign for the resistance against the aliens was preeeetty lazy as well in the design department.
Easy cash grab movie. I have no doubt the next ID movie will be even worse. Here goes my hope for a good Stargate reboot down the drain. I hoped it would give the franchise a possibility to relaunch a series or so but I heavily doubt that now.
But to not only say negative things about this movie: the CGI effects weren't bad.
Before Anthony and Joe Russo were directing superhero movies, they worked on a little show called Community. The series, oddly enough, had some common ground with The Avengers. Both were about seven people from different backgrounds who came in with their own damage, bounced off one another in interesting ways, but would, now and then, come together to do amazing things.
But one of the most remarkable things about the was its mastery of tone. The series was pitched as a comedy, and true to that billing, it was a damn funny show. And yet it could just as easily shift into something quiet and personal, something unremittingly dark, or something complex and difficult without the easy answers that are seemingly required on a network sitcom.
So when watching Captain America: Civil War, I couldn’t help but see how the Russos had brought that amazing ability to balance different characters and tones and translated it onto a much bigger stage without missing a beat.
Because Civil War is hilarious. It is action-packed and all kinds of fun. It’s full of impressive moments and inventive sequences and fights big and small that are filled with feeling and imagination. And at the same time it is, in its own way, a very dark film. It touches on big ideas like moral responsibility and guilt and the dangers of unchained power, but grounds them in characters, and individual moment, and personal relationships. It is a smorgasbord of moods and stories that makes you laugh, makes you gasp, and make you feel the tragedy of a given moment, without letting it clash. And that is one hell of an achievement.
That achievement is all the more impressive given how many moving parts there were to this clockwork behemoth of a film. Civil War features no fewer than twelve heroes, three major villains, and a bevy of supporting characters, and nearly all them get a moment in the sun. Nevermind the fact that on top of all of this, the film had to introduce two new characters slated to get their own films -- one of whom was under the radar for most non-comic book fans, and another who was laden with the expectations that come from being a household name with two prior uneven franchises under his belt.
But Black Panther was far from a third wheel amid the super-powered clash at the top of the card, and his motivations and outsider status with The Avengers gave him a unique role to play in the narrative, an important arc in the film. Spider-Man, for his part, had the kind of chummy-if-overwhelmed vibe with Tony Stark that you’d hope for, and proved himself an enjoyably free spirit in the big battle. And everyone else in the film, from Ant-Man’s show-stealing humor, to Vision and Scarlet Witch’s endearing connection, to Rhodey’s loss, had an important part to play, without anyone getting lost in the shuffle.
That balance is made all the more difficult by how much oxygen Captain America and Iron Man take up at the top of the card. There is a history between the two characters. They have never seen eye-to-eye, and the films in the MCU have never shied away from that, even as they’ve brought the two of them together for their shared struggles. And again, Civil War does well by using the disagreements and difference between these two men as symbols for a larger debate, for bigger issues between them, while never detracting from the personal side of their beef.
To be frank, it took some work to convince me that Tony Stark would be in favor of the Sokovia Accords, which put The Avengers under the supervision of a U.N. Committee. And yet, the film shows Tony’s interaction with a woman whose son perished in the rubble of Sokovia. He’s seen the collateral damage of their actions and he’s feeling the guilt of it. The film does well to couch Stark’s position in terms of his weapons dealing -- he made his living in an industry where his seemingly harmless actions were leading to innocent people being hurt and killed, and he realized he had to do something. For Tony, this is no different. He’s worried about the collateral damage from their actions.
Steve Rogers, for his part, is understandably much less trusting of government supervision. He’s the one who blanched at the discovery that Shield was using Hydra technology to create weapons; he’s the one who saw Hydra take over the organization he worked for from the inside, and use good people to ill-ends, and he’s the one who’s seen his best friend brainwashed and used as a weapon for geopolitical conflict when the higher ups felt it necessary.
At the same time, he’s also concerned about there being a need that he can’t respond to because of red tape. He’s worried that innocent people will suffer, that people who need saving won’t be saved, because the people who try to do right will be too hamstrung by procedure and approval while the good people suffer. He’s worried about the collateral damage from their inaction.
But these are not simply grand philosophical difference between the two of them. Civil War ties it into their unique psychological baggage, which comes to a head in a confrontation between the two of them in the second act of the film. Tony has lost the people in his life that matter to him -- Pepper and his parents, and their absence casts a major shadow over his part of the film. This fight, this struggle, has kept him from the parts of his life that made it all worth it for him, that gave him his Batman-like need to protect them, to create a world where no one would have to suffer that kind of loss.
But Steve, despite his status as a man out of town, found his family. The Avengers, new and old, gave him a place where he felt like he belonged, people who had fought alongside him like the Howling Commandos once had, and became his brothers and sisters in arms. Steve is this close to signing the accords until he finds out that because of them, Tony has Wanda Maximoff under what amounts to house arrest. That’s a bridge too far for Captain America. He isn’t worried about getting people back; he’s worried about outside forces taking them away.
So there is a schism, caused by Secretary (nee General) Ross from above, and Zemo from below. The former is the liaison of the Sokovia accords, who attempts to maneuver his way into corralling more superheroes after his run-ins Hulk, and the latter is a man who lost his family thanks to The Avengers, and is determined to use any means necessary to tear them apart, to have their empire crumble from within. And in the middle of that schism is Black Widow, who’s pragmatic enough to know that Tony’s right in the logistics of it all--that they’ll get a better deal agreeing to conditions than having them forced on the group, but sympathetic enough to understand why Steve can’t get on board, what his connection to her and this group means, and the threat posed by anything with the ability to forcibly sever it.
And then there’s Bucky. While Black Widow is a tie that brings Captain America and Iron Man together, The Winter Soldier is a wedge that drives them apart. When Steve sees Bucky, he sees his childhood friend, the one who knows his mother’s name and, with the death of Peggy Carter, is his last real tie to the life he used to live and the man he used to be. He sees family, and connection.
But when Stark sees him, he sees, by dint of Zemo’s machinations, the man who killed his parents, who took away his last chance to tell his father that he loved him, who, brainwashing or no brainwashing, snuffed out a light that Tony needed desperately in times like these. He sees the end of family, and the severing of a connection he will never be able to get back.
That’s what makes Civil War so powerful. In a genre of escalating bombast, it brings the conflict back to the small and personal. The film’s opening action scene gives a moment in the spotlight to each of the new Avengers; the subsequent chases and rumbles featuring The Winter Soldier are a visual treat, and it all culminates in an internecine conflict among the heroes that stands as one of the most creative, entertaining, and thrilling action set pieces since the Battle of New York in the first Avengers film.
But instead of that continued escalation, the film narrows its focus after that. The climax of the film comes from a personal reveal -- not only that Bucky was the Starks’ assassin, but that Steve knew and had the gist of it, if not the specifics, but never said a word. A film with so many characters and themes and stories comes down to a conflict between three people. That is the heart of the film -- a dispute, a wedge, that is as personal as it is philosophical, that is as meaningful because of the characters as we’ve watched them grow and develop as because of the fact that it’s two icons locked in combat with one another.
And that too, was one of Community’s strengths. For as outrageous and absurd and cartoony as the show could get, at its best, it drew all that weirdness and humor and conflict back down to the simple, emotional, and human. Tony Stark is still quick with a witty, sarcastic remark. Steve Rogers can still take a beating and deliver one in return. And their conflict is the culmination of more than that, of difference of opinion, of lifestyle, of their place in life and their place in relation to one another, with their team and their family.
As grandiose and ambitious and multi-faceted a film and narrative as Civil War presents, at its core, it’s a story about two people who care about each other breaking away, about the elements of their relationships and their histories and psyches that drives them to do it, and the extraordinarily human reasons that both pull them back together and tear them apart. These are the kinds of themes the Russos brought with them from their old gig, and they make Civil War more than just the flash and excitement of the good guys coming to blows; it’s a film that crystallizes from the connections between its characters, between the emotions and experiences that drive them, between the humanity, humor, and heart that drives the Marvel Cinematic Universe and produced what may be its greatest film to date.
The Winter Soldier is a different kind of beast to most Marvel Cinematic Universe films. The franchise is largely known for its mix of typical superhero action and comedy one liners, but Captain America: The Winter Soldier delivers something different. Whilst, yes, it's still a Marvel superhero film and therefore contains all of the heroics that you would typically expect, the tone is much more grounded and serious.
I watched this film tonight on Blu-ray 3D, and let me tell you the 3D is absolutely incredible. Shields fly out, guns protrude out of the screen and Falcon (Anthony Mackie) flies right towards your eyes. It's a truly breathtaking experience, and one that I would recommend to anyone who is a fan of the MCU.
3D always tends to work well with films that contain plenty of intense action sequences, for reasons which are pretty obvious (3D being all about offering spectacle). So it helps that the Winter Soldier has some of the greatest action sequences in the entire MCU. From the opening fight on the boat to the amazing and truly iconic elevator sequence ("Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?"), the action is so well choreographed. The cinematography is on point too, shot with this shaky cam style that offers some real grit to proceedings. It feels like something straight out of a Paul Greengrass Jason Bourne movie, and it gives this film a really distinct and unique flavour away from the rest of Marvel Studio's filmography.
It's something that judging by the trailers, I can imagine the upcoming Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) movie having a similar style to, especially as her scenes here are some of the highlights of this movie by far. She's always been one of my favourite characters in the MCU, because she has this really mysterious back story that's honestly quite intriguing; we learn a little more information about it here, as well as get some fight sequences that honestly manage to rival Steve Rodger's (Chris Evans) superhero antics in the film.
One thing that's really weird is seeing Agent Carter (Hayley Atwell) as an old lady. It feels so odd seeing Hayley Atwell in elderly make-up, given that we are so used to seeing her look so much younger. Her scenes with Steve are tragic though, as Steve pays her a visit and we see she has some form of dementia. It's sad seeing her suddenly act as though she's just seen Steve for the first time since World War 2, and forgetting that she'd already seen him since. It's handled so well too, as this is what dementia is like when you know somebody with it. You live through that pain of them slowly starting to lose their memory of you, like this cruel disease that keeps eating away at their brain.
It's clever how this is reflected in the story of the Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan). Like Peggy, he too has been losing his memories in regards to Steve, although in this case it is due to his Hydra brainwashing rather than any form of dementia. The script really plays into this, as we see Steve's determination to trigger Bucky into remembering, and it recalls his stance from the previous film, 'I can do this all day'. Steve doesn't give up on his friend, he keeps pushing for him to break the immoral programming that Hydra have placed him under. He knows his friend is still there, and can bypass the killing machine Hydra have turned him into, and he won't stop until he gets through to him.
This film is also the first to introduce Sam Wilson/The Falcon (Anthony Mackie), who will of course later become Captain America himself. Already you can see the qualities that will later make him a worthy holder of the shield. He's someone who will always help, who believes in Captain America and shows a great degree of loyalty towards the cause of battling those who seek to spread hate or misery. Sam, in short, is the perfect fit for the tales of Captain America, and it's not hard to see what Steve Rodgers likes about him.
Armin Zola (Toby Jones) returns in this film, this time with his mind inside a computer. He has created an algorithm of those he considers to be a threat to Hydra, both in the present and the future, and Hydra plan to use 'Project Insight' to eliminate these threats. This is a prime example of one of the elements I like the most about this sequel. It brings back so many past memories for Steve Rodgers; from Bucky to Hydra and Armin Zola, it's like his past is coming back to haunt him, like ghosts who will not leave him alone. It means that despite the now modern setting, it still feels intrinsically tied to The First Avenger. The algorithm allows them to throw in some really cool hints to future aspects of the MCU, such as Stephen Strange (who would later pop up in his own solo film, entitled Doctor Strange). It has that really strong thematic through line of the past and present (with hints of the future) colliding throughout, and it works extremely well.
Overall, Captain America: The Winter Soldier is a prime example of how to write a sequel. It keeps its thematic ties with the original film, whilst also offering something fresh, new and distinct. This is one of those rare cases where the sequel is better than the first film, and it's no wonder that the MCU still looks to it for inspiration.
The backstory episode is kind of a cliche. Take one of two characters; intersperse scenes from the past that inform scenes from the present; show the contrast between who a person is now who they were along the journey to become that person. But it's a trope because it's effective.
It's nice to know where Peggy Carter comes from. Hers was the better of the two parallel stories, which contrast the ways in which Whitney Frost tried to be something different and was taught to be something traditional, and the ways in which Peggy Carter tried to be something traditional and was taught to be--true to her nature--something different. Peggy's mother and brother are sketches, with thumbnail personalities that feel more fleshed out than they are through the roles they play in her story. Peggy's mother is the standard mom of a precocious young girl, chiding her to be more ladylike and apparently forgetting her handkerchief across decades. And Peggy's brother is the standard sibling tormentor who, as revealed by his recommending Peggy for field work and encouraging her not to live the life that her mother expects her to live, sees who she is deep down.
It's a bit pat, to be sure, but it's also the most impactful element of her story. It would be easy to make Peggy Carter someone who was fully-formed from the beginning, a bold and talented agitator from the word go who cast of the shackles of tradition and expectations from the beginning. But the idea that the smart, strong woman we've seen since The First Avenger was always within Peggy, but had been muted by the world in which she grew up, and it took the recognition and death of a loved one to motivate her to find it again, is deft stroke from the folks behind Agent Carter. True, the death-as-catalyst concept is a cliche in and of itself, and the imagery of the engagement ring and recruitment letter is far from subtle, but for a show that hews toward popcorn, it was a strong story.
The dark parallel to Peggy, as shown in the flashbacks to Whitney Frost's upbringing, were not nearly as well-crafted or interesting. The idea of the bright young girl who sees her mother valued by a male-dominated society for her looks, and is taught to suppress her intelligence for her more aesthetic qualities is a hoary tale as well. What's more, Whitney's flashbacks are much louder about driving this point home than were Peggy's. On the other hand, showing how Whitney split the difference, how she learned to use her pretty face to take advantage of men like her would-be agent, or Calvin Chadwick, makes her an interesting shaded reflection of Peggy.
The show quite consciously draws a parallel between the two of them, and shows how each found a different path to utilizing their talents in a world that undervalued them. The connection carries to the present, where Peggy proves effective in interrogating Chadwick's henchman through her wits and intuition, and Whitney handles the same fly in the ointment in much deadlier fashion. Each is faced with a similar challenge, and while they find differing solutions to the problem, the show sets up the reasons for their different approaches quite well. I just wish the execution--replete with Jessica Jones-esque encouragements to smile, had been a little less tidy and on-the-nose.
But even when this show leans into holding the audience's hand through the themes it's drawing out, the comedic rapport between Hayley Atwell and James D'Arcy sustains it as a reliably enjoyable part of every episode. Peggy and Jarvis have a wonderful chemistry together, with Jarvis's shock at the realization that Hans was their near-assassin, and Peggy's almost annoyed bemusement that he keeps recovering from being tranquilized were highlights buoyed by the pair's timing and shared rhythms. It's clear that the series would not work nearly as well without their shared talents.
Were that the romantic elements of the show were anywhere near as successful. Wilkes continues to be a fairly bland presence this season, and he and Peggy don't have nearly the shared smolder that the overbearing score attempts to impart for them. The idea that after his incident, there is a void, or something other, calling to him, is an interesting one, but the character himself isn't all that compelling. On the other side of the coin, Sousa's puppy dog act with Peggy grows tiresome as well. Sousa's not a bad character necessarily, he's just kind of there, fulfilling a very specific, but not all that intriguing role as the big hunk of white bread with a barely suppressed crush on the series's lead who believes in her without (explicitly) betraying his feelings. Neither of these nigh-love interests detract so much from the story, they just feel like unnecessary detours between Peggy unraveling this year's mystery and going on much more entertaining misadventures with Jarvis.
That's the clear strength of Agent Carter. It has the strongest lead in Marvel's television offerings, and lets Atwell carry the show, in both its comedic and dramatic moments. There's a crackle to Atwell's performance, both in the scenes where she's finding out how to get her captive to talk, or making off-the-cuff excuses for the odd sights and sounds coming from her car, or breaking down at the death of her brother. Wynn Everett performance as Frost can't quite match her heroic counterpart's talents, but she still sells the balance of her characters fears, scars, and convictions.
Again, providing backstory to the big villain and the big hero at the same time is nothing new. But Carter and Frost are two of the show's strongest characters, and taking some time to examine how they became the effective, yet very different women they are today is a fruitful exercise on the way to the pair's inevitable confrontation. Each found themselves with talents that didn't fit the expectations of their gender at the time. One found encouragement from a loved one to be true to herself, while the other was taught to use her more gender-normative qualities to her advantage. It's a nice contrast, and while neither plot broke any new ground, and the story beats were not terribly nuanced, the different roads these women went down, and how it brought them to day, is a story worth telling.
