Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

"The (10th) Greatest Marvel Film Since Avengers: Endgame!"

or

"The Ballad of Rocket Raccoon"

 

I notice an up-tick in the number of people who looked at my review of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. I've long since stopped trying to figure out the patterns of what people are looking at, but I suppose it had something to do withe the release of Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3—the movie that James Gunn was working on when he got hired as the High Evolutionary of the DC Movie Universe.

But, there was no incentive to see it. I haven't watched the last couple of Marvel movies, as they've been sputtering as far as quality, depending on call-backs, cameos, or with no clear sense of where things are going—other than contracts need to be fulfilled, promises made must be delivered on, and a general running-in-place while Kevin Feige tries to come up with a follow-up to the colossal success that was the first batch of Marvel movies. It seemed like, at those times, they were taking chances, swinging for the fences, and hitting home-tuns. Now, it seems they're just counting the receipts, waiting for the Next Big Thing to happen.

 

Trouble is the fan-base is lying in wait. Disappointments among the "TrueFans" may collapse the enterprise like a stack of back-issues no one's bothered to box.

 

Still, folks DID look at the review. I made a point to see it. 

How is it? A pretty good send-off, actually, while being something different. It's an origin story of sorts—of how Rocket the Raccoon (voiced again by Bradley Cooper) came to be a wise-cracking, take-no-prisoners, but still fuzzy-funny animal came to be, mostly told in flash-back, after he is left near-death after an attack on Guardians of the Galaxy HQ (Planet Knowhere) by Adam Warlock (Will Poulter). The super-powered Warlock is on a mission to steal the mercurial mammal for his mother, Queen Ayesha (Elizabeth Debicki) of the Sovereigns at the behest of The High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji), a sort of gene-split Dr. Mengele/Dr. Moreau of Space, who's on a mission to create the perfect utopia based on his manipulating evolutionary traits.

Yeah, that trick NEVER works, but His Highness (Evolutionarily) wants Rocket—or as he designates him, Test Subject "89P13"—back, as the little varmint was the only test subject of his that displayed original thought, and may be the key to achieving his perfect utopia. Too bad that the way to get him back puts him in a coma.

The Guardians band together to try to save Rocket's life, but discover that he has an implanted kill-switch on his heart that will explode him if they trying any extraordinary efforts to save him. But, Peter "The Star-Lord" Quill (Chris Pratt), still nursing a broken heart after losing his lost love Gamora (Zoe Saldana) during the events of "The Blip"—then getting back an earlier version of her that can't stand him—determines that he's going to find the code to disable the kill-switch and save his little bandit-buddy, even if he has to travel the Galaxy, kill a bunch of multi-legged creatures and even *gulp* face his ex-girl-friend to do it.

And so, they do, over 2½ hours (which feels it, probably due to some rocky transitions that director Gunn has trouble with), meeting new friends and old friends of Gunn's in new roles (Nathan Fillion, anyone?), squeezing in Sylvester Stallone (the guy cannot handle tech-talk), Liz Debicki, and even an appearance by Howard the Duck (voiced by Seth Green, nice), and actually providing "I'm worth-being-here" arcs to Mantis (Pom Klementief) and Kraglin (Sean Gunn). Plus, we get another example of why Karen Gillan may be the most unsung-acting hero in the MCU and a "giving it 100%" performance by Pratt. Throw in a talking space-dog (voiced by Maria Bakalova—"He just called me 'a BAD DOG!'") and you have a vast cornucopia of cutesiness mixed in with Gunn's "ick" factor. Call it "Anthropro-Marvel"—the place where the studio can really get silly (even by comic-book standards).*

Take, for example, the look of the High Evolutionary's Orgosphere—an organic planet made out of meat—which is pure 20th Century Fox sci-fi tacky, ala Fantastic Voyage or Barbarella. It has the look of spareness, but the detail of something well-considered, rather than what the budget could spare. And one just knows, going along that one is missing a gazillion references stuffed into the thing with minor characters and such, but, frankly, there's enough for the non-Marvel Zombie to appreciate.

At the same time, there's a nice little message about universality and worth, where one's lab-rat could just be worth saving if only they were noticed. It's an extension of the original GotG movie, where everyone was, basically, a cast-off, but were worth more than the sum of their parts put together. Here, no one's a loser, except for the one's who never would have suspected they were in the first place. And, once again, it shows that although Gunn will always make films that feel tough-as-nails-cynical, they still have a core of sentimentality to them that puts them a notch above the usual super-hero fare.

 

It's a good movie for the series to go out on (if, indeed, it ends).

* Although judging by the Marvels trailer, they're not going to stop there.

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk

Kevlar vs. Papier Mâché
or
That's Life in War-Time (That's Life in America)

It's hard to say just how good a film Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk is because no one outside of Los Angeles and New York has seen it in the way director Ang Lee intended it. 

His last film, the magical The Life of Pi, took full advantage of the latest film technology—3-D, IMAX, ATMOS-sound system—and the results were astounding, as it created a totally immersive experience, which made all subsequent viewings dull and dissatisfying by comparison. It made me wonder how The Life of Pi compared for viewers who'd only seen the "flat" version. Was the film as impressive to them as it was to me having seen it with all the bells and whistles? More importantly, would my opinion of the film change if I had not seen it in full format. One could tell, just by looking at The Life of Pi, that Lee had chosen camera angles, shot choices and transitions based on their effectiveness in three dimensions. Without that focus, the "flat" version of the film looks a bit disjointed—at least to my eyes.

Given all that, reviewing Billy Lynn is problematic. Ang Lee shot it in an ultra-high-speed format. Most films are recorded (and projected) at 30 frames per second (film was shot at 24 frames per second). Billy Lynn's rate is 120 frames per second (Peter Jackson's "Hobbit" films were filmed at 48 frames per second). I've seen films projected at such a rate—decades ago, actually—and the effect is akin to watching a high-definition videotape, the image is much sharper and more defined. But, it is also more unforgiving than standard projection, HD, or film. New techniques in lighting and make-up had to be devised, and even some of the acting had to be reconsidered for this format. Decisions that made an impact on the film at 120 frames per second ultimately will not make a difference in other formats, and so I'm in the uncomfortable position of reviewing a film that I haven't seen...at least in the way it was intended. Did I, then, actually see the film?

What is there in the 4k presentation is an uneven film that may be that way to allay any artificiality that the 120 frame process might have caused. Lee is no stranger to stylization in whatever genre he's working in. Billy Lynn, however feels a bit petrified in amber—how that might change in its intended presentation is hard to judge.

The story of an extended stateside tour for an Iraq unit that has just come off a well-publicized firefight caught on a reporter's phone-cam has at its basic core the nature of Truth. For Bravo Company, Truth is life and death. One of their own, Sgt. Shroom (Vin Diesel, in one of those performances where he thinks he's doing something very important) has been killed and Lynn was caught on-camera pulling the sergeant out of the line of fire. Now, as Sgt. Dime (Garrett Hedlund, giving what is genuinely the film's best performance—why didn't they peg him to play the young Indiana Jones?) tells his men "By the grace of God and the media, we are the face of the military." So, they are being escorted to the Thanksgiving game of the Dallas Cowboys to appear in an extravagant half-time show (with Destiny's Child, no less). Bravo Company and their story is a hot item; Hollywood's knocking on their door to buy the story (Hilary Swank is interested!) and they have a manager (Chris Tucker) who's doing all the negotiating.

"It doesn't have to be God or Country. Just find something bigger than yourself..."

The film veers between the events of the game and the time in Iraq that got them there and the film drips with irony going from the action in Iraq when boys are taking care of each other, and their PR tour where they're touted as symbols, but are treated as little more than set-dressing. "It's a little weird bein' honored for the worst day of your life," Lynn (newcomer Joe Alwyn) observes at one point. And when one of the Bravo's point out that it's been "a rough tour," they're asked "There or here?"

Shroom starts a mission by telling each one of his men that he loves them.
The last one says "Yeah, yeah. Let's get a middle school named after us."

The Bravo's know the game. "Yes sir, No sir. Look sharp." But, for all the "proud of ya's" there is the sense of false spectacle and hype. The Bravo's are just pawns going from cannon-fodder in Iraq to camera-fodder in Dallas, and there is marked juxtaposition between the very real stakes of war and the superficiality of just about everything stateside. And Billy has to make a choice: stay with his unit for another tour of duty, or jump off and maybe take advantage of the brief amount of fame that he's currently enjoying. How long that might last is anybody's guess, but the superficiality of their brief fling with "the show business" provides a pretty good clue that it will be brief and ultimately meaningless.

The temptations are many. A brief stop-over at his home in Stovall, Texas holds the same dichotomy—the family's proud, but they don't want to hear about the war, except for Lynn's sister (played by Kristen Stewart), who provides a lot of answers to why the 19 year old joined up in the first place. She's conflicted. She hates the war, but loves her brother, and feels an overwhelming guilt for her part in his decisions. She wants him home. They all do, but the rest of the family isn't quite comfortable talking about the war, not wanting to upset Billy, but not so that their sudden displays of temper at the family dinner table might set off his PTSD.

The hanger's-on and money-men behind the Cowboys event just know platitudes and say they're honored and proud and use the Bravo's to bolster their world-views, but aren't so proud and honored that they won't short-change the group for the rights to their story. And then, there's that cheerleader (Makenzie Leigh) who keeps catching Billy's eye who says all the right things, but...

One would expect, given Hollywood's own superficiality that there will be some big "reveal" to add drama. No, there's no big "freak-out" scene, no histrionics, and no epiphany scene, just the alternate views of life in war-time and life in these United States insulated from the war (other than our relationships to the ones fighting it). Ultimately, the ones who really know the war are the ones fighting it, free of illusions and filters. Everything else is just fantasy and platitudes. Fireworks, not flesh and blood. Loyalty, not gamesmanship.

Lee, in his quiet way, shows the difference between words and actions, flummery and truth. As he does with all his films, there is a coming-to-terms with reality versus illusion, a learning process of the self to determine who one is. Sure, it's focus is Billy Lynn, but it could be talking about America, too. It's one thing for us as a nation to say "we honor you" with our words, and belie that with our actions (as, unfortunately, seems to be the case). It's quite another to acknowledge the real sacrifice those that defend our right to be frivolous make. It's why it's entirely appropriate to play "The Star Spangled Banner" before our "oh-so-important" sporting events, to present a song about war-time to remind us exactly what it encompasses for us to be able to waste our time.

Guardians of the Galaxy

The Un--usual Suspects
or
The A-Hole Team,  ("But Not 100% a Dick")

Marvel Studios takes a side-step away from super-hero movies with Guardians of the Galaxy to try another genre of film, the space adventure (something that is somewhat tangential in the "Thor" series) with a super-toe dipped into the comedy dunk-tank. A good thing, too. The latest bunch of Marvel films (post-Avengers) seem ready to atrophy, and are beginning to feel like the same movie over and over again, concluding with a "Really Big Flying Thing smashing into a city-scape."* A little of that goes a long way. Especially after 9/11.

But, it's mixed in with the "Motley Crew" adventure film, where a disparate group of specialists from various walks of life come together as a unit for a common goal (after a requisite period of squabbling and marking each other's territory). Think Seven Samurai and its progeny, and, in comics, The Justice Society and the medium's various "team" books. For this film, Marvel decided to go with the 2008 version of GOTG (cobbled together by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning), rather than the 1969 Arnold Drake version, set in the 31st Century—the various super-beings of that group being largely unrelatable and obscure.

Not that the 2008 crew were any more well-known—their series lasted a mere 25 issues where the first lasted 62—but they are less cosmic in nature and more human in attributes and sensibilities. Its most famous member is probably Rocket Raccoon (who has appeared in various Marvel comics, and is voiced here by Bradley Cooper in a performance that is so distinctive, it doesn't once remind you of Bradley Cooper), because who doesn't love a a laser-blasting procyonid?**  It also has a fully-functioning human character in Peter Quill (Chris Pratt)—who calls himself "Star-Lord"—hijacked by space-pirates from Earth, as a boy.  The group feels like a more species-diverse version of Joss Whedon's "Firefly" crew—and that group's leader was played by Nathan Fillion, who appeared in Gunn's previous movie Super (which we looked at earlier this week) and who provides a vocal performance in GOTG. 

"Who doesn't love a laser-blasting procyonid?"

Guardians begins with the de rigeur origin story of Quill's abduction and his obsession with a mix-tape from the 70's (an "Awesome Mix Tape" which, indeed, imbues the movie with a lot of its good feelings—like the sight of Star-Lord dancing over the Main Titles to Redbone's "Come and Get Your Love" which is oddly perfect), while, Indiana Jones-ing, he grabs an orb of some significance.  It is the movie's "McGuffin" and will contain a secret "thing" that the villains of the movie want, but the heroes are unaware of its significance or worth.  

Now, stay with me here. Quill ("I'm a junker, dude!") has the orb. His pirate boss, Yondu Udonta (Michael Rooker) of the Kree wants it, too. So does Ronan (Lee Pace) "The Accuser" (not much of a nick-name, frankly) in his capacity for Thanos (Josh Brolin—the character hasn't been seen since the first "Thor" movie's post-credit sequence). Thanos' adopted daughter Gamora (Zoe Saldana—she's green this time) is after the orb for Daddy. Rocket and his pal, the tree-thing Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel, minimally) want Quill for the bounty on his head.  But they cause such a ruckus in town on the planet Xandar, they get the attention of the local constabulary, The Nova Corps (led by Glenn Close, with John C. Reilly as the corpsman with the most lines—in fact, I think that's his name in the movie).

The four are sent to prison in "The Kylin" where conflicts bring in another party to the group Drax (WWE star Dave Bautista, who's not bad, really...) a literal-minded brute ("Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too good") with several axes to grind with Ronan—while he was "accusing" one day, he managed to kill Drax's entire family, and Drax wants to "make his stand...though I may die" against him. The party escapes to "Knowhere" where Gamora attempts to find out the secret to the orb by contacting The Collector*** (Benicio del Toro, in a typically bizarre del Toro performance—I mean, why not, this isn't Shakespeare) who reveals that the orb is in reality...

Wait a minute. Wait. At this point, anybody who isn't in the Grootish weeds by this point must have a basement stacked with Marvel comics, all poly-bagged, in acid-free storage boxes, all neatly lined up, either by title alphabetically or by year, and has actually read them and retained all the arcana. The rest of us who don't know the difference between a Kree and a Necro-cat should probably buy a score-card or a libretto before we go in, or console ourselves with the fact that so much of this stuff has such a goofy spin, that the best thing to do is take a "just go with it" attitude and take none of it too seriously. That's easy to do, especially as the movie sails by on a series of distinctive feel-good oldies that are comically out of place in a space epic, even if they are effective in lightening the overall tone of the film.

And it's nice that the film has, as part of its structure, a desire to break the mold of Marvel movie expectations, both in tone, resolution, and in exceeding the grasp of subject matter without getting too heavy about it (as the "Thor" films perpetually do). It walks a rather ungainly tight-rope of having a good time, while raising the bar a bit to expand the playing ground of story material to include more than usual disgruntled tech-masters and villainously-empowered accident victims as antagonists for the heroes. That was wearing a bit thin, especially in the last couple years. It makes this part of the series feel less Earth-bound and thus a little lighter on its feet, paws, or roots and less bound by a force of gravitas—we're talking super-heroes, after all, no matter how dark and leathery we may dress them.

Josh Brolin voices Thanos, who might be the real "McGuffin" of the film.

* Two lines of comic dialogue always defined the rather-unspecifically cosmic Marvel Universe for me: "Look at THAT!" and "I don't know what it is but it sure is big."

** I talked to a customer in my day-job who mentioned she took her four year-old to see Guardians, and I asked "How'd she handle it?" And she laughed and said "She loved it, but all she can talk about are the raccoon and Groot." It gave me a lot of insight as to how kids might relate to the film by concentrating on the fun aspects and letting all the Marvel insidery going over their heads. "She likes to dance like Groot," she added. That scene, which is a charmer is the first of the two post-credits sequences. The other, which is a shock and a surprise, is almost not worth waiting for.

Kids love Groot.

*** The Collector was last seen in a post-credit teaser in Thor: The Dark World.