A selection of our writers take a look at the films that shaped them, and the world of film, this decade.

Waltz with Bashir (2008)

Never has an anti-war film felt as intimate and real as Waltz with Bashir, an animated autobiographical documentary about director Ari Folman’s experiences during the 1982 Lebanon War. The film has unique presentation. It is both a drama and a biography, with the director interviewing fellow veterans with the goal of recollecting his lost memories from the war. An animated documentary might strike some as odd, since documentaries are conventionally about documenting real life as accurately as possible. Yet the dreamlike presentation is purposeful; it meticulously captures the feeling of surrealism and alienation felt by young soldiers in wartime. Folman does not try to present his experiences in an objective, “news story” lens. What results is an extremely personal confession from the director.

Coupled with a haunting soundtrack by Max Richter, the film takes us through the absurdity of war, all building to one of the most shocking and disturbing finales I’ve ever seen in film. Waltz With Bashir is a prime example of cinema’s greatest strength: the ability to subjectively present a story that becomes more truthful than many other objective mediums of communication.

Bowen Xu

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

2010’s have been the decade of the comic book movie, in particular Marvel. The Marvel Cinematic Univerise has been the anchor in this area both in terms of popularity and arguably, quality. Avengers: Infinity War is, in my opinion, the mountaintop of the MCU. While it is debatable whether the film is the best comic book adaptation of the decade, it epitomizes the 2010s in film. The movie managed to do nearly all of its hugely popular characters justice by instead focusing primarily on the strongly crafted villain, Thanos. This meant the movie could experiment with many new ideas and offer non-stop fun for two and a half hours. It also had one of the best endings for a MCU movie, which usually suffers from similarly formulaic endings. The movie somewhat managed to satisfy almost all of its fans, which should have been an impossible task to start with, but it was also a great motion picture with strong performances, a flowing story, and fantastic visuals.

Kerem Uzdiyen

The Neon Demon (2016)

The Neon Demon is shimmering pearl of film. Nicolas Winding Refn has sifted through the silt and runoff of our culture, coalescing it into a warped, beautiful and giddying reflection of the decade.  The film follows an aspiring model, freshly orphaned, trying to make it in L.A. Elle Fanning is intoxicating, her innocence slowly souring into haughty disdain as fame drains away her humanity. Hunger haunts every frame: for fame, for survival, for youth, for beauty, for wealth. Fanning finds herself frequently isolated in frame, often in ethereal voids, her beauty centre stage throughout. We are carried along by Refn into the world of the superficial, finding ourselves yearning for the attention Fanning commands from the camera.

As we stare agape at The Neon Demon, entranced and horrified by the beautiful slow-motion death of Elle Fanning, we see ourselves and our present moment reflected back. A hall of mirrors shattering and reflecting back our million petty vices. We see Refn play out the death throws of the western cultural machine through the microcosm of the ultra-beautiful. Martinez’s sparse synths and the neon-heavy washed out set design are the bones of 80s excess, once fat on cold war clash of titans. All that’s left is the skin. Hollow excess and mouldering flesh beneath, Refn’s film is apocalyptic. One frame echoes Lynch, the next Fellini as Refn pinballs between influences, foregrounding the aesthetic above all else. Style becomes substance: The Neon Demon’s thesis is apocalyptic hedonism. All meaning has been lost, only the aesthetic remains, so we may as well relish in it. Touching on everything from abuse to the hyper-commodification of our lives to environmental havoc (the mountain lion in the motel room), the film is terrifyingly prescient. With the Epstein case coming to light the film becomes all too plausible.  Dangerous, beautiful and seductive, The Neon Demon is the quintessential film of the 2010s. A masterpiece for our end times, it presents the gaze from the abyss, daring you to stare back.

Jamie Cradden

Taxi (2015)

Taxi has been my favourite of Jafar Panahi’s “low-key” films since he was banned from making them for twenty years back in 2010. Mentored by Abbas Kiarostami, this film is highly reminiscent of the late director’s A Taste of Cherry and Ten, in the way it portrays modern Iran from the cockpit of a vehicle. In this docufiction in which Panahi poses as a taxi driver working in the city of Teheran, we meet a variety of different characters that hop in and out of the taxi and listen to their exchanges with their driver, which range from seemingly conventional to the most bizarre. Midway through the film, Panahi stumbles upon a bike accident, picking up an agonizing man and his wife. This ensuing scene brings to light not only the precarious situation of a lot of people in Iran, but also shows how it can push people to make morally ambiguous decisions in a way that is not only memorable, but rather harsh and is often echoed later in the film.  The use of the camera in Taxi is particularly creative; Panahi continuously plays with what the camera and audience can see, keeping certain characters and conversations off camera, while linking these with what is going on in front of the camera. This way of situating the viewer in the middle of the action might seem jarring at first, but develops surprisingly well as the film progresses. Out of Panahi’s most recent films, this one strikes me as the most creative, sharp and cinematographically interesting, and it is definitely worth a rewatch in the new decade.

Diego Collado

Roma (2018)

Roma came to us in the final hours of this decade. Netflix, front page: a black-and-white film, in Spanish and Mixteco, telling the story of an indigenous maid named Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) in late 60s, early 70s Mexico. To me, this was not only a monumental work of Latin-American cinema, but also a cultural moment: that such a high-profile director would return to where he came from and then choose to elevate this specific story — it’s simply unpredictable but Cuaron did it. Writing, directing, producing, and co-editing the film himself, his efforts produced an epic powerful enough to challenge his previous feature, Gravity (2013). Roma is the story of a woman, but like all good works of art it speaks to something greater. It is the story of the forgotten, disenfranchised, quiet, anonymous, working Woman, brown and indigenous. She exists, and she is so strong. Most importantly, Cuaron does not speak for her. In fact, this is a rather quiet movie, and beautifully so. Never has an indigenous person or story in film been given such intimate, syntonic treatment with such wide exposure. No one will remember Green Book but we will remember Roma.

Sofía Kourous Vázquez

Sam Hamilton tackles the mega pop culture extravaganza that is the concluding chapter of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

WARNING: Spoilers ahead.

This may be a year of epic proportions. Game of Thrones, Star Wars, Toy Story, How to Train Your Dragon and John Wick may all be vying for your attention. But it’s April, so it’s Marvel time. Thanos is back and he wants your money.

To every story there is an end, to every odyssey a denouement, to every journey a destination. Then, there is the kind of world-crushing pop culture supernova that is Avengers: Endgame, the final(?) step in Marvel Entertainment’s twenty-two-film twenty billion dollar ‘Infinity Saga’ bonanza. Endgame is the brawl to Infinity War’s brains. But that is, unfortunately, in the worst of senses. At three hours and two minutes long, it has a clearly defined three act structure: to beat its audience into submission over a nonsensical plan, to carry out this plan, and subsequently undo the events of the previous film. There is an enjoyable two hour movie in there somewhere amongst the mayhem, but it was lost in pre-production: for when the dust settles, the dots of this film just don’t join up. And while the Russo brothers, so successful last time out, try desperately to inject some humanity into this narrative apocalypse, there is around five minutes of genuinely emotionally involving content to be found, surrounded on all sides by kaleidoscopic CGI chaos and plot threads more akin to Ben 10 than “the greatest experiment in cinematic history” (as put by Marvel). Avengers: Endgame is a cinematic monster of sprawling proportions, nonsensical notions and leapfrog pacing. For all the pomp and circumstance surrounding its arrival, Endgame seems an impossible task.

Those good five minutes I mentioned are soothing to no end amongst the otherwise sparse terrain of the film, and made by their actors. Though despite their efforts, this is not a case of small moments that make the whole worthwhile. Essentially these are small moments that make the whole survivable, the only successes in a film otherwise quarantined of stirring emotions and lasting impressions. They are the prologue, in which a society is ripped apart by the decimation of its populus, a moment which really belongs to Infinity War; a brief stirring encounter between time-travelling Tony Stark and his father at the halfway mark; and, at last, the final consolation that stoic Steve Rogers was able to use Mister McGuffin time-travelling device to right the wrongs of time, and return to his darling Peggy in the 1940s to live out the life he always wanted. While the final scene is by its own nature charming, the first two belong to the contributions of their respective actors, Jeremy Renner and Robert Downey Jr., who along with Scarlett Johansson, Tilda Swinton and Mark Ruffalo belong in a better film.

The sight of Ruffalo as a big green domesticated suited-up Hulk is both disturbing and saddening – almost as saddening as what unfolds over the duration of this movie. This unfold allows us to draw at least one distinct conclusion; there is a bleak contrast in writing quality between Infinity War and Endgame. This time out, where screenwriters Stephen McFeely and Christopher Markus are not deriving from earlier Marvel Cinematic Universe films or cinema at large (although I must admit I enjoyed Chris Hemsworth’s take on The Big Lebowski’s Dude), they are producing incongruent plotlines and sentences abhorrently cringeworthy when delivered with a straight face. “We’re all about that superhero life” stood out in particular. But their main fault, and really the endgame of Endgame, is the lazy time-travelling escapade that takes us from point A to point B plotwise. McFeely and Markus persevere to make the outrageous seem feasible with their own specially concocted brand of ‘science’, purporting quantum mechanics as the key to a quantum realm (ooh, ahh) that enables “GPS time travel”. Even after their own character points out that this is all risible, the writers go ahead with it anyway, serious enough about the legitimacy of this hokum to keep hammering home the pretence, for many tens of minutes, that this is all realistic. Ultimately, due to the film’s goal of overhanging fatalism, the film suffers both from a truth that its notions are crazy and a lack of courage to adopt the bashfulness of earlier Marvel entries and admit that truth.

The interesting part is, the movie all takes itself far more seriously than most of the time-travel movies their characters openly joke about, while most of those same movies do a far more capable job of navigating the intricacies of the concept. And while I enjoyed Tony’s representation of time travel as a möbius strip, his instantaneous ’solution’ to time travel established over a cup of coffee is the most ridiculous display of ‘this guy can do anything’ since Brad Pitt’s turn in World War Z. If the film didn’t take it so seriously, neither would I. Moreover, if you consider this film Disney property, and as such a kids’ movie, you must consequently ask what said kids are taught by Endgame: rue the past, reject the current state of reality, and do everything in your power to change it. This isn’t usually something I consider when watching a movie, but it does put a smile on my face.

Another crucial facet of Marvel movies is comic relief. And while the comedy seemed to be integrated smoothly in Infinity War’s synopsis insofar as the collisions between such giant personalities create a humorous conflict – take Tony Stark and Doctor Strange or Thor and Peter Quill – in Endgame comedy is a lifeboat, where scenes are made to be funny and funny alone such that the audience doesn’t drown in the gobbledygook. Some of them work, some of them don’t. But all of them are extraneous and fail to advance to the plot. In a three hour movie, there are questions to be asked when this is the case.

CGI is Disney territory, so naturally the visual effects team showed up in Endgame. Water is wet. The sun is hot. This $400 million action movie looks good. Canadian cinematographer Trent Opaloch constricts on Infinity War’s wide colour palette to a more constant royal blue that dominates for most of the runtime. But so much of these films are created in post production that cinematography and visual effects are virtually in union. Maybe in thirty years time, when Thanos looks like PS1 Hagrid, we’ll be able to make a more complete distinction. The character introduction of Hawkeye (Renner), a little less than half way through the runtime, was seized impressively by Opaloch in a long and intricately choreographed tracking shot that left me keen for a standalone ‘Renner as Ronin’ post-apocalyptic Samurai movie. The final throw down, on the other hand, was rather more of a cookie cutter Marvel third act, albeit with a few standout moments for Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa and Elizabeth Olsen’s Scarlet Witch.

Concluding on the ‘Infinity Saga’ today leaves behind a mixed bag of feelings. We have witnessed a new specimen of studio entertainment develop (with a runtime that makes Lord of the Rings feel like an ad break), and Endgame is its elegy. For me, it is one both good and bad. The movie itself qualifies most of the bad. The good comes from a thin closure that Endgame strains to provide in the completed (given, muddled) character arcs of its two main characters, Captain America and Iron Man – or “America’s Ass” and “America’s Uncle”. Though the means may not be satisfying the end, in a way, is. Most of all it introduces an interesting question as to what respective actors Chris Evans and Downey Jr. will go on to do next.

From a larger perspective of the MCU, and where Studio Head Kevin Feige plans to take it next, the problems arising in Endgame do not make for especially good news. This film marks a conclusive preference for abiding by the status quo rather than boldly averting it as had done Infinity War. Infinity War, in its villain, its menacing sense of dread, and in its courageous character-killing conviction, was an exception that seemed to break free of the formulaic nonchalant comedy club filmmaking that has gripped the emerging ‘superhero genre’. Alternatively, Endgame confirms that the ‘Infinity Saga’ has endured a consistent diminuendo in attention towards narrative strength over crowd pleasing, an attention which even at first was tenuous, and is now virtually extinct. To equate, for example, the reasonably humanised, conflicted, and fleshed-out characters of ‘Phase One’ (Edward Norton’s Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark to name but a few) to the sugary vacuous cardboard cutouts of ‘Phase Three’ (hello Ant-Man, Spider-Man Lite and Captain Deus Ex Marvel) is like comparing The Dark Knight to Batman & Robin. The prospect of continuation should be cause for concern as to where Feige intends to take us next.

We’re all for outlandish cinema. For elaborate stories. For huge spectacle. But this movie takes all three to enormous proportions, gets lost in the second part, compromises on the first, and relies on the third to salvage what remains. Minor successes do not discount major flaws. So when a raccoon, a tree and a flying woman on fire launch themselves into battle to steal the jewellery off a big purple man and his army of six-legged man-dogs, what’s alarming is not that this entire situation is completely ridiculous, or that the filmmakers have failed to craft a comprehensive narrative justifying that ridiculousness. What’s alarming is the emerging reality that the MCU’s pedigree in modern audiences allows them to get away with anything. This film will easily surpass its box office estimates, the executives will take note, and the die for the next ten years of cinema will be cast with the element of convincing drama established as low priority.

So when I sit here and read that Feige has recently released details of the seven thousand characters that he has rights for and “intends to use”, I wonder: Maybe somewhere among their ranks is Original-Movie Man, who brings down the Studio Empire with nothing but emotionally stimulating original entertainment that is never watered down, never the same as before, never restricted by political agendas and never conforming to predetermined formula. Or maybe, instead, we’ll have a 23 Jump Street, 24 Jump Street, 25 Jump Street rollout of Thanos 2.0 v Iron Lady and Ant Man v The Beatles. Who knows. Time will tell.

Avengers: Endgame is currently out in cinemas. Check out the trailer below:

Editor KC Wingert examines the female superhero in Marvel’s latest addition to their cinematic mythos.

I have to admit that I’m nothing more than a casual superhero movie fan. I’ve seen some, but not all, of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s seemingly unending filmography – and most of the time I don’t know what’s going on because I skipped Thor 18 or Iron Man 26 or whatever number they’re on. I don’t hate superhero movies, but do find myself feeling frustrated when I see a franchise churn out several films a year, some of which are disappointing at best (ahem, Ant Man), knowing that no matter what quality is achieved, loyal fans will continue to show up and spend their money on this cultural phenomenon.

I am especially jaded when it comes to female superheroes in these films. Hollywood’s brand of feminism is disheartening; they just can’t seem to get it right. Too often, the so-called “strong, female lead” is a mere token; her existence in a film is largely based on her sexual difference. She is the only woman in a group of men, whom she surprises with her incredible ability to kick ass and maintain visual desirability while doing it. She is intimidating, cold, and mysterious in a sexy way. She is not represented as a particularly complex or conflicted person until a male love interest comes along to “soften” her. (In case you’re wondering, yes, I am talking about Wonder Woman).

I am tired of watching films with corny, girl power-y lines that will inevitably end up emblazoned on a t-shirt sold by some twee Etsy shop that throws in a “Notorious RBG” pin in with every order over £10. I am tired of films that wrap up the battle women have been fighting for hundreds of years neatly, with a big pink bow—a sign that all is well, sexism and gendered violence are over, and we can go back to being pretty now. I am tired of seeing female protagonists with one body type, one skin tone, one sexual preference, and one purpose—either to mother or to seduce the men around her. I am tired of watching women who cope well, who don’t cry, who don’t show any fear or hesitation. I am tired of looking at women who are only there to be looked at.

It’s safe to say I’m a hard sell when it comes to blockbusters starring women—not because I don’t want women to star in big-budget films, but because I feel like they never quite capture what it is to be a woman, really. And with all that said, I must make another really big admission:  I absolutely loved Captain Marvel.

In Marvel’s first title film for a female superhero, Brie Larson stars as Vers, a Kree Starforce member of the planet Hala. Vers has the remarkable ability to produce photon blasts with her hands—a unique power she has not yet mastered and which she cannot even remember receiving. Her memory before becoming a member of the Starforce is completely blank, except for the bits and pieces of her past life that flash by in recurring dreams.

In a Starforce mission gone wrong, Vers is kidnapped by a group of enemy Skrulls, the alien shapeshifters attempting to infiltrate other planets by disguising themselves as their inhabitants. She manages to get away in an escape pod, which crash lands in sunny Los Angeles, California. It is here that Vers remembers more about her past—and discovers that she was a U.S. Air Force pilot thought to have been dead for six years after crashing her aircraft during a top-secret equipment test in 1989.

While on Earth, Vers makes the acquaintance of Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), a favourite for any returning Marvel fan. This is Fury in the early days of his career at SHIELD—before the eye patch, attitude, and seemingly unchecked power. (We find out, in fact, how Fury loses his eye—and it’s not as badass as you’d think). Together, Larson and Jackson have great onscreen chemistry; it’s an absolute delight to watch this odd couple escape the Skrulls and travel to find Maria Rambeau (Lashana Lynch), one of Vers’ friends from her human life. There are no faux-empowering moments between them—no “not bad for a girl” moments or “that’s my kind of woman” remarks. Fury and Vers are on a mission, and Fury doesn’t question Vers’ ability once. Unlike in many other films with a female protagonist, Vers is not someone Fury feels protective over in a paternalistic sense. Her value is not something that he expects her to prove before she can fight alongside him; in fact, in moments when they are not working together as equals, Fury looks to Vers as a leader.

Being the first woman to play a title character in a Marvel film is a high-stakes job, seeing as being the first female anything typically carries the pressure of making the entire gender look good—but it’s a job to which Brie Larson is suited, dare I say, marvellously. Larson is one of those actresses who brings a down-to-earth, relatable tone to whatever character she plays. She’s the girl who sat in front of you in biology, or the girl who played goalie on your field hockey team. She’s the girl who wasn’t loud and didn’t seek popularity, yet she seemed to be friends with everyone just the same. She is, at the same time, exceptional and ordinary. As Captain Marvel, a sort of accidental superhero, she expertly manages the bizarre duality of being both a totally average woman and an intergalactic warrior. It is this aspect of Larson’s performance which is most empowering; she tells us that any ordinary woman with a strong will can be a hero in her own right.

Another strength of Captain Marvel is that directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck have recreated one of the most exciting elements of the massively successful Black Panther:  they have put a black woman in a central and catalytic role in the narrative. The friendship between Maria Rambeau and Vers—whose name, we find out, was originally Carol Danvers—is a wonderful show of solidarity between two women who were once up against sexism in the U.S. Air Force and encouraged each other, instead of competing against each other, to fly in the only missions women were allowed to pilot at the time.

Before Carol’s “death,” these women took care of each other and had each other’s backs, both professionally and personally, to the point where Rambeau’s daughter Monica (Akira Akbar) refers to Danvers as “Auntie Carol”. For that reason, it only makes sense that Vers should now trust Rambeau to help her save the world, as all Marvel heroes must inevitably do—and help she does.

Rambeau is absolutely essential to the plot of the film. She helps Vers remember her life as Carol and unlock her true potential as Captain Marvel. She even outdoes Nick Fury himself in terms of helpfulness to the cause, by expertly piloting a spaceship she’s never flown before and fearlessly fighting the enemy. Next to Rambeau, the typically intimidating character Fury is practically only there for comic relief and to tie into the rest of the MCU. As a mother, a pilot, and a black woman, Rambeau is a complex and interesting hero herself, not a character boxed into the “sassy black friend” stereotype.

A film set in the mid-Nineties, Captain Marvel makes several cheeky jabs at the dismally slow-moving technology and now-defunct businesses of yesteryear (rest in peace, Blockbuster); this setting, of course, calls for a soundtrack that feels like a love letter to the female musicians of the mid-decade. (It’s worth noting, too, that Captain Marvel is the first Marvel film to be scored by a woman). From TLC to Salt ‘N’ Pepa, Elastica to Des’ree, Captain Marvel didn’t miss any of the hits or one-hit wonders that completely encapsulate the fun, laid-back vibe of its era. The film is heavily influenced by nineties grunge rock, too, in soundtrack and production design alike. Dressed in loose jeans and a flannel shirt, Captain Marvel at one point cruises down a highway on a motorcycle while Garbage’s femme grunge classic “Only Happy When it Rains” plays. Courtney and Kurt are included, of course, and No Doubt’s upbeat anthem “Just a Girl” sets the pace for one of the most crucial fight scenes in the film. The rebellious, riot grrrl-influenced soundtrack evokes a point in time when resisting the norm still felt productive and rebellion made a difference. The soundtrack isn’t just wistful reminiscence on days gone by, either; it serves a thematic purpose. These feminist grunge rockers rejected the testosterone-fueled rock scene of the early Nineties and challenged the status quo in a way that had a real affect on American culture. Captain Marvel provides a welcome escape back to a time when women’s resistance in the U.S. didn’t feel completely ineffective in the way that it sometimes does now.

Captain Marvel may not be the first female-led superhero movie, but it is, in this writer’s opinion, the most successful one. An entertaining adventure sprinkled with ironic humour, this is the film women who just want to be entertained without feeling objectified have been waiting for. For being in a film largely centred around fighting a hostile alien race, Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel is a surprisingly down-to-earth character whose wit adds richness to action-packed adventure, and whose confidence is empowering. Hopefully, Hollywood execs looking to add some feminism to their roster will see this film and understand:  Captain Marvel is how it’s done.

Captain Marvel is in theatres now. Check out the trailer below:

Alex Dewing remembers Stan Lee, co-creator of Marvel Comics, the brain behind iconic superheroes such as Spiderman and the X-Men, and the king of cameos. He passed away on November 12, 2018 – he was 95. 

It’s Friday 27th April 2012. It’s the day after term starts at my school and nobody’s too happy to be back. My Dad, in an attempt to cheer me and my brother up, decides to make a rare trip to the cinema; he’s heard a new blockbuster superhero movie just came out. He thinks, “That’s what we’ll see. I might enjoy it, and my son definitely will. Oh, and Alex might find some of it entertaining too”.

Little does he know that when we leave the cinema the only one who’ll be raving about The Avengers will be me, that my love for all things comics and superheroes will be born — his mistake. When I came home, babbling about an “enormous green rage monster”, a demigod with the weirdest of accents, and a desire to read more stories about this ragtag group of heroes, my mother didn’t hesitate in telling her self-appointed super Marvel nerd of a brother that I was hooked.

About a month later the biggest package I had (and still have) ever received arrived. It was full to the brim with Marvel comics. Comics which I then devoured, giving them prize spot on my bookshelf and bringing a new one into school every day. I tracked down the nearest comic book store and would go whenever I could, much to the dismay of my parents. I would be devastated when I couldn’t make it, missing the release of the latest issues of Thor: God of Thunder: The Accursed (one of my favourites) or whatever else I was reading. 

Now, it would be wrong of me to say that all of these comics were written by Stan Lee. In fact, I don’t think any of them were at all. But that’s no surprise. Original issues written by the man are pretty rare. Lee wrote his final comics back in 1972, putting down the pen and instead taking up the role of publisher. He wasn’t the founder of Marvel, as many wrongly believe, but he changed the world of comic books and, consequently, cinema and pop culture itself. 

Lee revolutionised the superhero comic by making it a genre not just for kids. The stories he worked on were focused on flawed characters, their psychology, and the less-than-easy dynamic between team members. He pushed so far that even the Comic Code had to be changed; allowing for Marvel’s storylines to challenge contemporary society itself. Not only that, Lee was the creator or co-creator of almost every big name in the Marvel superhero world. Spider-Man, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Black Panther, Nick Fury — need I go on? Lee’s characters have gone so much further than he could ever have imagined. And all the better for us.

Like so many others, I self-identified through these worlds and characters that Lee helped create. I’m not the only person who has, over the years, accumulated far too much Marvel ‘merch’; or found themselves in an embarrassing number of debates about why Thor: The Dark World is an incredibly underrated film, or whether James McAvoy or Patrick Stewart made the better Professor X (okay, maybe the latter two are just me).

People from all walks of life flock to the worlds that Stan Lee created, for so many different reasons: they provide escapism, catharsis, and familiarity. Simultaneously, they’re otherworldly and fantastical while  imperfect and grounded in reality. 

Lee brought life to not only one world, not even one universe, but a multiverse filled with all kinds of characters and stories. It’s impossible to get bored of. Looking for an exciting and thrilling crossover? Then you check out Secret Invasion. Want something a little bit lighter? The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl is your best shot. It’s the same when it comes to the Marvel Cinematic Universe that Lee’s work made possible: Captain America: The Winter Soldier is as tense as any thriller film, and Thor: Ragnarok as funny as any comedy. Probably funnier.

Ask any Marvel fan and they’ll admit that getting lost in its world isn’t a difficult feat; I know from experience that a re-watch of Iron Man quickly becomes another Marvel marathon and before I know it I’m sobbing as Thanos (actually created by Jim Starlin and Mike Friedrich) takes to the screen. Marvel has never failed to provide fans with some of their most memorable cinematic experiences. I’ll certainly never forget sitting in the BFI IMAX, crying and cheering along with fellow fans as Infinity War broke us for the first time, just as I’ll never forget seeing The Avengers with my dad and  brother that April evening after school. Without Stan Lee none of that would have been possible. 

In his words: “Marvel is a cornucopia of fantasy, a wild idea, a swashbuckling attitude, an escape from the humdrum and prosaic. It’s a serendipitous feast for the mind, the eye, and the imagination, a literate celebration of unbridled creativity, coupled with a touch of rebellion and an insolent desire to spit in the eye of the dragon.”

Stan certainly spat in that dragon’s eye: he rebelled and he created, and his work will continue to inspire people to do the same for generations to come. So, thank you, from us all. ‘Nuff Said.

Karina Tukanova reviews the dark but entertaining Marvel anti-hero spinoff. 

Warning: Mild spoilers follow.

When it comes to mainstream films, audiences and critics rarely agree. In fact, critics and ordinary cinema goers in general are often at loggerheads: the former wants carefully-crafted stories elucidating undying themes of human experiences; the latter – just a nice piece of entertainment to enjoy and ramble about with friends. The two ultimately prioritise completely different aspects of a film, and expectedly represent two different demographics.

Venom is the newest addition to the long line of superhero movies where critics and audiences disagree. The critic consensus on Rotten Tomatoes ranks the film at an unjustly 30% compared to whooping 88% from the audiences. This significant divide ultimately comes down to expectations: one wanted “a stronger attachment to Spider-Man”, but frankly Venom offers its audience a decent standalone film that doesn’t need to depend on MCU or Spidey for its storytelling.

In a special space mission, a bioengineering corporation Life Foundation discovers a comet filled with symbiotic life forms. Its CEO Carlton Drake (Riz Ahmad) discovers that the symbiotes could not survive in Earth’s environment without attaching themselves to an oxygen-breathing host. Obsessed with the idea of “higher life-form”, Drake begins human trials. Meanwhile, journalist Eddie Brock (Tom Hardy) investigates a little bit too much into said foundation and its cynical Head. His bluntness costs him his job and respect, and much loved fiancée Anne Weying (Michelle Williams). It’s all downhill from here for Brock until he is approached by Life Foundation scientist Dora Skirth (Jenny Slate), who helps him break into the lab to find evidence, eventually getting more than he bargained for as Brock himself becomes the host of a symbiote, rendering a perfect match with Venom. He then successfully escapes the facility, and this is where the fun begins.

Mind you, by this point, we are around 40 minutes into the film. The first act lingers on irrelevant details for a tad too long, setting up way too much and deciding to focus on Eddie’s personal life instead of delving into the fascinating symbiotic or parasitic relationship with Venom. However, the lengthy exposition is not valueless. It manages to pack a lot of information and provide enough context for an average viewer who might not have a clue about Venom and its comic book origins without being too distracting. Indeed, it does blend hundreds of comic books worth of content into an enjoyable and coherent enough form. In this, I argue, it beats most MCU films.

In all fairness, the Eddie-Venom dynamic is what holds the film together. Brock’s first transformation is a gem on its own. It is crackingly funny, gross, and profoundly revealing of the future relationship between the two. Due to the nature of the symbiote that emerges within its host, transforming itself in an unprecedented way, while endowing the host with enhanced physical abilities at the cost of fatally draining them out, the transformation scene could have either made or broken this film.

At first, Eddie is troubled, even tormented physically by his new companion. He sweats profusely, downs old leftovers for lunch, and is startled at a scheming voice inside his head. But once you see Venom in his full swing, you feel like he has come straight from the comic book pages (what can’t be said about his 2007 predecessor). In stunned awe, we witness the giant, toothy, long-tongued monster go onto his raving rampaging, mercilessly beheading anyone in its way. These are one of the few moments in film when you forget that you sit in a cinema and get fully absorbed into dark and gritty world of Venom.

It is a shame there was no deeper exploration of the Eddie-Venom relationship, particularly how Venom transforms from a maniacal head-eating killer to a charming (but still head-eating) anti-hero. I would have liked that. It seems that film opted out for more action scenes – that were nonetheless impressive – than thorough character development.

It goes without saying that Tom Hardy knocked it out of the park with his terrific performance. I love the man unconditionally, he added a new dimension to the character of Eddie Brock, drawing the audience into his plight. An underdog on his way to becoming a hero, a familiar trope that takes on an original flair thanks to Hardy’s charisma and thoughtful interpretation of his character. The same unfortunately could not be said about the villain. Riz Ahmad’s Drake is mediocre at best, both as a typical “evil corporate bad guy” and as Riot. He is neither intimidating enough to be convincing nor charismatic enough to be memorable. Along with similar disposable MCU villains, he is just another obstacle for the protagonist to overcome, another tool to move the plot forward. The biggest shame, however, is that their hero-villain relationship had so much more potential. The premise nonetheless is a hapless but humble low-class reporter grappling against an invincible, corrupt millionaire controlling a powerful survivalist organisation. There is so much room for exploring questions of power, morality, and the eternal “what does it mean to be good or bad?”, but Venom leaves much to be desired in this sense.

It is fair to state that Venom misses the mark because of its messy plotlines and somewhat sloppy and formulaic script, yet it does not render the film unwatchable. Coming back to my original point, the critics’ consensus doesn’t do Venom justice. Yes, it’s imperfect, but considering the production mess that it has been in since its conception, it has done a great job. More importantly, its fans enjoyed it. It was fun. Perhaps unlike critics, loyal fans of the Venom canon are more prepared to forgive its obvious flaws in return for its generous fan service. At the very least, the mid-credit scene is worth it. “There will be Carnage.”

Venom is currently released in cinemas everywhere. Take a look at its trailer below:

Welcome back to a new year of FilmSoc podcasts! Abby and Sabastian got together to have a chat on this past summer’s hottest movies, including Infinity War, Ant-Man and the Wasp, The Incredibles, Solo, and more.

Spoilers ahead for all films!

Illustration by Kristian Hammerstad for The New Yorker

PREVIOUSLY: News & ‘You Were Never Really Here’

Bori Bernat reviews the latest feature on Marvel’s smallest superhero. 

One of 2015’s most unexpected feel-good films was Ant-Man. Featuring a hero capable of shrinking to the size of an ant with a suit, the film’s witty humor, exciting action scenes and great cast quickly became a loved Marvel film. Fans then welcomed the charming protagonist, Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) back on screen for a bit in Captain America: Civil War, and this summer came the much anticipated sequel to the original story about a goofy but well-meaning superhero: Ant-Man and the Wasp.

Scott has been dealing with the fallout Civil War has left him in for the past two years. Since he fought on “Cap”’s side, he’s been working hard to be friendly to the lawful side of life. He started a new business with Luis (Michael Pena) and reconnected with his loving family, and all while he’s successfully completing his house arrest. However, an important unsolved mystery comes back to haunt him: the whereabouts of Janet Van Dyne (played by no other than Michelle Pfeiffer), Hank Pym’s (Michael Douglas) wife and Hope’s (Evangeline Lilly) mother, who we know from the previous film as having disappeared in the quantum realm. A hope that she could be alive drives her family to do everything they can to bring her back, and because Scott feels that he owes them, he joins Hope and Hank in this mission, while risking his family and freedom.

The antagonists of this story come in many forms. The police guarding Scott on his house arrest, a squad of gangsters eager to take the only tool to bring Janet back, and the antihero of the film, Ghost, a mysterious warrior who’s able to move through walls, motivated by something completely different than the rest. With these opposing dynamics at work, the film becomes action packed and exciting, each moment energetically driven to defeat these forces, occasionally several at times. All the while the story successfully intermits the tense and serious scenes with tasteful, witty and family-friendly humor. Luckily, though the sequel fit more one liners and jokes in as the previous film, it never overpowers the story itself (unlike the mistake of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2).

Ant-Man and the Wasp, as the title suggests, introduces a new hero: the Wasp. Hank Pym was initially set against letting his only daughter Hope wear a suit similar to Ant-Man’s, but by the second film he builds her an upgraded version, one with wings and blasters, making her the superior force in this film, named “the Wasp”, a name inherited from her mother. As Scott’s daughter Cassie so wisely puts it, Ant-Man needs a partner, someone to look out for him, and the Wasp seems to be the perfect solution to that. She’s smart and motivated, taught Scott how to fight and use the suit well, and is overall an extremely talented character, who’ll surely be useful to the Avengers later on.

All in all, Ant-Man and the Wasp is a very successful sequel. The storyline aligns with the first film well, continuing its most important unexplained aspect, playing well on the relationship of the characters, giving us an insight as to what the outcome of Civil War was to Scott, Hank and Hope, and it introduces a worthy antihero. Of course one has to accept that the science behind science fiction is mostly fiction, but no one should let that get in the way of the pure fun the film offers, with its amazing CGI, action packed scenes, and the best kind of humour a Marvel film could wish for.

As for the larger MCU, this is the first film since the shocking ending of Avengers: Infinity War, and many have been wondering what happened to Ant-Man, since he’s one of the few heroes not present in the biggest team up yet. Although the answer doesn’t quite lie in this film, it gives fans a great way to regain the Marvel joy after the somber note of Infinity War, an upbeat step into the next phase of our superheroes.

Despite being the 20th film on Marvel’s 10 year long roster, I can reassure those unfamiliar with Marvel that Ant-Man and the Wasp, though a sequel, does an amazing job in catching those up who haven’t seen the first film, or Captain America: Civil War. Flashbacks, explanations and even humorous mentions let everyone enjoy and understand the film to its fullest. One does not have to go through the daunting task of watching every film of the MCU to understand it (see: Infinity War). Maybe the hardcore Marvel fan might be disappointed that this film is quite standalone, only dealing with matters that involve the Ant-Man and his friends, it will still satisfy, as it has everything a Marvel fan could wish for and loves.

Everyone can find something they enjoy in this film, as it represents the Marvel quality well. Action, CGI, an amazing cast, perfect cinematography, well-written story, humour, and a great buildup of emotions throughout. So regardless of whether you’ve seen all the previous films, or just a few, or even not any at all, it’s a solid film to just relax and have fun with. As always, make sure you stay for both after credit scenes, standing up right after it ends is a Marvel faux pas!

Ant-Man and the Wasp will be out in UK cinemas on August 3rd. Check out the trailer below: 

Maria Düster reviews Marvel’s latest blockbuster.

Taika Waititi’s Thor: Ragnarok offers a much-needed reboot to the Thor franchise. It is jam-packed with the humor, action, and engaging characters the first two films lacked. When it was originally announced Waititi would be helming the third movie in the Thor saga, those familiar with his work rejoiced. Waititi, an indigenous Maori actor, writer, and director from New Zealand, has been the mastermind behind numerous acclaimed indie films, such as his debut Boy, the vampire mockumentary What We Do In The Shadows, and, most recently, Hunt for the Wilderpeople. Known for his dry humor and inclusion of Maori actors and culture, Waititi serves as a breath of fresh air in an industry known for its whiteness and formulaic scripts. Waititi’s hiring comes as no surprise: several major franchises have welcomed lesser known directors (Jurassic World’s Colin Trevorrow, Guardians of the Galaxy’s James Gunn), often skyrocketing the careers of creators only known in the indie cinema scene. With Waititi, the choice has paid off: critics and fans can’t seem to get enough of the third Thor film, the film Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes since its initial release.

Thor: Ragnarok follows the events of Age of Ultron and Thor: The Dark World, and opens with the titular character searching the universe for his father Odin, who has been covertly overthrown by Thor’s trickster brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston). When the brothers eventually reunite with the patriarch, they encounter a new threat, Hela (Cate Blanchett), the first born child of Odin. Hela, Goddess of Death, promptly announces her plan to take over Asgard (and the world), overpowering the brothers and casting them into space. Thor finds himself on the planet Sakaar, on the other side of the universe from Asgard, and the main plot begins. There, the God of Thunder becomes a prisoner of the Grandmaster (played by Jeff Goldblum) and must battle the leader’s Champion for freedom.

While Thor flounders on Sakaar, his half-sister Hela returns to Asgard, establishes a dictatorship, and begins to expand the power of the Asgardian empire without mercy. Along with Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson), and the ever-scheming Loki, Thor must return to Asgard and prevent Ragnarok, the prophesied end of the world.

Though the beginning of the film immediately sets the scene for a hilarious and action-packed ride, Ragnarok takes longer than it should to get to the main plot line. The first third of the movie, unfortunately, has to tie up loose ends from the previous Marvel films and does so by randomly (or conveniently) killing off numerous characters or just avoiding them altogether. While the exposition is necessary for the movie to make sense, some of the creative choices seem as though the writing team realized last minute two other films had preceded this one, and then scrambled to resolve all of the plot holes. 

Regardless, right from the first scene, Thor: Ragnarok is funny. It’s lighter and doesn’t take itself as seriously as the previous two films, and Hemsworth seems to be genuinely enjoying playing his character. The Aussie actor manages to make us genuinely like the God of Thunder, transforming the “most boring Avenger” into a smart, quick-witted hero we can all root for. Where Thor and The Dark World’s joke were few and often fell flat, Ragnarok relies on humor as its driving force, the constant dry snark proof of Waititi’s influence. Waititi himself serves as comic relief, playing Korg, a dumb but lovable creature also imprisoned on Sakaar.

While the constant humour does add a fresh and younger vibe to the film series, Ragnarok ultimately sacrifices substance for laughs. Though there are serious themes throughout, including death and the concept of homeland, meaningful moments are scarce, and dialogue almost always ends in a joke. In one of the film’s scenes, Thor and his estranged brother Loki examine their relationship to one another and Loki’s place in the world. The conversation, full of emotion and seeking to humanize the mischievous god, suddenly cuts short as the two brothers have to devise a plan to achieve one of their goals, the end result entirely humorous. The sudden shift in tone and mood leaves us wondering if the film is any different from other superhero comedies and their formulaic scripts and unceasing jokes. Yet what sets Ragnarok apart is that commitment to humor and, more importantly, unpretentiousness. The film is meant to be dorky and stupid, poking fun at the previous two Thor films while creating something better.

Substance or not, the supporting cast is phenomenal. Jeff Goldblum plays the debauched and seedy Grandmaster like he was born for it, striding around in flashy clothes as a heightened intergalactic version of the actor himself. Tessa Thompson’s casting again showcases Waititi’s influence, in choosing to replace the historically blonde and blue-eyed Valkyrie with a black woman. Thompson knocks it out of the park, providing a sexy, powerful, and memorable heroine in a series arguably devoid of one (strangely, neither Jane Foster or Sif make an appearance in the film). Mark Ruffalo’s Hulk, an initially surprising addition to the film, not only serves as comic relief but also allows for exploration of Bruce Banner’s difficult and traumatic relationship with his alter ego. Cate Blanchett’s Hela, however, leaves something to be desired. Like most Marvel villains, she spends a large chunk of the movie delivering long monologues about her past and the general destruction of the world, stalling the plot as our heroes race to defeat her. The constant cuts between Thor’s adventures on Sakaar and Hela’s takeover weakens the film, and the focus on the film’s villain only perpetuates the issues that plagued the first two Thor films.

Though the film occasionally falls into the trappings of other Marvel movies, Thor: Ragnarok emerges as a unique, funny, and essential addition to the MCU, led by Taika Waititi’s quirky brilliance. The film isn’t the next Captain America: Winter Soldier (arguably Marvel’s darkest, grittiest movie), simply because it doesn’t want to be. Unpretentious, the film offers a geeky and fun comedy for Marvel fans, and in this regard, it passes with flying colors. 

Thor: Ragnarok is currently out in UK cinemas. Check out the trailer below: