jem on jém

[ENTRY 020]

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For this entry, I opted to allocate my time and energy to a Letterboxd review that seamlessly doubles as a rant about the state of modern capeshit cinema. As such, here it is in full:

It’s a shame #theshakwasbuilt doesn’t pack quite a punch as #reloadthegunn when it comes to meaningless hashtag shitposting for generational capeshit.

I’m not sure if Fantastic Four is great on its own merits, or if the bar is set so low that it is already three floors below the original floor I thought it was (which was already astronomically low). There’s so much on the surface this film has going for it, aesthetically, and to an extent, substantively.

The most obvious example being that it doesn’t look like complete dogshit, nor passable grey sludge lit as darkly as possible. Wildly fluctuating CG baby Franklin Richards (and overall unavoidable face replacements during action scenes) aside, what a breath of fresh air to not only appreciate the production design of a modern Marvel movie, but truly admire each detail in the frame. I’m talking from the cunt space suits, to individual items of furniture, meaningless dials on control panels that light up and curved CRT TV screens of varying sizes that adorn the Baxter building and beyond. Many gorgeous interiors give ample atmosphere and space for memorable scenes and actors to play off each other, so I’m not kidding when I say it was downright mesmerising being consistently reminded what it's like for A-listers to talk to each other in real rooms that are real.

Imagine if the spaces that characters in a movie occupied were characters themselves? What if, god forbid, space itself were a character? Holy fuck.

It’s also a nice little treat that The First Family is cast well and characterised with a respectable, quantifiable measure of depth – hell, I’d even argue they’re very well-written or something. They come right off the page! You’d figure it’s not hard to find a moment for each member in a four-member team to both shine as capable individuals with interiority, while sharing a believable familial bond in an ensemble, but do keep in mind this is like the second fucking time these guys have been rebooted in the last decade. Suffice it to say, everyone is great.

I was mostly concerned that Johnny would be Jock That Pulls Chicks But Also Has A Heart Of Gold At The End, and while he still kind of is that, they had the good sense to give him important things to do, not out of the film’s obligation but rather his own. Reed and Sue are fucking awesome, and with less than a few minutes of watching them together, any scepticisms I may have had since I first heard news of their casting evaporated nearly instantaneously. I don’t have to be convinced that Pedro (I say with rolling ‘r’s) deserves his moment in the spotlight for being in everything because it’s well-earned (and quite frankly overdue), and his performance as Guilt-Ridden Science Man truly serves as no finer testament to his ability. I was also relieved that Sue got the Neytiri treatment, not just as the blue pregnant badass that probably shouldn’t be doing a lot of the things she does in the movie, but anchors the team with a beating heart of sincerity in a grounded performance that feels appropriately calibrated to this genre of fanfare. And while far from the weakest links in the film, Ben was a joy to watch, as pigeonhole’d to the heavy as he was. And not to say I would’ve found another attempt at the rubber suit laughable, but something about the mocap felt just the slightest edge out of place for me, like Cousin’s performance was hidden under a bunch of rocks or something. More of him, please, especially if it means more Natasha Lyonne.

To me, Galactus and Shalla-Bal are the weakest links in the whole thing, given the limited screen time they have. In fairness, never has the scale of a big guy in one of these movies been more palpable, in the grand-feeling sound design and beautifully wide compositions during the film’s foray into some excellent cosmic sequences. In fairness, I like this iteration of the Silver Surfer mostly for her interactions with Johnny, and with what material she had, I thought Garner brought dimension and a degree of reservation in her presence that made her stand out whenever she was on screen. Ultimately, these two only work very well for getting the plot moving, but that’s… all they do. They’re both what you would come to expect to see in a Fantastic Four that’s finally good… but nothing more. Not to say more screen time would’ve helped deepen their impact, as I think the film’s quite remarkably well-paced, but I could’ve used something different from them from a motivation perspective. Give me something under the surface, something I haven’t seen recontextualised this way, that contrasts neatly with their stark visual (re)designs.

So. It looks incredible, with clear thought, effort and love poured into a tangible, visual identity across its alternative retrofuturism and cosmic otherworldliness, that respects and honours the source material. The Main Four are wonderful, even exciting, to watch together and on their own. I'll add composer god Michael Giacchino and his score are also worth an incalculable praise that I don’t have the time nor the words to gush about; in how, time and again, he significantly elevates the material presented to him in ways that are inventive and sound unique yet familiar, how his score here is essentially Incredibles 3, but also isn’t, how he always includes puns in the track names of his scores, etc, etc.

This film doesn’t need to be amazing, spectacular, or even, dare I say, fantastic.

This is the problem.

It’s fresh in my mind, but while I enjoyed a brisk, two-hour romp at The Movies with a friend, I was cradled by Giacchino’s score and wonderfully animated end titles sequence into the nefarious, spindly hands that reminded me of the real reason this film exists. It wasn’t jarring, but there’s a major tonal shift I experienced while being railroaded into Marvel jury duty. Something that admittedly used to feel exciting has been replaced by dread.

No spoilers, but a not-so-awkwardly but still off-seeming style of a scene shot handheld and with a strikingly shallow depth of field (borderline reminiscent of some of Zach Snyder’s recent work) is what you are rewarded with for waiting through the mid-credits of both this film and Thunderbolts asterix. And for the life of me, both scenes could not have soured my respective experiences of both films more.

When you’re as simultaneously disenfranchised and endlessly fascinated as I am about the current state of comic book movie slop, there’s a concerted effort to brush it away and remain cynical. To pick the low-hanging fruit, point at the easiest target and sound off (sensibly and with a degree of awareness of how the industry works, I may add). This is, of course, a discussion I’ve had the pleasure of engaging with numerous times with friends, and it never ceases to entertain or, at the very least, provoke some decent thought.

What I hate is that I care an awful lot, as it turns out, about these movies for babies. It stems from knowing what they were, what they are now and what they could be. This wealth of fictional characters, the breadth of the many worlds they inhabit, endless memorable runs, crossovers, it’s all been ripe for the picking for decades. It’s a testament to the enduring medium of comics, which I’ve had the pleasure of partaking in for the better part of a year – forming all sorts of memories with characters on a page is something profoundly meaningful I haven’t experienced since before even high school, I’m afraid to admit.

A newfound love for an art form not quite as popular as it used to be is heavily skewing my judgment of its translation to live action assembly line franchise bullshit, is that it? Mostly, but only because I’ve seen it work before. Actually work. The gradual buildup, movie by movie, years and hundreds of millions of dollars of Disney money laundering later, to a main event that even all the normies could get in on – that rewarded audiences for their attention.

So when I fast forward to the two most interesting Marvel projects in a hot minute, it’s incredibly disheartening to be rewarded at the tail end of their respective experiences with a reminder that there’s more to come. And what’s more to come is an incredibly disappointing, haphazardly Frankensteined mess of a committee of fucking Seele monoliths from Evangelion, not a community of artists, calling the shots. What’s more to come is wheeling in poor Patrick Stewart and his boyfriend Ian McKellen while they exchange lines written the day before, directed in front of the volume displaying another barren landscape template by the one annoying Russo brother while the quiet one looks at dailies.

Echoing the spirit of Nick Mullen’s impression of Tucker Carlson, ‘What is going on?’

I don’t fucking know. I miss when a movie like Thunderbolts was the worst quality these movies could stoop to; undeniably a swing in the right direction, if not lacking in several places. For all the hallmarks it couldn’t reach, at the very least, I admired that there was a palpable, grand design evident in Thunderbolts. Real commitment to making something different, establishing a distinct visual tone that could stand on its own in addition to serving a small function in the grand scheme of things. It's the fucking filmmaking the baseball cap man should be prioritising, not a means to ‘full steam ahead’ this fucking trainwreck so you can hard reset everything you’ve built.

Ding ding ding! This concludes the rant portion and overall the review.

I find being seated for a legitimately good time at a Marvel movie, let alone a comic book movie, a complete rarity these days. But if you could hold off the same pent-up resentment I harbour at an establishment so creatively bankrupt, you may find a good 90% of a movie to devour (like Galactus get it). There is so much to appreciate about the craft and architecture of this movie for reasons I’ve already listed, but above all, it has a voice that rings with personality in spite of existing in an undoubtedly flawed framework that holds it back.

To that end: it’s fantastic, for first steps.

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