Four stars. Rated PG-13, for intense action violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.4.14
This one’s a lot more
thought-provoking that I was expecting.
It’s safe to acknowledge, after
so many rip-snorting predecessors involving so many characters — whether
individually, or in groups — that Marvel Studios has the formula down to a science.
Captain America’s second solo outing once more offers a welcome blend of
familiar faces, superbly choreographed action scenes and just enough witty
banter to prevent things from getting too grim.
Rest assured: No sophomore slump
here.
And, yes, Marvel’s production
team continues to navigate the all-essential fine line: offering insider nods
to fans who’ve read these comic books for decades, while nonetheless ensuring
that newcomers won’t be left out. That’s a remarkable feat by itself; still
more impressive is the degree to which all of these films, this one included,
continue to build on an ever-expanding tapestry that now includes a weekly TV
series.
All well and good, and guaranteed
to result in a crowd-pleasing popcorn flick.
But scripters Christopher Markus
and Stephen McFeely make this film much more than a popcorn flick, thanks to a
deeply unsettling plot that’s ripped from today’s paranoia-laden headlines.
It’s a very clever touch, because Cap — Steve Rogers — is precisely the right
character to confront this crisis.
It’s not easy, in our
increasingly cynical times, to work with a character whose moral compass feels
too good to be true. Putting such an individual on the big screen is even more
difficult, demanding a perfect marriage of talent and material. Christopher
Reeve’s Superman was just such an iconic good guy: a genuinely virtuous hero
who could speak of “truth, justice and the American way” without prompting
snickers from the audience.
Chris Evans makes Steve Rogers
just as true-blue, with just the right balance between old-fashioned ethics and
resourceful savvy. We must recall that he’s a man out of time: a World War II
hero who — in his previous film — sacrificed himself for what he believed would
be certain death, but instead wound up in suspended animation, revived decades
later in our modern era.
Fish-out-of-water stories, when
done correctly, can’t help being entertaining. Markus, McFeely and co-directors
Anthony and Joe Russo do it correctly.
But while Rogers may be
alternately amused, baffled and delighted by how things have changed, he’s
never overwhelmed. He’s perceptive and quick-witted; he adapts as a situation
demands.
He also has an traditional
understanding of right and wrong, and — as this narrative unfolds — an
increasing suspicion that lines have blurred in a disturbing direction.
The film kicks off with an
extended prologue, which gives Cap an opportunity to strut his athletic stuff.
A French terrorist dubbed Batroc (Georges St.-Pierre) and his minions have
captured an ocean-going SHIELD vessel and its crew, and agency chief Nick Fury
(Samuel L. Jackson) sends Cap and the Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) to
handle the situation.
It’s a marvelous action sequence,
with Cap engaging in the same sort of parkour and free-running gymnastics that
made James Bond’s initial foot chase in Casino Royale so breathtaking. We
also get a dazzling display of Cap’s shield, wielded both as an offensive and
defensive weapon. Longtime fans can’t help being impressed; this film’s sfx
wizards get that shield to handle every stunt it ever pulled in the comics, and
the result is impressively realistic.
Once upon a time, Christopher
Reeve’s Superman made us believe that a man could fly; this film makes us
believe that a boomerang-style shield delivers precisely what Cap demands of
it. Pretty darn cool.
Batroc proves to be an
insubstantial threat, just as he was when introduced in the comics back in
1966, as a kick-boxing savate master more properly known as Batroc the Leaper
(and this film was wise to drop that silly sobriquet).
But it turns out that the Widow
has a sidebar mission of her own: something involving the retrieval of a data
drive. Cap isn’t pleased by this; he loathes need-to-know secrets, even when
Fury points out the wisdom of compartmentalized information.
But Fury soon has reason to doubt
this methodology, when it appears that SHIELD’s innermost security system fails
to recognize his own voice ... even though he supposedly programmed its
instructions. The situation quickly turns catastrophic; within hours, both Cap
and the Widow — branded traitors — are on the run from their own former
colleagues.
Somehow, this crisis has
something to do with an ancient, oft-whispered enemy known as the “winter
soldier.” Then, too, the timing is suspicious: coming just as SHIELD’s huge new
helicarriers are about to be deployed on their mission to protect the country
from safe vantage points, high in the sky.
This is the logical response,
given the havoc wreaked by the alien chitauri in The Avengers; dire threats
require ever-more-sophisticated defense measures. Fury understands this; so
does his longtime friend Alexander Pierce (Robert Redford), head of SHIELD’s
World Security Council.
Cap isn’t so sure; he questions
the wisdom of trading personal freedoms for the increasingly intrusive
“security” offered by clandestine surveillance. And if any of this sounds
familiar, that’s intentional; Markus and McFeely are going for the edgy,
real-world tone of classic 1970s political thrillers such as Three Days of the
Condor.
Indeed, I can’t help noting that
Cap’s dismaying discoveries — while trying to stay alive — unfold in a manner
quite similar to what Redford experienced, back in the day, as the ill-equipped
protagonist of Condor.
And it gets worse. A few
unpleasantly familiar figures from Cap’s first big-screen adventure pop up
again, uncorking obvious questions about their own unexpected longevity. One
individual, in classic evil scientist mode, chortles over how infiltrating the
United States has become even easier in this era of ubiquitous camera and
cyber-surveillance, because one need only hack such systems in order to
identify and target the most likely threats to a fifth-columnist invasion.
On top of which, profiling
software — the same algorithms employed by, say, Amazon, to calculate our
tastes in entertainment — can track personality, behavior and socio-political
tendencies in order to anticipate and identify the democracy-minded citizens
most likely to rise up and combat such an invasion ... and dispatch them ahead
of time.
I dunno about you, but I find
that quite chilling. Because it doesn’t sound unreasonable.
Cap and the Widow are perfect for
such a storyline, because — unlike most Marvel comics superheroes — they don’t
have secret identities. They’re well known as Steve Rogers and Natasha
Romanoff, often seen in street clothes; they therefore function as the
more-or-less “ordinary folks” caught up in an increasingly awful conspiracy.
(Granted, both are extraordinary in many respects ... but they’re not Norse
thunder gods or hulked-out scientists, and they don’t have the protection of
fancy flying suits of armor.)
These two characters are
well-matched by virtue of their opposing viewpoints: Steve Rogers, the
true-blue American patriot who believes in mankind’s nobler instincts; Natasha
Romanoff, the former Russian agent turned SHIELD operative, whose black-ops
instincts prompt her to assume the worst of every collaborator.
Rogers wants to trust his
friends; Natasha doesn’t believe true friends even exist.
Steve and Natasha begin this
adventure as wary colleagues; after all, they did battle side-by-side to stop
Loki and the chitauri in The Avengers. This script’s sidebar charm comes from
anticipating the necessary thaw, as they’re forced to rely on each other. Evans
and Johansson share a natural, flirty chemistry: He grows exasperated by her
refusal to be candid; she tries not to mock him too much as an overgrown Boy
Scout.
I keep coming back to the
Redford/Faye Dunaway dynamic in Three Days of the Condor. Evans and Johansson
strike the same sparks here, and we can’t help wondering where this
relationship will go.
But they’re not the only folks on
our minds; this massive storyline is laden with supporting characters. Jackson
is feisty, commanding and easily annoyed as always, his Nick Fury somehow much
more imposing than the super-powered colleagues he keeps trying to draft into
SHIELD.
Anthony Mackie makes a strong
impression as Sam Wilson, a war vet and compassionate VA staffer who helps
soldiers recover from the psychological damage of their combat tours. When Cap
decides that the halls of power have become hopelessly corrupted, he logically turns
to a civilian far removed from such halls: a former soldier with a similar
streak of patriotism. Mackie sells the part with easygoing charm.
Cobie Smulders returns as
intrepid SHIELD agent Maria Hill, further expanding a character who has become
an integral part of the Marvel movie tapestry; Maximiliano Hernández similarly
pops up again as condescending SHIELD agent Jasper Sitwell.
Hayley Atwell also returns as
Peggy Carter, one of the figures from Cap’s WWII past.
Newcomers include Frank Grillo,
as tough-as-nails Brock Rumlow, a special-ops veteran who backs Cap in the
field; and Emily VanCamp as Kate, the personable nurse who lives in the
apartment adjacent to Steve’s.
And, of course, Marvel Comics’
91-year-old paterfamilias, Stan Lee, makes his usual cameo, this time as a
Smithsonian Museum guard.
That latter bit is the payoff for
an apparently inconsequential earlier scene, before everything goes to hell;
once again, I applaud Markus and McFeely for a clever script that always makes
good on seemingly random details.
You’ll want to remain in your
seats, as usual, because this film includes an important post-credits scene —
directed by Joss Whedon — that anticipates next year’s sequel to The
Avengers.
Meanwhile, Captain America: The
Winter Soldier is a stylish, exciting and deftly constructed blend of comic
book lore and real-world political paranoia. That’s a tall order on anybody’s
menu, but the folks at Marvel Studios have succeeded again.
As Stan Lee himself would have
said, back in the day, Excelsior!
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