2.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for action violence and some rather nasty peril
By Derrick Bang
Well, it was inevitable: Mighty
Marvel finally stumbled.
This film’s problems are
numerous, but the largest issue is one of tone; director Peyton Reed,
apparently adopting 1989’s Honey, I
Shrunk the Kids as his template, has emphasized slapstick sight gags and
comic relief supporting characters to a point that pretty well destroys any of
this story’s potential drama.
The nadir is a climactic duel to
the death between miniscule characters, which takes place within a child’s
tabletop train set: a sequence that absolutely, positively doesn’t work on any
level. And then, just to make a bad idea even worse, Reed punctuates this clash
with an unexpectedly gigantic Thomas the Tank Engine, its enormous plastic eyes
bouncing back and forth in dismay.
Just as mine were doing.
Reed’s sledge-hammer efforts at
comedy are bothersome, but — in fairness — he can’t be blamed for trying to
make the best of a bad situation. Ant-Man
has been a troubled production for years, during a lengthy gestation in the
hands of British writer/director Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead and The
World’s End, among others), whose sly, subversive brand of humor certainly
would have been better than what we wound up with here.
But the project was ripped from
his hands at the last moment, the script subsequently re-written by Adam McKay
and star Paul Rudd. McKay is responsible for numerous Will Ferrell projects,
notably Anchorman: The Legend of Ron
Burgundy and its sequel, Talladega
Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby and this year’s Get Hard. I submit that Ferrell’s favorite scripter can’t, by
definition, be right for anything taking place in Marvel’s ambitious film
universe.
So: What were Marvel and Disney
thinking?
Rudd’s meddlesome hand is equally
evident. The star clearly shaped the script to fit the insufferable smugness
that has become his go-to screen persona, rather than — as always should be the case — modulating his
performance to suit the character’s needs. But the latter undoubtedly would
require a level of acting beyond Rudd’s capabilities, and thus we’re stuck with
his usual lackadaisical swanning from one scene to the next.
Rudd simply doesn’t seem to care about this character, or indeed the
entire film. Ergo, why should we?
The core story follows the broad
strokes established during several decades in the Marvel comic book universe,
with genius scientist Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) having perfected a process
that allows him to shrink to ant-size, while maintaining his molecular density
in order to (among other things) deliver full-strength punches. Along the way,
he also developed the means to communicate with ants, and thus can command
massive insect armies to help take out nefarious villains in his guise as
Ant-Man.
But all that was years ago. Wary
of the military applications contemplated by Howard Stark (John Slattery) and
his weasel corporate associate Mitchell Carson (Martin Donovan, suitably
smarmy), Pym retreats into seclusion. And since Ant-Man’s brief “career”
remained under the public radar, the very notion of such a superhero has become
little more than an urban myth.
Flash-forward to the present day.
Pym’s company has been taken over by Darren Cross (Corey Stoll), a former
protégé who has become obsessed by the promise of that earlier research.
Trouble is, every living thing Cross tries to shrink turns into a little puddle
of gelatinous bio-glop. Carson is still very much in evidence, and his
partnership with the clearly unstable Cross signals Bad News.
Desperate to sabotage Cross’
efforts beyond recovery, Pym seeks a new acolyte to wear the power-controlling
Ant-Man suit (no longer able to use it himself, for reasons never explained to
any satisfying degree). He somehow lands on skilled cat burglar and cyber
criminal Scott Lang (Rudd), recently released from prison.
Lang isn’t really a bad sort; the
act that landed him behind bars was justified revenge against corporate
malfeasance. Finally a free man, Lang just wants to get a “normal” job and put
his life back together, in order to re-connect with beloved young daughter
Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson), who lives with his ex-wife Maggie (Judy Greer) and
her new paramour, Paxton (Bobby Cannavale).
Paxton, bad luck, happens to be a
cop. And isn’t inclined to cut Lang any slack.
But Pym believes in second
chances, and makes Lang the offer of a lifetime: to become a superhero just
long enough to take down Cross. The subsequent training process apparently
takes weeks (months?), and is supervised by Pym and his somewhat estranged
daughter, Hope (Evangeline Lilly).
Her unresolved issues with Daddy
notwithstanding, Hope also is her father’s clandestine eyes and ears at Pym
Technologies, where Cross believes her to be on his side. She’s thus able to report on Cross’ progress ... and it
seems only a matter of time before he cracks the problem and replicates Pym's
original breakthrough.
All of this is more than enough
back-story on which to hang a potentially suspenseful action saga, but Reed —
and the jokey script — undercut the drama at every opportunity. Lang’s
“apprenticeship” is played entirely for laughs, particularly as he tries to
overcome his squeamishness at the thought of working alongside armies of ants.
Rudd never misses an opportunity to crack wise, always with that deadpan
half-smile that has been his signature for years. No surprise, then, that Hope
is disgusted with him; he deserves her contempt. And ours.
Granted, this is a venerable
narrative cliché: the washed-up guy who doesn’t take anything seriously, but
eventually, finally, has an epiphany
and rises to the occasion. Trouble is, we never get a sense of Lang’s emotional
growth; Rudd plays him at the same indifferent level throughout the entire
film. He simply doesn’t have the acting chops to do otherwise.
Matters are made even worse by
the involvement of Lang’s former prison cell mate, Luis (Michael Peña), and his
two ex-con associates, Dave (Tip “T.I.” Harris) and Kurt (David Dastmalchian).
All three mug shamelessly, which isn’t a big deal during the first act, when
they’re merely sidebar characters while Lang tries to get his life back
together. But they eventually get sucked into the final assault on Cross and Pym
Technologies, at which point we may as well be watching the Three Stooges.
Seriously? All of Pym’s careful planning,
and he blithely accepts Lang’s impulsive suggestion that they now work with
these clowns?
By this point, Reed and the
writers aren’t even trying to respect their audience.
Another issue also crops up, and
one common to superhero films: the random applications of power and
vulnerability. In one scene, the more-or-less trained Lang, now Ant-Man, holds
his own during a nifty skirmish with Captain American’s sidekick Falcon
(Anthony Mackie), who is guarding an Avengers facility that stores a bit of
tech Pym needs for his master scheme.
Then, a few scenes later, Lang
can’t out-maneuver two average, gun-toting security guards, who inexplicably
have no trouble tracking and shooting at this miniscule invader, from across a
large room. What, did they eat lots of carrots as children?
And let’s face it: Being able to
control literally millions of ants, including a species that delivers a
particularly painful bite, is an incredible weapon all by itself. That should
be Game Over before Cross ever gets a chance to employ the laser-equipped
shrinking suit that he eventually perfects.
On a happier note, the script
includes the by-now essential glimpses into the greater Marvel film universe.
Aside from the aforementioned Falcon, we also spend a few welcome moments with
Hayley Atwell’s Peggy Carter, and of course Howard Stark is Tony (Iron Man)
Stark’s equally arrogant father.
And, yes, you’ll want to hang
around during the concluding credits for not just one, but two hint-laden
epilogues. But don’t waste your money on 3D screenings; once again, this is
post-production 3D, and thoroughly useless.
It’s absolutely true that all
these Marvel films have employed various degrees of tongue in cheek since the
“first wave” began with 2008’s Iron Man,
and Robert Downey Jr.’s facetiously snide attitude. As serious as the
world-threatening events got in 2012’s The Avengers, we still laughed when Hulk beat the crap out of Loki. Then too,
last summer’s Guardians of the Galaxy
veered dangerously close to parody, but deftly maintained the satisfying,
all-essential balance of action and comedy.
Ant-Man doesn’t merely cross that line; Reed
blatantly ignores it. The result is deeply disappointing, and a thoroughly substandard
launch into the Marvel film series’ “third wave,” which continues next spring
with Captain America: Civil War and
eventually — after several more films — concludes with the two-part Avengers: Infinity War in 2018 and ’19.
Plenty of time during which to
right the ship. Fingers crossed.
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