Captain Marvel: Well titled!

Captain Marvel (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.8.19

Carol Danvers has endured more trauma, conflicting origin stories, alternate identities and just plain mean-spirited punishment than any other Marvel Comics character, likely because several generations’ worth of (mostly male) writers didn’t have the faintest idea what to do with a heroine who’d been created in the mid-1970s, as little more than a sop to the feminist movement.

Having traveled to Louisiana in search of Maria (Lashana Lynch, left), the friend who believed
her long dead, Vers (Brie Larson) finally begins to stitch jumbled memories into a coherent past.

All that finally changed in 2012, with the arrival of writer Kelly Sue DeConnick, who alongside artist Dexter Soy orchestrated a new series that firmly established Danvers’ Captain Marvel as a worthy figure in the Marvel universe.

And as an individual who can hold her own against heavyweight colleagues such as Thor and the Hulk.

That Carol Danvers has been granted similar respect by co-writer/directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck in the newest — and thoroughly enjoyable — entry in the meticulously crafted Marvel film universe. Captain Marvel manages the delicate balance of interpersonal angst, kick-ass action and whimsical snark, without succumbing to either slapstick self-parody or tedious cataclysmic excess (the latter a serious problem in many superhero films).

Credit also goes to Brie Larson, for her thoroughly engaging portrayal of a character who is equal parts pluck, resolve, intelligence, humor and (so it would seem) reckless stubbornness.

The result is just as entertaining as 2017’s Wonder Woman, which proves anew how much more satisfying the result can be — dare I say it? — with a woman playing a key role in the filmmaking process.

(Boden and Fleck have worked together since the turn of this century, initially on short subjects and documentaries, and later on features such as Half Nelson and Sugar.)

Panicked viewers who choked on their popcorn, while watching so many of their beloved heroes vanish in puffs of smoke at the conclusion of last year’s Avengers: Infinity War, may have wondered about that gadget Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury activated before he, too, faded away. This film answers that question, while also bringing two long-established sets of Marvel’s cosmic players — the Kree and Skrulls — into the film franchise.

This is an origin story with multiple interwoven layers, thanks to a cleverly structured plot by Boden, Fleck and co-writers Geneva Robertson-Dworet (Tomb Raider) and Nicole Perlman (Guardians of the Galaxy). They keep us guessing during a complicated narrative that never becomes hard to follow, despite several unexpected twists.

We meet Vers (Larson) during a warrior training session on the Kree home world of Hala, where — despite determination and the eyebrow-lifting ability to shoot powerful photon beams from her hands — she’s repeatedly out-maneuvered by her mentor, the insufferably patronizing Yon-Rogg (Jude Law). She’s also plagued by disturbing dreams that feel more like memories, and she bleeds blue. 

All this is set aside when she’s ordered to assist Yon-Rogg and several warrior colleagues in the rescue of a Kree spy who has infiltrated an outworld planet infested by the evil, shape-shifting Skrulls. The mission goes awry — details withheld to avoid spoilers — and Vers winds up pursuing Skrull adversaries on the hopelessly backwards Planet C-53.

We know it as Earth. Where, unexpectedly, the year is 1995.

(Much rich humor is made of this era’s first-gen computer tech, as the story proceeds.)

Boden, Fleck and editors Debbie Berman and Elliot Graham demonstrate their action chops during this Terran introduction, with an epic chase/battle sequence atop and within an elevated subway train, while S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and Coulson (Mark Gregg) attempt to keep up below, French Connection-style, while driving crazily between stations.

They’ve entered this situation as a result of Vers’ rather attention-getting arrival on Earth: at a point apparently prior to the appearance of any familiar Marvel superheroes. As a result, Fury is reluctant to believe Vers’ impassioned explanation of a galaxy-spanning Kree/Skrull war … until a well-placed photon beam shatters his smug skepticism.

From this point forward, Vers and Fury become inseparable and thoroughly satisfying collaborators, much the way Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff bonded — and anchored the narrative — in 2014’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

But the term “satisfying” isn’t quite strong enough for this film’s team-up; “amazing” would be far better. Because Fury is played here by a Samuel L. Jackson who looks 20 years younger, like he did back in the days of Pulp Fiction and Die Hard: With a Vengeance. He and Gregg’s Agent Coulson — still starring every week, in TV’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. — have been “de-aged” by the digital compositing wizards at Lola VFX.

The result isn’t merely persuasive; it’s pure magic, because it’s so organically real.

The playful relationship Larson and Jackson develop gives the film its heart, because we recognize that the bond between Vers and Fury rises via mutual respect. In a situation where shape-shifters mean than almost nobody can be taken at face value, they trust each other: in part because they have no choice, but also because they like each other. We see it; we feel it.

It turns out that Vers’ scattershot memories are grounded here on Earth, six years earlier, where as Carol Danvers (get it?) she was an Air Force test pilot alongside best friend Maria Rambeau (Lashana Lynch). The two token women, barely tolerated by their male comrades — 1989, remember — are able to fly only while working on some sort of special project with scientist Wendy Lawson (Annette Bening).

But none of these fragments coalesce into a connective tissue that answers any of Vers’ mounting questions; meanwhile, she and Fury find themselves in increasingly dire peril. What’s a Kree warrior to do?

Lynch’s Rambeau matches Larson’s Vers for strength and spirit, and the two women work well together. Alira Akbar is adorable as Rambeau’s precocious 11-year-old daughter, Monica; Mckenna Grace (immediately remembered from 2017’s Gifted, alongside Chris Evans) makes a strong impression during her fleeting, wordless flashback appearances as 13-year-old Carol.

Ben Mendelsohn is mysterious, sinister and amusing as head Skrull Talos, whose aristocratic bearing, weirdly incongruous sophistication and refined speech are at odds with his malevolent behavior. We never fully trust Law’s Yon-Rogg — by design, I’m sure — and Djimon Hounsou is striking as one of his fellow Kree warriors, Korath.

Finally, it’s grand to see Gregg’s Agent Coulson during his younger, more enthusiastically trustworthy days, prior to the increasingly convoluted — and, frankly, ludicrous — events that have befallen his television character.

Then there’s Goose, an orange cat with considerable personality, and a tendency to be employed as welcome comic relief. Initially.

The tech credits are top-notch, as always is the case with a Marvel entry. Production designer Andy Nicholson has a lot of fun with the anachronistic relics of this 1995 setting, and the planet Hala comes to glorious life via a veritable army of effects teams — including Industrial Light & Magic, and Digital Domain — overseen by VFX supervisor Christopher Townsend. 

Pinar Toprak’s score swings nicely between character themes and action anthems: a nice change from the overloud synth junk that too frequently substitutes for actual music in superhero movies. (Check out her score for the Pixar Sparkshort Purl, readily available online.)

Captain Marvel takes its time building to a terrific finale, which — thanks to well-paced character development — is fist-pumpingly exhilarating.

Clearly, she’ll play an equally satisfying role in Avengers: Endgame, coming in just two short months.

Meanwhile, mention must be made of the respectful, pre-film Marvel logo, which pays tribute to the recently departed Stan Lee: a truly class move. (Feel free to shed a tear.)