Friday, December 21, 2018

Aquaman: Waterlogged

Aquaman (2018) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated PG-13, and somewhat generously, for considerable sci-fi action and violence, and occasional profanity.

By Derrick Bang

This film has serious issues with tone and balance.

Far too much of director James Wan’s narrative — he shares writing chores with Will Beall, Geoff Johns and David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick — sags beneath the weight of overly florid, Shakespearean-style dialog that most cast members lack the gravitas to pull off.

Having burrowed deep beneath the Sahara Desert, to discover the remnants of a long-
lost undersea kingdom, Arthur (Jason Momoa) and Mera (Amber Heard) activate a device
that will provide the next clue to the whereabouts of the fabled Lost Trident of Atlan.
And which is compromised further by the mildly earthy comments tossed off by star Jason Momoa. Mind you, he’s good with a quip, and Wan apparently felt that such contrasting elocution styles would be amusing. Instead, it’s merely awkward.

Then there’s the matter of villains. A superhero is only as good — as interesting — as his adversaries, and Momoa’s Aquaman has two. By far the more stylish, and far more dangerous, is a high-tech pirate known as Manta, played with savage malevolence by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. He’s a baddie to be reckoned with: a rage machine who radiates danger and has serious issues with our hero.

But Manta is relegated to B-villain status: an afterthought who isn’t much of a problem, and ultimately becomes a joke.

Which is ironic, because the true joke is Patrick Wilson’s laughably awful handling of the alpha villain: Aquaman’s half-brother Orm, would-be despotic ruler of all the undersea kingdoms. Wilson is atrociously out of his depth — pun intended — and radiates about as much menace as damp Kleenex. He looks and sounds like a whiny little boy who’s about to have his toys taken away.

This film collapses every time Wilson speaks a line, or faces off against the far more formidable Momoa.

I’m guessing Wan brought Wilson along for the ride, because the two of them have worked together on a bunch of nasty little horror flicks (the Insidious and Conjuring series, The Nun). Which points further to Wan’s poor judgment.

Aquaman also suffers from excess been there/done that: the inevitable result of too many superhero films piling atop each other. The regal look and sound of Atlantis, with its massive statuary and guarded “approach bridge” — and its position as one of seven mythic undersea kingdoms — are blatant echoes of Thor’s Asgard and its neighboring eight realms.

Aquaman’s mano a mano duels with Orm, over control of the Atlantean throne, are straight out of the Black Panther playbook … where, rest assured, the clashes were handled far better, and carried much greater emotional weight.


When the rest of the content is so sub-standard, such familiarity can’t help breeding contempt. At a butt-numbing 143 minutes, Wan’s epic is at least half an hour too long, particularly when so much time is devoted to ludicrously bombastic fight scenes. (Wake me when it’s over.)

All of which is a shame, because flickers of a better film emerge here and there, generally during quieter, character-developing moments. Momoa has notable presence, and he’s believable as a rough ’n’ tumble meta-human who has no interest in Atlantis or its throne. He’d rather down beers with the guys, in between low-key acts of good deed-doing.

But that’s getting ahead of things. As an origin story, Aquaman covers a lot of ground, with back-story occasionally interrupting present-day skirmishes.

(Let it be noted, as well, that Momoa’s haphazard voice-over narration of this saga is another ill-advised touch. Wan truly is tone-deaf.)

During a stormy New England squall, lighthouse keeper Tom Curry (Temuera Morrison) rescues a mysterious humanoid sea creature. She turns out to be Atlanna (Nicole Kidman), Queen of Atlantis; she has fled her undersea realm, rather than marry the hateful king to whom she has been betrothed. Over time, she and Tom fall in love and have a child they name Arthur, after Camelot’s legendary king.

This introductory sequence is sweet, although woefully brief; Morrison and Kidman share a warm rapport. An additional five to 10 minutes would have been better spent here, rather than on one of the later innumerable dust-ups.

Alas, Atlanna is unable to remain on land. In order to protect her young son, she’s eventually forced to return to Atlantis, and an uncertain fate. Arthur is left in Tom’s sole care.

Back in the present day, Manta and his equally predatory father (Michael Beach) lead an underwater squad that shoots and stabs an entire submarine command deck (which, frankly, pushes the definition of “family-friendly”). A brief encounter with the now adult Arthur Curry later, a vengeful dynamic has been established.

Enter Mera (Amber Heard), daughter of King Nereus (Dolph Lundgren) and princess of the undersea kingdom of Xebel. She has come to warn Arthur of Orm’s plan to unite the undersea kingdoms, in order to wage war on the surface dwellers — that would be us — who’ve long polluted and befouled Earth’s oceans. Arthur isn’t interested, until an initial show of undersea strength provokes his considerable righteous indignation.

(This film’s occasional nods toward ecological issues are quite welcome, particularly at a time when far too many people turn a blind eye toward such atrocities.)

As a half-breed outcast, though, Arthur isn’t likely to inspire followers; even Mera agrees with that, particularly after spending some time with him. Ergo, he must demonstrate his fitness for rule, by finding the fabled Lost Trident of Atlan, which — according to legend — can be wielded only by a true king of Atlantis.

This “quest aspect” of Arthur’s saga is the film’s best element: both because it involves a touch of Indiana Jones puzzle-solving and derring-do, and also because we spend welcome time with Arthur and Mera. Who, in the tradition of all such movie couples, initially don’t think much of each other.

Heard, radiating the confidence and bearing of a regal upbringing, also has a playfully saucy manner that constantly gets under Arthur’s skin; his snarky conduct, in turn, tries her patience. They’re cute together, and (of course) they thaw — and come to depend on each other — during a journey that takes them all over the world. A melee in Sicily is a stand-out action sequence, thanks to Mera’s hydrokinetic ability to manipulate water in all sorts of cool ways.

Willem Dafoe brings dignity to the “wise sage” role of Vulko, council to the Atlantean throne, who periodically visits and trains Arthur in the use of his powers, as he matures from boy to man. The New Zealand-born Morrison exudes honor as the protective Tom, who walks to the edge of his pier every morning, hoping that — one day — Atlanna will return.

Effects supervisor Kelvin McIlwain doesn’t stint on visual pizzazz, starting with Atlantis’ opulent wonders: both its current form, and its original land-based existence, before Tampering With Nasty Stuff caused the realm to sink into the sea. Visits also are made to the undersea kingdoms of the finned and gilled Fishermen, and the crustacean-like realm of Brine.

We also get plenty of cool beasties: from genetically enhanced Xebel sea horses and Atlantean sharks; to all manner of whales, dolphins and scores of other “ordinary” sea creatures; to the massive tentacled whatzit that guards the sacred Temple of the Dead King.

Even smaller effects are nifty, such as the way everybody’s hair waves in gentle underwater currents; and the soggy “splashes” that accompany characters that dive into — or out of — various underwater settings.

On the other hand, sequences set entirely underwater aren’t as successful. People simply don’t look “wet,” and — when at rest — they don’t move in a manner that suggests a fluid environment.

Momoa cuts a striking figure, and it’s easy to accept him as a powerful, near-invulnerable half-Atlantean. But he’s ill-served by these surroundings; too much of the film doesn’t work, or is at odds with other elements. Then, too, the baroque line deliveries and overstated bombast suggest that Wan wants us to believe he has made The Best Superhero Movie Of All Time.

Not. Even. Close.

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