Disney's Marvel's Avengers (2008 to Too fucking long)
Alright, folks, buckle the fuck up, because we're about to dive headfirst into the steaming pile of cow dung that is Disney's Marvel's Avengers. If you've ever wanted to experience the cinematic equivalent of getting repeatedly punched in the face while riding a roller coaster through a landfill, then boy, have I got a treat for you. With a runtime that feels like a never-ending descent into madness, this so-called "franchise" is nothing more than an amusement park ride designed for those who crave the sweet, sweet embrace of childish fantasy indulgence and bootlicking dick-suckery.
So, let's talk about Endgame and everything that's come after, shall we? But before you think I'm gonna let pre-Endgame off the hook, let me be crystal fucking clear: it's just as bad, if not worse.
First off, the plotlines in this godforsaken franchise are about as coherent as a fever dream fueled by bathtub gin and expired cold medicine. It's like the writers got together, threw a bunch of comic book pages into a blender, and called it a day. What's that? You want a cohesive narrative? Well, tough shit, kiddo, because you're getting a never-ending parade of two-dimensional characters and plot twists so predictable, even a blind, deaf, and dumb chimp could see them coming a mile away.
And speaking of characters, holy hell, where do I even begin? It's like a who's who of forgettable nobodies, each one more bland and interchangeable than the last. There's Tony "I'm a billionaire but can't figure out how to use a razor" Stark, Steve "I've got the personality of wet cardboard" Rogers, and Bruce "I turn into a green rage monster because I didn't get enough hugs as a child" Banner. And let's not forget Thor, the god of lightning or whatever, who apparently can't decide if he wants to be a Shakespearean drama queen or a discount Conan the Barbarian. Oh, and the list goes on and on, like a never-ending nightmare from which there is no escape.
Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the one bright spot in this unholy quagmire of mediocrity: Guardians of the Galaxy. Yes, believe it or not, there's actually a movie in this franchise that doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon. And before you start thinking I've gone soft, let me assure you that this movie is far from perfect. But at least it's got a sense of humor, a killer soundtrack, and a talking raccoon that could kick Tony Stark's ass from here to Timbuktu.
But let's talk about the real elephant in the room, shall we? Chris "the fat loser millennial who got everything he never deserved in Parks and Recreation" Pratt. I mean, come on, guys. Is this really the best we can do for a leading man? A guy who looks like he stumbled out of a frat house, still reeking of stale beer and regret? If this is what passes for a superhero these days, then maybe it's time to admit that we've truly hit rock bottom.
The special effects in these movies are about as impressive as a middle school science project, and that's being generous. I've seen more convincing CGI in a Geocities webpage from 1998. And don't even get me started on the fight scenes. It's like watching a bunch of action figures being smashed together by a hyperactive toddler, complete with the requisite grunting and shouting. Real compelling stuff, guys. Bravo.
The dialogue is a whole other level of awful. I mean, seriously, who writes this drivel? It's like they hired a team of angsty teenagers to cobble together a script using nothing but catchphrases and outdated pop culture references. Every time one of these cardboard cutout characters opens their mouth, it's like being assaulted by a barrage of clichés and cringeworthy one-liners. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire writing process consisted of throwing darts at a board covered in buzzwords and hoping for the best.
And let's take a moment to discuss the villains, shall we? These so-called "threats to humanity" are about as intimidating as a wet fart in a crowded elevator. I mean, we've got a guy with a purple chin who wants to wipe out half the universe because he's got some kind of cosmic OCD, a robot with an emo haircut and a God complex, and whatever the hell that dark elf thing was supposed to be. It's like the writers just gave up halfway through and decided to throw in the towel. The final boss? Yeah he's, uh, purple - like Barney the Dinosaur purple, and uhh... he's got a fucked up chin. And he's like a billion Hitlers!
Don't even get me started on the endless parade of sequels, spin-offs, and shameless cash grabs that have been spawned by this monstrosity. It's like a hydra: every time you think you've finally killed it, two more heads sprout up in its place. And just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, they announce yet another movie, TV show, or godforsaken theme park attraction to further milk this bloated, festering cash cow. Can anyone tell me who the intended audience for "She-Hulk: Attorney at Law" is? Because I can't see anyone with a functioning cortex going for that, and I'm pretty sure humans need to have functioning cortices to turn on the TV. Yeah, I'll wait - I'm already dead, so I can wait for fucking ever.
Now, you might be wondering: why am I even bothering to write this review? Well, it's simple, really. I've made it my mission to expose the truth about Disney's Marvel's Avengers and its insidious stranglehold on popular culture. Because, let's face it, folks: we deserve better. Or not, but I actually don't give a fuck about that part I think.
Well, buckle up, kiddos, because now we're gonna dive headfirst into the steaming pile of horse manure that is Avengers: Endgame. That's right, the "grand finale" of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe – or at least, that's what they want you to think. In reality, it's just another bloated, overstuffed, self-indulgent exercise in corporate greed and creative bankruptcy. But hey, at least it's three hours long, right? That's gotta count for something! And to think, that's roughly the same amount of time it takes for Tony Stark to go through his morning narcissism routine.
Let's start with everyone's favorite smug, snarky billionaire: Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. You know, the guy who basically started this whole mess in the first place. Over the course of the series, Tony's gone from a charming, if somewhat insufferable, genius playboy to... well, basically the same thing, only now he's got a shiny suit of armor and a seemingly endless supply of daddy issues. In Endgame, we're supposed to believe that this self-absorbed, egotistical man-child is suddenly willing to sacrifice himself to save half the universe? Give me a break. Then again, it's probably the only way he could get people to stop talking about how his ego is bigger than his tower.
I mean, come on, have you ever met a Silicon Valley CEO? These guys wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone unless it boosted their stock prices or got them a glowing profile in Forbes magazine. And yet, we're expected to swallow this ridiculous narrative about Tony Stark nobly giving his life for the greater good, like some kind of high-tech martyr? Wouldn't he outsource the giving his life part to a Lithium miner in Bolivia? It's enough to make you want to vomit, and not just because of the terrible dialogue. Seriously, I've seen more believable sacrifices in a kindergarten play about the first Thanksgiving.
Speaking of terrible dialogue, let's take a moment to appreciate the sheer ineptitude of the script. I've seen high school plays with more coherent storylines and better character development than this cinematic monstrosity. The plot is so convoluted and nonsensical you really get to appreciate the comic book salad puree they serve with every fucking movie in this "franchise." Time travel? Sure, why not. Quantum realms? Throw it in there. An intergalactic scavenger hunt for magic space rocks? Hell, it worked for the last movie, didn't it? This script is so bad, I'm pretty sure it was written on the back of a cocktail napkin during a drunken game of Mad Libs.
And don't even get me started on the "humor" in this film. It's like they took all the worst jokes from a Reddit thread, translated them into another language, and then translated them back into English using Google Translate. Every attempt at levity falls flatter than a pancake, leaving you cringing in your seat and praying for the sweet release of death. Honestly, I've heard better jokes at a funeral, and at least those had the decency to end quickly.
But hey, let's not forget the "action" – if you can even call it that. The big, climactic battle at the end is such a chaotic, CGI-laden mess that it's nearly impossible to tell what's going on. It's like watching someone play a video game on the highest difficulty setting while simultaneously suffering from a seizure. And, of course, it all culminates in the most predictable, clichéd way possible: the heroes save the day, the bad guy gets his comeuppance, and everyone goes home happy. Well, everyone except the audience, that is. At this point, I'd rather watch two squirrels fighting over an acorn than sit through another second of this CGI dumpster fire.
Now, before I wrap up this long-winded rant of mine, I think it's important to give some well-deserved "credit" to the masterminds behind this mess. You know, the ones who are really to blame for dragging us all down into this quagmire of mediocrity. Let's take a moment to appreciate the fine work of the producers, writers, and directors who've made this delightful train wreck possible.
I mean, let's start with the producers, shall we? The Russo brothers, Anthony and Joe, who seem to have made it their life's mission to churn out these cookie-cutter superhero flicks with all the depth and nuance of a kiddie pool. I mean, sure, they directed some episodes of Community, so clearly they've got the chops to handle an overblown, self-important franchise like the MCU, right? And let's not forget Kevin Feige, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes, raking in the cash while gleefully pushing out more and more of these shallow, formulaic movies like some sort of capitalist assembly line. I can practically hear him cackling as he counts his billions, completely unconcerned with the damage he's doing to the cinematic landscape.
Then we've got the writers – Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely – who somehow manage to take fascinating characters with rich comic book histories and reduce them to one-dimensional caricatures. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they just threw darts at a board full of tropes and clichés to come up with their scripts. "Oh look, it landed on 'heroic sacrifice' – let's just shoehorn that in there somewhere!" They've managed to create a world where every character's dialogue sounds like it was ripped straight from a bad action movie from the '90s, and nobody seems to care because, hey, at least there's a big explosion every five minutes.
As for the directors, the Russo brothers (yes, them again), they've managed to take all the worst aspects of Hollywood elitism and distill it into a single, bloated franchise. It's as if they're completely oblivious to the fact that there's an entire world outside of their insular bubble of wealth and privilege, a world where people actually have to deal with real problems like poverty, inequality, and systemic injustice. Instead, they just keep pumping out these overproduced, self-indulgent spectacles that pander to the lowest common denominator, all while patting themselves on the back for being such "visionaries." It's enough to make you want to grab a pitchfork and storm the gates of their Hollywood mansions, just to remind them that there's more to life than CGI explosions and witty one-liners.
So, there you have it, folks: the creative "geniuses" behind Disney's Marvel's Avengers, a team of Hollywood elitists and ruling class bootlickers who seem to think that their sole purpose in life is to cram as much mindless, soul-crushing entertainment down our throats as humanly possible. And you know what? They're probably right – because as long as we keep shelling out our hard-earned cash for this swill, they're going to keep shoveling it right back at us, one terrible movie at a time. But hey, at least we can take solace in the fact that even they can't keep this train wreck going forever... right?
Now, I could go on for another thousand words about the myriad problems with Avengers: Endgame – the paper-thin characters, the nonsensical plot twists, the complete and utter lack of originality – but honestly, what's the point? We all know that this movie is a steaming pile of garbage, and no amount of snarky commentary or sarcastic quips can change that. So, instead, I'll leave you with this simple plea: for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, stop giving your hard-earned money to these soulless corporate shills. Disney's Marvel's Avengers is a never-ending cavalcade of craptastic cinema that should be avoided like the plague. If you want to waste your time and money on this mind-numbing dreck, be my guest. But don't say I didn't warn you. And as for me, I'll be over here, mourning the death of creativity and originality in modern filmmaking while I drown my sorrows in a bottomless pit of despair and cheap whiskey. Cheers, fuckers.
Lowtax's Score:
Plot: -10
Acting: -9
Special Effects: -8
Directing: -10
Music / Sound: -6
Overall: -43
Each category in the rating system is based out of a possible -10 score (-10 being the worst). The overall score is based out of a possible -50 score (-50 being the worst)
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