#squarise

If it happened today, Pearl Harbour would be called 12/7. In our own time we have witnessed the shock of 9/11 and saw the great American behemoth stirred to violence in response. So it was in 1941 that the US suffered a stunning defeat at the hands of the Japanese, not an easy subject to sell to US studios or audiences.

It is used as backdrop to the romance in From Here to Eternity and crops up in some TVM and DTV offerings, but the benchmark movie is of course Tora Tora Tora! (1970). Tora is cinema-as-history lesson, a bedfellow for epics such as the Longest Day, where both sides in the conflict are shown as human beings planning, fighting and making spectacular cock-ups. Ultimately this weighs Tora down- there are no villains and precious few heroes. The Japanese make the smart plans and the daring attack, but we can hardly cheer for them, can we? Martin Balsam and his fellow solid, middle-aged, actors are mainly charged with delivering short speeches or trying to crack a problem we know they will fail at. The Americans are wrong-footed and we watch their planes burn and their ships sink. A few characters pop up briefly but have no arcs. The production values are good – we see a fine selection of period planes and pre-CGI explosive action, but the model work has not aged well. It is more exciting than something you would find on the History Channel, but not much. And the Americans lose.

So, what would a re-imagined Tora have? First, some identifiable characters we can follow through the movie, root for in the action sequence, and worry whether or not they will make it. Second, in this day and age, it should give worthwhile parts to some women beyond ‘the wife’ or ‘the telephone operator’. Third, given the armed forces are fleshed out by fit, young people, how about some buff A-listers to boost the box-office? Finally we can recognise that modern audiences are ready to see the terror and horror of people caught up in the attack portrayed in a more authentic manner than was the mode in 1970.

And so in 2001 we got Pearl Harbour which, has been pithily said many times, is a film that will go down in infamy. It ticks the boxes set out above. It should have been everything Tora was not. It was however directed by Michael Bay.

Tora includes the true story that only two US pilots got off the ground to meet the Japs, and Pearl takes this as inspiration. It could have been Top Gun with Warhawks instead of Tomcats. Yes, the CGI and studio effects beat some of the shonky seventies model work. Yes it has some bravura action sequences, women who actually do things on their own initiative and expands to include a genuine non-token black hero. Then the box-ticking wavers. It does not feel authentic – one cute trick apart, how does someone who can’t read become a pilot? Why bring in the clumsy plot device of sending Ben Affleck off to fly for the RAF, when in fact it was illegal? And why does nobody smoke?

The dialogue feels forced, the Kate Beckinsale/Affleck relationship has little chemistry and Beckinsale/Hartnett none at all. The wrong-guy-got-me-pregnant twist would have made an excellent ironic end to a film in which a whole world comes crashing down, but no. The Director had to have his cake, eat it, regurgitate it, and share it with his audience. Credulity is stretched as our only pilots rush to the hospital, in scenes which could have been carried entirely by Beckinsale and her (honestly) non-token nurse friends. Then they rush down to the harbour to rescue trapped sailors, which the genuine black hero Cuba Gooding Jnr could have done instead of ending up looking like he’s actually token. Shouldn’t our only pilots be re-arming and refuelling to face a second attack? We then still have to overcome the fact that the Americans lose.

So they don’t. Not really. Bay could have made a sequel with this footage, or a new movie in its own right. Instead he staples a weary 45 minutes onto the film to show the Doolittle Raid, a pinprick yah-boo launched against Tokyo to restore American pride. Our fighter pilots become bomber pilots overnight and the plot is contorted to produce a faux uplifting bitter-sweet, schmaltzy ending. By not knowing when enough is enough, the director torpedoes his own film and it sinks with all hands. This was one of the defining moments of American history, but will Hollywood ever turn it into a classic movie?

As we all ought to know by now, America is a bit mental. Americans do things their own way, and they don’t care what anyone else might think about it (and with good reason; the rest of the world could cease to exist entirely and America would probably tick on just fine). Only in America would the machinations of the justice system prove to be such thrilling entertainment as to warrant regular episodes of daytime court TV shows on various networks. And only in America would one of these episodes - on arguably the best of all the court shows - transcend its sketchy format and reach the level of dramatic nirvana.

When I say the best of all the court shows, I’m of course talking about The People’s Court. These shows don’t have all that much between them as far as actual format goes; the way the law works, it doesn’t allow for a whole lot of artistic expression. So it all really boils down to the judges featured. The most famous is of course Judge Judith “Judy” Sheindlin, who presides over Judge Judy and rakes in a comfortable $45 million every year for the privilege. But there are at least a dozen more, and none more exhilarating to behold than Judge Marilyn Milian, who dominates her courtroom with affable humour that turns to blistering tirades against ne’er-do-wells that always deserve a whoop from the assembled court spectators but never get one, on account of them being so darn well-behaved. Probably because no-one wants to get on the wrong side of this judge.

It’s worth mentioning something about the format of these shows. This isn’t exactly like watching Casey Anthony or James Holmes being grilled by teams of legal experts in front of some of the highest courts in the land. This is small claims court - not even court, exactly; plaintiff and defendant agree to allow the show’s judge - in this case our favourite, Judge Milian - to act as an arbitrator in order to settle a claim out of actual, full-on court. It’s cheaper, it’s quicker, it’s easier. It’s also far more conducive to the televised format, especially due to the fact that these shows will pay both plaintiff and defendant for their appearances - any cash awarded by the judge is then deducted or otherwise factored into this appearance fee. Of course, this means that the justice served is rather diluted - petty claims made pettier by the fact that usually everyone goes home with a bit of pocket-money. The upshot however is that folks come into the courtroom with all kinds of harebrained claims; when the stakes of losing are so low, taking a chance on a bit of legal action seems like a good way to make some cash, potentially a fair bit of it, too.

With all that said, it is now the time to introduce The Wig Case. Here’s the entire thing on YouTube, with ad breaks edited out. It’s almost fifteen minutes of video time, but it is so worth it:

Well. What did I tell you? Daytime reality television has never been so good. The nuance and character of this episode trumps any other you will find - seriously, if you’ve never seen The People’s Court before, this may have raised your expectations too high for the rest of the show. As a writer, I can’t help but appreciate the episode’s perfect adherence to all kinds of storytelling rules. It’s so filmic, so narratively intricate, and so simple at the same time. It’s a story purportedly about material things - wigs, washing machines, money - but actually about humanity. Let’s dig in. If you haven’t actually seen the episode, seriously, watch it. The rest of this article is a spoiler zone, and if I’m warning you about spoilers in a reality TV show, you know it must be good.

So, Act One is the same as Act One in all episodes of this show. The plaintiffs and defendants walk into the court, accompanied by the iconic theme music and Curt Chaplin’s dramatic, tongue-in-cheek summary of the case. Immediately we are introduced to our characters, and they are a striking contrast. The plaintiffs, Heidi and Mendi, are a respectable-looking middle-class Jewish couple. Mendi has a briefcase and a suit; he wears a yarmulke. His wife’s hair is long and flowing, a statement. They look trustworthy. The defendants come in next, Jose and Mildred Geraldo. They’ve brought three others along with them, employees in their laundry establishment. They’re a small collective, and they look nervous, caught in the headlights. Jose, who never speaks during the entirety of proceedings, has a blazer over a shirt and a ferocious, blank glare at all times.

In Act One, the stakes are supposed to be set, goals established, and that is clearly and succinctly done by this point already. Plaintiffs want $3000 to cover costs of wig damage, defendants want their innocence to be established, and Judge Milian wants to find truth and sweet, sweet justice.

Act Two starts, and takes up the majority of the video, as it would almost any narrative film you’ll see. Testimony is given. First the plaintiffs, and context is established; the couple explain how the whole thing happened, as they see it. A brief introduction to the customs regarding the hair of Jewish women. Heidi talks about her decision to cover her hair - as is custom - with a wig. Judge Milian asks if she’s wearing a wig at this very moment, and she is; Milian calls it “fabulous.” This is some extraordinary, prophetic foreshadowing right here. Innocuous, slight, and entirely organic. A scripted show would have hammed this up, but it just kind of happens, for second-time viewers to pick up on and gasp. Then the ruined wig appears, looking terrible, and everyone can see that - the defendants give a nervous glance, knowing how bad it looks for them right now. The plaintiffs have religion and custom on their side, and it’s soon established that not all of their English is all that great - they are absolutely the underdogs, with no briefcase of evidence for them to dig into. Plaintiffs say that they washed the wig after being explicitly told not to.

Next the defendants have their chance to air their side of the story; the diminutive Guille Calixo (whose name and spelling thereof I am rather unsure, but bear with me) steps forward, being the main actor in this case. She describes how she called the plaintiffs to tell them that she had found “hair” amongst the laundry, as she did not know the word “wig”. Mildred mentions that she implores all her employees to phone customers for further instructions whenever a troublesome garment is encountered, as she has chosen not to wash certain things in the past - for fear they would be ruined in the process - only to be admonished by customers who find their clothes ignored. This clutch of people truly represent a certain otherness to the plaintiff couple; I doubt the Geraldos would be able to justify buying a wig for $3000, and I doubt Heidi and Mendi would think twice about reprimanding them for erring on the side of caution - they are in court, after all. Of course, this is me speculating, but it’s clear that sympathies rest with the laundry folk, as they are certainly not in any position to pay such a hefty fee for doing what they claim to be nothing wrong, and the odds stacked relatively nicely against them are clearly scaring the shit out of them.

Judge Milian then shares some home wisdom, relating how if she were to wash her own hair with laundry soap, she’d probably be able to sort it out with a bit of care and attention. The wig, being human hair, should logically follow the same rule. This is where she hits her stride - for her this was never a case of whether or not the wig was authorised for washing, but whether or not the wig in its current state constitutes a total loss. She doesn’t know, and the plaintiffs only have assurances that it is so. That’s not going to fly. This is the first twist, and it’s a solid one, one that would for a lesser episode probably suffice for being deemed broadcast-worthy. Heck, she even goes so far as to say that she could in all fairness just dismiss the case altogether, since the plaintiffs don’t have enough evidence to prove a total write off, and the defendants were acting pretty recklessly washing a wig in the first place.

But no. There’s a recess. Then Act Three begins.

Judge Milian is a master of suspense and dramatic timing; there’s a reason she’s got this show. She comes out again and starts talking to the plaintiffs again, with humour and innocent seeming questions. And then she reveals that she’s disturbed. It’s a thing of beauty. Suddenly something’s changed; suddenly Heidi was Keiser Soze all along, suddenly Rosebud was the wig, suddenly it was staring her right in the face the whole time. The $3000 wig was indeed brought into the courtroom, but it wasn’t ruined by the washing machine at all. It was there for all to see, perched upon Heidi’s head. It certainly looks like a $3000 wig probably should look. Hell, I’d go so far as to say it’s fabulous. Mildred Geraldo is beaming. She had no idea this was coming, but we’re beaming along with her. It’s a great moment. Heidi shakes her head in disbelief as the world just crumbles around her - it should have been the perfect crime, it should have been a clean sweep. She was making such lovely conversation with the nice judge; who would have known she’d have been, you know, some kind of justice-seeking genius.

The episode has everything; it touches on religion, the struggle for immigrants to be recognised and respected within America, the still complex relationships between middle- and working-classes within an ideologically (but certainly not practically) classless system. It provides some general interest in the minute and exacting world of high-end wigs, their users and their proper care. And it deals with such basic human emotions; it’s funny (Judge Milian shares jokes with virtually everyone in the courtroom), it’s suspenseful, it’s cathartic. We have an underdog to root for who comes through in the end; a cunning and clever pair of plotters who would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that meddling judge; we have a even-handed arbiter of justice in a world where justice could easily go awry; we have a plot that turns on its head a half-dozen times; and we have a twist ending that you almost certainly don’t see coming. If it was a movie, you probably would; since it’s reality TV, you probably won’t. Because it makes little real-world sense (why the bloody hell would you bring that wig into court on your head?) but it makes perfect movie sense. And that is why The Wig Case is not just an episode of The People’s Court; it’s a real-world masterpiece of dramatic storytelling.

The moral of the story is simple. “Don’t wash the wig.”

Spoiler Alert: Massive spoilers for The Dark Knight Rises follow!

After my carefully considered article about The Dark Knight Rises two weeks ago, here’s my inevitable frothing fanboy rant about bullshit criticisms directed towards The Dark Knight Rises. From my casual forum-prowling and facebook-stalking I have composed a list of the most frequent condemnations, and more importantly, compiled irrefutable ripostes to each niggling issue. I know I said I was above this in my last article, but petty arguing over minor movie plot points is the bread and butter of the internet, so I may as well wade in.

1. Criticism: If Bruce Wayne was so hung up on Rachel Dawes, why did he fall for Miranda in like five minutes?

Answer: Miranda and Bruce Wayne didn’t fall in love. At no point in the entire film did either character say ‘I love you’ or anything to that effect: they just had sex. No need to bring emotions into it. In fact Bruce Wayne made it very clear that he was still in love with Rachel right before he bones Miranda. I think she got the message. The same goes for his fling with Selina Kyle, they both needed a ‘fresh start’ and having someone around to grind wobbly bits with is always better than sitting on a beach somewhere, wanking and crying. The only emotional side to the Miranda/Bruce relationship was that he entrusted the nuclear device he built under the city to a woman who turned out to be a psycho-bitch. Whoops. Queue emotional turmoil.

 2. Criticism: Why did the League of Shadows want to destroy Gotham when everything was all lovely and nice for a change?

Answer: It wasn’t lovely and nice. Gotham was just as corrupt as ever, the criminals had just learned to conceal themselves and were of a different ilk to mob bosses Falcone and Maroni. I think this must be one of the stupider criticisms of the film, seeing as the echelons of Gotham’s corruption are demonstrated in the second scene. At the commemoration of Gotham’s purge of organised crime, there are two gangsters STANDING RIGHT THERE! Then Bruce Wayne gets mugged by Selina in his own home. Let us say Gotham is hardly without its undesirables. It was also heavily indicated that Bane considered the stock exchange to be a symbol and source of corruption and oppression, but just in a more socially acceptable form. Capitalists would disagree of course, but at least it is a defendable character motivation.

[caption id="attachment_2624" align="alignleft" width="290"] Touche, Catwoman. Touche.[/caption]

 3.Criticism: Why does Bane not just blow up Gotham instantly? Bond villain syndrome much?

Answer: Blowing Gotham up wasn’t the point. Seriously, anyone who had a problem with this must have hated the first two films. In Batman Begins, why the hell don’t they just put the microwave emitter in Wayne tower in the first place? In The Dark Knight, why doesn’t the Joker just blow up those boats instantly? The Dark Knight trilogy’s main concern has been depicting villains who torment an entire city to demonstrate the inherent greed and evil nature of humanity. The Joker argued that when ‘the chips are down these civilised people will eat other,’ but was seemingly proven wrong and then defeated by Batman before he could go any further. However, it is this pessimistic outlook that Bane hopes to resurrect (and succeeds) by reducing Gotham to a failed state. By showing the looting, mock trials, and executions that surfaced without much provocation, Bane could vindicate the ideology of the League of Shadows. Let’s not forget that the Gotham crisis was broadcast internationally, for the whole world to witness ‘the end of Western civilisation.’ Psychologically torturing Bruce Wayne was just a bonus. Yes, it would be easier to just blow Gotham up but that really wouldn’t have proven anything to anyone. In fact, you could argue that Batman didn’t do enough to show that people aren’t just savage, rapacious bastards at heart. Oh well, I suppose that’s Blake’s job now. Speaking of which…

 4. Criticism: How the hell did Blake of all people work out Batman’s identity?

Answer: The point is he didn’t take one look at Batman and say “well that’s obviously Bruce Wayne.” Instead he met Bruce Wayne in person and saw through the billionaire playboy persona he had created. Once you realise that Wayne isn’t really a vacuous yuppie, and this well-funded bloke in a mask starts running around Gotham at precisely the same time Wayne comes back from the dead, you start to wonder. The reason why no one else ever joined up the dots was because the only people Wayne ever associated with were other vacuous yuppies, who had neither the reasons nor the smarts to doubt what they saw. Also Blake didn’t exactly turn out to be an ordinary beat cop. I mean if he’s really going to take the job as the next Batman, intuitive detective skills and deductive reasoning are kind of a must. Whilst all that ‘Batman can be anyone’ crap comes off as very PC, what you really need is a tall, white, muscular male with a good chin, a brilliant intellect and shedload of cash. Blake might have to do a few paper rounds to fund his vigilante antics and some pilates classes, but TDKR made sure the audience understood he wasn’t just your average Joe.

5. Criticism: Towards the end of the film, why does Batman continue to do his Batman voice even when everyone he speaks to know his identity?

Answer: Well… alright, the voice is just stupid.

 6. Criticism: I can’t understand Bane! WTF?

Answer: Take that dick out of your ear.

Right, let’s just end that rant before it gets really infantile. This list could go on for much longer, but there doesn’t seem to be any point. Despite my enjoyment of this film, any movie that stirs up this amount of criticism must have problems. However, what baffles me is why are people only seeing these flaws now? And by ‘these flaws’ I mean potential issues that, as far as I can tell, could be levied against every single instalment of this franchise. I’m not saying that any inconsistencies in character motivation, plot development, or narrative pacing are necessarily unfounded, but that this is just how Nolan makes his films. Even my bubbly adoration for the Dark Knight series does mean I am blind to the clunky and unnecessary implementation of Gordon’s fake death in the second film. All these films are far from perfect, so really you could sit and stew over any aspect that doesn’t seem quite right to you. It’s only a criticism if these problems ruin your experience of the film. This is certainly what happened to me during Prometheus, hence I cannot stand the film, but never during a Nolan picture. I can’t help but wonder if this really has been the case for the detractors.

Perhaps the reason why some people are choking on their own bile over this film is that they love The Dark Knight for more than it really is. I had the luxury of attending a double screening for both films before the TDKR, and to me it seemed the coherent way to develop and resolve this epic series. Everything that made Nolan’s Batman great is all still there: the dark tone, profound themes, bold direction, and incredible performances. I guess the only thing I can recommend to anyone who finds the TDKR irredeemable is, if you love Batman, go watch the other two. Then see go this once more. Either you’ll fall in love all over again or end up hating the whole thing.

Director Tony Scott has died. I remember a time when I'd watch anything with his name on the poster. I also remember a film so bad that for the only time in my life, I considered giving up cinema and never seeing a film again. How do you write about the death of someone you did not know? How do you convey your sorrow, however genuine, without seeming to intrude on that of his family and friends. I've never known. But here are some thoughts on the death of a director I loved.

Scott was a top notch creator of classy, classy action thrillers, the best there was at what he did.  Top Gun, the pretty boy aircraft movie that makes all others redundant. Man on Fire, the archetypal date movie - 50% a broken man bonding with a lonely little girl, 50% Denzel Washington blowing shit up, and so good at both of these things. The drama was moving the action was raw - he was so good at both these things that the blend was not incongruous. The same is true of Top Gun - my mum's favourite movie. The planes are amazing, the action thrilling, but that's not what impressed my mother. Scott's emotion is just as real as his machinery, and his films equally unembarassed by hi-octane action and sincere melodrama.

Unsurprisingly, this was not a recipe for critical acclaim - but that fault lies with the establishment. Take Spy Game, easily in my top 100 films. I've always tried not to apologise for it, but ended up doing so anyway - it's a special film, yet somewhat neglected critically. Robert Redford working against his memories, his organisation and the clock to save Brad Pitt. Scott keeps the thriller thrilling despite the story's complexities - a "present day" plot of Robert Redford scheming in an office, never meeting the man he is trying to save, interspersed with flashbacks to other times and places. It keeps things lively without compromising on pace. But I remember it for the emotion that soars out of it in the film's final minutes.

(I also remember meeting a lass at university from Su Chou, and squeeing "oh, I've heard of Su Chou!", before remembering in a moment of crippling embarassment that the film uses the name as a Generic Oriental Hellhole.) And what's not to like about True Romance? A rare Tarantino script out of Tarantino's hands - and all the better for it. Low on explosions, but genuinely sweet, genuinely romantic. Christian Slater chatting to imaginary Elvis, just out of shot. The nerve-wracking tension of Dennis Hopper goading Christopher Walken into killing him with an endless, offensive joke.  Tarantino's direction might have emphasised the story's nihilism and wit, but would have been hard to care about. In contrast, Scott's honest emotion brought out the same blend as in Man on Fire - sure, there was violence, but that was incidental to a sweet and heartwarming relationship. My dream didn't last. So many directors create turkeys by compromising their vision. Not Scott. Domino was so soul-crushingly awful because he'd taken his tropes and skills and turned it up to 111. Too loud, too brash, like gorging on bigmacs. From my original review, which pulls no punches:

the experience was akin to having my eyes slowly peeled out of my head with a rusty spoon. At several points, I had to clutch my belly in pain...this is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Well, you can't win them all. I was intensely disappointed. And after three weeks of swearing off cinema, I did start watching again - I just gave Scott a wide berth. Until this morning brought the old affection right back.

It is the tragedy of all men that obituaries are written after death. Of course, that's not how suicide works. It's not the same as being unhappy - that's a lazy cinema stereotype. It's an illness, as real as cancer or a broken leg, that can't reliably be wished away with hugs and best wishes. All the same, I wish he could have woken up in the hospital this morning and seen just how loved his films were. In writing this article, I was heartened by only having an hour to hit the 12-o-clock deadline. It seemed appropriate. And in researching, I remembered just how many of his films I've still to see. It's gonna be a blast. I imagine that the grief of fans is cold comfort indeed to his family at this time. But there's not much anyone can do but be sad.

[caption id="attachment_2560" align="aligncenter" width="580"] On the set of 'The Avengers', Joss Whedon doesn't know what he's getting himself into...[/caption]

Around a year ago, I wrote an article explaining why I thought Joss Whedon was exactly the right man to direct The Avengers. One amazing film experience and over $600 million later, my opinion has been more or less entirely vindicated. Now, with the news that Whedon is in line to write and direct The Avengers 2, as well as overseeing the entirety of Marvel’s ‘Phase Two’, I wanted to revisit the subject and analyse exactly what this new responsibility means.

First things first: The Avengers was a complete and total triumph. It’s been said by dozens of reviewers, thousands of comic book fans and by myself on many occasions, but it’s definitely worth repeating. It showed that, unlike some of this year’s most anticipated blockbusters (Prometheus, I’m looking at you), it really is possible for a big-budget spectacular to live up to insane levels of hype, and simultaneously integrated the many facets of an expansive universe seamlessly. Top marks have to be given to everyone involved, but it’s safe to say it was a massive personal victory for Mr. Whedon.

But directing a single movie is a very different thing to overseeing the production of six big-budget comic book movies, the last of which will not only be Whedon’s second foray into directing for Marvel, but also the culmination of the eleven preceding movies in the series. Essentially, Marvel have put the development of their entire Avengers universe, which is only going to get more expansive in the coming years, in the hands of a single man. That includes Ant-Man, the story of a man who change the size of his body at will, directed by Edgar Wright of Shaun of the Dead and Scott Pilgrim vs The World fame; and Guardians of the Galaxy, an intergalactic romp with a team whose members include a living tree who also happens to be a genius, and a gun-toting raccoon; not to mention the next instalments in the Iron Man, Thor and Captain America series respectively. Basically, there’s never been a trickier or busier time to be at the helm of the Avengers series, and yet Joss Whedon has grabbed it with both hands and a childlike sense of glee at the prospect of ordering around superheroes for the next three years of his life.

But it is important to remember the magnitude and the difficulty of the task ahead of Whedon, and the simplest way to analyse this is by breaking down what his likely responsibilities will be for each upcoming release. Cue conjecture!

[caption id="attachment_2563" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Shane Black's 'Iron Man 3'[/caption]

Iron Man 3 (expected 2013)

This is the film which Whedon is likely to have the least to do with, for a number of reasons: firstly, the film is already well into its production schedule, and secondly the creative minds behind the film, namely writer and director Shane Black, have stated their intention to distance this film from the Avengers series as a whole, instead ensuring that it is purely a Tony Stark/Iron Man story. However, it is likely that the film will feature a post-credits sequence which will almost undoubtedly have ties to either the next film in the series, or the overarching plot of Avengers Phase Two. If this is the case, it would make sense that Whedon would have some say in what this sequence would entail.

[caption id="attachment_2565" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Alan Taylor's 'Thor: The Dark World'[/caption]

Thor: The Dark World (expected 2013)

The sequel to Thor, on the other hand, will undoubtedly see more of Tom Hiddleston’s Loki being a naughty bastard, and with Loki’s important place in Avengers continuity, it seems probable that Whedon will want to have some say about his villain’s legacy, particularly if he is to feature in Avengers 2, which at this time seems likely. However, other than Loki’s involvement, Whedon will probably be taking a backseat for this one, as very little, or indeed none of the film is set to take place on Earth. This suggests a more standalone Thor story than the previous film, and therefore will probably only feature the smallest of hints towards the Phase Two plot arc.

[caption id="attachment_2561" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Joe and Anthony Russo's 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier'[/caption]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (expected 2014)

While the title of the Cap sequel suggests a more personal adventure for the super-soldier, SHIELD will undoubtedly feature heavily. Whilst Whedon didn’t introduce the agency into the Cinematic Universe, he was responsible for much of the fleshing-out of the secretive organisation, and it seems like he would at least provide consultation for directors Anthony and Joe Russo on some of the important aspects of SHIELD, particularly if they decide to feature the shadowy ‘council’ seen in The Avengers. Again, though, the filmmakers have expressed a desire to tell a Captain America story as opposed to an Avengers one, and as such Whedon will probably only be involved to provide teases towards the plot arc.

[caption id="attachment_2559" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Edgar Wright's 'Ant-Man'[/caption]

Ant-Man (release unknown, suggested 2014)

Similar to Captain America: The Winter Soldier, intuition suggests that this film will feature SHIELD as a fairly central plot point, so it seems likely that Whedon would want some creative control over their representation. However, as the first entirely new character to be introduced to the Cinematic Universe during Phase Two, it’s a safe bet that Whedon will be giving Edgar Wright a fairly free reign over the origin story. An appearance by Nick Fury is almost guaranteed, though, if Ant-Man is going to find himself a place on the Avengers roster.

[caption id="attachment_2562" align="aligncenter" width="580"] 'Guardians of the Galaxy', director as-yet unknown[/caption]

Guardians of the Galaxy (expected 2014)

This is the film that Whedon will likely be most invested in during the run-up to the Avengers sequel, for a number of reasons. Firstly, the film will be introducing an entirely new team to the Cinematic Universe, one completely different from the other major players in the series. Secondly, it’s clear that Whedon has a specific mythos thought out for the existence of aliens in the Avengers continuity, introduced through the Chitauri, and it is likely that he will want to keep that mythos clear of mess and confusion. Thirdly, it is the film directly preceding Avengers 2, and the evidence of Phase One suggests that it will have the most connections to the big cross-over event, in the same way that Captain America set up a number of elements for The Avengers. Finally, the comic book versions of the Guardians of the Galaxy each have a specific vendetta against Thanos, the shadowy ‘Big Bad’ glimpsed fleetingly in the mid-credits sequence of The Avengers, presumably being set up as the villain of Phase Two. As such, it is entirely likely that Thanos will appear in Guardians of the Galaxy as ‘preparation’ for his appearance in Avengers 2 the following year, and Whedon will undoubtedly want to keep his Big Bad in check before rolling him out to face off against his team.

[caption id="attachment_2564" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Finally, the culmination of seven years and eleven films, Joss Whedon's 'The Avengers 2'[/caption]

Avengers 2 (expected 2015)

The big one is pretty self-explanatory: Whedon will be taking writing and directing duties, and judging by the box-office success of The Avengers the studios would be mad not to let him have creative control over the whole project. Similarly, judging by the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe as a whole, it seems unlikely that the studio bosses would want the gravy train to end there, so it is entirely possible that Whedon may even lay the groundwork for Phase Three of the Cinematic Universe: with the amount of source material there is to draw from, we could be seeing Marvel movies until the end of time itself.

And for as long as Joss Whedon is in charge, I for one can’t wait.

[caption id="attachment_2551" align="aligncenter" width="580"] The sanitised violence of 'A Bridge Too Far'...[/caption]

It has been said that all war movies are anti-war movies. This is less true of the flag-wavers of the forties and fifties where the courage and sacrifice of ‘our boys’ saves the day against the cunning and often faceless enemy. Come the sixties we had a slew of deliberately anti-war films with the heavy message that war is bad, man.

War as spectacle sits uneasily with the message that it is fundamentally a terrible thing. Cinema is however for escape into places where we will never go. Most of  us will (I hope) never know the terror of being under fire, never see the horror of death and dismemberment and never face that me-or-him choice when an enemy comes to close quarters. Even films which pretend to have an anti-war message can thus stray into ‘War porn’ territory. Let’s face it, we like seeing stuff getting blown up and the little boy in our hearts just loves those Spitfires, Hueys and Black Hawks.

Which brings me to the title Death From Above (tattooed on the arms of the MI in Starship Troopers, but that’s for another day). Black Hawk Down and A Bridge Too Far share a lot of common characteristics. Both were based on best-selling books and both were firmly based in reality, albeit with necessary cinematic licence. Both are well over two hours long, with increasing levels of mayhem and confusion before the sober conclusion. Bridge deploys a battalion of bankable male stars from the seventies, with a roll-call of British character actors filling out the ranks. Stars such as Robert Redford, Ryan O’Neil and Laurence Olivier however don’t get much do with their short cameos. Black Hawk likewise has an ensemble cast of younger American and British actors of significance from the noughties, with Orlando Bloom and Ioan Gruffud making brief contributions to the plot. For Directors we have the big guns of Richard Attenbrough vs Ridley Scott.

In both films, a confident airborne attack is launched with overwhelming force against a surprised enemy. Both the Germans and the Somalis begin the films as poorly-armed rabble, against whom we predict a walk-over. We see the top-down planning from the generals-eye view, so you can follow the strategy if you watch carefully enough (despite what Halliwell might say). We also see the grunts taking the heat on the ground. Black Hawk follows a simple plan, which proves too simplistic for its own good. Bridge narrates a complex and ambitious plan which its title hints is doomed to fail.

Bridge is one of those films no-one makes any more. In the pre-CGI days, those are real paratroopers jumping in their hundreds from real Dakotas. There is a stirring martial theme tune, which admittedly is not as catchy as 633 Squadron or the Dambusters. Much of the violence is sanitised, in that men go ‘aargh’ and fall over when shot. There is relatively little swearing, which makes Elliot Gould’s ‘Shit!’ all the more effective. The acting tends to the wooden, but Sean Connery gives a good turn as an increasingly impotent general Urqhart and for me the stand-out is the impossibly British Anthony Hopkins apologising as he trashes Arnhem’s houses.

[caption id="attachment_2552" align="aligncenter" width="579"] The grittier, more explicit images of 'Black Hawk Down'[/caption]

Two and a half decades later and the cinematic world has changed. CGI enhances the action and brings it closer. It also cheats the little-boy-at-heart who can’t be sure if they are real helicopters swooping overhead. Blood spurts and body parts are blown off as the grunts cuss and swear their way to sanctuary. A mix of ethnic music adds to the atmosphere – especially in the stand-out  sequences of the Humvee convoy attempting to find its way out of Mogadishu.

And the enemy were not so dumb as we thought they were. The Somalis react with rage and swarm to spoil the clean get-away planned by the men in the Black Hawks. The Germans get their act together with surprising speed and turn a war-winning operation into a “bloody disaster”. Watching the general’s plans unravel and the troops pay the price is the driving core of the films.

Black Hawk was criticised on release for its political naievity – the Somalis stay a faceless rabble who are shot down like Red Indians in old westerns. Other than in brief flashes it passes over the large numbers of women and children caught in the crossfire as the Americans tried to blast their way out of the mess they had created. In Bridge the polite invasion by the British is met by steely SS General Maximillian Schell ordering Arnhem to be flattened. Reflecting the mood of the seventies, the Germans are no longer just brutal Nazis, but are allowed to show compassion towards the wounded and prisoners.

And the message? Attenborough allows a revisionist air to creep into his lead characters in Bridge – other than the blissfully arrogant Dirk Bogarde, almost everyone seems to know from the start that the mission is doomed. Ridley Scott skips the message that maybe the Americans should have stayed at home. Instead, he gives Eric Bana the line that could apply to all war movies “It’s about the guy next to you.”

Superhero movies are currently one of the more prevalent forms of blockbuster movie in cinemas, and with the financial success of The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises, there will undoubtedly be more commissioned and released in the next few years – in fact, Marvel have announced no fewer than six new movies based on some of their properties to be released in the next four years. Due to this newfound popularity, adaptations are bringing in more and more elements from their source material, with the Avengers film series blazing the trail in many ways. But there are a lot of elements which are commonplace in comic books which should, under no circumstances, be transferred to the screen. Here are just five of those elements!

[caption id="attachment_2500" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Gabriel 'Vulcan' Summers, otherwise known as the single most overpowered bastard in Marvel Comics history.[/caption]

5. Ridiculous overpowering

There are a few characters in the Marvel universe who are just too powerful. Gabriel Summers, aka Vulcan, the ‘secret’ third Summers brother after Scott (Cyclops) and Alex (Havok), is just one example of this overpowering: he has control over ALL ENERGY, and has been shown to do pretty much anything with it. He used his abilities to take control over entire alien empires, and the only way anyone could stop him was to blow him up with a bomb which also happened to tear a hole in space and time. In a nutshell, Vulcan was way too powerful, and yet the knowledge that he will always be defeated, makes his appearances and conflicts with the character incredibly boring and predictable.

Superhero movies need to steer clear of obvious overpowering: The Avengers did a fantastic job of controlling the power levels of the characters: for example, even as a Norse demigod, Thor never felt too powerful in contrast to the rest of the characters, and yet there was a great level of continuity in each character’s abilities. Basically, and I worry that this will be the message for all of these points, more superhero movies should be like The Avengers! Are you listening, industry?

[caption id="attachment_2499" align="aligncenter" width="581"] Ego, the Living Planet - possibly the stupidest alien life-form ever to face the X-Men.[/caption]

4. Moving too far out of their comfort zone

Occasionally, a shift out of the comfort zone can reinvigorate a franchise. However, the various cinematic universes Marvel have created (the Avengers universe, the X-Men universe, and the Spider-Man universe, which all seem to exist independently of each other) each have their own continuity, and messing around with these will cause problems. Thor and The Avengers, for example, established that aliens (or ‘extra-dimensional beings’, aka...aliens) exist within the Avengers universe, and therefore the upcoming Guardians of the Galaxy film, featuring a roster of aliens, makes complete sense within the cinematic universe. In contrast to this, the X-Men cinematic universe is more grounded in reality, and the introduction of extra-terrestrial elements to this universe would be incredibly jarring, and would ultimately detract from the themes of prejudice which run through the films.

The X-Men films have managed to circumvent the involvement of aliens thus far: whereas the entity known as the ‘Phoenix’ is a godlike alien being in the comics, the film version, featured in X-Men: The Last Stand is an insane and powerful alter-ego of Jean Grey. While there was little to like in the film as a whole, the alteration of the Phoenix character was effective and in keeping with the continuity established by the previous instalments in the series.

[caption id="attachment_2501" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Nate 'X-Man' Grey and Nate 'Cable' Summers, related to each other...somehow...[/caption]

3. Overuse of alternate future timelines

The upcoming sequel to Matthew Vaughn’s brilliant X-Men: First Class has recently been named X-Men: Days of Future Past, signalling that it will, at least loosely, follow the plot of the comic book arc of the same name, which takes place in a dystopian future timeline in which mutants are hunted down by oppressive government agents. I have absolute faith in the filmmakers to do a good job with the film, and in fact I was more than a little excited by the title reveal, but it does place future comic book movies on thin ice.

Even just within the X-Men comic books, there are dozens of alternate future timelines, and at some point it becomes too dense and confusing. For example, Jean Grey and Scott Summers, aka Phoenix and Cyclops, have a number of children floating around the X-Men multiverse: of particular note are Nate Summers and Nate Grey, aka Cable and X-Man, who are sons of Phoenix and Cyclops from different alternate timelines. However, due to some timey-wimeyness, Cable appears to be roughly the same age as Cyclops’ (his dad’s) grandfather, while X-Man is in his early twenties. These characters were created to explore ideas of ‘nature vs. nurture’, and while these bizarre elements can work in a comic book series wherein the writers have multiple issues to explore the backstories and motivations of these characters, trying to fit all of this into a 90-minute film will inevitably cause the audience to lose interest completely, and that is a death sentence for a movie franchise.

[caption id="attachment_2497" align="aligncenter" width="580"] The Avengers face off against the X-Men in an almighty clash for...some reason.[/caption]

2. Giant, predictable crossover arcs

Crossover arcs are fun, if somewhat hollow, exercises to try and draw fans of one particular comic into others. Unfortunately, rather than finding common ground and actually making an interesting comment on the similarities and differences between different superhero teams, they usually end up as a massive game of ‘who would beat who in a fight’. While this can be a fun conversation topic between friends, more often than not it struggles to sustain a multiple-issue comic book arc, and would almost definitely make very flimsy material for a film.

Take the current Marvel crossover, Avengers vs X-Men: while it looks at some interesting questions of morality, with the Avengers believing that a young girl who may be responsible for an upcoming apocalyptic event should be imprisoned and possibly executed, while the X-Men fight back to protect her. However, it has quickly become a muddy, vaguely nonsensical mess basically concerned with the X-Men laying the smackdown on various members of the Avengers, and it just isn’t interesting to read. Whilst it would be interesting to see, for example, Spider-Man turn up in The Avengers, any attempt at creating a superhero movie crossover is likely to feel more like a money-making exercise than something done because it feels natural and organic to the story, and thus the studios should probably steer clear.

[caption id="attachment_2498" align="aligncenter" width="580"] *Spoiler alert* Colossus' poignant, heart-rending death. It...did not stick.[/caption]

1. The Resurrection Problem

This is the big one, my main issue with long-running comic book series: they can’t let anyone stay dead. In the X-Men comics, Jean ‘Phoenix’ Grey is the main victim of the resurrection problem, having died no fewer than four times in the character’s fifty-year history, and the general consensus on the majority of the times she has been brought back from the dead is that this particular overused plot device weakens the sacrifice that she has usually made.

This does not just apply to the Phoenix, though: a particularly moving arc of the X-Men comic books featured Piotr Rasputin, better known as Colossus, sacrifices his own life to cure thousands of people across the globe of the deadly Legacy Virus. The sacrifice is made even more poignant by the fact that the character’s beloved younger sister Ilyana succumbed to the Virus a number of years before. However, in recent years, both Colossus and Ilyana (aka Magik) have been brought back to life through various convoluted plot devices, and the impact of the initial sacrifice has been lessened to the point that it is basically irrelevant.

There are ways to get this idea into films, ones which are getting picked up by comic books more and more: for example, the Ultimate Marvel series recently, and famously killed off Peter Parker in favour of a new, younger Spider-Man named Miles Morales, thus allowing the franchise to continue after the death of the main character. Indeed, the end of The Dark Knight Rises seems to suggest a very similar thing happening within the Batman cinematic universe, although at the same time it seems unlikely that any future Batman films will occur within the world Christopher Nolan has created.

However, for the most part, it’s probably best for superhero movies to steer clear of the Resurrection Problem, as nothing is more likely to confuse and irritate casual filmgoers than seeing a formerly-dead character alive and well on-screen.

Almost a year ago, I was sitting with a friend musing over what we would endure for a chance to see the final cut of The Dark Knight Rises before its release. We agreed that being methodically pounded in the ribs by Tom Hardy, whilst Christopher Nolan sat in the corner staring into your eyes and touching himself, would somewhat ruin the experience. We also agreed it would still be totally worth it. I won’t divulge whether or not I presently believe that to be the case, I merely intend to illustrate our anticipation for this particular summer blockbuster. Indeed, many nerds, fanboys, basement-dwellers, and even a few ‘normals’ would have jumped at a similar opportunity. This high degree of expectation and devotion therefore explains the extensive and venom-fuelled debates currently raging online over whether this film is ‘great’ or just ‘quite good’. I suppose some people feel that, in the end, TDKR just wasn’t worthy of a shattered ribcage and prolonged intimacy issues. Idiots.

However, I refuse to fling myself into the ring and bitch about whether Alfred was chummy enough with Bruce, or if a broken back can really be fixed by a swift punch and a bed sheet glued to the ceiling. The few minor plot holes I thought cropped up throughout TDKR were easily rectified upon a second viewing (if you believe otherwise then you’re a right numpty), and so I feel the debate needs to be focused on the larger and more pressing issue: where does it stand in the trilogy? And by that I mean, does it even matter if it is better/worse than The Dark Knight? While this question addresses the nature of trilogies in general, in this article I’d like to offer some reflections on Nolan’s Dark Knight series; its relation to the development of superhero movie, and how this will affect the future of the superhero genre. 

[caption id="attachment_2542" align="aligncenter" width="580"] The iconic imagery of The Dark Knight Rises.[/caption]

Threequels and Quality Control

Although many exist purely to bleed audiences of their money, sequels at least have the potential to achieve a higher critical status than their predecessors. But it is no secret that threequels just tend to suck a bag of old dicks. Except they don’t really, not all of them. No doubt many of you have examples of the third feature even being the superior film, Return of the King or Toy Story 3 come to mind, whereas others are pure and unmitigated retard on toast, like Spider-Man 3 and X-Men: Last Stand. Notice how those last two were superhero films? Even though there is no formula to detect the overall quality of instalments in a franchise (despite whatever the internet says), superhero films and threequels have a troubled relationship. The problem seems to be that after the origin story is told, and the fully realised superhero is presented in the sequel, studios are then far too concerned with outdoing the previous feature. Instead, a good threequel should try to recapture the inspiration of both films. It should readdress the established ideas while adding something new to the mix, rather than merely trying to be a sequel to the sequel.

If you haven’t guessed yet, yes I am arguing that TDKR is a damn good threequel and possibly the best I’ve seen. Nolan makes no attempt to essentially ‘remake’ TDK, as this would have just been pointless and this tends to be the case with most threequels. The Dark Knight series is one of the few franchises that demonstrate a structured continuity throughout all three films, as each part informs and compliments the others. Could anyone really say the same for Die Hard?

[caption id="attachment_2540" align="aligncenter" width="580"] The follies of Batmen throughout the ages.[/caption]

Why So Serious?

In terms of logistics and realism, which allow for a much more reasoned suspension of disbelief, Batman has never seemed more possible than in Nolan’s depiction. A bunch of decent actors, a compelling narrative, and a carefully crafted script (you know, the ingredients for a good movie) has earned the series a certain consideration; a high regard that was not normally reserved for superheroes in popular opinion. Many have expressed gratitude towards Nolan for having the balls to finally take the superhero film concept ‘seriously’ with Batman Begins. At last! The false mainstream perception of superheroes wearing y-fronts over tights has been vanquished forever! Except, when I was a wee lad I remember this was the exact same praise bestowed upon Bryan Singer’s X-Men (2000), or Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man (2002). And we all know where that ended. Ok, Nolan would never produce such mind-numbing crap in his entire career, and his superhero incarnation certainly blew the competition out of the water. However, I can’t help but feel that Bale’s gravelly, throat-cancerous Batman drawl has been, and will continue to be, the subject of more ridicule than Clooney’s rubber nipples.

Gimp-batsuit-related jokes aside, in order to assert its significance, there have been many attempts to overexert the series’ potential as a social commentary. Although any film text can obviously be read as a cultural and political product (not to mention the superhero concept is ripe for theoretical scrutiny), this is hardly political cinema in its purest form. Yes, it would be nice if Nolan had some agenda that we could all analyse and take very seriously, but honestly Iron Man was far more engaged with contemporary politics than TDKR. 

Nolan’s Legacy is Premature

I have yet to understand why The Dark Knight is considered to be a ‘game-changer’ (and if it is, then why TDKR is not). Not that it isn’t worthy of blatant plagiarism and shameless reproduction, but that this ‘game change’ simply hasn’t happened. Whilst Nolan can be praised for his re-invention of the superhero genre, his brand of melancholic, densely structured, scowling-based drama hasn’t really been attempted by anyone other than him. Judging by the other DC Comics adaptations, we can safely say that Nolan’s method certainly hasn’t been used as a template. For instance, Watchmen was a colourful and graphic romp that revelled in its excessive comic book aesthetic, like watching violent children kill each other in a bouncy castle made of jelly. Green Lantern was also a colourful and graphic romp that revelled in its excessive comic book aesthetic, like watching someone stuff their head up their own arsehole. And what about the undeniably larger superhero franchise, The Avengers. Although Iron Man has demonstrated a tendency towards a realistic adaptation, albeit with vastly complex CGI sequences, The Avengers has no problem featuring demi-gods, aliens, and magic cubes. Whilst DC Comics are certainly rife with awkward science fiction and camp fantasy, Nolan has omitted these elements from his interpretation. And yet The Avengers received a similar level of critical reception to TDKR and even sold more tickets. I am not condoning one form of filmmaking or storytelling over the other as audiences are clearly receptive to both styles. I am merely stating that while Nolan has produced incredible work that will no doubt have great influence on the genre, it does not seem to be the case that he has permanently altered or influenced all (or even a few) superhero adaptations. It might be sometime before we see another The Dark Knight…

[caption id="attachment_2541" align="aligncenter" width="580"] Young Superman is having a casual day.[/caption]

What Is There to Come

…and with that in mind, here’s Man of Steel. Alright, so there’s not even a minute of actual footage, but this film has suddenly got my attention. In contrast to everything I just said, it certainly seems that Warner Bros. are trying to recreate Superman in a similar vein to Nolan’s Batman. Note the unabashed emphasis on Nolan in the trailer. AND THAT SUPERMAN WON’T HAVE HIS RED PANTS! I am starting to see a no-pants-equals-more-scowling pattern here. This could be a cheap marketing campaign to build anticipation for a Nolan-esque interpretation, and for all we know Superman could end up impaling General Zod with the Statue of Liberty then butt-fucking Ryan Reynolds’ Green Lantern, which honestly wouldn’t surprise me too much considering it’s directed by Zack Snyder (sorry Snyder, I loved Watchmen but Sucker Punch was a like being fucked in the eyes by sweaty Tomb Raider fanboys). But if they finally manage to wheel out a decent Superman flick, then no doubt a sequel and the Justice League won’t be far behind them. They’ll only have to compete with Iron Man 3, Captain America 2, Thor 2, Ant-Man, The Avengers 2, X-Men: First Class 2, The Wolverine, and The Amazing Spider-Man 2&3. Whilst I’m all for this nebulous fuckload of cross-overs, I think it’s safe to say that DC will try to copy Marvel’s success rather than that of a trilogy that has officially ended. It will be interesting to see how the next generation of superhero blockbusters remember Nolan’s distinctly guttural Batman.