The Incredible Hulk is one of the odder “reboots” in recent films. Five years after The Hulk, the comic book cash cow shows no sign of slowing down for the summer blockbuster machine, and Marvel has drawn from that well better than anyone. It makes sense to have the Hulk, one of the most recognizable of the Marvel universe characters, in play during this boon season. And the impression of the 2003 film depends greatly on who you talk to. At the time, Ang Lee had convinced the US of his action chops as a director with the remarkable Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (the more controversial Brokeback Mountain was still to come). His approach to the film was fascinating, seeking to convey visually the look and feel of a comic book through the use of panels. While the visual experience was to my mind largely successful, the story left many tepid. In lieu of a broad summer action film, Lee sought to layer the film with a deeper theme of father relationships as a way of exploring Hulk’s origin.
Along comes The Incredible Hulk. Lee is replaced with Louis Leterrier, unknown to any except fans of The Transporter 2 (both of them). Eric Bana is replaced by Ed Norton (a worthy upgrade), and Jennifer Connelly is replaced with Liv Tyler (a small downgrade). The film joins Bruce Banner in South America, where the last film left him, so while they don’t deny that the last film took place, they disconnect you from it enough that they don’t invite tight comparisons.
The Hulk is a tough character to pull off, especially within the rules of the summer movies. It’s hard to describe him as a hero, the beast full of rage with an uncontrollable bent on destruction. The first film captured that, dealing more with Banner’s creation of the monster and his failed attempts to control it. This film picks up on that last theme, as we find Banner fighting to live an anonymous life, thus below the radar of the US military that is hunting him down, fighting to control the rage that unleashed the monster, and searching as much as he can for some kind of cure. These are complicated goals, and despite his acumen at managing his life, it’s clear from the beginning that it’s doomed to fail.
And it does. The military finds out about him through a little mistake, and General Ross, now with William Hurt for Sam Elliott, unleashes his military machine to find him. The ensuing panic convinces Banner that it is time to head back to the US, and to pursue in earnest a cure that he has been chasing with the help of a New York scientist.
To get there, he winds up bringing Betty back into the picture. The love of his life, she seems to have moved on, but quickly abandons that life when she gets to spend time with him. As they spend time together, it quickly becomes fully apparent to her just how much of a beast he’s trying to deal with.
It’s at this point that the film starts to turn, and I think for the first time in these two films starts to position this character for a longer life in film. The way they have spun his origin, the Hulk is a product of Banner’s arrogance in his scientific pursuit, and his pent-up anger. It is a monster, and Banner’s passion is to cure himself. Through Betty, he starts to realize that the monster is in fact a part of him, and that while a cure may be preferred, the challenge that may be more realistically before him is to harness this beast and use him for good.
I’m not enough of a Hulk historian to speak to these dimensions in the comic book, but it strikes me that this concept, constructing Hulk as a kind of tragic anti-hero, makes for some interesting storytelling. To the extent that he emerges in coming films as a hero, it offers an interesting dimension to these stories, as his heroics must always be tempered by a viable ability to be consumed by the rage that creates his heroism.
The Marvel characters explore many similar themes. Many of these heroes emerge from accidents that came from arrogant science or through the overreaching of power. While Spiderman reminded us that “With great power comes great responsibility,” for characters like Hulk, that power emerges from their own failings as people. It strikes me as an odd thing that the multi-billion dollar comic book movie industry keeps coming back to the theme of humility, but it does in its own way. These films see passions become obsessions, government desire for order turn to government desire for control, and unresolved anger become a kind of madness. In all, there is a positing that heroism emerges in the midst of flaws, and as much through harnessing of those flaws than in defeating them.
The Incredible Hulk is a good, if not great movie, that is a victim of bad timing by being released around the far superior Iron Man (and hopefully, far superior Dark Knight). Still, despite Ed Norton’s apparent objections to the final cut (I'd love to see his version), they have positioned the character to find its way into the larger Marvel film universe, including an apparently forthcoming Avengers movie. I’m glad their keeping him around, if for not other reason than to see how honestly they maintain these tensions in the midst of this character’s emerging heroism.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: A Review
Raiders of the Lost Ark may serve as one of the greatest, meaningless films ever. I mean, sure, I could try to pontificate about some of the deeper meaning of the film, about its view of heroism and humility before the mysteries of the world, but it wouldn’t take me long to get past where I think the creative voices wanted us to go. Raiders wanted to give a nod to the experience of the Saturday matinee, the serials that caught the eye of George Lucas and so many other children in their day. It was about the spirit of adventure and wonder more than anything else, and was meant to keep us glued to the seats and coming back for more. In the course of doing this, of course, it propelled Harrison Ford on to superstar status, giving him two signature characters (couldn’t escape without a Star Wars reference, could we?) that in many ways defined masculinity for a culture.
While the two sequels almost by necessity couldn’t reach Raiders’ level, they nonetheless kept the mystique alive. But how do you return to this mythology after two decades? Filmmaking has definitely changed. Special effects are now computer-driven. Lucas demonstrated through three films that he lost some knack for dialogue, Spielberg got serious and respectable, and Ford either gave up on acting or at least on finding good scripts. Can these three come together and make it work again?
Well, opinions are divided, but for me, they largely succeed. These guys ask us to make a big leap for this one, and some don’t seem to be able to make it. No longer are we giving a nod to the serials of the ’30’s and ’40’s, full of Nazis and jungle adventures in exotic locations. Instead, they shift their attention to the Saturday matinee of the 1950’s. The Nazis are replaced by communists, and the real mysteries are alien in nature. Hence, we open in Roswell, New Mexico, and pursue an object that is not of this world.
Indiana Jones with aliens and poodle skirts? I admit, it took me a bit to make the leap, but once I did, the film delivers a satisfying nod to its past. The character has aged as much as the actor, and after we are immediately reminded of his action chops (a great choice for an opening act), we catch up with his life. He’s lost his friend Marcus, he’s lost his father, and we find the swagger diminished somewhat, as he seems to be mostly sad at the loss around him in his life. Still, his sadness doesn’t keep him from getting caught up in this adventure. He meets Mutt Williams (rotten name, there), a greaser kid with attitude, who asks Indy to help him find his mother.
The details of the search are secondary to the energy of the chase. I expect many will need a couple of viewings to actually figure out what he’s after and why. But we know with certainty that everybody is after this thing, and everybody in Indiana’s life, including Indy himself, are threatened because of it. Their adventure takes us from New Mexico, to the streets of a university town, to the jungles of South America (yes, we get to go back to the jungle). In the course of the adventure, he reconnects with Marion, a great nod to Raiders. While the chemistry of their relationships is pretty muted in comparison, it was still great to see the connection drawn.
The character of Indiana Jones was never a clean-cut hero. He was a non-committal womanizer, whose passion for adventure got him into trouble as much as it kept him out of it. This time, the film revisits the power of family, echoing themes explored in The Last Crusade. Moving away from the rugged cowboy from the first film, he finds himself drawing people around him, and wanting it. For all the rugged individualism that the character of Indiana Jones represents in our culture, his later films, including this one, are more a celebration of friendship, family, and the power of connection.
Still, at the heart of Indiana Jones is the adventure. Even as he ages, and the gruffness of his character reflects his age, he is still a character that has seen the wonders of this world and still both marvels and respects them. It’s Spielberg’s strength, a strength that made him a rich man long before he got respect. Whether it is the jungle adventurer, or a little alien friend, or the clone dinosaurs, he invites to the theater to marvel. That this sense of wonder is embodied by a 60-year old with more loss than gain in life is simply a reminder that, for all of the marketing power of teenagers in the film market, this desire, even need, for wonder is ultimately ageless.
Glad to have you back, Indy. It’s been too long.
While the two sequels almost by necessity couldn’t reach Raiders’ level, they nonetheless kept the mystique alive. But how do you return to this mythology after two decades? Filmmaking has definitely changed. Special effects are now computer-driven. Lucas demonstrated through three films that he lost some knack for dialogue, Spielberg got serious and respectable, and Ford either gave up on acting or at least on finding good scripts. Can these three come together and make it work again?
Well, opinions are divided, but for me, they largely succeed. These guys ask us to make a big leap for this one, and some don’t seem to be able to make it. No longer are we giving a nod to the serials of the ’30’s and ’40’s, full of Nazis and jungle adventures in exotic locations. Instead, they shift their attention to the Saturday matinee of the 1950’s. The Nazis are replaced by communists, and the real mysteries are alien in nature. Hence, we open in Roswell, New Mexico, and pursue an object that is not of this world.
Indiana Jones with aliens and poodle skirts? I admit, it took me a bit to make the leap, but once I did, the film delivers a satisfying nod to its past. The character has aged as much as the actor, and after we are immediately reminded of his action chops (a great choice for an opening act), we catch up with his life. He’s lost his friend Marcus, he’s lost his father, and we find the swagger diminished somewhat, as he seems to be mostly sad at the loss around him in his life. Still, his sadness doesn’t keep him from getting caught up in this adventure. He meets Mutt Williams (rotten name, there), a greaser kid with attitude, who asks Indy to help him find his mother.
The details of the search are secondary to the energy of the chase. I expect many will need a couple of viewings to actually figure out what he’s after and why. But we know with certainty that everybody is after this thing, and everybody in Indiana’s life, including Indy himself, are threatened because of it. Their adventure takes us from New Mexico, to the streets of a university town, to the jungles of South America (yes, we get to go back to the jungle). In the course of the adventure, he reconnects with Marion, a great nod to Raiders. While the chemistry of their relationships is pretty muted in comparison, it was still great to see the connection drawn.
The character of Indiana Jones was never a clean-cut hero. He was a non-committal womanizer, whose passion for adventure got him into trouble as much as it kept him out of it. This time, the film revisits the power of family, echoing themes explored in The Last Crusade. Moving away from the rugged cowboy from the first film, he finds himself drawing people around him, and wanting it. For all the rugged individualism that the character of Indiana Jones represents in our culture, his later films, including this one, are more a celebration of friendship, family, and the power of connection.
Still, at the heart of Indiana Jones is the adventure. Even as he ages, and the gruffness of his character reflects his age, he is still a character that has seen the wonders of this world and still both marvels and respects them. It’s Spielberg’s strength, a strength that made him a rich man long before he got respect. Whether it is the jungle adventurer, or a little alien friend, or the clone dinosaurs, he invites to the theater to marvel. That this sense of wonder is embodied by a 60-year old with more loss than gain in life is simply a reminder that, for all of the marketing power of teenagers in the film market, this desire, even need, for wonder is ultimately ageless.
Glad to have you back, Indy. It’s been too long.
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