And thus the final piece of the Avengers puzzle slides neatly into place. Possibly the least anticipated Marvel adap of the lot (at least on this side of the pond), all director Joe Johnston had to do was simply not mess up the Steve Rogers/Captain America origins story, thereby paving the way for the mouthwatering prospect of the Marvel Universe mash-up that is the forthcoming Avengers movie. Based on those relatively low bar criteria, it’s easy to see why Johnston - a solid if not spectacular set of hands judging by his work on films like Jurassic Park 3 and Jumanji - was given the reins on this historically pivotal but commercially unanticipated film. What is more surprising is that he’s actually taken one of the cheesier prospects in the Marvel canon and elevated it - just a little - into something that should play well at home and abroad.
He’s helped by pitch perfect casting - Chris Evans (no, not that one) was made to play the Cap’n. He shifts believably from the creepily effective 100lb weakling rejected from the army, to the drool inducingly buff all American hero. The film even dares to poke fun at its brash comic origins, as Steve Rogers’ costume is mercilessly mocked by fed up troops during his initial morale boosting tour. Brit Hayley Atwell is also a welcome foil to Evans’ little guy in a hero’s body: smart, savvy and effortlessly radiating forties sex appeal (i.e. there’s not even a single gratuitous shin on display). In fact, while Atwell’s screen time is limited, this is arguably one of the better roles for women in this year’s testosterone soaked summer. In fact, that is one lesson to be taken from the recent torrent of Avenger-related adaps - while underwritten in the movies themselves, it’s telling that the female characters that pop up in the Avengers are genuine intellectuals - scientists, warriors and, um, personal assistants. Compare and contrast this to the pseudo intellectual bimbettes that turn up in the vast majority of action movies who are better at dangling prettily in precarious situations than thinking despite their nominally impressive fictional CVs (yes, I mean you Rosie Huntington-Whiteley).
The real star of the show is the flawless look of the film. Johnston and his crew have worked minor miracles, creating a steampunk inspired wartime utilitarianism where pulsar weapons and proto stealth fighter jets don’t look out of place alongside WW2 tanks. Allegedly inspired by the Indiana Jones movies, the look is fabulously forties in an appropriately austere way, and seamlessly integrated throughout, enhancing a welcome air of retro Saturday afternoon boy’s own adventure that is sadly lacking in most recent, post-post-post ironic superhero adaptations.
All in all, it’s a solid effort, but while often very good, it’s never really in danger of straying into ‘great’. In part, this is the result of circumstance - most origin movies are by definition shallow and under developed as they try and garner enough critical and commercial success to set up a franchise. And here, even the promising chemistry between the characters is undermined by inadequate screen time - the film-makers’ almost acknowledge as much by relying on a newsreel style montage of the Captain America’s front line heroics in order to fill in some of his backstory. By the same token, this adaptation is stuck with having to untangle the historical snafus caused by re-awakening Captain America a full 70 years after the war.
On the other hand, some flaws are definitely self inflicted - none more so than the unnecessary distraction of Hugo Weaving and Toby Jones’ itinerant ‘German’ accents. While they excel at playing Nazis so evil they flirt with outright parody, it’s hard to concentrate on their villainy when their accents are slipping and sliding through what can only be hitherto uncharted territory given how much I struggled to recognise some of them.
One final, admittedly peevish, point: I’m increasingly fed up with sitting through credits that now rival War & Peace in terms of length, just in order to enjoy the fleeting post credit teasers, which used to be served up after a couple of minutes once upon a time. Happily and (definitive proof that a summer of Marvel movies has turned me into a fanboy) Captain does at least deviate from the norm, opting for a first, brief, epilepsy inducing trailer montage of the piece de resistance that is next year’s Avengers movie (May 2012 if you’re interested or haven’t got the bladder control to sit through a two hour movie AND the credits).
On the one hand, I’m disappointed that Chris Evan’s success as Captain America effectively vetoes his return as The Human Torch (and think what you like about the Fantastic Four movies, but Evans’ cocksure jackass was definitely more of a pro than a con). The relentless drive towards setting up the modern day Avengers movie also means that without some laughably implausible plotting, or unduly laboured prequel/sequels, there won’t be any more WW2 hi-jinks for Steve Rogers and his band of brothers.
Still, Johnston’s film is a surprisingly good scene setter. However, it’s thanks to Marvel’s willingness to gamble on the unusual suspects - from Jon Favreau on Iron Man to Brannagh in this year’s Thor - not to mention their singular focus on pulling together the Avengers movie that I’m already gagging to pitch my tent outside the nearest multiplex in order to get my hands on Avengers tickets. And I hate camping.
Bravo.
