MY POINT-FIVE-PAST-LIGHTSPEED JOURNEY TO STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS (NO SPOILERS)

How it all began.

A long time ago, in a town far, far away…  I can’t remember how old I was when that Star Destroyer first flew overhead, blocking out the sky – maybe five or six? I know that I saw Star Wars on ITV, that I was too young to see Empire at the cinema, or had completely missed it by the time I saw the first one. I saw Jedi at the cinema, but it would be another year, maybe two before I saw Empire. Much of my childhood was spent obsessed with everything Star Wars. I had a healthy collection of figures and ships, none of which I have now, for reasons of ill-advised putting away of childish things, or even more ill-advised experiments in inflicting realistic-looking battle damage, following a dire convergence of circumstances involving a scorching hot day, a magnifying glass and poor, poor Zuckus.

When I first met my now-wife, I took her to an all-day marathon of the original trilogy, as she’d never seen any of them. With hindsight, I’m not sure what my motivations were – wanting her to share one of my passions, or a test to see if my suspicious fondness for Wookiees would send her backing slowly out of the room. Luckily for me, she stuck around, though it’s fair to say she tolerates rather than shares my affinity for all things in that galaxy far, far away. However, our daughter is very much a fan. I can’t begin to imagine how that happened.

The arrival of the prequels, however, began to change everything. People make comparisons now between the hype and weight of expectations for The Force Awakens and what we saw back in 1998–99 for The Phantom Menace. I can only assume I was as excited as everyone else, but I remember nothing about this time – the much-vaunted trailer, the marketing, going to see the film itself, what I thought of it. The whole experience has been wiped away. It’s as if my mind cried out in pain and was suddenly silenced. I remember thinking that Attack of the Clones was, at least, an improvement (though that’s less certain with hindsight), and I remember going in to Revenge of the Sith with a sense of grim obligation, only to be (slightly) pleasantly surprised – at least until the notorious ‘Noooooooo!’

From http://www.deviantart.com/art/Darth-Vader-Brand-Nooooooo-s-Cereal-Tshirt-Design-367971806

I still can't quite believe that made it to the final film. Fuck’s sake, George. 

Having recently revisited the prequels with my daughter, they’re not all bad. They have their moments. But these are few and far between. I find them turgid, humourless, confused, unmemorable affairs, with no appealing characters, questionable, wooden performances, empty spectacle and a sickly synthetic sheen courtesy of over-reliance on the not-fully developed CGI of the era. One of the things that’s great about the original trilogy is that all of the main cast, but especially Han, seem like ordinary people in an extraordinary environment. There’s nothing to ground the prequels. Everybody, with the possible exception of Ewan McGregor, is a dead-eyed sci-fantasy cipher.

The prequels left me bruised, dejected, hoping that would be an end to it. There would always be the originals, of course, but there was clearly no need for any more. The announcement of The Force Awakens, then, led to many conflicting feelings. A new, young cast of nigh-unknowns combined with some icons from the original trilogy, a new director, no George Lucas… all of these could be either promising signs or portents of doom. The trailers looked great, but as others repeatedly mentioned, this is exactly what happened with The Phantom Menace. I tried my hardest to remain cautiously optimistic while reining in my enthusiasm. Right up until last night. Right up until this.

Until Jimmy Fallon, the Roots and the cast performed an a cappella medley of Star Wars themes. That was it. Defences broken down. I was all in. A few hours later, I found myself in a pub full of bearded men in Millennium Falcon and Stormtrooper T-shirts (and my friend Martin in full Emperor (bath)robe), awaiting the midnight screening. It was actually happening.

It didn’t disappoint. Far from it.

I will avoid spoilers, for there are many things to spoil, but The Force Awakens is both a fantastically entertaining film in its own right, and a symbolic passing of the torch between generations. Much of the speculation and hype has focused on the presence of the old guard, but in truth it’s the new kids – Oscar Isaac, John Boyega, Adam Driver and, especially, Daisy Ridley – who are the backbone of this film. It’s an expansion of the original trilogy, building on its elements, establishing new aspects of the mythology and moving forward. And, crucially, it’s built on character, on ordinary people in an extraordinary environment. Finn and Rey are our point-of-view characters, everypeople thrust into a world they – and we – don’t fully understand. They’re immensely likeable, compelling, funny and have a real chemistry between them. But fans of the original cast (and who isn’t?) won’t be disappointed either. Speaking as a massive Chewbacca fan, who feels the character has been somewhat under-utilised in the past, this film made my furry heart gronk furiously with joy. 

From Chewbacca #1 by Phil Noto

There are criticisms to be made, though. In trying to balance the old and the new, JJ Abrams occasionally tips a little too far into the nostalgic side of things. A few moments amount to little more than ‘Hey! Remember this minor detail?’ and come across as cheap, and there are some concepts and sequences that are needlessly recycled when a new vision may have been more desirable. Part of this, of course, may be the fact that events in the Star Wars universe are cyclical, as we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again. Part of it is, as mentioned, a passing of the torch. This is a bridge between old and new, but the former doesn’t overshadow the latter.

To illustrate this point… it was notable that there were several spontaneous rounds of applause throughout the film. I understand that American audiences can often be a bit more audible in their appreciation of movies, but we Britishers are largely reticent. Applause just simply does not happen at a film, so this was remarkable in itself. And there were multiple nostalgia-fuelled outbursts here – for the crawl, the first appearance of the Falcon, of Han & Chewie, of Leia, C-3PO… But the biggest, most enthusiastic one was reserved for an unbelievably wonderful, heart-stopping, lump-in-throat, fuck-yeah moment for Rey, for Daisy Ridley. It was extremely telling. She’s our hero. In two days’ time, when I see it again with my family, I’m pretty confident she’ll be my daughter’s hero too. 

Torch passed.

DRESSING LIKE A SIX-FOOT PARROT IS HARDLY INCONSPICUOUS

IMPORTANT PREAMBLE: This blog was originally written for the Big Glasgow Comic Page, and was the last of my columns for that august institution. I originally rewrote it to omit all the references to goodbye, sayonara and such, but to be honest it slightly ripped the heart out of it. I'm a sentimental old geek, so I've left all the teary farewells in. They do not, however, mean that this is the final post on this blog. Unless I just can't be arsed to do any more. Which is possible. 

Good morning squishy carbon-based fleshbags and superior silicon sentients. It is with a weary, heavy and gin-pickled heart that I bid you welcome to the final BARGAIN BASEMENT OF DOOOOOM. Sadly, I have received my draft papers and must spend six years as a minion-slash-henchman-slash-cannon fodder in the private army of a sixth-rate supervillain (please send all correspondence c/o Dr Demonicus). As such, I must reluctantly take my leave from the BGCP family, but I for one eagerly anticipate my exciting new life of servitude, mortal danger and daily personal diminishment.

I could have been one of Dr Doom's goons, but noooo.

This being the last BBoD post, I’m all demob-happy and drunk on love, so I’m going to indulge myself all up in your face with a whole bunch of Alan Davis goodness, in the form of THE CLANDESTINE. It’s no secret that Davis ranks pretty bloody highly in my all-time pantheon of favourite comics artists – in fact, six days out of seven, I’d probably give him the top spot. Yet, back when I was a nipper, I never liked his early work on Excalibur and New Mutants, and would even deride it as ‘cartoony’. What a silly, silly and devilishly handsome young man I was back then. Having since acquired a taste for his work, I’ve graduated to a full-on obsessive, amassing almost everything in his back catalogue, and slavishly buying anything on which he daubs a curve.

While he’s rightly celebrated for his sumptuous work on high-profile titles such as JLA: The Nail, X-Men, Fantastic Four: The End and Avengers Prime, his lesser-known scribblings are equally worthy of laudation. Both penned and pencilled by Davis, with support from legendary inky soulmate Mark Farmer and colours by Sophie Heath and Helen Nally, the occasionally definitely-articled ClanDestine first ran for 12 issues from 1994–1995. The series begins in stereotypical fashion, with a couple of naïve young costumed heroes – Crimson Crusader and Imp – interrupting a warehouse robbery. It turns out they are twins, Rory and Pandora Destine, keen to conceal their covert nocturnal superosity from their strict uncle, Walter. However, their actions this night have unforeseen ramifications – and when strange, semi-human creatures attack their family home looking for a whoozit or a whatzit called the Gryphon, it’s more than just the twins’ secret that comes to light. Before their eyes, Uncle Walter (a romance novelist by day) transforms into a giant, oddly proportioned, blue Hulk-like creature with flaming hair. 

His own dark secret revealed, Walter decides the time has come to tell the twins the truth about their extended family. Those people the kids thought were their aunties, uncles and grandparents are nothing of the sort, but are in truth their siblings – some of whom are hundreds of years old, all of whom have superhuman powers. They are all the children of Adam, an 800+-year-old indestructible Adonis, who we first encounter sitting in a hippified VW camper van in deep space, having a little chat with a slightly confused Silver Surfer.

 

Like many families, the Destines have drifted apart over the years, something actively encouraged via their Relative Stranger Protocol. Fearing exposure, the family have nurtured their estrangement, taken on new periodic identities to hide their longevity, and vowed to use their powers covertly, subtly, and only for personal gain. Now, however, someone has started to track down and kill the family members, sparking a chain of events that brings these oddballs reluctantly back into each other’s company for the first time in decades, if not centuries. Aside from Adam, Rory, Pandora and Walt, we meet, among others, Sam – a stern, aloof warrior woman capable of forming metallic armour and weapons; Kay – a vastly powerful body-hopping psychic with a hedonistic streak and questionable ethics; Newton – a super-genius inventor with more than a passing resemblance to Woody Allen, who spends much of his time on an alien world playing emperor-warlord in a genetically engineered Conan-esque second body; and Dom – a harlequinesque acrobat and stage magician whose Daredevil-dwarfing hyper-senses force him to live in seclusion.

It’s an extremely enjoyable book, fun but not flippant, vividly colourful and full of big concepts, family drama and askew ideas, with a very British sensibility. Rory and Pandora are the point-of-view characters, and it’s their – or, more accurately, Rory’s – youthful aspiration of becoming a superhero that places them at odds with the family’s survival tactic of remaining hidden. This clash between idealism and pragmatism is the catalyst for a series of events that imperil the family, threaten their exposure (and, indeed, survival), and cause them to question their status quo. Adam in particular, immortal and invulnerable, barely even capable of feeling anything at all, a father who has spent most of his youngest children’s lives sitting in a camper van on an asteroid several light years away, begins to reassess their purpose. Nonetheless, it is stressed, over and over again, that these are not superheroes, despite their powers. 

Indeed, they’re not particularly competent or heroic when they try to operate in the manner of yer traditional Marvel heroes. Dom finds himself knocked into ecstatic senselessness at an inopportune moment by the taste of chocolate; Kay alters a man’s memories to illegally inherit a fortune; Walter has anger-management issues and difficulty returning to human form. Rory fantasises about saving the Avengers, but more often than not the day is saved by others – by Spider-Man, by the Punisher, by Doctor Strange, by the last-minute return of the family patriarch. In fact, Adam’s climactic confrontation with the big villain in #4 is one of my favourite ‘fight’ scenes in comics – stoic, peaceful, understanding and utterly invulnerable, he simply refuses to engage in combat and then offers his foe the opportunity to leave. The way Davis draws Adam in this scene – serene, compassionate, strong, but also alien in his distance from the frailty of humanity – is masterful.

Naturally, Davis and Farmer’s artwork is arse-smackingly good throughout their run on the title. Clean, fluid and traditional in terms of form and style, but hugely inventive in terms of layout and angles, brilliantly expressive depictions of character, and wildly explosive and visceral when it comes to action, this is a great example of why I rate Davis so highly. Alas, he and Farmer left the title after #8, and the remaining four issues are completely forgettable, conveying none of the distinctive character of the book, despite new penciller Pino Rinaldi’s stilted attempts to ape Davis’s style.

Still, ClanDestine is very much Davis’s baby, and he has returned to these characters again a few occasions: in a ClanDestine/X-Men mini-series (which rightly but snarkily retconned the non-Davis issues of the original series as a dream), a further five-issue mini series in 2008 and a story that ran through three Davis-penned and-outrageously-beautifully-pencilled 2010 annuals (Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Wolverine). However, this mythos has never really caught on in the way the Davis clearly hoped it would. My theory as to why is this – in a world full of stretchy people, big green man-monsters, gods incarnate, shiny aliens, living robots and fuzzy blue mutants who smell like bum gas, the notion of a super-powered family is just not that outré. The whole point of the Destine clan is their clandestine nature (I see what they did there!), but that only really makes sense if they’re the only ones of their kind. My feeling is that these stories would have much more impact in their own universe (perhaps à la Jupiter’s Legacy), but are less well served by being woven into the wider Marvel continuity. This may have lessened ClanDestine’s appeal to casual readers, but makes these issues no less fun or gripping – or gorgeously illustrated.

Right, that’s your lot. Six months, 20 columns and more than 20,000 words later, I’m outta here. It’s been a pleasure being a part of the BGCP family, who have indulged my ramblings week on week. My apologies for never quite getting round to the other titles on my list: Firestorm, Green Lantern: Mosaic, Captain Atom, Peter David’s original X-Factor run, Hourman, The Ray, All Star-Squadron, HATE, the first couple of dozen issues of Justice League Europe, John Byrne’s run on West Coast Avengers, Dragon’s Claws, Secret Society of Super-Villains, Dork!, L.E.G.I.O.N, etc., etc.… But if you never have, you should definitely check out these titles. Because they’re cool. Because comics are cool. Never forget.

NO IMPOSSIBLE MAN = NO CREDIBILITY

Right, so I went to see Josh Trank’s Fantastic Four tonight. It’s possible that you might have heard about it. You know, the film that got the lowest-ever score on Rotten Tomatoes? The film that’s the worst abomination cinema has ever known? The film that’s an affront to everything that’s good and right in the world? Why are we just sitting here gabbing when we could be tarring and feathering Josh Trank? THE MAN’S A MONSTER.

OK, stop. No. You've had your fun. Can we maybe, perhaps, stop being so hysterical about this thing? No, it’s not the best comic-book movie ever made. But you know what? It’s pretty far from the worst. Here are just a few shittier comic-book movies: X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Daredevil, Blade Trinity, Man-Thing. Batman Returns, Batman & Robin, Batman Forever, Superman III, Superman IV, Ghost Rider, Green Lantern. In my own personal rankings, Josh Trank’s Fantastic Four is probably on a par with Louis Leterrier’s The Incredible Hulk – which admittedly, is my least favourite MCU movie, but it’s by no means abominable (see what I did there?).

Some context first. Being primarily a lifelong X-Men fan, I’ve had a long time to get used to the idea that movies and comics are very different things. The first X-Men film offered only the merest of glimpses of my personal vision of Marvel’s Merry Mutants – and while I loved it anyway, it wasn’t without a certain amount of internal conflict about all the things they got completely wrong (i.e. changed for cinema). Eventually I reached the stage where I was comfortable with the idea that the cinema and comic universes were very different – complementary, perhaps, but their own entities. In many ways, the relationship between comics and cinema is much like Marvel 616 and the Ultimate Universe – the latter being a more streamlined, simplified, ‘cooler’ take on the former. It’s no coincidence that the movies have often turned to the Ultimate line for inspiration. And this latest iteration is no exception, plucking most of its story elements directly from the first couple of arcs of Ultimate Fantastic Four. The MCU also drinks deep from the Ultimate well – the most stark (excuse the pun) example being the casting of Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury, given that his likeness was appropriated for The Ultimates. 

Point being, I can happily see my comic films as parallel worlds or What Ifs?, as counterparts to the comics. I don’t require verisimilitude. The MCU and the Avengers do not, to me, feel like their comic counterparts, but I dig them both. I’m happy to take the films on their own terms, just as I take the comics in that fashion.

The one true Fantastic Four

Given all that, which is a roundabout way of saying a) this film is not very much like the 616 universe, and b) I'm not really all that concerned about that, what to make of Fantastic Four?

Taken on its own terms, it’s… well, a bit weird. The first two-thirds, a slow-burn sci-fi character study, are actually pretty compelling. The early bonding between child genius Reed Richards and best buddy from the wrong side of the tracks Ben Grimm is handled beautifully, and their bond is palpable and believable. Reed’s encounter with Franklin Storm and his induction into the interdimensional project is intriguing. And following the inevitable accident, the subsequent transformations, before our heroes learn to cope with their powers, make for some unexpectedly compelling, unsettling scenes of body horror.

But then there’s a sudden and huge leap – a ‘one year later’ leap. And it’s here where things start to unravel. Many others have mentioned this, but it really does feel like a big, generic mega-budget superhero blockbuster was awkwardly pasted onto a pretty interesting, simmering, atmospheric sci-fi flick, and the two don’t gel well at all. [Insert your own speculation here about studio interference and/or director meltdown and assign blame accordingly.] While there are some fun scenes in the latter third, the pacing becomes a desperate dash to the finish and it’s all ultimately a bit unsatisfying. What could have been an interesting, slower, quieter take on the superhero genre ends up as little more than a slightly confused prequel to some far better films that will most likely never be made.

A few closing points, good and bad.

GOOD: The Thing looks great in motion. Pants or no pants, this is by far the best rendering of live-action Benjy yet. Sometimes he feels like he could stand to have a little more weight, but he’s a sturdy presence nonetheless.

BAD: The best scenes from the trailer, of Ben being dropped from a place onto a military installation and wrecking the joint, were cut from the film at a late stage. A pretty shocking omission.

GOOD: Miles Teller carried the film as young Reed Richards, and to me inhabited the role really well. He had the awkwardness, the drive, the intense intelligence… could have used a little mania, but I liked him. In fact, all four team members were well cast, even if their interaction could have been handled better (see next point).

BAD: Before this film came out, I was confident that, whatever else happened, Trank (whose affinity for character work was well chronicled in, err, Chronicle) could relied upon to grasp what makes the FF unique – their family dynamic. But the ball was majorly dropped here. Reed & Ben were a tight lifelong partnership, and Sue & Johnny’s sibling relationship was good – tense and cool, though warming up – but as a quartet…? Reed and Sue had some extremely tentative flirting and burgeoning chemistry, but were basically work colleagues, while Johnny & Ben barely even speak to each other until the closing scene, and there's no real sense of the four as a team. Poor.

GOOD: For all the hoo-ha about Michael B. Jordan and Kate Mara playing siblings – because oh my god, how could that ever happen in real life, apart from all the ways in which it can and does happen?! – this was played nicely and not turned into a tiresome plot point. A brief mention about adoption, and that’s all (arguably, even that was unnecessary, as Franklin had already mentioned she was his daughter).

BAD: This is the big one. Dr Doom was absolutely bloody awful. No getting around it. Looked terrible. Had no presence. No menace. No aristocratic arseholeness. While, as mentioned, I don’t require faithfulness to the comic, this Dr Doom retained nothing that’s interesting about Victor aside from the name. Nothing. Not one thing. The great thing about Doom is that he is a self-made man of power, and as such considers himself superior to the misbegotten freaks of nature that are the FF. Why Trank decided to repeat the mistake of Tim Story and portray Doom as just another superpowered freak is beyond me. And worse, Doom here is no imperious, arrogant megalomaniac, but just a mopey, slobby nihilist bent on pointless destruction because… well, reasons, OK? He was essentially fruit-dehydrating maniac Eddie from Friends, covered in broken glowsticks and duct tape, with an ill-defined assortment of superpowers. Had this character simply been renamed Annihilus or the Molecule Man, it might have worked better, but this was just a colossal waste of one of comics’, nay fiction’s, most interesting characters. Crap, I tells ya. Crap! 

(Addendum: Come to think of it...he's a creepy looking techno-organic thing, has freaky cosmic powers, he's a nihilist bent on destruction, and lives in the frickin' Negative Zone. He bloody well IS Annihilus. Well, Annihilus-lite.) 

A mid-tier movie, then. Starts well, ends badly. Shit Doom. Far from perfect, but not deserving of the nigh-universal, excessive opprobrium.

THE DEFINITVE AND LEGALLY BINDING BUT NOT TECHNICALLY ENDORSED BY MARVEL STUDIOS ULTRON IS MY ELVIS MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE END OF PHASE 2 SUBJECTIVE EVALUATION REPORT AND OBLIGATORY REVERSE-NUMERICAL RANKING aka OO, LOOK, A LIST

With Ant-Man marking the end of Phase 2, it’s time to RANK ALL OF THE MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE MOVIES.

It's remarkable now to think back to how we saw the teaser scene at the end of Iron Man. Surely they're not really going to make an Avengers movie...? That would be both ridiculously ambitious and almost too exciting for words. And yet here we are, 12 movies down the line. Just as they revolutionised comics in the 1960s, Marvel have changed the face of cinema and TV, for good or ill, with big-budget superheroes dominating the summer season and interconnected universes springing up all over the place. We almost take it for granted, but it's quite a remarkable achievement for a new film studio. And what's even more remarkable is the overall quality of MCU films – I like them all, to a greater or lesser extent, some with reservations, some with unfettered adoration. Perhaps I'm shockingly easy to please when it comes to comic-book cinema, but I don't think there's a proper stinker in the bunch. Of course, the downside of this is that they've achieved this consistency by arguably being somewhat formulaic – but get around this by smartly adapting the formula to different genres (sci-fi, heist, fantasy epic, thriller). 

The exact order here could change from day to day. Nonetheless, there are three distinct tiers of goodness (1–3 are wonderful; 4–8 are great, but imperfect; 9–12 are good, but have considerable issues). 

So here goes, from worst to best...

12 THE INCREDIBLE HULK 

Actually pretty strong and engaging thanks largely to Edward Norton's portrayal of Banner, but I deem this by far Marvel’s weakest effort, purely by virtue of the nigh-unwatchable and horribly overlong final battle’s grotesque, jarring, PS2 cut-scene CGI. Plus, while Eric Bana and Mark Ruffalo are both somewhat visible in their respective emerald personas, Norton and his Hulk seem like two different entities entirely. Norton conveys the sense of the monster in the man, but we never feel the man in the monster.

11 IRON MAN 2

Nowhere near as dire as I used to think, but still a confused, meandering film with an extremely weak and unnecessary mid-section. It took several repeat viewings before I began to remember anything that happened in this film. Not a good sign. But Johansson, Rourke, Gregg and Rockwell are an excellent supporting team.

10 THOR: THE DARK WORLD

This attracted quite a lot of scorn from fans, but I actually enjoyed it quite a lot. There’s much to dig here: the full-on Asgardian sci-fi-ness, the surprisingly comedic tone, Kat Dennings, the inventive final warp battle. The major downside, of course, is the criminal waste of Christopher Eccleston as blank-cypher baddie Malekith. And the fact that Anthony Hopkins is virtually unconscious throughout.

9 IRON MAN 3 

I’m still not sure why this movie is so reviled. The Mandarin was never this interesting in the comics… What I like about IM3 is precisely the fact that Iron Man isn’t in it much. I really like broken-down Stark in Spy Kids mode. On the downside, Downey's schtick does begin to grate a little and pre-makeover Guy Pearce's geeky loser is a little on the nose. However, it has some of the best sequences in any Iron Man movie – barrel of monkeys, the beach house assault, the Mandarin reveal – plus the best final battle of the trilogy.

8 ANT-MAN 

One of the more fun MCU films. Great characters, innovative action, snappy dialogue, good comedy beats, compelling father-daughter themes, nice MCU connectivity… I particularly like the fact that although Paul Rudd was theoretically the lead, he was very much overshadowed, both in performance and in the storyline, by Evangeline Lily and Michael Douglas. It felt like their movie. It was entertaining enough that I’m willing to overlook its flaws – the ethnic stereotype sidekicks, cookie-cutter bad guy, the wildly inconsistent nature of Ant-Man’s powers, the disregard for Judy Greer, the whiff of being an Iron Man retread, etc.

7 CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER 

Lots to like about this. A well-realised Cap in Chris Evans (though for me, he only came to fully inhabit the role in subsequent films), great period setting, enjoyable shifts in tone, Hayley Atwell in general, the Howling Commandos, Hugo Weaving chewing scenery… I find the pacing a little off though. A little too slow at some points, zipping forward via montage in others. And there’s no reason (except drama dictates) for him to crash into the ice. Go for that dance, you Star-Spangled fool…!

6 THOR 

Risky and preposterous it may have been, but Branagh's Thor is vastly enjoyable. Big in scope, from cosmic realms to small-town USA, funny, engaging characters, the MCU’s best villain yet, nudie Chris Hemsworth, Kat Dennings and a Kirby-design classic realised in the bloody Destroyer. Frankly, I’m not sure why it’s not higher.

5 IRON MAN

The original, yes, but not quite the best. While Downey Jr was made for this role, and almost everything about the film is note-perfect, tightly plotted and entertaining, the final battle is something of let down after everything that came before. Ending films is hard, clearly.

4 AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON 

I still haven’t managed a second viewing of this, but I did enjoy its immense sprawl, even if it was almost too much to take in at first glance. As a large-scale spectacle, far better than the first Avengers, but not quite as pacy or tightly written, nor does it quite have the absolutely bloody perfect moments of the first. And yes, it has some inexplicable Thor-in-a-pond nonsense. But it does have Ultron. And the Vision. And the Scarlet Witch. Eagerly awaiting the DVD…

(For a more on my feelings about this movie, go here: http://ultronismyelvis.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/avengers-age-of-ultron-spoiler-free.html)

3 GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

Easily the funniest and most relentlessly entertaining of the MCU films, yet far from an empty piece of fluff. There’s a richness to the unabashed sci-fi world-building here that’s compelling and efficient. All of the main characters are fascinating and relatable in their own way, the music is great (and also a character), the visuals are just beautiful. Plus this has the best climax of any Marvel movie to date – when Quill says ‘You said it yourself, bitch– we’re the Guardians of the Galaxy’, it’s sarcastic but purposeful, triumphant but full of sadness too. Bloody masterful. Makes me want to both weep and kick down walls. If Guardians has a flaw, it’s that… come to think of it, it doesn’t. Blimey.

2 AVENGERS 

It’s difficult for me to fully express how excited I was prior to the release of Avengers. It felt like I’d been waiting almost 30 years for this film. And amazingly, it didn’t disappoint. I love pretty much everything about Avengers, start to finish, from Loki’s entrance to Natasha’s interrogation to ‘Shakespeare in the park’ and ‘I’m always angry’. Infinitely rewatchable.

1 CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER

While Winter Soldier doesn’t quite have the rewatch factor and gung-ho entertainment value of the others in the top three, it is for me the most interesting, impressive and well-made MCU film yet. Chris Evans really comes into his own here, Anthony Mackie and Scarlett Johansson are excellent in their supporting roles, the themes are big, surprisingly subversive and have real-world resonance, and the events of the movie caused a massive shift in the status quo of the MCU (at least for a while). But arguably the biggest star is the action – this film features some of the best, most exquisitely choreographed fight scenes outside of The Raid, Ong-Bak or Enter the Dragon. A big 70s conspiracy thriller mixed with dystopian sci-fi and bone-breaking martial arts brilliance? Count me in.

THE HAND-JIVE OF DOOM

Our semi-regular geek cinema group watched the Corman FF film last night. And it's... certainly a film.

And whaddya know, the following morning the wonderful Fantasticast released their very own commentary episode (which I haven't heard yet, but I'm sure it's a blast...).

Made over a wet weekend in 1992 for roughly the price of a round down the Lamb & Flag (minus the Scampi Fries), Fantastic Four was rushed into being by producer Bernd Eichinger because his rights to the property were about to expire. Opinion varies as to whether he ever intended to release this thing (no pun intended), but certainly the cast and crew thought this was destined for a cinema release. Alas – or mercifully – it was pulled in advance of the premiere, and sealed in that massive warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark. For years only available on bootlegs from comic fairs, the film finally blossomed into being in the age of the internet, not quite gaining a cult following along the way.

On virtually all levels, it's a stinker. Painfully cheap, poorly thrown together, an ill-fitting mish-mash of styles, including some blatant homages to Burton's Batman films, cinematography that's questionable at best, poor action, shonky special effects, deeply unflattering costumes, dubious acting and a horrible '80s sheen all over everything.

OK guys, in this scene you're being tortured.
Look orgasmic, disgusted or bored. Up to you.

And yet... it's actually remarkably enjoyable. Not even necessarily in a so-bad-it's-good-way, either. The circumstances of its genesis mean you're willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. So what if Johnny Storm turns into a cartoon when he finally flames on? So what if the Thing looks like a gorilla made of sofa stuffing and his mouth is out of sync with his dialogue? So what if Dr Doom compensates for his face being hidden behind a mask by wildly overacting with his fingers? So what if Reed's powers are reduced to effectively duct-taping a glove to the end of a broomstick?

Reed Richards: godfather of the finglonger. 

There's an honesty and purity of intention that shines through the awfulness – you can sort of, if you squint, see what Corman and his crew were trying to do, but had neither the time nor the money (or possibly the talent) to even approximate it. True, some of it is just awful – e.g. the whole Jeweller character/side plot is abysmal – but there's some genuinely great stuff, too. In particular, every time Doom is on screen is a real treat, hand jive notwithstanding.

FOOLS!

The reason we watched this, of course, was as a precursor to Josh Trank's upcoming Fantastic Four. This film has, of course, been much reviled by geek communities throughout the multiverse. I'm still cautiously looking forward to this. While my excitement level for this movie is more of a simmer than a boil, the trailers have certainly not repulsed me in the way they have seemingly everyone else in the whole world. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The constant cries of 'It's nothing like the comics!' seem odd when it's clearly based heavily on the ultimate version of the team (the same universe that makes its influence felt pretty heavily in the MCU and the Fox X-Men films, incidentally). It's not that it isn't based on the comics, it's just based on comics that perhaps aren't the most fondly remembered by some fans. And that includes me – 'my' FF is Kirby/Lee, Byrne and Hickman, but I'm still interested in this take.

Another common criticism is that the FF is inherently goofy and wacky, and that Trank's 'gritty' take will be a massive departure from that. Putting aside the fact that it doesn't look that gritty to my eyes, I think this argument does the FF a disservice. The FF are an extremely mutable concept, able to handle all kinds of moods and modes. And the stories that made me connect with them as a kid were certainly not goofy, but pretty damn dark – in particular, Byrne's Psycho-Man/Hate-Monger/Malice saga was pretty disturbing to me. Fantastic Four, after all, is a book in which Doctor Doom at one point makes armour out of the skin of his dead lover.

The goofiness! 

What enables the FF to handle all kinds of stories is that they are a family. This is my big concern with Trank's movie. If he can get the interpersonal dynamics right, everything else will fall into place. If not, the whole thing will collapse. It's far too soon to say either way, but his work on Chronicle shows that he's very much character-driven.

Plus, my daughter is absolutely thrilled by the trailers and very excited to see it – which did provide a moment of horrifying clarity that perhaps the people making comic-book movies are not thinking primarily about 40-year-old obsessive geeks who get all upset if Alicia Masters wears the wrong type of cardigan, but are trying to take these characters to a new audience, a new generation.

Having said all that, reviews of the movie have been embargoed until the night of release, which probably means it's a sack of shite. We shall see.

HOW THE JLI CURED A CHRONIC CASE OF MARVEL ZOMBIFICATION

The fog of memory has somewhat obscured my first exposure to American comics, but I know that Marvel was my first love – it was either a handful of Avengers, Iron Man and Ghost Rider issues from a jumble sale; the first issue of Mighty World of Marvel (a UK reprint title, the first issue of which began X-Men’s Days of Future Past storyline); or #2 of the UK Secret Wars reprints.

[insert wibbly-wobbly flashback effect here]

Back then, mid-to-late ’80s, pre-internet, there was an insular tribalism to comics fans (totally unlike today’s open-minded fans, of course). I was Marvel. All my comic-reading friends were Marvel. The only people who liked DC were… well, a complete mystery to us. Marvel was inherently and self-evidently cool. Marvel was misunderstood loners, outcasts, outlaws, boozing, brawling demigods and haughty, ankle-winged fish-men. To us, DC was a combination of both dull and silly – stoic, barrel-chested, moralising paragons of virtue, who could lift planets or had magic rings and lassos or could run faster than light, engaged in childishly simple battles of good vs. evil. It was a whole ’nother world, one that in our youthful ignorance we mocked from afar without knowing a bloody thing about it. We were well into comics when Crisis happened. When Byrne’s Man of Steel dropped. When Perez launched Wonder Woman. When Vertigo began. But we never even noticed. Who could be enticed to cross the ultramenstruum when there were Claremont’s X-Men, Byrne’s FF and Stern’s Avengers to read? The only DC title to sneak under our radar was The Dark Knight Returns – one copy passed around the school, almost illicitly, like erotica found stashed in a thicket. Apart from that, it was all Marvel, all the time.

Until the ’90s. While not as comprehensively disastrous as their reputation would have you believe, these years were as unkind to Marvel comics as the ’80s were to jazz. My beloved X-Men in particular were badly hit. Things started to unravel around Inferno, but following the departure of Chris Claremont, after 17 years on the title, three issues into the new adjectiveless series, the title went into a horrible, disastrous tailspin of poor writing, macho posturing, godawful XTREME art and charmless crap. I stopped buying X-Men. I stopped buying Marvel. I stopped buying comics completely.

Unglaublich. 

But the urge never quite leaves, does it? And one day I found myself in our small-town comic shop. Well, not even a comic shop. Largely a roleplaying/wargaming shop with two or three longboxes of back issues tucked away in a corner. But you take what you can get. The owner was a lovely guy, a good friend, but the downside of being on first-name terms with a shop owner is that popping in for an idle browse to pass the time also entails a certain pressure to buy something. And so it was that, pretty much solely motivated by the desire to avoid embarrassment, I picked up two DC comics: Justice League #3 and #4, which came out approx. six years earlier (1987). I’d done a nice thing, but at what cost? I had crossed the Rubicon. Turned to the dark side. May Galactus have mercy on my traitorous soul.

The seeds of my downfall.

So why pick up these issues, as opposed to anything else in that box? For starters, two great covers, with beautifully clear, uncluttered and distinct artwork. They were physical and expressive, full of realistic proportions and relatable gestures – a far cry from the exaggerated Liefeld/Macfarlane-isms that had come to dominate ’90s Marvel comics. The colour palette was also appealing, bold but subdued, a version of reality only slightly enhanced. This art lives and breathes. Both covers outline a story, too. One shows a team in peril, surrounded by Soviet robots, or maybe men in armoured suits, backed up against a wire fence on which hang warnings of nuclear radiation. The other shows a team defeated, a lone figure left to fight an unseen, towering opponent. But in both cases – who was this team? I knew Batman, of course. And was vaguely aware of Captain Marvel and Green Lantern – though not this ginger-haired guy in the flashy jacket. But who were the others? The Justice League, at least as I was vaguely aware of it, was Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash… Who the hell is Booster Gold? Or Blue Beetle? And what kind of vainglorious fool would call himself Mister Miracle? Danger, intrigue, a combination of the familiar and the mysterious, and gorgeous art… who could possibly resist that, even if it was *shudder* the dreaded DC?

Who are you people?

The interiors were no less revelatory. The tone of these issues was quite unlike anything I’d ever read at Marvel – an instantly compelling combination of warm human foible and upfront superhuman action. This series is renowned for its humorous approach, but in these early issues at least, it’s not silly. The humour stems from interaction and friction between a disparate group of characters, but the situations they find themselves in here are actually pretty grave – #3 revolves around the Cold War arms race, mutually assured destruction and nuclear meltdown. But nevertheless, these characters seemed like people first, superheroes second, even though they only appeared in costume. I’d get to know their names later, but right from the beginning these characters were Scott and J’onn and Ted and Dinah, rather than their own colourful alter-egos. The combination of J.M. DeMatteis’s snappy conversational dialogue and Kevin Maguire’s astounding knack for naturalistic facial expressions and communicative body language brought them to unprecedentedly vivid life. Take the scene where Blue Beetle and Black Canary, despite the present danger, forget themselves for a moment and discuss the work of Dostoevsky. It’s from this collision between the everyday and the extranormal that the best Justice League stories emerge.

While the humanity is bold and upfront in these two issues, they also excel when it comes to action. The sequence in #3 where the League try and fight off the Rocket Reds using minimal force (mostly) is a fantastic showcase of the Leaguers’ capabilities and personalities – from jingoistic arsehole Guy Gardner’s unbridled joy at the opportunity to beat up Russians; to the Martian Manhunter’s swift retrieval of the rogue Green Lantern; to Black Canary’s brutally efficient rooftop takedown; and Mister Miracle’s attempt at détente, following his barely concealed delight at completing another miraculous escape. #4 is even more action-packed, consisting of a long fight between Booster Gold (being foisted on the League against their will by then-mysterious corporate interloper Maxwell Lord) and the Royal Flush Gang. Some great moments here, as the cocky show-off Gold takes down the gang with only minimal difficulty (and a couple of blows to the head). However, he is defeated by the gang’s literal Ace in the hole (a giant adaptive robot), and the League charge ineffectively into the fray, with powerhouses J’onn J’onzz, Captain Marvel and Guy Gardner despatched with alarming ease, while Mister Miracle’s technological hubris takes a beating of its own. It eventually falls to Blue Beetle and Booster Gold to defeat the awesome android in a historic first team-up that foreshadows their future friendship.

Two hugely enjoyable issues in their own right, then, but their impact on me personally was enormous. Firstly, they brought to my attention some characters that would become very close to my heart – like Beetle and Booster, naturally, Black Canary, Captain Marvel. And Mister Miracle was a particularly fascinating character… despite the stupid name and possibly one of the worst costumes I’ve ever seen, somewhat reminiscent of throwaway Fantastic Four character Captain Ultra in its obscene gaudiness. His abilities were vague, potentially rooted in tech and weaponry, but there were hints that he’s far more than just a mere gadget man (as Miracle attempts to fly into a reactor in the midst of meltdown, Batman stops him, saying ‘Not even you could get out of there alive’). He spoke of things like the fire pits of Apokolips and a place called New Genesis, but the lack of explanation suggested that this stuff was assumed common knowledge. Scott Free, as presented on these pages, hinted at a rich, broad mythology, and would eventually lead to my discovery of and infatuation with all things Fourth World and Kirbyesque. 

But it was J’onn J’onzz who completely stole the show, despite (or because of) the fact that he did next to nothing in either issue. His appeal for me was summed up by a parody in Marvel’s humour comic What The…?!, where the Marshmallow Manhunter was depicted ‘reading the latest Just-A-League to  find out what my powers are – if any!’ In amongst all these quippy, bantering, brightly costumed humans stood a stoic, eloquent, imposing and clearly well-respected seven-foot green dude who exuded quiet dignity and a commanding presence. The lack of substantial information about this curious background figure planted a maddening seed in my brain, and over the next decade and more, as I attempted to track down all of his modern appearances, he gradually became my favourite comics character of all time. I may be a Marvel kid at heart, but my true allegiance is to Mars.

More broadly, these two issues showed me that I’d been completely wrong about DC. It was far from staid and boring, far from silly and simplistic. It was a universe that was just as rich and colourful and complex and multi-faceted as Marvel – maybe more so. If, after Marvel had gone downhill, #3 and #4 had not found their way into my hands out of sheer social awkwardness, I might never have crossed that line in the sand to DC. I might never have read all-time great series like Suicide Squad or Flash or the Five-Year Legion or L.E.G.I.O.N or JSA or Crisis or Animal Man or countless others. I might still dismiss DC as a lesser counterpart to Marvel, rather than a complementary entity. In fact, I might never have returned to comics at all. The longboxes in the wardrobe, the piles of comics by the bed, the sagging bookshelves of graphic novels – they’re all the fault of Giffen, DeMatteis, Maguire and a big green bloke wearing a mankini. 

(originally published on the Big Glasgow Comic Page)