Ordinary effects?

So far I've seen two of the big summer comic book movies:  Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and The Amazing Spider-Man 2, with Guardians of the Galaxy and X-Men: Days of Future Past still to come.  (To be honest, I'll probably skip Guardians of the Galaxy simply because they're not "my" Guardians - when I think of this particular Marvel team, it's the version from the 60s and 70s that was led by Major Vance Astro, who coincidentally ends up wielding Captain America's shield in the team's intergalactic encounters.)

But I digress.  I really enjoyed The Winter Soldier - Chris Evans repeats his perfect performance as Steve Rogers from the first film, and this time they really showcase Captain America's physical prowess and fighting ability, while cleverly dealing with his position as a man displaced from his own time. The script does a great job of showing the slippery slope of surveillance as a tool of freedom, complete with Robert Redford as an advocate of the new world order of pre-emptive strikes and "getting the job done".  Previous knowledge of the Winter Soldier plotline from the comics meant that one of the film's big revelations wasn't much of a surprise for me, and the dénouement isn't as good as Cap's Times Square revival scene from the first movie, but overall I found it to be an entertaining and eminently watchable movie.

After having such a positive reaction to Captain America, I was primed for an equally impressive second film in the Spider-Man series, but to my disappointment, it almost completely failed to capture my interest.  I didn't quite start yawning during the show, but it was a damn near thing.

But why I didn't enjoy Spider-Man more?  There's some good acting:  I'm a fan of Tobey Maguire's portrayal of Peter Parker, but Andrew Garfield's version of the character is starting to grow on me.  Sally Field is quite good, Emma Stone is suitably plucky, and I liked what Dane DeHaan did with the role of Harry Osborn.  There's some very good bits of Spider-Man dialogue that, for the first time in any of the movies, really evoked the wise-cracking webslinger from the comics, and Aunt May gets to show herself as a person rather than a cardboard cutout that says, "Oh, Peter" every few minutes.

Admittedly, there are some unfortunate script problems*, but they shouldn't have been deal-breakers.  Why didn't I care when Gwen Stacy's life was literally dangling by a thread - or more accurately, a web?  Why was I more emotionally invested in the short scene where a ten-year-old in a home-made Spider-Man costume decides to confront the Rhino than I was in the entire climactic scene of the film?  How did that happen?

I think the problem is that the special effects are more special than effective.  An awful lot of the action in Spider-Man 2 looked like the trailer for a really really impressive video game. I KNEW that they were special effects, albeit really good special effects, but still effects, still "fake" rather than real.  When it comes right down to it, I watched a big fight scene between two sets of computer code.  Why would I have an emotional reaction to that?

Intellectually, I know that there must have been a lot of digital effects in The Winter Soldier.  However, the skill with which they're blended with the live action, and the degree to which Chris Evans does his own stunt work, made me believe completely that I was watching Steve Rogers take out a SHIELD gunship with nothing but a tin shield** and his bare hands, or steel himself for a 150 foot fall after fighting an elevator full of HYDRA agents. 

Maybe this explains why Tobey Maguire kept losing his mask in the other Spider-Man 2:  it gave the audience an opportunity to see him as a person rather than a collection of well-rendered and shaded pixels.

- Sid

* I really hate to say this, but I thought that Jamie Foxx's character was right out of Batman Forever in terms of being a sort of over-the-top camp cypher, and the writers had Spider-Man manage to stop two airline flights from colliding at the last minute - which would be impressive if he'd actually known that the clock was ticking.  As it is, it came across as a weird coincidence rather than a win.

** Yes, I know, it's vibranium, but work with me here, I'm trying to make a point.

Old school.

Right now, I'm attempting to set up a date to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier.  My prospective companion is a geek, but not, I think, a comic book geek - which no longer really matters when attending any of the recent wave of comic book movies. I think that writers and directors have adequately filled the gap in terms of continuity and backstory to the point where anyone can attend one of the films and know who's who and what's what.

This has been accomplished by recapitulating the evolution of the comic book universes created by Marvel and DC, particularly in the case of the Marvel universe.  We've seen the origins of Iron Man and the Hulk; watched Captain America descend into frigid arctic waters, only to be rediscovered decades later; witnessed Thor's arrival on Midgard; and winced not once but twice as both versions of Peter Parker have encountered radioactive spiders.

And that's a bit of a problem for me.  I started reading comic books in the late 1960s, when Marvel Comics was in the early days of developing the complex layers of character, plot, continuity and retro-continuity that form the current Marvel milieu. As a result, I knew perfectly well that Peter Parker would get bitten by an irradiated arachnid - he has to get bitten, that's what happens, I know that. Similarly, the effects of gamma rays on mild-mannered scientists is a given. I'm aware of Tony Stark's problems with alcohol, there's a Donald Blake joke in the first Thor movie that non-fans would miss completely; and it's a little extra funny to me when the Hulk dismisses Loki as a "puny god". 

As a result, when I go to a comic book movie, I have a pretty good idea of how things are going to go. In the case of the new Captain America film, I already know perfectly well who the Winter Soldier is, I'm keeping an eye out for Agent 13, and I find it a bit amusing to compare the original Black Falcon with the current version - who, in these enlightened times, is probably just "The Falcon".

But, don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining. In fact, that's why I enjoy these movies, I appreciate the manner in which they are faithful to their origins while updating the look and feel from the world of four-colour press, and rewarding the old school types in the audience with in-jokes and references to the original comics.

As an example, I laughed a bit when I saw someone named Batroc in the opening sequence from The Winter Soldier which has been on YouTube™ for some time.  There is no sign as to whether or not he will leap:  if you got that joke without looking it up, then you know exactly what I've been talking about.  If not - well, enjoy the movie!

 - Sid

P.S. Just for the record, the outfit worn by the comic book Falcon in the picture above is not his original costume, but it is the one in which he was able to fly.

"The Illudium Q-36 Explosive Space Modulator"

 

I'm pleased to say that my Buck Rogers XZ-38 Disintegrator pistol arrived in the mail today, more or less on schedule.

I somehow had in my head that it was nine inches long, and I was right - well, nine and a quarter, actually. Regardless of the actual size, it's a bit smaller than I had pictured it, but it fits comfortably in my hand, which is a little surprising given that I'm six feet tall and have average-sized hands.  It must have felt like a serious piece of weaponry in the grip of a ten-year-old in 1935.  To my eye, it doesn't look hokey or funny, it's a well-designed device with an Art Deco feel to it.

As I expected from the pictures, there's some corrosion on the tri-thermal convergence unit* at the end of the barrel, and a slightly wide gap on the back of the grip compared to the rest of the body. A couple of the sub-atomic condenser flanges* are a bit dented, and there's some rust inside the bell itself.

If someone told me that the convergence unit had fallen off at some point in the pistol's life and been soldered back on by some sympathetic handyman, I'd believe them:  the join between the end of the beam definer tube* and the unit looks tinned, the same way that copper water pipes look near a join.

The spring mechanism for the energy release lever* is completely missing in action.  The hinge mechanism is still sound, but when I pull on the trigger it doesn't return to position, and I have to tug it back out of the frame. Whatever sort of noise or spark was supposed to be produced is lost to the vagaries of time.

The finish is in acceptable shape, not perfect but what you'd expect under the circumstances, the joins between halves of the body are good, and it actually feels quite solid when I hold it, well balanced and comfortable. The various Pat. Pending documentation and the Buck Rogers Registered Trademark information is sharp and clear on the side of the body.

Overall, I'd have to say that I'm pleased with my unexpected purchase, regardless of its various signs of age.  All it needs is a fresh impulse generator cell*, perhaps an adjustment of the beam collimation coils* in the convergence unit, and it would be ready once again for use against the enemies of Earth.

 - Sid

* All of these except one are the actual names for the parts of the disintegrator as per the original Daisy box - the other one I just made up based on my extensive background in focused energy weapons.