Just
saw Captain America. He’s the first Avenger, apparently. He has
incredibly neat hair and a quite square head, and those are facts.
I’m sure he’s more than capable of looking out for himself, but I
am a little bit worried about him, even though he seems to be all but
indestructible. It’s his mental well being that concerns me. I
should probably mention that I’m assuming you’ve seen it, seen it
and remembered it. As such, I shall be mentioning plot details, so if
you don’t want to know about how good triumphs over evil and that
the good Captain saves the day and lives to fight another one, I’d
stop reading. Because that was a shocker, wow-wee, didn’t see it
coming.
Suffice
to say it is not a genre bending movie. There are no twists and no
surprises. I don’t even think all the stops were fully out, and
somewhere around the seventy minute mark the whole thing kind of
grinds in on itself. There’s a massive jet thing with some bombs in
it. I’m not entirely sure what Agent Smith from The Matrix’s plan
was, or why he was doing a hilariously dreadful German-ish accent,
but he was. That’s definitely what he was doing. But he didn’t
get to finish doing it because the wise cracking, firey one from
Fantastic Four didn’t let him. He hit him. Lots. With a shield.
Which
is fine, I suppose, and as I say I thoroughly enjoyed all of it. More
so the build up, watching a mesmerisingly small and weedy Chris Evans
bumble about was a pleasure. The power of computer trickery in films
now is most pleasing. Chris Evans (the American, in this film one.
Not the ginger, TFI one) is not a slight man. Laying ones eyes on
him, one does not think ‘well he’s a narrow, gangly and awkward
looking fellow’. But thanks to the magic of the future they made
him look like I used to look when I was about 12. Only more handsome
and with hair more incredibly neat. Soon we won’t even need to cast
humans in the roles of thin, weak, sticky-out-elbowed men. They shall
be replaced by virtual, slightly more handsome men. With odd looking
jaw lines.
I
particularly liked the steam punk-esque imagining of the second world
war. I did. I don’t know why, I just did. It spoke of a simpler
time when all a man had was like, a jump jet thing, blue L.E.D lights
everywhere, a sort of flying car (nearly) and in one mans case, a
bowler hat in U.S Army green instead of a proper helmet. Simpler,
more heavily stylised times. Hugo Weaving did his hissing, shouting
bad guy thing efficiently. Nazi people got blown up. Battles were
fought from the heart and won largely by cliche, and the thermostat
was set to heart warming. I liked it. I did.
But
I am a little bit worried about him.
Captain
Steve “America” Rogers looks like he’s all that, but look
closer. He was a small, weak boy who was constantly getting beaten up
and who never ran from a fight. He took a sustained beating on
several occasions before being super-sized and almost seemed to enjoy
it, which is not a good way to conduct your business. He can’t talk
to girls, which is probably just as well, what with having the voice
of a much larger, more burly man. He is clearly insecure and self
loathing with a worrying detachment from his own body and sense of
place. He is overly keen to go to war, and though we are told this is
not because he wants to kill and is in fact because he doesn’t like
bullys, it is of course really because he wants to kill. No one as
nice as Steve Rogers seemingly is, is. There are issues a plenty just
beneath the surface, gently restrained by a serial killers smile and
sparkling eyes. A cold madness bubbles ‘neath that angular face and
head-and-shoulders shine. You swoon and flutter your eyelashes,
certain that he’s the one. The perfect man. And I’m sure he would
be, right up to the moment he finds a way not to feel awkward around
you by keeping you young, quiet and beautiful for ever. Mother would
like you like this.
Not
that I remember any mention of parents or guardians.
So
then, the perfect candidate for testing a process that turns you into
a super soldier. A process that massively increases all that you are,
making good great and bad worse. A process Howard Stark seems to be
quite heavily involved with, which is cool and everything, but he
couldn’t even get his flying car to fly. A major flaw in a flying
car. So I sure as Hell wouldn’t get into a futuristic iron maiden
willingly and let him plug it in, slick little moustache or not.
Steve
does, obviously. He’s hungry for the power deep down inside, he
just hides it well. Then he watches a man slowly take a gun out and
shoot the scientist who created the machine. Not a great start. There
follows all the usual whizz bang heroics, a love interest, a dead
close personal friend, a silly final set piece. Silly, but I must
remind you, I did like it.
Then
poor old mental Steve gets frozen for seventy years. Frozen for
seventy years. Seventy years. Frozen. So for a start he’s missed
Iron Man, it’s less appealing sequel, Hulk, Thor and Watchmen. The
whole superhero genre has passed him by basically. As if that’s not
bad enough (although, keep in mind that he did also avoid Batman and
Robin, so every cloud), everyone he ever knew, cherished, loved and
nearly got it on with are all long dead. All of them. So should he
avoid the actually inevitable collapse of his mental health due to
his deep seeded self hatred, raft of insecurities and tendencies
toward violence, you can be pretty sure that eternal loneliness and a
forever of unfulfilling, ultimately pointless and unrewarding noble
gestures would push him over the edge.
Couple
this with a burgeoning God complex and, well, you can see that there
could be a problem. I enjoyed it. I did. All I’m saying, really, is
enjoy Captain America, sure. But don’t forget that he’s hurting
under that faintly ridiculous costume. Even super heroes get lonely.
I’m
not especially looking forward to The Avengers movie. I like one
superhero per world, or at least continent. I’m not really happy
when your Batman and your Superman are fighting and then Wonder Woman
pops up to calm things down. Or when Hulk drops that documentary on
the history of Prague and it’s architecture back to The Flash,
because it wasn’t his thing really. It just doesn’t work for me.
But if there must be an Avengers film, I’d like to see ninety
minutes of Steve Rogers and the gang just hugging it out. Really
working some shit out.
Because
I liked Captain America : The First Avenger. I did. I really did. I
just think if they all got a little help, took a little them time,
sought professional guidance and looked hard in a mirror, they’d
all be alright. And then we could have a nice big budget extravaganza
in which the main character isn’t in a mask/cape/spandex.
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