All right, budding blockbuster
filmmakers. Here's the one you'll want to emulate for the next three
decades. Very little in the way of plot spoilers, but plenty in the
way of thematic spoilers, so just read it. It'll be okay.
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| Photo property of Marvel Studios, LLC. |
Escapism is the root of mass
entertainment. We want to see the Nazis vanquished by fedora-clad
archeologists and explosives deactivated within a second of
destruction. Entertainment removes us from common annoyances like
taxes, feeding the cat, etc., but it can be essential for those with
deeper neuroses, those dealing with addictions at home, bankruptcy,
or loss of loved ones. We plop in our dark, cushioned,
air-conditioned bubbles to ease ourselves away from those hardships,
and we excuse ourselves for procrastinating in our duties to overcome
our obstacles. That's why we all love it. Academics and critics
often make light of this condition, but it's rare for creators
themselves to project it baldly at us within their work.
Guardians of the Galaxy,
the latest Marvel Studios film from director James Gunn (Slither,
Super),
does that with its opening scene. Set in 1988, young Peter Quill,
who will grow up to be protagonist Star Lord of the film's titular
team, sits terrified in a hospital waiting room, listening to a mix
tape on his Walkman. He's so intent on the cassette, the crackly
sound quality, the way its plastic winders buzz its magnetic tape
through to the next classic soul or rock song. His shaken
grandfather kneels before him, signaling it's time to face the
problem from which he's escaping. Peter is reticent, as any young
boy in his situation would be, but he digs deep and heads inside,
where his pale, bald mother lies, connected to beeping machines,
waiting for her last moments. She gives her son a wrapped present
and explicit instructions not to open it until after she's gone. She
hold out her hand for her little boy, but he can't take it. He
doesn't have the emotional faculties to deal with what's happening.
His grandfather, trying his best to hold back his own sense of
mourning for his daughter, returns Peter to the waiting room. He
runs outside the hospital in tears, a blue-white light blankets him,
and away he floats, abducted by interstellar pirates, on his way to
becoming a rogue, a hunky space Peter Venkman as played by Parks
and Recreation's Chris Pratt.
Quill
literally escapes his grief over his mother's death by hopping in a
space ship. Let's talk about that for a second, because it's slyly
brilliant. Most films accept as a matter of fact that they are
escapism. They expect you to pay your money to dither away a couple
hours with something you'll forget the next time your head hits the
pillow. You'll be happy you got out of the house, they'll be happy
with their $13.99 ticket sale, and the cycle will continue. But this
scene, at the start of a superhero movie, is more than a lark, a
cheap vacation to 'splosion land. There's heft. There's an instant
theme of what escapism means to people, how it works, and it sets up
a core question: Is escapism healthy or productive in the long run?
Skip
to the present day. Quill, trying with hilarious consternation to
get the galaxy to refer to him by his preferred nom de plume, gets in
some hot water over a MacGuffin -- think of it as a usually meaningless object that sets the plot in motion, but for more, go here -- chase that actually matters to the
characters and plot of the film – this mattering is
significant enough for its own essay, which we'll have to leave for
another time. A bounty is placed on his head and the rest of our
unruly, distracted characters stop by at a chance to earn some
significant money for this dorky thief, or maybe utilize the power of
the MacGuffin in his possession.
We
have Gamora (Zoe Saldana), the green-skinned adopted daughter of a
cosmic tyrant – adopted because he murdered her real family in
front of her – who's looking for revenge via the power of Quill's
artifact. She's a calculated assassin who has steeled herself from
her need of family in order to operate efficiently in society.
The
bounty hunting partners Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper), a
genetically engineered raccoon who's angry about that fact, and
Groot, an eight-foot-tall, kindly though mostly mute tree creature –
Vin Diesel's numerous iterations of “I am Groot” deserve some
congratulations – see Quill as a paycheck, pure and simple. The
bounty will keep Rocket going while he ignores what was done to him,
wrestling with what that means for him, keeping him gruff and
sarcastic to everyone, befriending nobody but the tree man who is
more his freeloading muscle than anything.
A
chase in an alien city commences, as does the summer popcorn movie
dazzlement. The fight scenes are clean, easy to follow, with
little-to-no shaky camera. These are well-composed action beats,
highlighting each character's strengths and vulnerabilities, and
their collective problem of becoming too mired in their most
immediate task to notice something else.
Thus,
the land in space jail.
There
they meet the last of their group, Drax the Destroyer (Dave
Bautista), a tattooed brute who literally cannot comprehend nuance
and metaphor. He's filled with rage at the film's villain, Ronan
(Lee Pace), for the slaughter of his wife and daughter. That's all
that fuels him. None of the other stages of grief enter his brain.
Pure anger revenge.
The
jail is a wondrous place of yellow and concrete cinematic
construction that looks like the future has been going on for quite
some time. The same goes for the spaceships and most locales in
Guardians of the Galaxy, all
of which are beaten down things, rusty in places, dusty in others,
and Jesus help you if you “shine a black light” on the interior
of Star Lord's vessel.
Don't
discount the use of humor as a coping mechanism for these characters,
either. This is a funny movie.
Each character has a different sense of humor (or not), and those
who aren't jokers still make for some of the biggest laughs. The
serious Drax cannot understand the “slicing your finger across the
neck” motion and replies helplessly, “Why would I rub my finger
on his neck?” The odd couple give-and-take between Rocket and
Groot, wherein only Rocket can understand the nuances of Groot's
three-word vocabulary, makes for understated laughs wholly removed
from the absurdity of their existence as characters. There are often
extra, unexpected beats at the end of scenes that, in hindsight, are
perfectly composed, but work as uproarious surprises in the moment.
But
eventually, we all need to look at reality soberly. The film's
climax works as the perfect artistic depiction of that leap. All the
more power to Gunn and company for making such a visual smorgasbord
of a spaceship battle the background for which the characters, and by
extension the audience, can better learn to deal with who and where
they are in life.
Quill
must learn to grab his mother's hand at long last. Gamora must
replace her family with someone who is not already gone or a despot.
Rocket must realize he's a worthy cog in something important, not a
freakish rodent. Drax must learn subtlety and multilayered styles of
living to defeat his enemies. And Groot must keep them together,
literally in this case.
Escapism's
all right. It's where the good stuff in life comes from. But don't
let it be all you do. And don't accept subpar movies that only
promise you escape. We look to stories to teach us something about
life. Learning how to move through your neurotic brain is a lesson
Guardians of the Galaxy is
far better suited to teach than one may have guessed from the Blue
Swede “Hooga Chacka”s bellowing on the soundtrack may suggest.
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