Marvel

Disassembled – Avengers: Age of Ultron

The below is my initial thoughts on Avengers: Age of Ultron, pulled together into some vague order. Warning: It’s pretty damn’ spoilerific. Let’s start with the kind of brash prediction I have absolutely no business making: Age of Ultron will not break the same box office records as its predecessor. As I understand it, the only way a film makes as much money as The Avengers did is from people going more than once, more than twice, to get another hit of whatever emotional reaction seeing it elicited in the first place. Age of Ultron just isn’t that kind of film. In fact, much like Thor and Loki, the film is more or less the opposite of its older brother. Back in 2012, I wrote about my search for meaning in the original Avengers. My feeling then was that while the movie was a remarkable achievement of craftsmanship – bringing together at least four disparate universes and styles and transforming the rote last-half-hour punch-up of the Marvel formula into one my all-time favourite action scenes, the dopamine hit I reckon brought people back to the scene over and over gain – it wasn’t the piece of art I was hoping for. Age of Ultron, on the other hand, is full of meaning and metaphor and all that good stuff, but (at least on a first viewing – and let’s get two disclaimers out of the way here: 1, that the first Avengers only really came together for me on the second watch, though frankly that’s not something to commend it for, and 2, that the cinema screen we watched the film in had the house lights on throughout, and horribly muddled sound, so thanks for that Streatham Odeon) the plot is borderline incomprehensible. I often found myself adrift, lost among the mass of plots and characters. The origin of the Vision, whatever the hell Thor was up to for the majority of the film’s running time, Ultron’s evil plan – each of these seemed to require its own synopsis. Worse, there aren’t as many jokes. Much of Age of Ultron is leaden in this way, like the film hasn’t yet completed the alchemical process of editing, like it has been presented to us still halfway through transmuting into gold. But there are still plenty of nuggets which shine through. I often found myself with mouth open and eyes wide, drinking in the sheer childhood-fantasy-realised spectacle. The moments of superheroes leaping into action, the emotional arcs that the film manages to find for an impressive (though not total) number of its gigantic cast, Ultron’s philosophising soliloquies – each of these landed perfectly. There still aren’t enough jokes, though. These two halves can co-exist in a single scene. I remember a point during the climactic brawl, my internal monologue (rarely a welcome presence in the dark of the cinema) still trying to work out how exactly we’d gotten to this point, while in the other half of my cerebellum, something was shifting. The shape of the entire film fell into place. Not the plot, unfortunately, but the patterns of everything we’d been shown, how the stories of various characters cast shadow and light on one another – what I would call, if I wasn’t trying to convince you this was actually a fun read about a blockbuster superhero movie, the subtext. This is the stuff I really love about the film, and so with all the caveats already mentioned, I’d like to talk about the ways Age of Ultron tickled my brain, and the shape I saw in that moment. Which, to borrow the pithy tweet-sized thought that popped into my head then, is: Age of Ultron is the biggest-budget movie about how hard it is to make a big-budget movie I’ve ever seen. Let’s start with Hawkeye. After a difficult first film (mind-controlled, bed-bound) that had Jeremy Renner reportedly threatening to quit, this time round he gets a role that you could argue makes Hawkeye not only the primary protagonist of  Age of Ultron, but an author surrogate for Joss Whedon himself. Let’s grab a quote from the recent Buzzfeed profile of Whedon, which I read a few days before sitting down in the cinema and, honestly, heavily influenced my thinking on the film: By March, as he sat down to dinner near Disney’s Burbank, California, studio lot, where he had been living as he worked with two editors to finish Age of Ultron, that guilt was weighing especially on his mind. “I didn’t feel it was right to spend that time away from family, even before I had kids,” Whedon said. “I felt like if it wasn’t the headline experience, that I was being self-indulgent in being there, and it was frustrating.” Around halfway through Age of Ultron, Hawkeye takes his teammates to a safe house, where it’s revealed that there is a Mrs Hawkeye, and two baby Hawkeyes, and a third on the way. A family that live, in secret, away from the kinds of cities where those big super-hero/villain battles tend to take place. A family that, Black Widow excepted, none of his work friends know anything about. A family that he rarely sees because he’s so busy Avenging. Those dots aren’t exactly hard to connect. But if Age of Ultron was entirely a autobiographical story about how hard it is to be a writer, it would have failed its audience dramatically. Luckily, I think the film stretches itself much wider than that, reaching for something we can pretty much all relate to. See, for Hawkeye at least – and this is something he explicitly references a few times in dialogue – being an Avenger is a job. (And this is part of the difference between the character’s solo films, where they combat problems that threaten them personally, and their appearances in the Avengers.) It’s an unusual job, for sure, but one with a familiar challenge: balancing it with the rest of your life. The revelation that Hawkeye […]