Justice League (2017)

Justice League is... ok? I guess? I keep trying to figure out a better way to start, but there isn't really much more to say about it. It's not the hot mess that Suicide Squad was. It isn't the fundamentally broken and jumbled disaster that was Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. It isn't the misguided, but respectable effort that Man of Steel was. By no means is Justice League the worst effort in the DC extended universe. It is a very middling affair. Oddly enough, that is quite an accomplishment.

The production troubles for the film are well-documented. Zack Snyder, who was most successful at dividing audiences with Man of Steel and Batman v. Superman, appeared to launch a franchise to rival Marvel or Fox. Then, he stepped away after his daughter, sadly, committed suicide. Though much of the film was done shooting, Warner Bros. brought in Joss Whedon to finish the project. Whedon, likely under the guidance of studio notes, sought to bring a lighter and more fun sensibility to the Snyder-verse- itself likely the result of May's Wonder Woman, which was positively received. What we're left with is a film that doesn't feel exactly like a Whedon film, nor does it feel like a Snyder film either. Whedon wound up reshooting a bunch of scenes (famously requiring the CGI removal of Henry Cavill's mustache, which he had to grow for Mission Impossible 6, in post-production). It ultimately isn't difficult to tell which scenes were shot by Snyder and which were done by Whedon.

Continuity issues arise, inevitably. Sometimes, you've got someone with a different wig. Others, a character suddenly dons an additional article of clothing that seems impossible to have missed, but they did. There is also a strange look from scenes clearly adjusted in post. For example, when Superman returns and is confused so he attacks the Justice League, the trailers indicate that scene takes place at night. In the final cut, it's altered to take place in the day. This is clearly a Whedon change, given that Snyder has never framed an action sequence in clear daylight. Even when he does set things during the day, he puts the light through a filter to wash it out. Not dark and dreary enough, ya know?

The biggest issue is the tone, which is - at times - all over the place. In one scene, they focus on the Justice League planning to rescue hostages. Cut to Steppenwolf violently murdering a woman. Cut back to the Justice League with the Flash making a bad, inappropriately timed joke. What are we supposed to be feeling here? Are we supposed to be concerned about the safety of the hostages and the superheroes, given we just witnessed a pretty violent murder? Are we supposed to be just "enjoying the ride" and laughing because of the bad joke? In terms of narrative and characterization, the film is relatively consistent, but its conflicting, incoherent tone is something that sets it apart from the previous Snyder films - which are all awful, but Snyder at least keeps a consistent tone (on the most part).

Justice League might be more fun than Batman v. Superman and Man of Steel, but it is still inherently broken by virtue of functioning as a sequel. The film doesn't *really* work if you remember anything about Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. They largely try to avoid issues with their current plot by ignoring that the last film even happened at all. For example, a central point of Justice League is that Superman was a beloved figure and without him around, the world is devolving into chaos and violence. There is no one to stop it, and no one to inspire the people to be their best selves. Ok, fine. As a starting point on paper, that's a fine set up. Except to start there, you have to completely ignore Batman v. Superman, in which the central source of conflict was around the fact that Superman was a very polarizing figure who was feared and hated by a huge chunk of the population. (It's the entire reason Batman wanted to kill him, and the source of Superman's own internal conflict about his role and standing in the world.) Well, ok, so just pretend like this is a new movie and it's fine. Except you can't really do that because Justice League itself references events in Batman v. Superman multiple times.

Which is the core problem right now with the DCEU. It's clear that they have no idea what they want to do with these properties or this universe. They hired a guy who obviously doesn't care much about Superman to kick things off, and have been trying to figure it out after that. The success of Marvel - the studio who has meticulously built a cinematic universe over the course of a decade, spanning seventeen films - has them desperately playing catch-up, thus not giving us enough background or insight into characters like the Flash, Cyborg, or Aquaman. There's also a tendency to want to stand out from Marvel, hence the darker, more brooding characterizations, allowing Zack Snyder to build his universe in earnest. Just before the release of the film, Warner Bros. came out to say that they weren't really building a singular "universe" and that each film should be viewed as its own thing.

Nowhere is this attitude more confusing than Justice League. If they truly aren't trying to build a "universe," then why launch Justice League off the back of Batman v. Superman? Why make it so that key plot points of this film (i.e. Superman is dead and the motherboxes are on Earth) are introduced in the previous film? Even more, if you cancelled the initial sequel to the film (which they did - originally this was going to be in two parts, but they reduced it to one), why add a post-credits sequence that set up a sequel?

Ok, well, we've seen stuff like this before. After all, Sony teased a Sinister Six movie at the end of Amazing Spider-man 2. We never wound up getting that Spider-verse that they had planned on. Plot points from that franchise were ultimately left dangling because it was so critically panned and under-performed at the box office that Sony cancelled all future plans for the series, ultimately giving the creative reins back to Marvel. What feels different about Justice League, however, is how openly troubled the production of the film was, and how confusing the future of the universe is. Granted, many casual viewers might not be aware of anything going on outside the film itself, but if you do follow movie news, then you would likely be going in knowing that Warner Bros. doesn't currently have plans to make a follow-up film, nor do they appear committed to universe-building. So when you get to the end and they tease a Legion of Doom sequel, it's...confounding. Am I supposed to be hyped for that? I mean, you just said you weren't making a sequel. Am I supposed to be thrilled you introduced Deathstroke? You just said you aren't building a shared universe!

Warner Bros. is still having trouble figuring out what they want to do. This is mirrored in the film by the Superman problem. Since the universe has been centered around creative forces that are obviously not big fans of the characters, there is a bit of a problem with Superman. They don't seem interested in getting his character right. On top of that, they don't seem able to figure out how to utilize him. Once Superman shows up to the final battle, he single-handedly retcons the need for a Justice League at all. He takes out Steppenwolf without taking a single hit himself. He even pauses to save a bunch of civilians trapped in the area.

Much has been made about how they finally got his character "right," and I guess that's true? Sort of, at least. He's definitely more like the source material than the previous films, but he's also only in the film for a few minutes and primarily serves as a plot device to save the day. This contributes to the popular idea that Superman is a bad character because he's overpowered. Steppenwolf is a bad, under-explored villain (who also looks like CGI garbage), but he's of another world and related to Darkseid. Why can't he get in even a few hits? You can still have Superman get punched or throw into a wall and have him win, ya know. It doesn't even call the Justice League into question if you spend more time getting their characters right.

See, in the comics and the animated series, the existence of Superman never rendered the Justice League pointless. Sure, Superman has more powers than everyone else and is stronger than everyone else, but he isn't usually presented as invincible. Other characters are also generally regarded more powerful. Wonder Woman, for example, is often presented as nearly as powerful. In the film, however, she gets in one headbutt that doesn't really phase him. This isn't a problem with the character of Superman; it's a problem with the writers. They don't like Superman, they don't care about Superman, and so they don't know how to write Superman.

The characterization of each member can be a little jarring as well. This has to be, without question, one of the dumbest portrayals of Aquaman ever. (Side note: can we please retire the, "You talk to fish" joke? I don't know how other fans feel, but it's getting really annoying to see so many writers act embarrassed about the material they're working with. Aquaman has been a great character for decades, and he's still being treated like a joke by creators.) The Flash is likely going to be polarizing. I enjoyed Ezra Miller's performance on the most part, but some of his jokes are forced and inappropriately timed. (He also looks like a person who has never run before. He runs weird, is what I'm saying.) The speed force looks pretty cool, though. We've now seen three speedsters represented in films, so it can be tough to present the same power we've seen before in a new way. Justice League provides that. And Cyborg is...not the fun character you might remember him being. He's solid, but is clearly the biggest victim of the director change and the studio mandate to be no longer than two hours. There's a lot of story missing for him, but given his significance to the plot, there has to be more on the cutting room floor. Ben Affleck, meanwhile, looks bored and eager to get out.

Wonder Woman unquestionably fares the best. She has stepped into the role of Superman, being the inspiration for many and the glue of the team. Her compassion and skill make her the beacon of light and hope that would normally be Superman's role had they bothered to get him right. It's what makes her the best character in the DCEU. (Of course, she and the Amazons don't escape the male gaze, in which her skirt is arbitrarily shorter, and they hold longer on slow-mo shots of her in motion to expose more of her legs and butt. Male objectification aside, Gal Gadot actually continues doing a good job in the role.) Surely, if the universe is going to move forward with some form of continuity foundation, Wonder Woman has to be the centerpiece.

As a film, there are a lot of problems. It's not as obtrusively bad as Batman v. Superman, but it's also not as try-hard as Man of Steel. You will likely forget almost everything about it once you've left theaters. It's bad, but it might have enough elements people might enjoy to be tolerable.

REDUCTIVE RATING: Bad.

Dark Souls III (2016)

Each installment in the Dark Souls franchise improves upon the last in various ways. Dark Souls III often feels like the culmination of everything From Software had been building towards for years, from Demons Souls to Bloodbourne. The old adage that the game is "tough, but fair" isn't always the truest statement; Dark Souls III is as close to that as a game can get.

Apart from how visually polished it is compared to the previous games, it also does a bit to improve upon the level design. A bit element to the game - in terms of environments, narrative, and gameplay - is the theme of cycles. There are a lot of repeated aspects brought back to the third game, but done with enough differences that it doesn't feel identical. Most notably, players might suspect things look familiar before running into the title for Anor Londo. There's enough there to be clearly recycled, but also enough changed that it feels different.

Cycles are perhaps the central theme to Dark Souls III, in particular its story. Of course, the narrative of a Souls game isn't pushed front and center. Players are encouraged to figure it out themselves through very brief interactions with NPCs, or by reading item descriptions. Once you notice the cyclical nature of the world and its story, it's hard not to see meta-commentary about gaming itself in there. After all, the core experience of Dark Souls III is the same as the core experience of Dark Souls II, Dark Souls, and Demons Souls. It's the best of the bunch, but being a popular game franchise means the experiences aren't going to be drastically different. Fans of the series ultimately buy the next game to get more of that thing they really liked before. And with the public admission that Dark Souls III would be the last one, the whole plot arc of trying to break the cycle becomes even more meta.

While Dark Souls II was criticized for lackluster bosses and Dark Souls was a bit clunky at times, Dark Souls III manages to toss in some of the most challenging, yet gratifying bosses in the series. Each boss has "stages," with the fight often taking up a different dynamic. If, for example, the first stage could be handled the old fashioned way of putting up your shield and circling around to stab them in the back, the second stage would turn into a chaotic offensive onslaught that required mastery of dodge-rolling. Some could be handled through rolling, but the second stage could be incredibly difficult unless you master parrying.

Not every boss is great. Some are gimmicky to a fault - one such case features the only way to really beat it is to rush past the boss to pick up a weapon specifically designed to damage it. Others require taking out groups of enemies, which isn't always the most fun part of a Souls-game, although combat is noticeably more polished. In these, and most fights, speed and agility is key.

That is the true strength to the design of Dark Souls III. Every section seems intentionally designed to encourage players to learn a more aggressive style of action. You can get through the first two games pretty fine by over-relying on a shield. In Dark Souls III, the shield can sometimes be a complete waste of time. An underrated aspect to the series that makes each game so satisfying is figuring everything out. One of the most clever ways the game highlights your improvement is by introducing early bosses into the game later as common enemies. By that point, players are both powered up and skilled enough that these enemies that could cause frustration for days became regular old enemies that could be taken out within seconds.

Conveying my own personal experience with one boss in particular highlights exactly what I love about the final installment. The Dancer of the Boreal Valley gave me fits for weeks, and yet, was perhaps my favorite boss in any of these From Software games. Apart from just how haunting she is, her attacks were such that I had to completely re-adjust the way I play Dark Souls to stand a chance. Though still equipped with a shield, I didn't make much use of it. Rather, I had to adapt by being more mobile, relying on accurate reading of her moves so as to properly dodge them. It took weeks of trying before it really started clicking. Defeating her was unreasonably satisfying. It was immense relief mixed with a strange sense of self-assurance. I "got good," as it were. In fact, the frequency at which I died dropped significantly after that boss fight. The Dancer is a perfect example of a boss designed to be challenging, yet is completely fair. All of her attacks are adequately telegraphed (and, having spent weeks watching her moves, it's almost laughable in hindsight to see how easy they are to read - definitely doesn't feel that way as you are learning!) And most importantly, the fight had taught me how to play in a style that I would otherwise have never felt confident enough to try.

That sums up the Dark Souls III experience. I'm absolutely not the first person to notice this, but it does appear that the primary focus of the game's design was to discourage relying on shields. It's still possible to get through the game playing in that slower style, just circling and stabbing, tanking as you go. Yet it is both easier and more gratifying to play in the style they design for. It would be completely false to suggest I am "good at Dark Souls," but I am good enough at games to get through them. When I go back and watch the footage I recorded of defeating the Dancer of the Boreal Valley, it almost looks as if I were good at it! It's a more entertaining style to play, and it's more entertaining to watch.

I've taken the opportunity to go back and revisit the first game, and it's hard not to notice just how much better I am now. Sure, I did marathon three and a half Souls games (1 through 3, with about half of Demons Souls), so the entire experience should mean improvement. I do, however, think the bulk of it is owed to Dark Souls III for the way it altered my behavior as a player. I played with more agility and speed, with more aggression, and felt empowered enough to try new strategies I would not have had the confidence to try in the past.

Some might argue that it's really just more of the same, and sure, the core experience is: a challenging, but fair game that is gratifying because of said challenge, as well as leaving it up to the players to figure it out on their own. In some ways, it feels like a puzzle game. However, the specifics of it cannot be overstated. Dark Souls III is the crescendo From Software has built towards. Lead director and designer Hidetaka Miyazaki has been a little confusing about the future of the franchise - at one point stating that this would not be the end, only to suggest it was time to move away from it a few months later - but each game has seen improvement, and there's still room for the Souls games to grow. Whether it comes back as a Souls game directly, or just as this new "Souls-like" genre it's helped popularize, suffice it to say that it will be one to check out. Meanwhile, Dark Souls III is a great send-off for the series.

REDUCTIVE RATING:  An All-Time Great!

Thor: Ragnarok (2017)

Thor: Ragnarok completely re-writes the script on Thor. As tempting as it is to criticize the film for further blurring the lines of serious characters versus comedic ones in the Marvel cinematic universe - indeed, everyone is a comedian in this world now - the end result here is one of the funniest installments in the seventeen-and-going-strong franchise. Much of this, of course, is owed to director Taika Waititi, whose preference for exploring outsider characters and utilizing the comedy of the mundane so effectively in his smaller films like Boy, Eagle vs. Shark, What We Do In The Shadows, and The Hunt for the Wilderpeople.

It also doesn't hurt that they have Chris Hemsworth. Revealing a skilled comedic actor under his armor of muscles during Ghostbusters, Waititi opted to let that out again. There are many who would argue that Thor shouldn't be constantly cracking wise, and that it winds up being distracting whenever he does. This was, for clarity, something I myself had criticized Joss Whedon of doing back on The Avengers. And to be sure, there is a fair criticism to be made about it here as well. If you're interested in Thor because he isn't Spider-man or Deadpool or Robert Downey Jr., then he will come off as a nearly unrecognizable character in Ragnarok.

Here's the key difference, though: The Avengers was an action/adventure film through and through with comedic characters and moments written in because that's how those films tend to work. Ragnarok is played as a straight up comedy. If "funny Thor" doesn't work for you, it's likely going to be a miserable ride. However, Thor is pretty consistently funny throughout the film. It might not be "your Thor," but the character is consistently written and portrayed throughout the film. There are darker elements to the story, to be sure, but on the whole, the film is meant to be funny, fun, and entertaining. This goal is achieved on a constant basis throughout.

Not enough can be said about the humor, either. Admittedly, I went in thinking Thor should be serious and starting off annoyed at how "jokey" he was. At the same time, I had a smirk the entire duration. I was laughing within minutes. It's such an odd experience to be angry and laughing at the same time! Eventually, I settled in and saw the film for what it was, and it is super enjoyable. Waititi is clearly influenced a lot by Flash Gordon, which will tell you about the kind of tone he's going for.

Ragnarok is, structurally, identical to every Marvel movie of the past, yet it puts a unique spin on many components. Most interestingly is the conclusion. The stakes are just as high as they've always been: the fate of the world (Asgard) and the other realms (the universe). Yawn, I know. That said, what makes it stand out is in the way they defeat the villain. Success and failure exist in the same space at the finale. To defeat his sister, Thor must actually allow the world to be destroyed. With the fate of the world on the line, our hero must sacrifice it. He spent much of the time, like always, trying everything to save it, only to be forced to let it go. It seems like a minor detail, but that alone creates a bit of separation from all of the other Marvel movies. There have been few superhero films in the past decade that have had the kind of complex conclusions as Ragnarok.

After seventeen installments into this money-printing machine, it's telling that the Marvel flicks most worth watching seem to be ones that they allow the filmmakers to inject some of their personality into. Part of why Guardians of the Galaxy stood out was the personality of James Gunn working its way in. It's a shame we'll never get to see what Edgar Wright would have done with Ant-Man, but Taika Waititi's fingerprints are all over Ragnarok.

The comedy is pretty great, the action is awesome, and the score is - finally - something to praise! Cate Blanchett might not get enough screen time for as menacing as she is (it would be fair to say she is one of the better Marvel villains to date, just as it would be fair to admit that doesn't mean much, and she still isn't super memorable). Essentially, they turned Thor into one of the most entertaining films in the Marvel library. It might not really be in the spirit of the character in a modern sense, but it's great at what it does.

The Presidential Pod #5: James Monroe

The last president truly from the age of the Revolution was also the first real "national defense" president. You certainly know of the Monroe Doctrine, but his presidency actually had a little bit more to it. Prosperity from expansionism, threats of war with Spain and renewed war with Britain, a splintering Republican Congress, a cabinet undermining him for positioning to take over the Presidency, and dealing with Andrew Jackson all contribute to his tenure. It's funny how little is known about a president whose doctrine is the most memorable.



             Meaningless Ranking of Best Presidents (Subject to Change from Episode to Episode):

1. George Washington

2. James Madison

3. James Monroe

4. Thomas Jefferson

5. John Adams

Meaningless Ranking of My Favorite Presidents (Subject to Change Also):

1. John Adams

2. James Madison

3. George Washington

4. Thomas Jefferson

5. James Monroe

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

When news broke that Marvel Studios would get access to its most beloved comic book hero, it felt like the sensational Spider-man would finally get a truly great rendition of the character on the big screen. Many fans were eager for something fun and exciting to wash the bad taste of The Amazing Spider-man 2 out of their mouths. For some, the stink of Spider-man 3 never really went away, even with the totally adequate Amazing Spider-man reboot. With Marvel Studios at the helm and no Sony to screw it up, surely, this would be at long last the Spider-man film everyone was awaiting!

It's easy to see why so many people enjoyed the film. By all means, it was a fun romp through the general sticking points of Spider-man action. It even utilizes some of the same cheesy cliches that are staples of the character. Tom Holland is arguably the most complete version of the Peter Parker/Spider-man symbiosis, which stands out given that Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield both did solid jobs as either Peter or Spider-man. Neither brought the two together quite like Holland. Of course, it helps that the actor is just 21 years old. Compared to Maguire (who was 26) and Garfield (who was 29), we finally have a high school Peter Parker that actually looks like he could, ya know, be in high school. (Byline on that thought: how strange is it that Garfield was actually older than Maguire when they took their roles?)

Yet this is also one of the problems with the film. High school Peter Parker is sort of old hat by now, as far as cinematic renditions go. It's a bit odd that they keep insisting that Peter start in high school every franchise when, in the comics, he hasn't been a teenager in decades! Being a high school kid certainly helped grow the popularity of Spider-man when he was first introduced into the world of comics. The medium was (and continues, really) to try to be appealing to all ages, especially young folks. Placing him in his teen years would resonate more genuinely for teenage fans buying comics. At the same time, teenage Peter Parker hasn't really been interesting in the comics for ages. On film, navigating high school has been so repetitive that it highlights how limiting that environment ultimately is. 

Certainly, it is appreciated that they recognized Spider-man is one of the characters in which no one one in the theater needs the origin story explained, picking up in the middle of his every day life is sort of problematic as far as film structure goes. The first ten minutes are almost unbearable. We get the hyper-simplified introduction of the villain, followed by a nauseating series of smartphone shot footage of Captain America: Civil War - because maybe there's a chance people didn't see that movie. It all just serves to recap the last big Marvel movie, which begs the question: is this just what we're going to do now? Are we going to need to start each film on Earth with a "previously on" sequence? It's strange that they trust the audience enough to already know that Peter Parker was bit by a radioactive spider, and that Uncle Ben was killed, but they can't trust us to have some idea that Captain America: Civil War happened just a year ago? 

The primary issue here is that so much attention is spent on Spider-man, his ancillary characters are effectively pointless. Sure, we can easily tell that Ned is his best friend, but since we get so little time with them or seeing them be buds, it feels entirely rushed when he catches Peter in the act of being Spider-man within the first twenty minutes of the film. We obviously tell that Liz is Peter's love interest, but other than some awkward (and kind of uncomfortable) moments of him pining for her, they don't really have much screen time together prior to him confessing his feelings. It's true that in Spider-man and The Amazing Spider-man, we already can tell that Mary-Jane and Gwen are his love interests. The biggest difference is that those relationships are actually pretty big components to the overall plot. Liz is indicative of a film that feels very "paint-by-numbers." 

Aunt May fares even worse, given she has almost no role whatsoever in the film. She gets maybe a scene or two to worry over her nephew, and she gets a brief moment to highlight how in the dark she is about his big secret. On the whole, she is absent from any meaningful aspect of the story. This problem is by no means exclusive to Spider-man: Homecoming. Few writers and directors have quite understood how to utilize the main cast. For example, Zack Snyder clearly has disdain for Superman's world of Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, and Perry White. 

We don't ever really get moments to see these relationships in action, in part because they choose to bring us into the action already in progress. It's also in part because the Peter Parker world takes a back seat to the Spider-man world. This is a key difference between other "first films" of the character, and a big reason why Spider-man and The Amazing Spider-man are better. Those are films about Peter Parker, and Spider-man gets in the way. Spider-man: Homecoming is about Spider-man, with Peter Parker getting in the way. That might make for a more entertaining action flick, but it makes for less compelling drama or character arcs. It is a bit of a miss to have his arc end with "digging deep" to prove he's worthy of the suit when we are also already meant to assume he has already learned the lesson of great responsibility accompanying great power. Granted, they never explicit reference Uncle Ben at all, but because his origin story is implied, we should be safe in assuming that is the case in this universe as well. 

Spider-man has lacked intriguing or substantial villains ever since Sam Raimi stopped directing the films, and as great as Michael Keaton is, Adrian Toomes is as much a boring villain as anyone in The Amazing Spider-man. He goes from what appears to be an honest working man to an illegal arms dealer, performing high tech, elaborate heists, in literally the blink of an eye. It's impossible to get a bead on him. In the prologue, he's just a working man trying to earn a living for his family, as are all of his employees. When he loses the gig cleaning up after the alien invasion from The Avengers, he goes full-blown terrorist: stealing illegal weapons and selling them to dangerous people on the streets. He supposedly cares about his family - he states a couple times that's who he's doing this for - but he never seems like a half-way decent person at all. And then at the end, he has a little moment randomly protecting Peter Parker's identity from another criminal. Why is that? Are we supposed to think it's because he wants revenge himself? Or is it because, after Spidey saved him, he's maybe showing that he isn't just another generic bad guy? Either way, he doesn't get enough development or attention throughout the film for it to really make sense. 

It is worth noting that there are interesting elements in there. One conversation sees his crew point out the insanity that Stark gets to take control of the clean up when he was part of why the city wound up in ruins in the first place. Toomes's rant at the end about how someone like Stark gets to just do whatever he wants is completely legitimate. It's just not presented adequately enough in Homecoming. It makes sense if you are a fan who has been watching from the start. Tony Stark has indeed been behind some crazy stuff and gotten off without any real consequences. Then again, we just watched an entire movie where Spider-man keeps screwing stuff up and he, too, doesn't suffer any consequences. By the end, his principle dismisses his detention stating that he's a good, smart kid while Stark offers him a brand new suit and a spot on the Avengers squad. He faces no legal repercussions for his assault on a person trying to get into their own car. Also, there's no blow back from the fact that he disrupted an FBI sting operation on the ferry. Watching Homecoming is, in a sense, a great way to understand why J. Jonah Jameson feels the way he does about good ol' webhead. 

The action is good, of course. Most Spider-man flicks do that side of things really well. The lack of any weight to it here, though, causes it to suffer. There aren't really any stakes, even personal ones. Sure, it's not totally stale to see a story about this kid trying to live up to the standards that idols like the Avengers set, but since that's all he's trying to do for so long, it just feels like insignificant, mindless fighting. Who cares, really? 

They try to put some sort of personal spin on the final battle. They basically spin off from the Harry Osborn thing. The Green Goblin is the villain of the first ever Spider-man film, and his son happens to be Peter's best friend. It's a great way to create drama in the action. Even if Spider-man wins, Peter loses because he's inadvertently destroyed his best friend's father. They sort of attempt this in The Amazing Spider-man by having Gwen Stacey's policeman papa involved in the action. Again, Spider-man wins, but Peter suffers. Here, they randomly force the connection that love interest Liz's dad happens to be Adrian Toomes. Voila! A classic Spider-man trope, present and accounted for! Only, it is revealed so abruptly and with virtually no set up - and just before the final action. It's one of the most contrived things in a super hero film to date. In The Amazing Spider-man, it kind of just makes sense why Captain Stacey would be involved in trying to bring down the villain. Additionally, he and Spidey have a few run-ins prior. The same thing is true of Spider-man. Norman Osborn has a relationship with Peter from the beginning by virtue of being his son's friend. 

Again, it falls flat because who really cares about Liz, her family, or even Peter's potential relationship with her? They are such a non-item throughout the film that it's almost easy to forget the stakes there during the fight. Worse, the consequences are completely short-lived. Whereas Peter has to continue to live in a world where he feels responsible for the death of Harry's and Gwen's fathers while maintaining a relationship with Harry and Gwen, Homecoming has Liz simply move away to Oregon. She's out of the picture completely now. That still stinks for Peter, I guess, but it is so much cleaner. At least he doesn't have to worry about sustained feelings of guilt! Phew!

At the end of the day, when you ask the quintessential question, "what is this movie about?" there isn't really a good answer. Both Spider-man and The Amazing Spider-man are about this kid grappling with these new powers and the responsibilities that come with them. They're about learning balance between the maturity these responsibilities require with the ability to lay back and take care of oneself. They're about navigating relationships while life throws crazy curve balls at you. There's a tiny bit of that maturity theme in Homecoming, but it's actually just about Spider-man becoming part of the MCU. Through stretches, it feels almost exclusively to exist to show how he is part of it (while also somehow keeping him out of New York City proper, so, I hope you don't think swinging through skyscrapers is a key ingredient to good wall crawler action). It's so full of references to the MCU that you can almost feel a footnote on the script. 

To be sure, it beats the previous film. The Amazing Spider-man 2 did some things well enough, but got bogged down too much with world building for its own good. Here, the world has already been built, so it was more world referencing. While it could also be argued that the infamous Spider-man 3 suffered the same thing as Amazing Spider-man 2, there could be a legitimate case that it is a better film than Homecoming as well. (That might be one of the most controversial things I've written on this site. Perhaps I'll elaborate on that later in greater detail.) It's not hard to understand why modern movie goers might love Homecoming, but it is - as a film - perhaps the weakest thing Marvel has put on screen so far. And yes, I'm including Thor: The Dark World. (Man, I really want nerds to hate me, huh?) 

REDUCTIVE RATING: It's...actually kinda...meeeeeeh.