film review : The Avengers

The Angriest Critic isn’t always angry, sometimes he is as happy as a kid in a candy store, or a kid watching a film full of superheros.

by Adam Rosina

To be fair, what follows is just a tad bit too glowing of an endorsement to fit within my own narrow definition of what an objective film review is. So perhaps it’s best to think of it as more of a congratulations to the filmmakers, a piece of free advertising, or a “blowjob made of words”. I leave such assessments to the reader. Now, onward and EXCELSIOR!!!

So you may have heard about this little indie flick called The Avengers. No? Well, a few years back, Iron Man dropped, giving us all year long shit-eating grins, reminding us how handsome and charming Robert Downey Jr. is, and teaching us that alcoholism is an endearing personality quirk (the exact opposite lesson I’ve been teaching my friends and loved ones by way of my body and broken dreams over the last decade). After the credits rolled, director John Favreau threw the fanboys a bone in the form of Samuel Jackson portraying (“Ultimate” continuity) Nick Fury, who spoke three magic, game changing words, The Avengers Initiative. The geeks went apeshit as planned, but when the film became a runaway success, so did the rest of the world, and what started as a wink to the fans became the genesis of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Over the next few years, more films were released, detailing the origins of Thor, Captain America, and the Hulk, each interlacing with one another in one of the most ambitious attempts in cinematic world-building ever seen. All this was leading up to a massive crossover event, a phenomena familiar to comic fans but utterly alien to filmgoers (not “utterly Alien”, however, but the less said about AvP, the better). But who would helm this beast? Who could deliver the insane bombast expected of a half-dozen super-beings knocking the shit out of each other onscreen without letting it devolve into a loud, idiotic Bay-esque tumor inducer?? Enter Joss “Buffy, Angel, Firefly, and every other thing you’ve ever fucking loved” Whedon. With Whedon supervising the delivery, the baby that became The Avengers was born, and came to teach us a new lesson, that month straight we smiled after Iron Man wasn’t even remotely goddamn long enough.

read the full review in the June/July 2012 Issue

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