What's this? you query. Is that Joss Whedon? Why, if he's about to eat a delicious ice cream cone, does he look so solemn? And salute-y?
Well, true believers, it's because the ice cream cone he's holding up in solemn salute is a Cornetto. Ring a bell? Probably not for the majority of you. But a select (and awesome) few of you might recognize the phrase "Cornetto Trilogy" as pertaining to the peerlessly wonderful filmic collaborations between Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, and director Edgar Wright - namely, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World's End. Those of you who know me well know that few films are as precious to me as Wright's Cornetto trilogy - hell, I almost wrote my thesis on the trilogy, and the notion of internal grammar and interconnected filmic world-making. In fact, most of the films that do matter more to me are mostly those that I am writing my thesis on: the superhero films of Marvel Studios. So, you can probably understand why I've been gibbering with glee since approximately 2008 at the prospect of the twain meeting, with the following film:
What film is that? you muse, perplexed as ever. Exactly. Marvel's Ant-Man would never have had much brand recognition, were it not for the involvement of Edgar Wright. Instead, as Wright is a superbly talented and caring director, known for his hyperkinetic stylistics and knack for making nerdy obsessions seem as fresh, relevant and cool as ever (he also cracked into the comic book universe with Scott Pilgrim vs. the World - surprise surprise, another of my favourite films). Ideal fit to elevate a B-tier Marvel hero into more cultural capital than ever? Uhhhyeah.
Except it was not to be.
On May 23rd, the internet exploded with headlines reading "Edgar Wright departs Marvel's Ant-Man."
And my heart broke.
That sounds like hyperbolic exaggeration, but it only barely is. Given my aforementioned passions, this was devastating to me. I would have been fatalistic, and said that such a match made in heaven could never have survived, were it not for the fact that Wright has been in official production with Marvel for eight years (and has been pitching the film since 2003). It was a hard blow, and I reflected a lot on my reaction to it.
First, I found a nagging voice in the back of my head griping What's the big deal? It's only a movie. People are dying every day worldwide and you're all choked up about a movie? A movie called Ant-Man...? Grow up.
And that's fair enough. I would never privilege a film over the tragedy of human lives lost or anything even remotely comparable, and it is pretty conceptually weird that this particular loss stuck with me in the face of the kind of global catastrophes proliferating the news every day. But still - that line of thinking essentially eradicates and devalues the existence of fandom across the board... or caring about movies, or liking things, or happiness, or finding any real meaning in life. The world is a pretty dour place a lot of the time, and I think it's worth mining it for joy in whatever capacity resonates with you.
For me (and apparently quite a few other people), two such examples are films and comic books. I see the appeal of them as transcending mere superficial escapism too, and, as I've argued before, including in my thesis, tapping into all kinds of resonant nodes, including nostalgia, mythic hero narratives, omnipotent power fantasies, but also the existence of a transcendent moral code that (yes, if implemented in 'real life,' holds major red flags for totalitarianism and fascism - it's nice to dream, though, in the same way that it's nice to fantasize about being able to teleport or fly), at its best, provides a very helpful framework for making sense of life (not at all unlike the way religion does - I don't know if that's controversial, but I see a similar, if less engrossing, appeal), especially as a kid. I also truly believe in the value of film in allowing an escape from life, or provide structuring narratives and thematic devices to help make sense of it - often simultaneously. So, in short, I care about comic books, movies, and comic book movies. Deal with it. Yes, that means you too, voice-at-the-back-of-my-head.
Ant-Man, moreover, to me, was an example of the 'only-a-couple-times-in-a-lifetime' alignment of stars in which two things I could get particularly passionate about finding a merger. It felt like two old friends that you always felt would be perfect in a romantic union together finally hooking up (James Gunn, director of Marvel's Guardians of the Galaxy, used a similarly effective analogy). And things were lining up SO WELL: the screened test footage looked amazing (yes, I know - the guy 'narrating' the video is annoying as fuck, and I apologize for that, but it is telling that he, like many, uses "This all looks really silly, but that's okay, because it's directed by Edgar Wright" as the film's main draw) and the film had lined up an impeccable cast, including Paul Rudd(!!), Michael Douglas (?!), Michael Peña, Patrick Wilson, and Corey Stoll from House of Cards, and who also memorably embodied a drunken, violent Hemmingway in Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris (who I was hoping would be playing Whirlwind). Even Wright's ever-so-clever tweets about the film's production just felt right.
(In fact, my only real gripe – which is really part of a much larger ideological gripe – was Marvel wussing out of the opportunity for representation of a significant non-white female lead for once, as the casting of an Asian [or half-Asian] Wasp would be in accordance with the Ultimate Avengers universe, which the films have largely been following [see: Sam Jackson]. But nope - we got the tremendously interesting Evangeline Lily. Whoopie. Note sarcasm. Did the stupendously awesome Ellen Wong, who already worked with Wright as the ever-so-memorable Knives Chau in Scott Pilgrim, occur to nobody? I mean, yes, she's a bit young to be a love interest for Paul Rudd, but that's never stopped Hollywood before, and there may even have been Wright-like comedy and social commentary to be mined from that. Grr.)
Regardless, for years, I was able to babble on about why Ant-Man would take everyone by surprise and inevitably take its ranks among the best superhero films ever made with considerable conviction. And many people agreed with me, discussing how the character's lack of recognition, the announced fusion of comedy and spy genres, and the creative inventiveness of Wright, could make for the "boldest Marvel movie yet," and allow them to actually take chances and strive for new creative heights instead of simply being locked into formula. Not unlike that Guardians of the Galaxy film that everyone said would be stupid until they saw the trailers, and suddenly cared more about it than any other film this summer, one might even hazard. I, for one, was particularly stoked for the prospect of a much smaller (ha) and more playful superhero film that doesn't have to span universes to be awesome.
But, as with any such union, there was always the fear of somebody getting hurt. And lately, since the 'break-up,' I've been caught in a double-bind between knowing who to blame. It kind of feels like a family member just punched my best friend in the face. Or, rather, it's hard not to view it as such: to frame Marvel as the big bully who demanded Wright's lunch money so often that he had to switch schools. We'll probably never be privy to the actual specific details behind his departure, but, given allegations that Wright departed after Marvel making substantial, unapproved changes in his (previously approved) screenplay to the point of thematically changing it, and in the wake of the callous dismissals of Terrence Howard and Edward Norton (remember them?), it's pretty hard not to see Marvel as the bad guy here.
Things haven't gone well for them since. I suppose the prospect of an auteur director trumping the worldwide love for Marvel didn't really occur to anyone beforehand, but the backlash from this has been pretty harsh. There have already been a slew of B-list directors who have passed on the project (including Adam McKay of Anchorman - and, yes, the excruciating Anchorman 2 - fame, and the director of the goddamn We're the Millers. The upside is Roger Corman's hilarious two cents on the matter), which is publicly embarassing for Marvel. Even Joss Whedon and James Gunn, who are tightly enveloped by the clutches of Marvel, have publicly expressed support for Wright, albeit carefully and diplomatically. Since then, tons of articles have hit the web with pretty on-the-nose titles like "It's time for Marvel to squash Ant-Man - without Edgar Wright, it won't work".
And I'm finding it hard to disagree with them. The prospect of a Wright-directed Ant-Man was so joyful for me that, as much as I'm still sticking with Marvel, I kind of want it to fail now. Yes, me. I've heard many such sentiments from tons of people who aren't nearly as invested in Marvel or Wright as me. It's just kind of sad, though. Not only is this an unfortunate story, and a grim tale of capitalism and studio interference quashing a passion project that we were teased with the prospect of perpetually surviving (it's like losing Community all over again...), but it feels like something so innocent and joyful got snuffed from the world. For a day or two, it made me not care any more about superhero films, casting hype, and so on. For me, that's a pretty substantial deal.
And Marvel hasn't really won me back much since. Even the casting reveal of major puppet master antagonist Thanos, which should have been a HUGE deal, was treated as a muttered afterthought, as if even Marvel realized how shameful it looked as a follow-up.
Yup. It's Josh 'W.' Boring. I mean Brolin.
(Don't get me wrong: I like Brolin just fine (I have, in reference to Spike Lee's
dumbass Oldboy reboot, referred to him as "Mr. Unremarkable"), but, as I said to Wade,
a universe where Josh frickin' Brolin plays arguably the most important character in
the upcoming MCU while Idris Elba toils thanklessly in the role of Heimdall in the
Thor films has something deeply wrong with it.)
Anyway, I've been grimly pontificating for years that I feel like the bubble-burst heralding the end of the superhero film zeitgeist is coming, and that Ant-Man would roughly make or break it. With this in mind, it's pretty hard to not feel like that might be a necessary inevitability. If superhero films aren't going to take chances and shoot for interesting things, I think dialing back on them isn't such a bad call.
(If John Cusack actually gets cast as Dr. Strange, I might eat my words. Maybe. I just hope things at least hold out until we get a Black Panther movie. Even a low budget one. God knows we could use some variety in representation in Hollywood, let alone in the superhero genre.)
Anyway, I designated this post as more of a personal rant than my usual fact stuff, so I'm going to abstain from a fact of the day as my means of solemn Cornetto-tipping solidarity to Wright. I guess we can at least bitterly celebrate that, like The World's End, he's free to do what he wants, any old time (or perhaps paraphrasing Loki or Hydra's "Free of freedom" remarks would be more appropriate). So, until next time, True Believers...
RIP.
