I seem doomed to take the wrong message from Hollywood’s occasional, conflicted attempts to denounce materialism. In The Family Man, for instance, a college-aged Haus was far more interested in Nicolas Cage‘s NYC penthouse, his rack upon rack of crisp tailored suits, and his barking 550 Maranello than with the bad shirts and poopy diapers and bowling leagues that decorated the suburban Jersey family authenticity of his cosmic “glimpse.” (Of course, as I remember complaining at the time, Family Man does set up a false dichotomy — there’s no reason in the real world why Cage couldn’t have his college sweetheart and also a thoughtful wardrobe. The film tries to paint sartorial apathy as per se evidence of solid character, a position with which I continue to take issue.)
So it’s no real surprise that during act one of Marvel’s Doctor Strange — when we briefly tour the brilliant surgeon’s gleaming living space and ill-tempered Lamborghini Huracan in glorious IMAX 3D — instead of denouncing him as an unsympathetic one-percenter, I took a non-trivial interest in his watch drawer. Plus ca change, I guess.
This is the story of Dr. Steven Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), the aforementioned fancy-pants neurosurgeon who damages his hands and seeks an ancient path to healing. He enters a world of vague magical mysticism in far-Eastern mountain temples, with a shiny-headed Tilda Swinton twirling SFX shapes and doing Inception-type things to the world, and facing a villain (Mads Mikkelsen) whose primary crime against humanity appears to be an aggressive ponytail and some scene-kid eye shadow. The dark arts are being harnessed to threaten the world, or some such. The details aren’t too important, really.
The story is not particularly deep, nor is it grounded or especially relevant to our world. This makes it typical of most (non-Iron-Man) Marvel character origin films. For instance, Thor’s solo efforts weren’t particularly interesting either, and I had the same complaint about Captain America’s opening salvo — it’s clear these movies existed chiefly to lay the groundwork for no-holds-barred Avengers team pictures, and I get the same sense with this one. These movies do not exist to solve problems that anyone cares about, evidenced mostly by the fact that each one introduces a new villain (and, more often than not, an entirely new dimension).
That said, this is a film that’s well worth watching.
Cumberbatch is excellent here. I expected Sherlock to up the nerdiness a bit, but he plays Strange closer to Tony Stark: Arrogant, self-assured, and always right. Humility comes slowly, and it’s ultimately fleeting — though lip service is paid to subjugating the ego and to quiet self-sacrifice for the greater good, the superhero model ultimately depends too much on charismatic rogues who command attention and buck the system and do things their own way. Swinton is serene as an ancient old sorceress, clearly enjoying herself whilst padding about in robes and cooing about magic and other dimensions. Chiwetel Ejiofor is perhaps a bit too somber as Strange’s fellow sorcerer, and Rachel McAdams is largely wasted, a doctor trapped in Strange’s old life. Quibbles aside, Marvel’s continued reliance on A-list acting talent is commendable. The characters may not offer much, but the performances at least are thoughtful and well-executed. Director Scott Derrickson — largely known for writing/directing horror, like Sinister and The Exorcism of Emily Rose — steers this massive cruise ship of a hero film with an easy hand.
The special effects, though, steal the show. We’ve come a long way since the liquid metal of T2: Judgment Day, and we’re all so inured to photo-realistic computer graphics that it’s rare for a film to register as worth seeing for this reason. But Doctor Strange is one.
It helps that the effects are not only high quality but virtually never-ending. Packed full of fractal-blooming, fire-painting, time-cheating, Nolan-esque city-folding, spell casting, and interstellar dimension-hopping — and with a semi-sentient cloak flailing around as well — this production employed literally hundreds of visual effects artists across, by the look of it, several dozen firms. The results are stunning. See it in IMAX 3D, if you can.
With each new big-budget hero feature, Marvel trends asymptotically towards Pixar– (or Nolan-) level predictability: we know the team will produce something entertaining, watchable, and vivid. This film was clearly a colossal production, with hundreds upon hundreds of highly skilled humans toiling for years to entertain you for two hours (and to get paid, natch). The fact that the same ticket price gets you into either this or Keeping Up With The Joneses … well, it’s hardly a comparable value proposition. Movies are getting expensive. Get something for your money, and see this.
In all, Doctor Strange feels a lot like Guardians of the Galaxy — an unexpected and trippy big-budget romp in a secondary sliver of the Marvel universe, populated with top-shelf actors and relatable humor. If you liked Guardians — and you should have — you’ll like this.
Haus Verdict: A wild, well-acted, effects-heavy superhero picture grooming yet another Marvel franchise hardly anyone knew. It’s a full-on blockbuster and a visual treat, so don’t miss it.
Doctor Strange opened Friday November 4.
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