Things I Learned from the Avengers

Just realized I never posted this here. I should have done. 

Better late than never. 

I only recently saw Marvel's (Disney's?) the Avengers, directed by the murderous Joss Whedon. Seriously, Agent Coulson? Really? REALLY?

I know I'm a bit out of the entertainment loop, but I've been busy and I live in the middle of nowhere. And movies in Japan are expensive. It costs about 17 US dollars to go to a flick at the mall. The little theatre in the forrest in Yasuda is probably cheaper, but I worry a bit that it might not be playing English films, which would be okay if difficult, and more that I might get murdered on my way back through the jungle after the picture, which would not be okay.

Anyhoo, so I rented the Avengers and spent all of my daikyuu time watching Mark Ruffalo apologize for being emotionally unavailable and listening to the cheesiest dialogue I've heard since Adam West commended the dolphin who gallantly sacrificed itself in front of that torpedo so Batman and Robin could save the world from the Yellow Submarine (or however that one went - Pow! Bam!).

Nay! That was not a slam against the comic cohort of assembled avengers! That was just the third paragraph. I really liked the movie and thought the dialogue was a compilation of all the things you wished they would say, especially Tony Stark's conversation pieces, but that usually get left out of movies. Like all the actors knew they had to take it seriously, but not too seriously or they might not be able to face themselves in the mirror when it was all over.

I'm trying to figure out a way to work the movie into my sixth-grade class. They'd love it and it would make English MUCH more applicable to them.

So a list of things I've learned:

Do all your banking online. Never go to the bank. Ever. Captain America can’t always be there to save your ass when you’re cashing your pension check. (And if you happen to live in Gotham, just never leave your house. Unless you’re moving.)  

As long as we're on that one, just don't ever live in New York City. Yeah, it sounds romantic and wonderful, but let's face it. It's always the first to go, whether from the bad guys (see ID4, King Kong, etc...) or from friendly fire (see Failsafe).

Learn English. Because that’s the only language in which your alien attackers will bother to speak to you no matter what country you inhabit. They will assume you know it and will get irrationally pissed if you don't instantly kneel when they demand this of you. 

Get a headset and NEVER be without it. Girls, we’re lucky, most of us can hide it in our hair. Boys, go get yourselves helmets or super-hero masks, while you’re out there getting the headset. Nobody wants to be the last to the alien-destroying party and there is simply NO TIME to speed-dial your cell.

If you happen to prefer distance-killing (as opposed to hand-to-hand combat) figure out life’s cheat code for arrows and bullets. Legolas isn’t the only one who never runs out. Hawkeye obviously googled that one before he went to work for S.H.I.E.L.D and where Agent Romanov stores the extra cartridges on that uniform, well, I’m too much of a lady to ask, but as a lady, I have some ideas.

If you happen to be human and you have access to a super-suit, make sure all the other parts of your domicile are easily breakable and non-body-damaging. Because when the evil demi-god from planet F-ing Nowhere throws you headfirst through your plate-glass windows, you are going to get your face cut off, unless it’s that candy-glass they use for stunts in Hollywood. Especially if the super-suit launch is a tad delayed. Thanks, Jarvis.

Always carry a knife and don’t go out without your cover. Okay, I learned those from Gibbs, but they're totally applicable here.

Learn to fly a jet. If you don’t have access to a jet, just learn to fly a regular non-commercial aircraft of any form. This will allow you to fly top-secret-state-of-the-art-paid-for-by-your-tax-dollars military grade aircraft. You bought it and if you break it, hey! Uncle Sam will buy you another. 

If you're looking for trouble, you might try Budapest or Marrakech. Because that is where all the fun stuff happens.   

And if you absolutely must live in NYC or any of those other cities constantly besieged by alien forces, get to the gym but quick! Being ripped will be the single defining factor in whether you survive the fallout or get shredded like cheddar cheese over a taco in the next war of the worlds. Don't worry so much about your lower body, if you're a gentleman. The super-hero physique is an upside down triangle for men. Focus on your biceps and pecs; this was the only movie I've ever seen in which almost every male character had boobs as big as the female characters' (boobs). 

I watched the damn thing about five times today. Itunes really messes with you over this whole 24-hour expiration thing. That should be my super-power, actually. The ability to magically keep rented movies in my itunes library forever for the price of the rented picture. Will ask Mr. Stark about it...

Alice in What-the-@#!$% land

Some movies make you want to cheer for the bad guy. Some do this intentionally, in a Usual Suspects kind of way, and some do it accidentally in an Alice in Wonderland kind of way.

I actually like the writings of Lewis Caroll, and think Alice and her adventures are entertaining enough without delving too much into psychosis and prepubescent muchness. Although the dresses that keep falling off the main character don’t help keep those thoughts in their quiet midnight of the mind. 

But I have other bones to pick with this inconsistent picture. 

Some of the characters are romping in camp, which is quirky and almost entertaining, except for the other stoggedly (that’s “staid” and “dogged” getting it on) serious ones, the principal player of whom, sadly, is Alice herself. Almost Alice, mostly Alice, Alice in Chains, whomever.

The scenery is pretty, but completely lacking any realistic framework and mostly it looks as though several sets were poached from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Except for the Red Queen’s palace, which is apparently behind the tar pits in the shadow lands at the back of Mustafa’s pridelands.

The story is more or less the same as the original, with the framework being that Alice’s father has died, leaving them more or less destitute because his shares were bought by a business partner…for not enough money to keep the family afloat? And who wants to shore up the alliance by marrying the brainy and beguiling Alice off to his pasty son (not that you should judge someone based on their skin conditions - I myself am a Victorian creamy, which is "pasty" in a much more posh voice).

First off, Alice, don’t trust a dude who was trying to pass his genetic code to you down by way of his insipid spawn. And most definitely do not go to CHINA with said individual hoping to expand your father’s business vision – if the partner-guy was really interested in your father’s vision, he would have paid a proper price for his investment so your mother wouldn’t be hawking off your ovaries the minute you turn twenty.

But such two-faced supporting characters are not the only inconsistency in this strange and twisted tale. In fact, there are so many crazy little inaccuracies and discrepancies that I had trouble focusing on just one thing to drive me crazy. But I came up with it.

The whole premise of the picture is that the Red Queen has gone crazy and ravaged Underland, while banishing her sister to what seems to be a very safe and secure hideout somewhere in Tokyo's Ueno garden during cherry blossom season. Red holds the kingdom in thrall (am I using that correctly?) and all the underlings, who resemble Disney characters after five weeks of heavy heroine use and Matt Lucas, are waiting for a champion to return in the form of a grown-up Alice who will slay the Jabberwocky and restore the White Queen to the throne.

Nota bene: looks like the White Queen's got it going on. I mean, she enjoys a great palace, clean clothes, running water, and the love of her disgruntled subjects while her sister does all the backbreaking work of day-to-day governing. Cry me a river, Whitey. 

Somewhere towards the end of the picture, after we’ve been to Rivendell and back (kid you not), we end up at Weathertop and Alice pulls out Biter, while the Mad Hatter somehow got his badly manicured paws on Beater. (Which now that I think about it, sounds a little dirty…) Anyhoo, the Red and White Queens meet each other on the checkerboard of battle and the White Queen tenderly begs Red to give up the crown peacefully. Red replies bitterly that the crown is hers – she is entitled to it of course, since she is the elder sister.

Back the cracked tea pot trolley up.

Are you telling me the Red Queen is the elder sister? That the crown is actually due to her based on the succession of oldest issue of the full blood of the king?

What the hell, Alice?

All of a sudden, our fantasy-land coup (staged with the necessary help of huge bullfrogs and carpucian monkeys) is moved from the realm of trying to throw off Machiavelli to subverting Divine Right. And just because she's killed a few subjects and a nameless king. 

Some people are so picky. 

My other major issue with this flick is that Alice is spending this adventure nerving herself up to reject a marriage proposal because she doesn't want her life decided for her by people around her. 

But the whole reason the White Rabbit came to get her is because the Oraculen (either a kind of spider or an alien race from Star Trek) scroll, which looks like it was stolen from Hyrule’s Public Library, depicts her lording it over the Jabberwocky on Frabjous Day (Calloo, Callay! I chortle!) So that Alice's original act of independence and self-government is rendered completely mute. She tries to stand up for herself and say no one is bossing her around, only to remain blind to the fact that  she has no say in the matter. In fact, she’s bullied, bribed and egged on until she defeats the Jabberwocky – Oppan Gandalf style – so that the White Queen can banish her blood relative to a place where “no one will ever be [her] friend.”

That’s telling her.

And then the Mad Hatter turns into CGI Michael Jackson.

I rarely want a movie to end just so I can start writing a cynical message about it. But by the end of those very long 108 minutes, I was really looking forward to climbing out of that ridiculous rabbit hole.