#ageofultron
In Age of Ultron, did anybody else notice Mjolnir slightly MOVE when Cap tried to pick it up?
I’ve spent a lot of think time trying to figure out the Avengers franchise. Before every new entry I think “wonder if they’ll do it again,” and after I see it I think “yup, they did it again.” I’ve consistently enjoyed every one since the first Iron Man hit theaters (don’t tell me the Ed Norton Hulk counts), but I always wonder why. I consider myself to have good cinematic taste, I’m far more hipster than I would like to admit, and I blast films on the regular for being rote and predictable. Yet the most rote, predictable franchise out there continues to entertain me.
I saw Age of Ultron about an hour ago, and as I walked out of the theater I realized it had happened again. I paid $10.50 to see the same thing I’ve seen every six months for the last seven years, and I loved it. If you haven’t seen it I’d say you absolutely should, but I don’t need to because you’re going to anyway if you have the slightest interest. All of America will turn out to see this movie because that’s what you do. There’s nothing wrong with it, the jokes are funny, the fights are exciting, the characters are all solid, it’s exactly what I wanted.
And that’s what I realized on the drive home. I wantedthis. I wanted this exact experience, the same one I’ve had nine times before. So again, in the car, I asked myself why my standards of innovation didn’t apply to this franchise. Here’s what I realized: The Avengers isn’t a franchise, it’s a brand. When I go to see a movie, I don’t know exactly what I’m gonna get. I’m likely to either be pleasantly surprised or slightly disappointed, but that’s part of the excitement of seeing something for the first time. But every new trailer out of Marvel screams “Avengers! A name you can trust!” And we do.
What Marvel and Disney have created is a series so formulaic that A) you know exactly what you’re in for and B) they can guarantee it’ll deliver. If I want a Coke, it’s because I want the exact Coke taste right then, and I go to Coke because no matter what, I know they can give me that. So when I want a witty, well-acted slug-fest, I’ll bank on the one brand I know can give it to me. There’s no shame in repetition if you do it flawlessly, and from where I’m standing, the Avengers ain’t about to start slacking. I acknowledge now that I am part of the “problem,” feeding this endlessly turning machine with my biannual $10.50, but I’m okay with that now. I feel alright joining America for two hours of dumb CGI nonsense, because there’s nothing wrong with drinking a Coke.