Justice League
So, it has come to this: After several colossal and wildly expensive misfires and one encouraging certified hit in last summer’s Wonder Woman, Warner Bros. and DC have finally accepted that their previously adopted vision of dark, poorly constructed films that relied on heavy atmospherics, overwrought CGI, and a stubborn insistence that director Zack Snyder’s glum version of the DC Universe was the way to go with their canon, had to change. Simply put: If they couldn’t beat ’ em, they had to join ’ em.
Gone is the unrelentingly brooding vibe that draped itself like a heavy cape over Man of Steel, Suicide Squad and Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. In its place is a much lighter version of the characters — some of whom actually crack wise from time to time — and an embracing of the Marvel Way of going about things, or at least a somewhat cheapened facsimile thereof.
The film still has a fair number of problems — not the least of which, the costumes, which pop with so much surface detail and
texture, at times you feel like you’re watching a dramatized book of fabric swatches. But Snyder, with an able boost by former Avengers helmsman Joss Whedon, brought in near the end of production when Snyder had to leave after a family tragedy, and his producers have at least taken steps to establish a new approach to the DCU properties: Not only does this film pull back the thick funereal drapes and let in a bit of sunshine, it even offers a couple of warming sunsets to illuminate its crusaders in the basking glow of their heroism.
As far as story skeletons go, DC has pretty much copped Marvel’s original Avengers film in terms of bringing the team together for the first time. Batman ( Ben Affleck), and Wonder Woman ( Gal Gadot), know a powerful alien force is amassing and about to attack the Earth. This assault is being lead by Steppenwolf ( Ciarán Hinds), a monstrous foe with a glowing battle- ax and a nasty disposition. Steppenwolf was deposed in his first attempt to conquer Earth centuries ago by a combined force of man, Amazon, and Atlantians, but now returned to take revenge and bring the “unity” of three insanely powerful hatbox- sized MacGuffins hidden on Earth in order to hold ultimate power in the universe. ( Any comic fans who see this setup and don’t immediately connect it to Marvel’s Thanos- and- infinity-gems scenario simply isn’t paying enough attention.) His threat comes at a point when the planet is devoid of Superman ( Henry Cavill), whom you might recall, died at the end of the previous film, though one of the worst- kept secrets of the film is the inevitability with which he will return.
Fearing the worst, Bats and WW amass their team, including Aquaman ( Jason Momoa), a rowdy, booze- swilling demigod of the Ocean; Cyborg ( Ray Fisher), a man- bot erected using alien Kryptonian technology by his father after a horrible explosion claimed the life of his mother; and the Flash ( Ezra Miller), a kid with a lightning quick first step and, as the designated comic relief, a host of phobias. United, the team attempts to take out Steppenwolf, but first has to figure out a way to resurrect their fallen Super- comrade.
As far as character arcs go, the film makes loose attempts to humanize everyone — the Flash has a father ( Billy Crudup), wrongly imprisoned for the killing of his mother; Cyborg has major issues with his own father ( Joe Morton), for bringing him back to life as a half- man, half Kryptonian-powered machine; Aquaman … wears jeans underwater for some reason – but doesn’t get much farther than establishing ambient side- stories to give them something else to do when they aren’t sitting around in the bat- cave with Batman’s butler, Alfred ( Jeremy Irons), planning their next battle sequence.
Tonally, the film is a bit of a mish- mash. You can certainly see the Snyder of old in places — endlessly bent- to- breaking physics, displayed in super slomo for maximum aggravation; a tendency to overstate every shot ( the Bat- signal never seems to get used on a night blessed with clear skies; the Kent farm is filled with thick, verdant cornstalks and a series of thoroughly perfect Midwest sunsets, etc.) — but Whedon’s influence, a straight counter to Snyder’s propensity for stuffy, airless solemnity, keeps cutting into the margins of what the rest of the film seems to want to do. The funniest scene in the film, involving Aquaman and WW’s Golden Lasso of Truth, is pure Whedon, taking the somber profundity and pompousness of the character and turning it on its head, but how well that hangs with the rest of the film depends largely on how much grace you’re willing to give it.
Which brings us to those costumes. It’s no small impediment to a superhero film, and must be one of the more challenging elements of pre- production, but it becomes increasingly important: If the heroes look unintentionally ridiculous, it crosses our suspension of disbelief. Towards
that dubious end, the film has made some peculiar gaffes.
WW looks largely the same from her last film — a more than welcome respite from the rest of this mess — but the same cannot be said of anyone else. Batman spends the film in a chunky Frank Miller “Dark Knight”- inspired costume that often makes him look short and squat, and is unfortunately peppered with a fabric texture that can only be described as an unholy combination of sandpaper and burlap. The Flash wears a kind of body armor that makes his feet splay awkwardly sideways when he runs, which is often. Cyborg is all obtuse angles and metal casings, and, um, another Super- character displays yet another type of fabric weave, this one involving latex under what appears to be a sort of fishnet design.
As basic a point as that all may be, it becomes increasingly distracting, which is an unfortunate hallmark of Snyder’s brand of visually hyperbolic filmmaking. Everything calls attention to itself, so nothing really pops the way he wants it to, like a fish tank filled with nothing but swooping, super- colorful fish such that none of them stand out from the others. It’s ophthalmic overkill, and despite the best efforts of the team to lighten the mood and bring a jolt of energy onto the screen, it still has the feeling of trying far too hard.
Wonder Woman proved that the DCU can turn the tide against it — and, as always, it would seem, Diana Prince is again the film’s most enduring character; even if, at times, it’s like watching 2006- era LeBron James having to cajole the rest of his more moribund Cavaliers to victory by raising his level of play to exhausting levels — but there is still a lot of work to be performed before this crowded universe of heroes ( optimistically alluded to in the opening DC logo) can truly spread their wings and take flight.