Fuggedaboutit


X-Men Origins: Wolverine isn’t terrible… which is a shame, probably, because if it at least committed to being kind of kicky-bad that would constitute making a choice; as it is, the film sort of X-men-origins-wolverine-2 muddles along, winding up at somewhat unsatisfying, while teasing you with the notions of a smarter better film in there, somewhere.

Sharing that quality with Watchmen, Wolverine is more frustrating because the joyous, fizzy buzz of comic book adventure is much more obvious within it. And Watchmen, at least, had the sense to make things consequential: the “save the world, but lose your soul” aspect of its moral feels more consequential than Wolverine’s sense of personal drama trumping all else. Lonely man goes off to soldier alone… surely someone in a producing role noticed that the ending is, well, kind of a downer.

In these “dark comic” days that’s surely intentional, but in Wolverine’s case, the darkness just can’t contain the film’s aspirations. Partly that’s a function of the film’s leading actor - Hugh Jackman, giving it his all, is just not that into darkness. Unlike, say Christian Bale, whose icy depths offer a “love my dark side or fuck off” kind of choice, Jackman’s showmanship is more oldschool and eager to please. That’s not a flaw - Jackman’s star quality carries Wolverine and overcomes much of the slack parts - but it’s why Wolverine will never be mistaken, say, for The Dark Knight or Batman Begins. Bale is the darkness… Jackman shines too brightly to stay there.

Much of the problem here in Wolverine is the script - too many characters, too much exposition, too many hidden double and triple twist motivations. By the last couple of “surprising” revelations, it’s too much to care about, and no actor can or should have to sell as many contradictions as a number do here.

Telling the tale of Wolverine’s origin, we learn that Logan has a brother (Liev Schreiber), and both have indestructability among their powers. Beginning in 1845, the film quickly takes the pair through every major American war up to Vietnam, then moves them into a special unit of mutants (though the script doesn’t make this entirely explicit) that eventually burns most of them out. The head of this unit - Commander Stryker - seems to have ulterior motives in his dealings with all of them, which are ultimately revealed in the big confrontation on… Three Mile Island.

Points for creativity on that last bit, but by the time we get to the Evil Lab on the Nuclear Island, we’ve been, literally, all over the place; And the buildup just doesn’t lead to a great payoff: there’s a sameness of size to the action sequences (all big, all over the top) that undercuts the sense of rising tension, and the Evil Lab is kind of a letdown - neither so scary as to seem threatening nor so brilliant as to make our mad scientist seem like genius… just your usual dumb villain’s lair (you can just see the receptionist - “Master Villain’s Warehouse of Evil, how can I direct your call?”)

It’s tempting to blame Liev Schreiber for what’s not working here, but by the end he’s really not the problem; sure, he’s chewing scenery like mad in one of his least subtle performances… but someone has to, and Schreiber, like Jackman, has the kind of acting skills to give a big character in an exercise like this just enough subtext to add interest. Together he and Jackman make much of the most preposterous elements work better than they should.

No, the more likely problem is lack of chemistry between Jackman and Lynn Collins, as his love interest Kayla. Collins is just too sweet and simpy in the role, and Jackman - without offering crass speculation - works better when his female lead is more active, agressive, tougher (like Nicole Kidman in the underrated Australia). Wolverine slackens considerably during the height of their romance, and never entirely recovers. Nor does making love for her Logan’s prime motivation really give any urgency to the unwinding of the third act.

What energy there is really comes from male bonding and man-on-man tension (draw your own conclusions; I’m not saying a word… or the word). Will.i.am doesn’t add much, but he and Jackman have an easy interplay; Ryan Reynolds has great presence in the early going, but is ultimately wasted. Better still is Taylor Kitsch - still bigger and better (and prettier) than the small roles he’s getting in these ensemble pieces - who matches Jackman’s sly underplaying (and his foxy looks) and nearly steals the proceedings. It’s in these moments that a smarter, better, more consequential film seems to exist… only to get smacked down by dumb dialogue, pointless destruction, and killing characters we care about to keep the ones we don’t.

Why Gavin Hood is directing this is a bit of a mystery - was Tsotsi really that good, or really preparation for a summer blockbuster? - and may go a long way to explaining Wolverine’s muddled intentions. The man-boys who usually direct these affairs wouldn’t try so hard to be emotionally affecting… but they might be more right not to try.

And Jackman, pumped up beyond all reason, ought to get credit for trying: his amped up presence, manly but less consciously beautiful than Australia, is a real transformation. Few actors could find, in Wolverine, a gentle, yet driven, man… and it’s a credit to Jackman’s intelligence and performance skills that he pulls this off without making the softer elements feel weak or… well, soft. Unfortunately, he can’t outsmart, or out-act, the weakly scripted events here.

What’s lost ultimately, is why an audience would want this film: wanting to know how Wolverine became such a butch badass, the film can only offer, weakly, that he came that way… but hey, he’s also saddled with tremendous emotional pain… which would be compelling if he could remember what it was. He won’t, and neither, unfortunately, will most of the audience. Or at least, I bet they’d like to forget about it… if only they could.


Crossposted from NYCweboy.

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May 7th, 2009
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