Directed by: Peyton Reed
Produced by: Kevin Feige
Screenplay by: Edgar Wright, Joe Cornish, Adam McKay, Paul Rudd
Based on: Ant-Man by Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby
Starring: Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Douglas, Michael Pena
Cinematography: Russell Carpenter (Ooo, he did Titanic, nice!)
Production company: Marvel Studios
Release date: July 17, 2015
Cinematic Universe: MCU (#12)
Logline: An ex-con finds himself caught up in an uncomfortable family squabble between an aging superhero and his daughter. He takes up the mantle of Ant-Man from the old guy to...um...stop a guy from...killing cute baby lambs? And making evil Ant-Men for the military? Also the ex-con is trying to be a part of his own daughter’s life but his ex-wife won’t let him until she changes her mind because he puts his daughter in danger and why would she do that and...geez...what the heck is this movie about...memory...fading...into nothingness...zzzz...also the whole movie realizes that Hope really should be the main superhero but doesn’t know what do about it other than lampshade it and throw in an apology in a post-credits scene zzz...
Bone Ranking: A Potato Chip of a Movie.
It’s a fine flavour for a moment, but you ultimately forget you ever had it and are left unsatisfied.
Quickie Review:
Alright, Let’s Talk Marvel’s (and everyone else’s) Villain Problem:
Why Good Villains Make Good Stories Make Good Heroes
Everyone knows about the MCU’s villain problem. Kevin Feige, CEO of Marvel Studios, has indicated it’s intentional - that he wanted their company to be the one that focused on the heroes. They do sell more toys, after all. He’s been quoted saying they don’t really want spotlight the baddies at all, that they’d rather make it about the hero’s inner journey. That can work - Iron Man proved as much. But Iron Man did so because, as I’ve previously written, Iron Man is both hero and villain of that story. He has a lot of personal issues to overcome. The same can’t be said of Scott Lang, who, yes, is a former criminal trying to go straight for the sake of his kid, but he still begins the film a decent person and ends the film as more-or-less the same decent person. In fact, the film goes to great lengths to reveal that his supposed ‘crime’ was more of a Robin Hood affair, protecting the little guy from the big, bad corporations and being unfairly punished for it. I suppose the real journey belongs to Hank Pym, who learns to trust Hope, his daughter, with both the truth of her mother’s death and in her abilities to save the day and get home safe. But she herself also has no real character arc. In my opinion, both of these problems can be tied to the larger one in the MCU; that goshdarn villain problem.
It’s no secret that I am and always have been a major villain fan. My favourite Disney songs were always the villain songs. The first movie I remember crying during was 1998’s Godzilla when the titular creature was killed (specifically, I can recall loving Godzilla because ‘she’ was the first female bad guy I saw who also wasn’t ‘sexy’, and that was cool and why would they kill her, she had just had cute babies!). My catholic elementary school would encourage us to pray for people before bed, but I’d throw in a little prayer for the Devil at the end, since I always felt sorry for him and thought it’d be nice if Hell could be closed for good. It seemed a rather nasty place for a benevolent God to have created at all, to be honest. It’d be better if it wasn’t a thing at all and the Devil could go home to be with his family again. (Oh dear, are my issues with my religious education showing again?)
Point being: I’m very, very biased. Or maybe I’ve just always had good taste. After all, it’s common knowledge amongst animators that the villains are the roles you want to animate for. There were grumbles amongst the staff who had to animate Aurora in Sleeping Beauty because she was notoriously difficult to keep on-model, dainty and blandly appealing. Meanwhile, the great Elenor Audley (also voice of the Evil Step-Mother in Cinderella) was tearing it up, paired with an animated performance from one the famed Nine Old Men, Marc Davis. Fellow Nines, Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, described her as "a difficult assignment but a thrilling one, working to that voice track with so much innuendo mixed in with the fierce power." Nearly every Disney Villain was a standout element of their films and often the most-studied performances for student animators. The delicious array of emotions and twisted expressions that flash across the faces of the caricatured Jafar, Ursula, Cruella, Dr. Facilier and Captain Hook far exceed the capacity of their heroes. One could argue that even these relatively flatly evil characters have within them a greater range of humanity than any of the other characters: they are allowed to show the negative traits other characters aren’t.
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| I love her. |
To me, the best villains are those who act on the impulses we all secretly have. Some motivations may seem bland - the desire for power, greed, revenge, to return scorn, etc. Yet they come from human places that, if fleshed out well enough, remind us of why vices are so tempting. Who hasn’t watched the news and felt so tired with incompetence and corruption in government and thought If I ran the world, there’d be a lot less of this bullpucky? Who hasn’t seen others flaunting their extreme wealth and wondered What could I do with such riches? What dreams or good could I accomplish? And who hasn’t felt wronged in some way and wished to level the playing field? I just want you to know what it feels like.
Superhero films have often been described as wish-fulfillment fantasies. It seems to me that it’s important to have the murky flipside of that looked at if you’re going to examine those fantasies critically. I’ve heard complaints about Marvel’s ‘Dark Mirror’ villains, but I don’t have a problem with the concept of a villain who reflects their hero to reveal potential negatives. The problem with the MCU’s mirrors is that they often resemble the characters in costume, but they are too shallow to be an ideological mirror. Thus the hero and their actions are never really tested or countered. They are not made to question themselves, to reflect on their own dark potential, and therefore make changes that better themselves and their heroism.
The best hero and villain pairings better each other. They create rivals who vie for the soul of story, and sometimes, the audience.
In The Dark Knight, Heath Ledger’s Joker confronts Batman’s vigilantism and subversion of law by supporting complete Anarchy. After all, if the law and its legal upholders aren’t good enough to a point where a man in a Halloween costume has to brutalize poor people to keep the peace - why have law at all? Joker’s faith in the inherent cannibalism of humanity clashes against Batman’s purported belief in hope, optimism and human decency. His actions test Bruce Wayne into crossing his moral lines - making the audience and the protagonists question Batman’s entire approach to heroism. The film goes on to explore further, still topical ideas of security versus privacy versus freedom of choice. All while the Joker gives a truly magnetic performance that manages to be both entertaining and thought-provoking.
Nurse Ratched’s love of order on pain of humiliation clashes with Randle McMurphy’s sense of spirited freedom and camaraderie. Their clash delineates the central themes of One Flew Over a Cuckoo’s Nest - how power over the lives of others can influence for help or for harm. It’s petty, corrupting bureaucracy failing to be adequate mental health treatment versus rebellious spirit and individualized care and empathy.
Schindler’s List supplies Amon Goeth, a Nazi whose fundamental lack of humanity allows him to use those in his ‘care’ for target practice, while Oskar Schindler comes to value every individual he saves so highly that the loss of a few potential more causes him unbearable heartbreak.
Heck, Marvel’s managed this before with the oft-quoted one exception to the bad villain rule, Loki - not once but twice. In the first Thor (2011) the titular character is a bit of brute who takes any affront to his dignity as an invitation to play whack-a-mole with his favourite toy - usually against beings he thinks of as either lesser or monstrous and unworthy of dignity. Loki’s dignity and sense of identity is utterly destroyed in the events of the film, and he responds by taking the same actions as Thor, but to a far more extreme degree, revealing the eventual genocidal end point of the road Thor was on. Both are characters trying to prove their worth and ‘Asgardianess’. Thor realizes that true strength comes not from destruction of what he hates and obsession with his own self-image and appearance, but from what he can do to lessen the suffering of others. He redefines his own self-worth so that he no longer needs veneration and fear to feel in control, and would gladly seek peace and reconciliation instead of battle. Loki becomes consumed by his loss of identity and falls into madness, seeing violence as the only way to gain respect and love. Ultimately we appreciate Thor’s growth all the more when we see how similar (if more extreme) challenges are also faced by another character who ultimately fails to overcome them.
Loki is again used in the Avengers, this time contrasting them as a group. The Avengers, despite attempts to divide them, eventually come together as a team (and somewhat surrogate family) to oppose an outside threat. As Nick Fury quipped in a quote that would become a major marketing tool for the eventual sequel: “There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people. To see if we could become something more.” Loki is divided from his family, unable to put aside his rivalry, and unwilling to believe he could ‘be something more’. Loki stands alone, his only help either mind-controlled drones incapable of dissent or a mysterious, dominating force beyond the stars he fears. His position not only gives the film emotional stakes, it also makes it all the sweeter when we see the Avengers succeed where he could not.
The rivalry between antagonist and protagonist is fundamental to the soul of a film. Narrative is often based on conflict, and without a compelling conflict you are left with a less-than-lustery film.
So, who is the villain in Ant-Man? A man by the name of Darren Cross, AKA Yellowjacket. Per MCU regulation he comes with the standard ‘evil’ version of the protagonist’s powers, namely a shrinking suit but with inhuman appendages to help make him appear more monstrous and less deserving of empathy. His connection to the protagonist is distant at best - there’s some quick exposition about how he took an internship with Hank Pym, the original Ant-Man, and felt slighted when Hank didn’t teach him what he knew. He doesn’t seem to have any connection to Scott Lang, the protagonist-apparent. His relationship with Hope van Dyne, Pym’s daughter, seems more promising - both feel that Hank kept secrets and knowledge from them, despite their sacrifices and love for him. This isn’t really explored, however, and can’t be said to be the main theme of the film. Instead, Darren Cross spends most of his time trying to sell shrinking suits to the secret Nazis (Heil Hydra) of the MCU and making very tiny messes out of very cute lambs.
Ant-Man seems to be a film about fathers and daughters (a nice change from the usual fathers and sons that can be found in nearly every other MCU film). Scott Lang feels like he failed his daughter by being in prison instead of being present in her life. Hank Pym has actively pushed his daughter out of his own life by failing to trust her with the truth of her mother’s (the original Wasp to his Ant-Man) disappearance. That’s all fine and dandy, but these two character arcs aren’t really the focus of the film either. Scott Lang actively endangers his daughter by making himself - and therefore his loved ones - a target for Yellowjacket, and yet he faces no repercussions for this. Instead, he’s bizarrely rewarded by being welcomed into his ex-wife’s family. All he’s done is save his daughter from a danger he created - how does that show personal growth on his part? Hope proves her competence to her father and he relents on his secrecy, reforging their bond. And yet that final beat of her receiving her mother’s costume is reserved for a post-credits scene; an addendum. The only real growth is from Pym, and even then it’s difficult to say how the plot of the film conspired to change his mind. There’s a beautifully acted scene where Hope tearfully confesses her feelings of isolation and betrayal to her father, stemming from her frustration with being second fiddle to the less-competent Scott. But as a moment, it feels disconnected from the larger threat of the film. There’s no sense that the fallout of that scene is going to affect the story in a large way.
Every emotional beat in this film lands a little flat simply because it’s difficult to connect it to the overarching story. Fighting a guy who wants to use shrinking technology as a military weapon has jag-all to do with an ex-con having trouble getting work and reconnecting with his family. One feels the film would be stronger without an antagonist at all. As it is, Darren Cross is just a jerk who kills sweet baby lambs and goes crazy, just so he can do illogical things in the climax for the sake of cool. Not even a specific kind of crazy. Just...whoops, he shrunk too much, now he’s no good at making sense. How convenient.
Imagine this hypothetical Ant-Man film I’m gonna pretentiously rewrite here. The largest change I’m going to make is to the villain’s motivation:
Scott Lang was a petty crook. During the financial crisis of 2008, his family was in danger of bankruptcy. He fell in with a bad crowd and stole to keep the lights on. He was arrested and prosecuted and served his time. He gets out of prison, wanting to go straight. However, thanks to the well-known problem of having to declare a criminal past on his job applications, he struggles to find work. Luis tries to tempt him back to a life of crime, saying that society just won’t forgive an ex-con, and he really has no other options. Hank Pym finds him and wants to use his criminal skills in conjunction with Pym tech to do the basic heist set-up of the film, as is. But in exchange, once he has control of his company back, he’ll hire Scott on for a legitimate career, ensuring he can pay child support for his daughter and lead an above-board life.
Now, for Darren Cross. First off, Cross has a daughter. That’s right, another daughter. We’re gonna make this a father-daughter superhero movie for the ages. I’m gonna call her Avery. Cross’ teenage daughter (putting her halfway between the ages of Cassie Lang and Hope) actually has a great relationship with her father. He’s rich, and so can provide for her - guaranteeing her future (Scott’s worry). He’s very close to her, and they both confide in each other. They have a mutual respect (what Hank lacks with Hope). Now we’ve humanized Cross and made him a kinda likable guy - sure, he’s a rich jerk, but he’s still a loving father who has something our protagonists lack. This also encourages sympathy for Hank and Scott, and connects both of them in an emotional way to the antagonist. He has what they want - and he came by it unfairly.
Unfairly how? Let’s say Darren got his wealth and control of Hank’s company through white collar crime. Thanks to his wealth and position, he was able to hire the best lawyers and avoid jail time, even as those who suffered for his swindling went unavenged.
Now we have a theme. Fathers and daughters, the desire to provide for one’s children - financially and emotionally - and the drastic class inequality when it comes to crime and punishment in America. Now THAT is a movie that would give me something to talk about. The sense of injustice an audience would feel to see Scott serve his time for his crimes and yet continue to be punished by society after release, even while those like Darren Cross, who did far more damage, get off scott-free would make Scott-not-so-free so much more compelling. That Hank, who earned his company and wealth with his intelligence and engineering, could have it stolen away by litigation by those who want to turn his life’s work into something that takes life? So frustrating! That Cross, their supposed enemy, treats his daughter with the respect and trust that Hope craves from her own father? Now we want these characters to rise up, be better, and cheer when they overcome their hurdles.
Through the events of the film, Cross’ white-collar crimes could be publicized, and as a result his daughter feels betrayed and lied to. She tells him she doesn’t want any of his ‘dirty money’ and that she never wants to see him again. All while the long arm of the law is forced to act, now that his crimes can’t be ignored or easily bribed away.
Now we have a reason for Cross to act unhinged - he’s had a severe emotional blow and feels like he has nothing left to lose. Unlike Scott, who’s worked for redemption and wants to find forgiveness and a way back into his daughter’s life, Darren falls into despair. Unlike Hank, who manages to have a heart-to-heart with Hope where they’re at last totally honest with each other and Hank reveals his guilt for her mother’s fate, Darren is convinced his daughter will never forgive him the truth. Darren decides he wants revenge, just like the original script - but now his targeting of Scott’s daughter makes an emotional sense. He wants to take away from Scott what he feels was taken away from him. In addition, I might add him taking Hank hostage and trapping him like he did the miniature lambs before. That pays off that rather macabre set-up, and is a nice inversion on the damsel-in-distress trope. Now he’s also taking away and imprisoning a father away from his daughter - what happened to Scott, and what he’s afraid is about to happen to himself. A little bit of poetry there.
Fight proceeds as before, only this time Scott is joined by a last-minute cavalry - Hope in the Wasp suit. Instead of being sidelined until a post-credits scene, now Hope gets to shine alongside Scott. A father and a daughter, kicking butt together. The father to save his daughter, the daughter to save her father. Things proceed as they do in the film, only instead of killing Yellowjacket, they break his mechanism for returning to normal size so he’s stuck at a few inches tall. After rescuing Hank first, of course. They then deliver Cross to the authorities in something humorous - like, say, Cassie’s dollhouse or an on-the-nose ant farm.
Scott can apologize to his ex-wife for putting her new family in danger, and she can realize that he’s contrite, but that the world is more difficult to navigate for him than before, and that he could use some forgiveness and compassion. That the villain attacked them at all is a twisted kind of proof that there's nothing more important to Scott than his daughter. Hank also makes good on getting him that new job. As for Hank and his daughter, Hope saving Hank from a terrible, shrinking fate is a nice parallel to how Hank failed to save Janet from hers. She’s proven that she can be a hero, and can maybe even succeed where he failed.
This also has the nice effect of not sidelining the female characters, and incorporates Wasp in a more fulfilling way (since in the original you’re left wondering why she isn’t the protagonist in the first place).
Finally, you can have a final scene of Avery Cross talking to her father in prison. They have a sweet conversation that maybe gives a little hope to their reconciliation. As a gift, she gives him some of her old miniature furniture, since his prison cell is currently still a dollhouse. Being that Ha-ha - but also, kinda sweet, and a bit of a role reversal. Now his kid daughter’s the one who has to take care of him. It’s a bit sad, but still touching, and a reminder of what age eventually does to us all.
And there we have it. By fixing the motivation of the villain, we’ve also
- Solidified the themes of the film - and made it about something topical and relevant
- Differentiated it from Iron Man by focusing on the Father-Daughter relationship instead of the military angle
- Created new opportunities for emotion
- Made it easier to root for Scott and Hank
- Made a villain people might actually remember, and kept him alive instead of giving him the original’s gruesome death in a child’s bedroom - I thought this was supposed to be a comedy?
- Incorporated female characters into the film in a more equal way
Now, I know making movies is a series of compromises, so it’s possible such ideas were had and lost while the project was masticated by the great Hollywood machine. Still, I feel like Marvel’s deliberate decision to weaken their antagonists has come at great cost to their protagonists, whether they realize it or not. Kevin Feige, the head of Marvel Studios, claimed to have Batman Returns and The Dark Knight on his mind when he said that DC put their efforts into their villains, so Marvel would put theirs on their heroes. I get it, Batman was barely in Returns and The Dark Knight was dominated by Heath Ledger’s performance of a lifetime as the Joker. But those flaws are just that - flaws. (Also Batman is a terrible character who deserves to be sidelined in his own films come at me) It’s not a knock on the concept of a well-written antagonist - a well-written antagonist’s job is to make a good story alongside the hero. If your villain, should you choose to have one, is weak and confused, so, too, will the conflict between him and your hero be. You’ll be left with a weak and confused film.
Like, unfortunately, Ant-Man is.
Better luck next time...
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