Walking out of Ant-Man, my oldest engaged me in the following conversation:
“Whadja think, Dad?”
“It was fine.”
“Why didn’t you like it?”
“I did like it. It was fine.”
“But not good. What was wrong with it?”
“Nothing. It was fine.”
It really was fine.
It starred Michael Douglas and Paul Rudd, both of whom are always
welcome presences. It featured solid
supporting work from Evangeline Lilly, Corey Stoll, Bobby Cannavale, Judy Greer,
and especially Michael Peña. I laughed at the jokes. I grooved to the visuals. I lost track of time.
However, Ant-Man
never entirely captured my imagination. It
set itself up as a caper movie, then paid off the caper at the end of the
second act and segued into just another superhero fistfight picture. Granted, Ant-Man
has some fun with this trope by setting the fight on a toy train (the
combatants are ant-sized, after all).
However, this just led me to wonder why the villain’s laser beams blow
up the train set’s wooden models, as opposed to simply burning holes through
them. Were the models filled with gunpowder
and gasoline? Who makes toys like
that? And at what point were we supposed
to find dog-sized (relative to the protagonist) ants charming, instead of
revolting and scary?
Perhaps I’m tiring of the genre for the same reason I never
got into superhero comics in the first place.
The outfits and motivations may change from title to title, but they all
seem to boil down to the same thing: men in silly costumes punching one
another. I’d just as soon watch one of
the better Rocky movies.
That said, the actors *are* fun to watch. The jokes *do* land. The visuals *are* cool. I really did lose track of time. Ant Man
is by no means a bad movie. It’s
pleasant. It’s fun.
I liked it.
It was fine.
