It’s here. One of the most impressive cinematic feats in the history of film — the capstone of a ten-year cycle of eighteen interrelated films. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has built such a gallery of heroes that they can pick and choose whomever they want for this party. The MCU also has an impressive track record when it comes to set-piece action scenes. Does Infinity War bring together all the threads of the series into the greatest sweater ever knit, a flawless action extravaganza to satisfy even the most rabid fan? Well, kinda.
Mild spoilers follow. Massive spoilers at the end of this thing, but there’ll be a big warning.
There’s a lot of running in this movie
The action itself is peerless. I won’t analyze each action scene, mostly because I lost track, but after a decade of practice the people behind the MCU really know how to put superhero powers on display. There’s a particular scene in which War Machine hovers above the combat, every doodad and whatsit on that over-soldered monstrosity deployed, raining hellfire — an apotheosis of violence and spectacle so pure that it becomes art. Dr. Strange is also impressive — of all the heroes, he seems the one most able to go toe to toe with Thanos with an inventive mystic arsenal. Iron Man has built himself some type of nano-suit (that suit has got to be his midlife-crisis Camaro, the way he won’t stop tinkering with it) whose flexibility and cache of new weaponry lends a pleasant variety to any Iron Man scenes.
Too Much of a Great Thing
The film doesn’t take long to run into a problem anyone who has made the mistake of eating a pizza by themselves is intimately familiar with — two slices are amazing, five is folly, and the whole pie is just exhaustion and regret. The film creates action exhaustion after about forty-five minutes. Each fight is amazing, the culmination of ten years of careful buildup, but like, all at once? Right now? For Christ’s sake, put some in the fridge for breakfast tomorrow. The high-stakes action-adventure explosionism almost completely shoves out any part of the movie that might be described as character-driven. Sure, it’s there, each marquee hero gets five minutes with the person s/he cares about to build narrative tension, but then they just run off to punch things. Punch things in an innovative, entertaining, incredible way, but still just punch things. The directors are aware of this — they insert a bit of comedy when, in the ultimate battle, Captain America sees Thor for the first time in years and they exchange a rushed hey-how-you-doing bro greeting before they have to get back to punching (again, amazing punching. Tremendous punching. Punching like you wouldn’t believe…but still, just punching). Take Black Panther for comparison. That film had the same great punch choreography, but it was also primarily character-driven. T’Challa was driven by the loss of a father and doubt of the legacy of his family and his country, and Killmonger was driven by a rage and pain beaten into him over decades. When the two of them meet, it’s about more than their fists. It’s really not in Infinity War. It’s about Thanos.
Never Trust a Man with a Big Magic Glove
Well, it’s not so much about Thanos as it is about stopping Thanos. He gets a few shreds of backstory like everyone else, but the problem is that while the other characters have ten years of worldbuilding stiffening them, Thanos is just that guy who wants to kill half of the universe, because trauma. There was a planet or something, who cares. Hey, did you see his Big Magic Glove?
Fighting Thanos is only a couple steps above fighting the literal abstract concept of death, which isn’t such a popcorn-eating dynamic. The best movies have antagonists who are as fully developed as the heroes (cf. Black Panther). Thanos is none of that. He’s “oh god oh god we’re all gonna die!” poured into a purple CGI suit. Come on, even his name — Thanatos is the Greek god of death.
Anyway, Thanos sucks as a villain, but again, it’s still a lot of fun to watch people punch him. Tony Stark and Dr. Strange banter a bit, then punch Thanos. Tony and Spider-Man banter, and then they both punch Thanos. It’s all great summer blockbuster fare, but it feels formulaic, and it’s a shame because the very best of the MCU movies manage to rise above that.
I’ll use my infinite power to remake the universe, but first could you open this jar of pickles for me?
Not only is Thanos a hollow character, but his main weapon makes no sense. The Infinity Gauntlet is a great concept — it harnesses the power of the Infinity Stones, giving the bearer ultimate power over every aspect of existence so long as they have all the stones. The problem is, even without the gauntlet being complete, having just a few stones (which Thanos has for most of the movie) should make him unbeatable. One example: the Reality Stone gives the bearer the power to alter reality. When all the assembled heroes are wailing on him in the climax, why doesn’t he just change the reality to one where he’s not repeatedly getting punched in his big purple face? When he used the Power Stone to throw a moon at Iron Man, why didn’t he just hit Iron Man directly with enough force to liquefy his bones? Oh? Because there’d be no movie then? Fair enough, but whenever that’s the excuse it takes something away from the narrative.
Massive Spoilers Follow — View Movie Before Proceeding
Also, the way the ending shakes out means the stakes are meaningless. Thanos succeeds and uses his Big Magic Glove to wipe half of the people in the universe out of existence. They just disintegrate into nothingness, including half of the assembled superheroes. If Captain America and Iron Man died, there would be actual concern about whether they’d come back or not. The people who died though already have other movies slated for release. Spider-Man and Dr. Strange, each of whom have just one solo entry in the MCU? T’Challa, the lead for one of the most wildly successful movies in the entire series? No. Their dust hadn’t even hit the ground before it was obvious they would be resurrected, which will be a pretty cheap way to start the next movie, right up there with “it was all a dream!”
The movie is definitely an achievement, and if you’re not a sourpuss you’ll enjoy it. The sheer scope of the film — tying together the disparate threads of eighteen other movies — is impressive, but the frame holding everything together starts creaking by the end. The lack of human, character-driven action at the center of the movie makes it feel so clearly like a constructed thing, a work of artifice. The unrelatable villain who wields a power with no rules and whose ultimate success exists just to give superheroes something to undo in the sequel doesn’t help the situation. It’s not the best sweater ever made, but it’ll still keep you warm. It’s just one arm is shorter than the other, and the bottom hem is unraveling. Ah well. It was a well-done action blockbuster, and seeing Captain America run around with a beard and long hair is, by itself, worth the ticket price.