Why Do We Like Marvel Movies?
Thoughts On: The Attraction of the MCU
A spoiler-free review of Avengers: Endgame.
Though I'm certain to see each new Marvel movie, I'm far from a fan of the Marvel works. To the casual and serious fans, my reasoning is likely entirely uninteresting. From a narrative and cinematic perspective, however, I cannot help becoming conscious of how poorly the majority of the Marvel movies communicate with the archetypal senses. This is something that became increasingly apparent to me with Infinity War.
Infinity War is a strong expression of the Marvel style; these films exist on the boarder between tyhlodrama and morodrama. Their fundamental purpose is to manifest conventionalised, contrived narrative fantasies (melodramas) suppressed and contained by inflections of realism. We can rationalise this assertion with the simple realisation that, though Marvel movies are about magic, aliens, monsters and impossible technology, they consistently work to ground these fantastical notions in a familiar reality. This realist suppression is embedded in world design, sound tracks, comedy and themes - all of which reference earth and humans in such a way that the fantastical becomes associated with the mundane and familiar. Melodramas are not concerned with such things. There is a self-reflexivity embedded into the Marvel films that signifies that their dramatic construction is not entirely subsumed in typhlos, but instead has many morodramatic elements. This is evident in the comedic style that allowed Marvel to, arguably, become the Marvel we know more than 10 years after their sardonic break-out blockbuster: Iron Man. Morodrama thrives off the perturbance of melodramatic construction. Comedies commonly use morodrama to create laughs by exploiting convention, pushing melodramatic material into a self-reflexive space of critique and the uncanny. Marvel do this constantly, not only suppressing their melodramatic constructs with realism, but further mocking them--pointing a finger at melodramatic contrivance as to generate comedy. This is why Marvel are so grating, in my opinion, in their construction of tragedy. Far too often, serious scenes are subverted by comedy. A good examples emerges from Infinity War when Gamora asks Quill to promise to kill her before turning her over to Thanos. The scene is entered comedically, then there is a moment of seriousness, but it is transitioned away from quickly with relief from the absurd antics of Drax. This is the dramatic style and approach of Marvel movies, and it works for the most part. Alas, when tragic scenes are to be presented without accompanying, subverting comedy, they manifest as rather flat and unenganging.
It is not too rare to see and hear people cry in Marvel movies - the recent Endgame especially. But, this is a reaction I do not understand very well. Audiences clearly have a strong connection with these films and characters, in large part due to the fact that blockbusters - especially those of the superhero variety - are not mere movies anymore; they are instead just one face of a multimedia storytelling machine. An off-shoot of the serial film's and television's narrative conventional ethos, the Marvel Cinematic Universe embraces the infinite story, exploring not the limiting capacities of narrative creation, but the unlimited capacities, telling as much of a story possible as apposed to identifying a constrained space and time of maximal expression. This narrative phenomenon has become of extreme interest to me of late. Stories are constructed by elimination almost as much as they are selection, which is to say that as important as a writer/director's decision to show something is their decision not to show something. This manifestation of what you might describe in terms of fabula and syuzhet is crucial. The limiting of the infinite story can be understood as, to invent another one of my terms, ragnarrarok, or narrative ragnarok - ragnarok being the fate of the reigning power; narrare, telling; ragnarrarok, the fate of the telling's rule. As in Norse myth, fate and an inevitable end give meaning to a narrative. It is in my opinion that the over-embrace of the infinite story can be detrimental to this meaning-making process. One finds this to be true in the MCU.
It is because the MCU is constructed as an endless story, a multimedia storytelling device, that it generates a certain affect, but not one based upon self-evident meaning. We deal now with a question of why people like Marvel movies. Drawing from anecdote, it seems to me that the key reason as to why audiences are drawn to Marvel movies has much to do with comic books. This is why I suggest that there is no self-evident meaning in the Marvel movies. If the characters are of meaning because of their basis in comic books, then what is the place of the films? They seem only to channel meaning generated elsewhere into a space of spectacle. Hence the concept of 'fan service'. This concept suggests that the meaning of many Marvel movies is not generated internally, but is appropriated, packaged for pleasure to those preloaded to receive it. This cannot be the whole story though. There must be many Marvel movie fans who have never read the comics - especially those of a young age. In the case of children born around and after 2000, the first contact they may have had with superheros may have been through the medium of cinema, not comic books. This is certainly the case with myself. I knew of Hulk, Batman, Spider-Man and Superman only because of movies made in the 90s and 2000s. I can identify meaning emerging from those films. True, none of them are part of the MCU and all operate with different dramatic, modal, logical and stylistic constraints. Alas, the characters and meaning in these films are not, in my perspective, mere appropriations. It seems rational that young audience members may feel the same about the MCU. Maybe then we must infer that the first contact with these characters is what is of most meaning. Maybe this is true, but there's something more specific occurring.
Marvel movies centralise character as something estimating spectacle. Their characters are also high concepts. It is this that seems to ring out of each Marvel movie above all else; a spectacle of character as concept. We love characters like the Hulk less because of the character's unveiling of the shadow archetype, more because of his implication of such a phenomenon. This is where drama becomes pertinent. As an archetypal figure, the Hulk does not create meaning specific to his symbolic presence. Let us pause a minute to clarify some presuppositions of narrative archetype theory.
It is because an archetype bears something of fundamental meaning, meaning bore by the way of nature itself, that it generates affect. This meaning is accentuated with the development of drama by and around character. When an archetype walks an archetypal story, the formula is then complete and maximal affect (dependent on the quality of the archetypal narrative) is manifested.
Marvel characters are archetypes, but they do not walk the archetypal path - not well. DC characters, interestingly, are more visibly archetypal and, often, walk archetypal paths. The contextualisation of this path is often embarrassingly poor, however. Alas, in the case of Marvel movies, the archetypal path is not really there. Marvel movies distract themselves with the demands of typhlo and morodrama; with realism and self-reflexivity. This means that Hulk may appear as the archetypal shadow, Mr. Hyde to Dr. Jekyll, but his symbolic presence as such a figure does not translate well at all to his character arcs and place in a plot or situation among certain themes. As a result, the initial interface that spectators have with these characters is of meaning - we recognise the archetype - but the narrativisation of their internally held meaning is not functional. To the inactive spectator, especially one being serviced a bevy of characters and objects as concepts, this means little. Therefore, Marvel is as popular as it is. It is not just that the brand thrives off of fan service, but that they service fans by drowning them in a spectacle of character-concepts. That is to say that Marvel movies are a world full of entities that represent a thought of 'wouldn't it be awesome if...' To better clarify, Marvel movies function because they present their audience with possibility. This is why there are so many of these films and the infinite story over-embraced. Important not is the quality of a given story, but the possibilities it realises and the possibilities it further implicates. This is what Marvel works off - the momentum of potential.
This is an increasingly common phenomenon. Transformers, Pacific Rim and Godzilla are three prime examples of cinematic universes or series that are based entirely upon potential. Like the Marvel movies, they have archetypal presences within them - spectacular character-concepts - whose mere implication sell the film. Wouldn't it be awesome of there were giant robot aliens who... Wouldn't it be awesome if humans could operate giant robot suits of armour and... Wouldn't it be awesome if there were ancient, megalithic creature who... These are the questions that sell the movies mentioned. These questions are more often than not left inane due to the failing of writers. They fail to manifest narratives worthy of such character-concepts. This is why we are quick to say that the likes of Transformers sucks. However, what the writers and directors do manage to do with these films is answer, to some satisfactory degree, audiences' what if questions and, furthermore, generate more questions in their minds. We are all familiar with this. Think of the cliche: tune in next week to find out what happens next. Of course there is some importance placed upon an audience caring to know what could happen next week in a television show, but, one cannot underestimate the importance of there simply being a next week. When a TV show or movie series has a concept strong enough, such as a Hulk or Transformer, finding out what can happen next week alone can be enough to necessitate the next episode (or next movie). One finds this to be the case, most blatantly, with the Transformer films. (I have a soft spot for these and find them intensely fascinating, but...) The Transformer films are almost universally accepted to be bad in some capacity. Despite this fact, they just keep coming. Quality does not matter too much. The fact that a Transformer film can exist is enough. This is the case with Marvel movies to some significant degree. They are not constructed like the Transformer films and so do not have the same narrative and formal issues, but their fundamental operations are almost identical.
Marvel, in my view, are so successful precisely because they find a balance between fulfilling promises, implicating further promises of possibility and generating meaning of minor substance. It is almost enough that they can just throw characters like Captain America, Iron Man and Spiderman on a screen. Alas, they push just a little further. Marvel movies all have meaning, but its archetypal character is very limited. Marvel constantly subvert their own symbolism for signification. That is to say, Marvel filmmakers, the Russo brothers and Joss Whedon in particular, know only how to make a stories out of signs - they do not know how to work with symbols. This seems to be why all Marvel movie directors, apart from a select few, are all--more or less--pawns of the studio. I am about to be quite a dick and highly elitist, but those who direct Marvel movies aren't just new talent. Look into the filmographies of John Favreau, Peyton Reed, Jon Watts, Alan Taylor, Joss Whedon, Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck, James Gunn, Scott Derrickson and Kenneth Branagh and you will struggle to find a good film, let alone a respectable body of work. Cop Car, Sinister and Half Nelson are rather good films, that must be said. But, how many other good movies can be listed as predating (even proceeding) these directors' Marvel careers? In my estimation Taika Waititi has a somewhat respectable filmography - it is not excellent, however. And Ryan Coogler was certainly thrown into the deep end after his Fruitvale Station, but has never made a bad film - in fact, his Black Panther may be the only Marvel movie exempt of much of the criticism I am writing at present. Beyond this, Marvel movies are made by filmmakers, who, to put it frankly, show no real capacity to tell good stories. The Russo brothers, who have clearly found the most success working under Marvel, are those who best understand the game they are to play; sell character, sell potential, contrive minimally substantial meaning.
The measurement of a good storyteller is their ability to use their work to position the human spectator among a communication between the collective unconscious, reality and the transcendent. Marvel directors show no real ability to do this for the most part. Thus, they have no capacity for symbolism and archetypes. Instead, they, as suggested, use signs. They use signs to superficially facilitate a communication between reality and the collective unconscious. The unconscious recognises archetypes; it is not fed an archetypal narrative, however. The spectator instead engages minor ruminations on political affairs. Therefore, the drama under so many Marvel movies concerns humanism, feminism and a general libertarian debate on ethics. I criticise not the political and ideological discourse associated with these films, nor even the evocation of them - I care not to engage this at all; if Marvel wish to make humanist and feminist exclamations, that's fine - at present it is rather irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is the lack of something more. If one looks to Captain Marvel, there seems to be something feminist about the film, but, more importantly, there is a lack of cogent meaning-making. What is Captain Marvel about? Realising inner-strength? How weakly this is dramatised. The same could be discussed in regards to Civil War. This is about the greater good and the personal good. The debate is most certainly made reference to, but its dramatisation via a conflict between pseudo-character-symbols is weak. And this is all because Marvel movies have no control and command of symbolism. They are built to fail in this regard. Their narrative meaning develops no satisfactory discourse with the collective unconscious; we are satisfied not just by good triumphing over evil - more is required, more of fundamental abstract meaning. It is not absurd to ask for just a little subtle profundity - not if one understands the mundanity of the profound.
More may be discussed on all of the topics referenced today, but let this serve as my spoiler-free review of Endgame. Endgame is limited just like so many Marvel movies are. Nonetheless it is watchable. I will say no more than this. What are your thoughts on all we've covered today?
Previous post:
Pet Sematary - A Tragic Failure
Next post:
The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy - Power As Goodness
More from me:
amazon.com/author/danielslack
A spoiler-free review of Avengers: Endgame.
Though I'm certain to see each new Marvel movie, I'm far from a fan of the Marvel works. To the casual and serious fans, my reasoning is likely entirely uninteresting. From a narrative and cinematic perspective, however, I cannot help becoming conscious of how poorly the majority of the Marvel movies communicate with the archetypal senses. This is something that became increasingly apparent to me with Infinity War.
Infinity War is a strong expression of the Marvel style; these films exist on the boarder between tyhlodrama and morodrama. Their fundamental purpose is to manifest conventionalised, contrived narrative fantasies (melodramas) suppressed and contained by inflections of realism. We can rationalise this assertion with the simple realisation that, though Marvel movies are about magic, aliens, monsters and impossible technology, they consistently work to ground these fantastical notions in a familiar reality. This realist suppression is embedded in world design, sound tracks, comedy and themes - all of which reference earth and humans in such a way that the fantastical becomes associated with the mundane and familiar. Melodramas are not concerned with such things. There is a self-reflexivity embedded into the Marvel films that signifies that their dramatic construction is not entirely subsumed in typhlos, but instead has many morodramatic elements. This is evident in the comedic style that allowed Marvel to, arguably, become the Marvel we know more than 10 years after their sardonic break-out blockbuster: Iron Man. Morodrama thrives off the perturbance of melodramatic construction. Comedies commonly use morodrama to create laughs by exploiting convention, pushing melodramatic material into a self-reflexive space of critique and the uncanny. Marvel do this constantly, not only suppressing their melodramatic constructs with realism, but further mocking them--pointing a finger at melodramatic contrivance as to generate comedy. This is why Marvel are so grating, in my opinion, in their construction of tragedy. Far too often, serious scenes are subverted by comedy. A good examples emerges from Infinity War when Gamora asks Quill to promise to kill her before turning her over to Thanos. The scene is entered comedically, then there is a moment of seriousness, but it is transitioned away from quickly with relief from the absurd antics of Drax. This is the dramatic style and approach of Marvel movies, and it works for the most part. Alas, when tragic scenes are to be presented without accompanying, subverting comedy, they manifest as rather flat and unenganging.
It is not too rare to see and hear people cry in Marvel movies - the recent Endgame especially. But, this is a reaction I do not understand very well. Audiences clearly have a strong connection with these films and characters, in large part due to the fact that blockbusters - especially those of the superhero variety - are not mere movies anymore; they are instead just one face of a multimedia storytelling machine. An off-shoot of the serial film's and television's narrative conventional ethos, the Marvel Cinematic Universe embraces the infinite story, exploring not the limiting capacities of narrative creation, but the unlimited capacities, telling as much of a story possible as apposed to identifying a constrained space and time of maximal expression. This narrative phenomenon has become of extreme interest to me of late. Stories are constructed by elimination almost as much as they are selection, which is to say that as important as a writer/director's decision to show something is their decision not to show something. This manifestation of what you might describe in terms of fabula and syuzhet is crucial. The limiting of the infinite story can be understood as, to invent another one of my terms, ragnarrarok, or narrative ragnarok - ragnarok being the fate of the reigning power; narrare, telling; ragnarrarok, the fate of the telling's rule. As in Norse myth, fate and an inevitable end give meaning to a narrative. It is in my opinion that the over-embrace of the infinite story can be detrimental to this meaning-making process. One finds this to be true in the MCU.
It is because the MCU is constructed as an endless story, a multimedia storytelling device, that it generates a certain affect, but not one based upon self-evident meaning. We deal now with a question of why people like Marvel movies. Drawing from anecdote, it seems to me that the key reason as to why audiences are drawn to Marvel movies has much to do with comic books. This is why I suggest that there is no self-evident meaning in the Marvel movies. If the characters are of meaning because of their basis in comic books, then what is the place of the films? They seem only to channel meaning generated elsewhere into a space of spectacle. Hence the concept of 'fan service'. This concept suggests that the meaning of many Marvel movies is not generated internally, but is appropriated, packaged for pleasure to those preloaded to receive it. This cannot be the whole story though. There must be many Marvel movie fans who have never read the comics - especially those of a young age. In the case of children born around and after 2000, the first contact they may have had with superheros may have been through the medium of cinema, not comic books. This is certainly the case with myself. I knew of Hulk, Batman, Spider-Man and Superman only because of movies made in the 90s and 2000s. I can identify meaning emerging from those films. True, none of them are part of the MCU and all operate with different dramatic, modal, logical and stylistic constraints. Alas, the characters and meaning in these films are not, in my perspective, mere appropriations. It seems rational that young audience members may feel the same about the MCU. Maybe then we must infer that the first contact with these characters is what is of most meaning. Maybe this is true, but there's something more specific occurring.
Marvel movies centralise character as something estimating spectacle. Their characters are also high concepts. It is this that seems to ring out of each Marvel movie above all else; a spectacle of character as concept. We love characters like the Hulk less because of the character's unveiling of the shadow archetype, more because of his implication of such a phenomenon. This is where drama becomes pertinent. As an archetypal figure, the Hulk does not create meaning specific to his symbolic presence. Let us pause a minute to clarify some presuppositions of narrative archetype theory.
It is because an archetype bears something of fundamental meaning, meaning bore by the way of nature itself, that it generates affect. This meaning is accentuated with the development of drama by and around character. When an archetype walks an archetypal story, the formula is then complete and maximal affect (dependent on the quality of the archetypal narrative) is manifested.
Marvel characters are archetypes, but they do not walk the archetypal path - not well. DC characters, interestingly, are more visibly archetypal and, often, walk archetypal paths. The contextualisation of this path is often embarrassingly poor, however. Alas, in the case of Marvel movies, the archetypal path is not really there. Marvel movies distract themselves with the demands of typhlo and morodrama; with realism and self-reflexivity. This means that Hulk may appear as the archetypal shadow, Mr. Hyde to Dr. Jekyll, but his symbolic presence as such a figure does not translate well at all to his character arcs and place in a plot or situation among certain themes. As a result, the initial interface that spectators have with these characters is of meaning - we recognise the archetype - but the narrativisation of their internally held meaning is not functional. To the inactive spectator, especially one being serviced a bevy of characters and objects as concepts, this means little. Therefore, Marvel is as popular as it is. It is not just that the brand thrives off of fan service, but that they service fans by drowning them in a spectacle of character-concepts. That is to say that Marvel movies are a world full of entities that represent a thought of 'wouldn't it be awesome if...' To better clarify, Marvel movies function because they present their audience with possibility. This is why there are so many of these films and the infinite story over-embraced. Important not is the quality of a given story, but the possibilities it realises and the possibilities it further implicates. This is what Marvel works off - the momentum of potential.
This is an increasingly common phenomenon. Transformers, Pacific Rim and Godzilla are three prime examples of cinematic universes or series that are based entirely upon potential. Like the Marvel movies, they have archetypal presences within them - spectacular character-concepts - whose mere implication sell the film. Wouldn't it be awesome of there were giant robot aliens who... Wouldn't it be awesome if humans could operate giant robot suits of armour and... Wouldn't it be awesome if there were ancient, megalithic creature who... These are the questions that sell the movies mentioned. These questions are more often than not left inane due to the failing of writers. They fail to manifest narratives worthy of such character-concepts. This is why we are quick to say that the likes of Transformers sucks. However, what the writers and directors do manage to do with these films is answer, to some satisfactory degree, audiences' what if questions and, furthermore, generate more questions in their minds. We are all familiar with this. Think of the cliche: tune in next week to find out what happens next. Of course there is some importance placed upon an audience caring to know what could happen next week in a television show, but, one cannot underestimate the importance of there simply being a next week. When a TV show or movie series has a concept strong enough, such as a Hulk or Transformer, finding out what can happen next week alone can be enough to necessitate the next episode (or next movie). One finds this to be the case, most blatantly, with the Transformer films. (I have a soft spot for these and find them intensely fascinating, but...) The Transformer films are almost universally accepted to be bad in some capacity. Despite this fact, they just keep coming. Quality does not matter too much. The fact that a Transformer film can exist is enough. This is the case with Marvel movies to some significant degree. They are not constructed like the Transformer films and so do not have the same narrative and formal issues, but their fundamental operations are almost identical.
Marvel, in my view, are so successful precisely because they find a balance between fulfilling promises, implicating further promises of possibility and generating meaning of minor substance. It is almost enough that they can just throw characters like Captain America, Iron Man and Spiderman on a screen. Alas, they push just a little further. Marvel movies all have meaning, but its archetypal character is very limited. Marvel constantly subvert their own symbolism for signification. That is to say, Marvel filmmakers, the Russo brothers and Joss Whedon in particular, know only how to make a stories out of signs - they do not know how to work with symbols. This seems to be why all Marvel movie directors, apart from a select few, are all--more or less--pawns of the studio. I am about to be quite a dick and highly elitist, but those who direct Marvel movies aren't just new talent. Look into the filmographies of John Favreau, Peyton Reed, Jon Watts, Alan Taylor, Joss Whedon, Anna Boden, Ryan Fleck, James Gunn, Scott Derrickson and Kenneth Branagh and you will struggle to find a good film, let alone a respectable body of work. Cop Car, Sinister and Half Nelson are rather good films, that must be said. But, how many other good movies can be listed as predating (even proceeding) these directors' Marvel careers? In my estimation Taika Waititi has a somewhat respectable filmography - it is not excellent, however. And Ryan Coogler was certainly thrown into the deep end after his Fruitvale Station, but has never made a bad film - in fact, his Black Panther may be the only Marvel movie exempt of much of the criticism I am writing at present. Beyond this, Marvel movies are made by filmmakers, who, to put it frankly, show no real capacity to tell good stories. The Russo brothers, who have clearly found the most success working under Marvel, are those who best understand the game they are to play; sell character, sell potential, contrive minimally substantial meaning.
The measurement of a good storyteller is their ability to use their work to position the human spectator among a communication between the collective unconscious, reality and the transcendent. Marvel directors show no real ability to do this for the most part. Thus, they have no capacity for symbolism and archetypes. Instead, they, as suggested, use signs. They use signs to superficially facilitate a communication between reality and the collective unconscious. The unconscious recognises archetypes; it is not fed an archetypal narrative, however. The spectator instead engages minor ruminations on political affairs. Therefore, the drama under so many Marvel movies concerns humanism, feminism and a general libertarian debate on ethics. I criticise not the political and ideological discourse associated with these films, nor even the evocation of them - I care not to engage this at all; if Marvel wish to make humanist and feminist exclamations, that's fine - at present it is rather irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is the lack of something more. If one looks to Captain Marvel, there seems to be something feminist about the film, but, more importantly, there is a lack of cogent meaning-making. What is Captain Marvel about? Realising inner-strength? How weakly this is dramatised. The same could be discussed in regards to Civil War. This is about the greater good and the personal good. The debate is most certainly made reference to, but its dramatisation via a conflict between pseudo-character-symbols is weak. And this is all because Marvel movies have no control and command of symbolism. They are built to fail in this regard. Their narrative meaning develops no satisfactory discourse with the collective unconscious; we are satisfied not just by good triumphing over evil - more is required, more of fundamental abstract meaning. It is not absurd to ask for just a little subtle profundity - not if one understands the mundanity of the profound.
More may be discussed on all of the topics referenced today, but let this serve as my spoiler-free review of Endgame. Endgame is limited just like so many Marvel movies are. Nonetheless it is watchable. I will say no more than this. What are your thoughts on all we've covered today?
Previous post:
Pet Sematary - A Tragic Failure
Next post:
The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy - Power As Goodness
More from me:
amazon.com/author/danielslack
