After
decades of terrible forays into the movie world, Marvel Comics kicked
off a full-scale assault on Hollywood in 2000 with X-Men, based on
the popular comic book about young mutant heroes and anti-heroes who
set out to rescue humanity despite the incessant prejudice they face
from the very people they’re rescuing.
Directed by ensemble wunderkind Bryan Singer (The Usual Suspects,
Apt Pupil), the film’s plot is driven by the interplay of two
incredibly powerful, elder mutants: the “good” Professor
X (Patrick and Stewart) and the “evil” Magneto (Ian McKellen).
The presence of these two incredible actors gives X-Men the backbone
it needs to deliver on its ridiculously high drama. Ian McKellen smolders
as the “Master of Magnetism,” and he succeeds in giving
depth and multidimensionality to his anti-hero of a comic book villain.
Patrick Stewart plays Professor X by the numbers, and he never misses
a beat.
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| "I
brake for leather daddies." |
Of
course, two old men blasting each other does not a cool movie make.
The heart of the movie is expressed through the X-Men, the young
mutants (most are adolescents) who’ve been taken into Professor
X’s School for the Gifted where they are educated and trained
how best to use their supernatural gifts. The script primarily focuses
on the wild berserker Wolverine (played with incendiary charisma
by Hugh Jackman—a perfectly cast no-name back in 2000) and
the enigmatic Rogue (Anna Paquin, in a solid, compelling performance).
The relationship of Wolverine and Rogue is where X-Men really finds
its voice. The beauty of the superhero genre is its ability to take
hyperbolic personalities and use them to dramatize the human condition
on a scale that is both epic and unsettling. Wolverine, the unstoppable
masculine force of frenzied violence, meets Rogue, an introverted
young girl whose very touch steals a man’s life energy. Her
presence calms the beast, making him a protector... but when she
is endangered, it arouses his most terrifying ferocity. Their dynamic
drives the story’s thesis, that mutants are more human than
human (much respect to Philip K. Dick, Stanley Kubrick, and Rob
Zombie).
The ensemble behind these four leads grows increasingly weaker each
step from the principals. James Marsden’s Cyclops is wishy-washy,
Famke Janssen’s Jean Grey is listless, and Halle Berry is
an abomination as Storm. A friend of mine made a strong argument
for Angela Bassett as Storm... and even if she is a bit old for
the role, I hear his point. She would truly have the onscreen power
to depict Storm; the African Goddess, descendent of African Priestesses.
Halle Berry’s Storm has shiny eyes and a nice rack—which,
I understand, was important for getting boners in the theater. But,
honestly, I don’t understand people’s fascination with
Halle. For more on how much she sucks, see my upcoming rant against
Monster’s Ball.
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I
never knew blue alien-looking
chicks could be so fucking HOT! |
The
film’s biggest flaw is the utter nonchalance of the choices
in Magneto’s henchmen. Sabretooth and Toad are useless caricatures,
at best forgettable at worst annoying. The one shining star here,
though, is the unexpectedly stellar performance by Rebecca Romijn-Stamos
as Mystique, one of the few instances where the movie actually improves
on the comic book. Mystique is not only superb in X-Men, but she
comes across even better in X2, where she rivals Gollum in Two Towers
for best improvement on a character through adaptation.
The film is also full of holes... like, how is it that Magneto uses
his powers to bend Wolverine’s claws, but in the next scene
they’ve apparently snapped back to normal. Crap like that,
which, in my humble opinion, is perfectly acceptable in an over-the-top
thrill ride like this where suspension of disbelief is left at the
door.
With X-Men, Marvel rekindled the glory of the proud and unashamed
B-movie. Although it paved the way for Marvel’s follow-ups
with Spiderman, Daredevil and the forthcoming Hulk, Punisher, and
Ghost Rider, its grandeur has yet to be equaled (except possibly
by its own sequel). High concept, big budget, ludicrously plotted,
and ridiculously characterized, the movie is an exercise in sincere
and heartfelt over-indulgence. It’s more than a guilty pleasure...
it’s guilty art.
(Click
Here for DVD's Technical Specs)
TALIBANO
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