After how chock-full the cinemas have been with Marvel and DC adaptations over the last several years, it feels like we’re currently going through withdrawal as a result of the COVID schedule shuffle. Or, at the very least, I seem to be, as while Birds Of Prey appeased that appetite for a while, I think I’ve been taking for granted just how prevalent this genre has become, now that there isn’t nearly as much of the new stuff coming in. As such, much like with pretty much all things cinematic this year, I’ve turned to streaming services to get my fix, and I stumbled upon this little number. And man oh man, what a hit this is.
The original comic book series this was adapted from is essentially a microcosm of everything that makes writer Greg Rucka such an enduring talent in the industry. The clever blending of street-level framing and action with high-concept mythologising of superheroes, the endlessly empathetic characterisation, not to mention his penchant for highlighting female and/or queer characters whenever possible (Renee Montoya’s depiction in BOP is largely a result of the work Rucka has done with her over the years); it may not be the best ever example of his work (not when compared to Batwoman or Gotham Central or Wonder Woman or even Final Crisis: Revelations), but it’s a solid primer for his methodology.
The adaptation of that work, done by Rucka himself, stays largely truthful to the source material, showing a group of immortal mercenaries and their mission to try and make this wretched Earth a better place by their actions. However, it is very akin to the treatment of Mark Millar’s work on the big screen, as a lot of the more apathetic and even misanthropic aspects of the original have sanded down ever so slightly. Except here, as opposed to something like Kick-Ass, that shift doesn’t result in an entirely differently tone to its inspiration, as a lot of the immortality-blues drama of the titular Old Guard is thankfully intact. Hell, with some of the touches, like what ends up happening to immortal Quynh, I’d argue this manages to outperform the comic in places.
It also helps that the characters have been kept largely intact from their printed origins, from Charlize Theron’s weariness as the leader Andy, to KiKi Layne’s role as the newcomer in Nile, to Matthias Schoenaerts’ Booker as the even dourer example of millennia-long malaise, and (most importantly), Marwan Kenzari and Luca Marinelli’s romance as two soldiers who fell in love on opposite sides of the Crusades. As much as it annoys me that Andy’s bisexuality is close to non-existent here, the fact that the legendary “He’s not my boyfriend” monologue is perfectly intact here more than eases that wound. The fact that that scene being here, untouched, was in writing in Rucka’s contract for this to even get made makes its inclusion feel that much more beautiful to see in flesh-and-blood.
And speaking of flesh-and-blood, the action scenes here are eight kinds of badass. Collectively, the stunt team has a lot of experience with the intersection of comic books and ultraviolence, working on films from the MCU as well as the Kingsman series, and they find a solid meeting point with Rucka’s more street-level sensibilities. Watching Andy and her team dish out just as many bullets as they take looks like the well-oiled workings of a team who have been in combat for centuries, even millennia, meaning that no punch, gunshot or sword swing is wasted. It might not be as viscerally satisfying as the comic, where the gore levels gave way to their own brand of gallows humour at times, but between the choreography and the excellent effects work, that also turns out to be not that much of a problem.
But the best part? All of that already-impressive shit I’ve mentioned? Not even the main reason why I fucking love this movie. That comes with how the film’s place as part of the larger superhero genre makes itself apparent, starting with the conditions behind the main group’s immortality. Namely, that they themselves aren’t even sure how ‘immortal’ they truly are. They have the potential to survive more bullets than MacLeod and Ramirez combined, but since even they don’t know the full story behind their power, they treat combat in the same way as human soldiers do in war today: There’s no guarantee that they’ll walk away.
The way that war stories and superhero stories meld together here is quite incredible, as it manages to bring a definite poignancy out of that intersection, and it’s something that ties into a crucial part of the superhero formula: Will the fighting ever stop? No matter how stacked a hero’s power set is, not even Superman can be at every single place where he is needed. This is why a team like the Justice League is necessary in the first place. And in Andy, we see a combination of real-world tragedy and that aforementioned immortality blues to show a new frontier in “getting too old for this shit”, where the possibility of the resurrection not working is tinged with a morbid hope that it doesn’t. That at some point, all this blood, all this heartbreak, all this disconnection from anyone else other than those like her, will end.
And it’s through the lens that the film’s biggest emotional points shine through, showing an understanding of the relationship between the superpowered and everyone else that makes for the best kind of superhero fiction. They may not be able to stop all the evil in the world… but with every ordinary person they save, the chances of better days to come grow larger and larger, a cosmic form of ‘pay it forward’ that shows heroes need us just as much as we need them.
I could honestly keep going with the superhero philosophy on display here, or on how Harry Melling’s turn as the villain makes for one of the greyer depictions of Big Pharma in recent years (he almost turns full Syndrome by the end), but quite frankly, if all of this isn’t enough to sell readers on why this film is stone-cold brilliant, I genuinely wonder if anything will. It’s the best kind of graphic adaptation, where what made the source material worth adapting is good and intact, and whatever changes have been made only serve to further strengthen the core idea behind that source.
No matter which perspective you view it from, as action-thriller, as sombre Highlander-esque character drama, as commentary on war and medicine, or as container for one of the greatest gay romance scenes in years, it is immensely satisfying and a phenomenal debut in the superpowered arena for director Gina Prince-Bythewood.
No comments:
Post a Comment