Ant-Man

Ant-Man is the right movie to follow up Avengers: Age of Ultron. Love A:AOU or not, there's no denying it's exhaustive qualities; an inevitability when you're combining four film and one or two television universes into a single digestible experience. I've made my thoughts on it clear, but I'm not about to say it wasn't a well-made, as good as good can be experience. It was heavy, however, and heavy only has weight in film when it's the exception to the rule. The fate of the world/universe is a high stake, one that us as audience members can immediately impress ourselves upon, but if that's all that's ever at stake, why should we continue to worry whether or not the good guys will prevail? The audience isn't dumb; give them something deeply personal, and write it well, and they'll still see themselves in the shoes of the hero. Mercifully, Ant-Man gets this. While the world is still in danger through its events, it's only by proxy. The third act usually reserved for nerve gas, or nukes, or floating cities recreating the impact of an asteroid, is instead here a father fighting to save his daughter inside of her bedroom. It's bizarre to call a film with a budget of $130,000,000 small-scale, but reflected upon the norm of today's cinema, that's exactly what it is.

What it drops in scale, however, it replaces with heart. The stakes are smaller, but they feel so much more personal. Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) is a thief who is fighting tooth and nail to, as mentor Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) says, "be the hero your daughter already thinks you are." Scott is desperate to prove to his ex-wife Maggie (Judy Greer) that his daughter, Cassie (Abby Ryder Fortson) deserves to have him in his life, something that Maggie's new husband, Paxton (Bobby Cannavale), is vehemently against. It's here that Ant-Man really shines and, ironically, takes some giant strides. Paxton isn't a villain in this piece; he's just a step-dad concerned for the safety and upbringing of a child now in his care. As a police officer, he's seen what people like Scott can be, and it's not a responsible role model. But, of course, it's Scott's movie, so he has to prevail in the end. Having said that, where a movie like this would normally end with Paxton being humiliated, or murdered, or to simply have Maggie realise how much happier she was with Scott, Ant-Man instead simply shows Paxton and Maggie that Scott has changed for the better, and the film ends with all of them having dinner together. Cassie has done a cartwheel for the first time, and Paxton shows Scott the footage on his phone. The divorce is amicable, and they've found a way for Cassie to still have a complete family. Even a throwaway gag of Cassie feeding an ant that was enlarged to the size of a dog during the climax demonstrates Paxton and Maggie's willingness to integrate Scott's new identity into the family dynamic. This level of sensitivity and care also demonstrates itself during the action set-piece the majority of the film is building towards: a heist on the headquarters of the film's villain, who is dangerously close to replicating Hank Pym's shrinking technology (oh yeah, the suit makes you really small and ant-strong) for weaponised purposes. Scott enlists the help of his thieving buddies, as a chance for them to, as well, do something better. His best friend of the bunch, Luis (Michael Pena), is ecstatic at the opportunity. "We get to be the good guys? We're the good guys now?" he asks with joy. The heist culminates with Scott and crew blowing up the building. During the escape, Luis runs past the room in which he'd knocked out a security guard prior. He stops, sees the tied up body, and sprints inside to help him out. "We're the good guys now," he reminds himself. It's such a small, utterly wonderful moment, that is 100% more heroic than any action taken in something more focused on wanton destruction like Man of Steel. 

Here's the really great thing about Ant-Man, though: I can hardly remember it. Apart from the aforementioned staple moments, I'd really struggle to tell you what actually happened. And I think that's great. As I've already said, this is a movie that feels smaller (it's even filmed in a lower aspect ratio than its counterparts; 1.85:1 as opposed to 2.35:1), and it's very well aware of its place in the universe. This is not trying to be Iron Man; this is not trying to reinvent the superhero movie. It's just out to tell a heartfelt, personal story of who this guy fights for. It's also well aware of its inherent silliness. This is a guy who gets small and talks to ants. It tries to instill as much pathos as possible into that, and when the ant Scott formed a bond with, calling it Antony, catches a stray bullet and falls to its death, there is a brief emotional sting...before Scott drops onto the next available ant and flies away. Because it's a fucking ant. People are, and likely will continue, arguing about what Edgar Wright's version of this movie would have been before he got too creative for his own good. To those people, I say that you need to forget about it. You didn't read his script, you didn't see his movie. It didn't happen, so just appreciate Peyton Reed's Ant-Man for what it is: light entertainment. It respects your intelligence as much as it respects its place in the universe. It wants to entertain you, and then it wants you to go home and forget about it. I really want to stop doing this, but fuck you, Jurassic World, this is entertainment.