Even as we experience a momentary hiatus from the onslaught of superhero films, it is hard not to feel that the whole genre has been unnecessarily debased. There is nothing especially wrong with the vast majority of Marvel films, but they are the cinematic equivalent of a visit to Byron or Nando’s; enjoyable while it lasts, good enough not to feel guilty afterwards but formulaic and unadventurous in the extreme. The aversion to risk-taking might make financial sense, to the tune of billions, but artistically it is often disappointing. No wonder Martin Scorsese dismissed them as ‘theme park rides, not cinema’.
Which is why, on the occasions that a filmmaker does move outside the confines of the genre, the results are often hugely stimulating. While some of the Marvel films have been extremely enjoyable on their own terms (and Black Panther was even nominated for Best Film at the Oscars), one would struggle to describe them as high art.
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