This review contains mild spoilers for Marvel's Avengers: Age of Ultron.
Two years ago, an inquisitive software engineer distilled the nutrients of a healthy diet down to a soluble powder that, when mixed with water, provided a person with a meal-in-a-glass. "Soylent" was light in the stomach, alimentary dense, and sported a lightning-quick prep-to-consumption time—a steak and veggie dinner without the extravagance of a steak and veggie dinner. Soylent wasn't as elegant as the foods it replaced, but the drink caught on because it delivered on fundamental promises: sustain the body, energize the mind, and teeter on the fringe's edge, where "geek cool" is a thing.
Avengers: Age of Ultron is popcorn movie Soylent. In his superhero sequel, Joss Whedon takes the Avengers conceit—a sprawling ensemble of famous people fighting bad guys for two-and-a-half hours—and doubles down on action, sarcasm, and reference-heavy plot. Fan translation: Age of Ultron compacts an entire "Phase" of the Marvel Cinematic Universe into a single picture. The movie will play like MDMA-laced catnip to comic book junkies and send the heads of casual fans spinning like Regan from The Exorcist. The only objective fact is that Avengers: Age of Ultron is as gargantuan as blockbusters come.
If you missed Iron Man 3, Thor: The Dark World, or Captain America: The Winter Soldier you're doomed. Age of Ultron is predicated on the past and willing to cut corners, an exposition snowball rolling down a hill with no end in sight. If you're in the know, it's a blast. Set months after Winter Soldier, the film finds Captain America (Chris Evans), Iron Man (Roberty Downey Jr.), and the rest of the team surviving in a post-S.H.I.E.L.D. world, snuffing out Hydra honchos and restoring world balance. In the film's Bond-esque opening sequence, the team retrieves Loki's stolen staff from the one-eyed Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, who tapped its alien energy to imbue Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Scarlett Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) with powers. As the Avengers discover, the Asgardian relic has more plot-fueling properties up its sleeve. Downloading the staff's "intelligence" into his mainframe, Tony Stark inadvertently births Ultron, a James Spader-voiced A.I. bent on evolving his computer brothers past humanity. He spreads through the Internet, takes shape in one of Stark's robot Iron Men, knocks a few heads around, and flies off to orchestrate mass extinction.
Last October, Marvel rendered Age of Ultron stake-less by announcing its film slate through the year 2019. Cap will make it out OK. Thor will fly off into the sunset. The world will not crack in two. Whedon is aware and compensates with what he does best: character. Evans' Steve Rogers remains the franchise's keystone, a pure hero who, based on his acrobatic fighting style, would be an All-American Olympian if he wasn't busy punching robots. A running joke about Steve's disapproval of bad language brings the Avengers closer together than any extraterrestrial MacGuffin. The movie falls out of balance when Cap leaves Iron Man to his own devices. Circumstances pair Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark and Mark Ruffalo's introverted Bruce Banner returning to the science lab and, every time, it's a banter free-for-all with Downey Jr. vying for dominance. Whedon's familial instincts balance it out. There are broships, squabbles, and even touches of romance. Each teammate gets his or her moment, including Jeremy Renner's Hawkeye, who makes up for lost time by firing off zings as quickly as his arrows. In a killer one-liner, Whedon has his powerless hero reassure Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch that "none of this makes sense," but they should fight anyway. See, the Avengers have a Hulk and self-awareness.
Then there's Ultron. James Spader's vengeful villain is basically his Blacklist character embossed into a metallic, CG skeleton. He's fun enough. Out-swaggering Marvel's recent baddies isn't a challenge (sorry, Ronan the Accuser). With Spader's droll intellectual manner, Ultron is a spitfire that vamps with philosophy. He's impossible to defeat, summoning Apple iArmies in a moment's notice. It's only when Ultron's ego intrudesdoes the door open for real drama. His focus, and Age of Ultron's, is on what makes us human. It's a broad, obvious theme that still plays in giant movies like Avengers. Ultron's personal connection to Stark ignites the feud, roping in Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, who hold a grudge against the ex-arms manufacturer for his role in their parents' death. Drama! At least the first hour. By its epic conclusion, Ultron is another pawn in an explosive finale. There's too much movie drowning Spader for Ultron to become our new Darth Vader or the next Loki. But as a target for crosshairs, a gap-filler between setpieces, he keeps us locked into Whedon's high-speed chair-o-plane.
And, man, does Age of Ultron's action rattle the brain. As he did in The Avengers' sublime New York City battle, Whedon blends his heroes' individual attacks into swooping long-takes that amplify team dynamics. The effect works wonders—Age of Ultron's 30-minute long conclusion atop a city-turned-meteor is gorgeous splash page after splash page—and occasionally topples over itself. The opening rescue mission, chock full of snowy landscapes, bursting tree trunks, laser blasts, and the Avengers' own bravado, is like watching a fireworks display with a spyglass. They haven't invented a screen big enough for Age of Ultron. It's a good problem to have—Whedon dreams beyond what the brain can compute. Smaller scuffles give the stars deserved space. Why we haven't seen Scarlett Johansson's Bourne-style Black Widow movie, the world will never know. And the trailer-touted Iron Man-versus-mind-controlled-Hulk throwdown rivals the best of Wrestlemania. It's Whedon at his best, exploiting Stark's technological prowess, Hulk's penchant for destruction, a unique African environment, and, the comedic potential of the two goliathes (Iron Man wears Hulk-sized armor). A shot where Stark triggers a mechanized punch to rapidly pound Hulk's face in the ground goes on forever—and you want it to.
All signs point to Age of Ultron being Whedon's last Marvel film (there's that nine-year plan again). If so, he made sure to play with all the toys at his disposal. Whedon blows up the canvas with crazy aerial sequences involving Iron Man, War Machine, and Captain America 2's Falcon, glides through the streets of Seoul in a series of practical car chase stunts, and straps a faux-GoPro camera to Hulk's head for a more intimate rush. The elasticity of Marvel's mega-franchise sends the movie to regal Asgard, 1930 America, Russian spy training camps, and the far reaches of space. No style is off limits for Whedon. A Black Widow dream sequence inhabits the spookiest Japanese horror movies, while a meandering diversion sends the Avengers into rural Field of Dreams territory. Sentimental fat, but the perfect time to catch one's breath.
The only thing the movie's lacking is liner notes. Even for the nerd-minded, Age of Ultron's informational velocity can be as mind-boggling as Whedon's furious direction. A sideplot involving Thor, his Dark World costar Stellan Skarsgård, a naturally occurring spa, and those damn infinity stones feels like a footnote elaboration stuffed into the primary text. It'll pay off later in the next dozen Marvel movies, but in Age of Ultron it clouds the forward motion in chaos. Ultron's abilities and advances suffer from similar murkiness. Age of Ultron shrugs it off, leaving blanks to the imagination in favor of introducing audiences to The Vision, one of the oddest, most thrilling characters to join the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Age of Ultron isn't a "movie" in the same traditional sense that Soylent isn't "food." Marvel has pioneered something new: the theatrical binge watch. Imagine that weekend you spent watching 13 Daredevil episodes fast-forwarded into a few hours. That's ideal for the Avengers' story, but not much else. Sifting through Soylent forums, it's clear consumers don't rely on the miracle cocktail for every meal. Their hunger requires variety, the occasional lean meal. Likewise, Avengers: Age of Ultron is an exhilarating experience… and one I'll be happy to deviate from as the summer unfolds. Nothing will match this movie, thankfully. Sometimes you want a steak dinner that's, you know, just a steak dinner.
Avengers: Age of Ultron hits theaters on May 1.
