I saw The Marvels

The Marvels is Disney's theatrical follow-up to Captain Marvel, the Carol Danvers vehicle of a few years back that received a lukewarm reception within the cinematic, Marvel Multiverse, due in large part to its unengaging, Mary Sue approach. (Even the strongest heroes require flaws for melodramatic sake.) 

This new chapter is directed by Nia (Candyman 2021) DeCosta, who cowrote with Megan McDonnell and Elissa Karasik, who instill Mar-Vell-rooted connections, with not only Brie Larson's Danvers on board, but Disney+'s Imann Velanni as Kamala Khan, aka Ms. Marvel, and Teyonah Parris as Monica Rambeau, aka Professor Marvel (maybe), last seen in WandaVision, now a punctilious, S.A.B.E.R. astronaut. And so, the question begs, who and/or what is the trio pitted against and what does such pertain? 

By jingo, it's the Kree (if only through indirect chance) who prompt the quandary when Rambeau's progressing powers get distorted through a Jump Point wormhole, thus pulling Captain and Ms. into our space-captain's parallel, solitary fold and they into hers. With the action-adventure singularity swiped, the trio argues, chums up, and swap spots and strengths, as they try to patch the celestial rift, but first must scour the discord that brews behind it. 

Zawe Ashton's revolutionary Dar-Benn, the movie's reigning (Ronin-like) antagonist (geared with a powerful bracelet and in desire of another), doesn't make it easy (in particular with her holding a major grudge against Danvers, who she calls The Annihilator), though Samuel L. Jackson's Skrull-bound Nick Fury lends a helpful hand, stealing the show through a parenthesizing timeframe, as well as Khan's concerned clan, played by Zenobia Schroff, Mohan Kapoor and Saagar Shaikh. The same can be said for Goose "the Cat," who in my estimation deserves a spinoff, animated series, populated by more (ahem) "felines." Then there's Park Seo-Joon's songster, Prince Yan of the Bollywood planet, Aladna, who's also Davers' maybe-spouse, with a fleeting presence that doesn't churn much romance, since that sort of old-fashioned pining doesn't fly within today's coerced, Don't Bet on the Prince, social expectancies (I guess). 

None of aforementioned elements hamper The Marvels to any huge extent, but rather its persistence to make a buddy-buddy-plus-one, gals-will-be-gals flick. Even this categorized intent would've been okay, except that Captain Marvel's perfectamundo flatness encroaches. For example, there's an evident chink in Davers' armor (a reason for immense guilt), but it's never explored to proper measure. 

Even with that said, not every speck of The Marvels misses the mark; the sweeping effects (in particular if viewed in 3D) make this one worth a big-screen view. But at the same time, there's never enough such glitz or character depth to make it a galaxy-shaker. The Marvels would have worked better as a modestly budgeted, Disney+, come-and-go special than an overblown, theatrical release. (On the other side of the coin, Werewolf by Night, whether in black-and-white or color, could have rattled cinemas big time, if given some pertinent padding, but I don't make the corporate decisions nor is my ilk taken into account by modern Disney. The Marvels is a blaring case in point.) 

I realize that certain little Sinead O'Connors out there may call my low enthusiasm misogynistic, but jeepers, it's not that The Marvels is lady-oriented that leaves me uncommitted. I dig the recent, big-screen, Black Widow and Wonder Woman jaunts. To boot, I'm a shameless Ellen Ripley, Tasha Yar, Cathy Gale, Emma Peel, Tara King, Honey West, Christie Love, Maggie Greene, Lara Croft and Sheena fan. (Yeah, I know the latter swings near-naked, but why hold that against her or me?) I also dig Thelma & Louise, Ghostbusters 2016, the Ginger Snaps trilogy and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If only The Marvels captured their feminine fire and less ho-hum, obligatory, dewdrop righteousness, I might be whistling a different tune.