If you’re the kind that has long followed the adventures of them brawny costumed men (and occasional woman) in possession of enviable superhuman abilities, 2012 takes you to the pinnacle of your spandexed dreams. The Marvel world all but exploded with the recent release of The Avengers, a big, noisy, relentless spectacle that will have disciples of the genre whooping for joy—others, not so much. Written and directed by Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator and notorious comic-book junkie Joss Whedon, the film ties up several back-stories that we’ve been offered in installments since 2008 as part of Marvel’s ‘Cinematic Universe’—Iron Man I and II starring Robert Downey Jr as quippy billionaire Tony Stark, the Incredible Hulk with Edward Norton (reprised from Eric Bana’s mediocre 2003 take on the green giant), 2011’s Thor with Chris Hemsworth as the hammer-wielding Nordic god and Captain America: The First Avenger starring a flag-wearing Chris Evans. But those of you expecting to witness any degree of profundity in this large-scale men-in-tights mashup, be warned; The Avengers is allabout action—glorious, maniacal action—and little else. This is one strictly for the fans.
Last we saw, Nick Fury (Samuel L Jackson), director of supersecret US government agency S.H.I.E.L.D, with the help of the sultry spy Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), was busy recruiting the big boys for the Avengers Initiative, a superhero backup plan in case of an earth crisis. Enlisted are Iron Man and Captain America, the latter freshly roused from an icy 70-year nap. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo, the most effective Hulk by far) is currently in a Calcutta slum keeping his angry alter ego at bay. And Thor is kicking back in the alien world of Asgard, having just quelled the overreaching ambitions of his adopted brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston).

But Loki has returned, his eye on the Tesseract—a blue cube with unthinkable energy potential (doubling as a portal between worlds)—that had fallen into the ocean years ago in the midst of Cap’n America’s efforts to keep it away from terrorists, fished up later and given to S.H.I.E.L.D. Our stringy-haired supervillain breaks into Fury’s headquarters and brainwashing several employees, including archer extraordinaire Hawkeye (Jeremy Runner), gains possession of the glowing artifact. What will he do with it? Rule the earth, of course, soon as he destroys some cities and kills a few hundred people, you know, just for fun? Crisis in place, Fury summons the Avengers.
As can be expected when large-sized egos are confined in a room—or in this case, a giant aircraft that can turn invisible—there are
clashes aplenty within the troupe initially, making up some of the most hilarious sequences in the film. With the air of a dysfunctional family, they quibble pettily and it takes all the effort S.H.I.E.L.D employees can muster to help these super-powered freaks see eye to eye. What with a giant portal opening up in New York City (ever the battleground) to drop in an alien army accompanied by mechanical slug floaters, time is key. Will the Avengers eventually learn to work as a team? Will Loki be defeated? Do you even have to ask?
Sidestepping the expectations set by Christopher Nolan’s increasingly eloquent Batman chapters, The Avengers is largely devoid of depth or narrative insight. But that isn’t necessarily a criticism. This is after all a genre where men in silly costumes fight evil forces, and while Batman, perhaps even the X-Men, might have managed a crossover into darker drama, it isn’t, I believe, a prerequisite for all superhero films. For purely escapist fare such as this, one that doesn’t pretend to be anything more than entertainment, The Avengers does its part, and does it well. Whedon has ensured as little complexity in the storyline as possible, giving full reign to the action, which is
impeccably choreographed and often flat-out incredible—including in 3D. Case in point: that final almost hour-long battle in the city.
Of course, a certain level of predictability is inevitable in a superhero film where all roads must lead to a triumphant end, but The Avengers certainly makes it a hell of a fun ride. With trademark scientific mumbo-jumbo designed to make one snigger (I tuned out whenever they jabbered on about adjusting the niggledehacks and powering the paddledeflaps), and an easy comic banter between characters—Robert Downey Jr bagging the best lines—there is a lovely, self-deprecatory humour at play here that Whedon has recalled from his Buffy and Angel days. And though seemingly impossible in a script with so many competing leads, the director has been smart in allocating enough screen time to each, a good call considering the kind of acting talent has been rounded up. 

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