Doubt

   At first glance, a morose drama called Doubt centered on a few nuns and a priest at a catholic school seems more like a Lifetime Original Movie than an Academy Award Best Picture contender. Yet as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Doubt is about more than a scandal and a bitter old nun, but delves deeply into the danger of legalism, the trouble with school and church politics, and the irreparable destructive power of gossip. Although Doubt may seem straightforward enough, the simplicity of the story and its outstanding cast are its greatest strengths, inviting the viewer to assess the situation presented with minimal information, try to draw conclusions, and then doubt everything.

    Doubt is carried by three strong performances and sold by one brief supporting role. Meryl Streep's sterling turn as Sister Aloysius is immaculately merciless as she steers the plot vehicle through the levels of suspicion, accusation, and doubt. From the first moment that Aloysius turns her face towards the camera to reprimand a boy for sleeping in church, the hardness in her voice and eyes pierce straight through the screen, setting the tone of her unshakably hostile piety. She stands in stark contrast to the naïve warm and fuzzy young Sister James (excellently played by Amy Adams), who bubbles over with love for students and history. While Aloysius refuses to believe anything but her own suppositions, Sister James seems ready to believe anything, completely scandalized by the idea that even a thirteen year old boy might lie to get out of class. As the conflict unfolds, Aloysius loses none of her edge, but Sister James gradually finds herself less cheery as she begins to feel the full weight of the trouble she has been part of. 

     Audiences expect flawless portrayals from Meryl Streep, but it takes a very strong male lead to hold his own against the iconic actress, and Philip Seymour Hoffman does this masterfully. His part is the most difficult of the characters because his purposes and motivations remain undefined throughout the entire movie. Even as the credits roll it is uncertain if Father Flynn is truly guilty or not. The movie does not seek to answer this question, so Hoffman must portray Father Flynn in such a way that either option could be true; Hoffman does this with absolutely stunning skill. He shows himself a likable priest with a sense of humor and a progressive proclivity, with just enough mystery to his character to be suspicious. He is the absolute opposite of Sister Aloysius, and their scenes together are easily the most intense as their stark differences battle ferociously. One particular scene involving the two characters talking privately, soars as the old nun screams her determination to do what is necessary to condemn the priest, even if it breaks her vows. 

     The genius of Doubt is in the writing. Very few movies could take a seemingly drab plot and using only dialogue, keep the viewers on the edges of their seats. While the movie deals with the possibility of an inappropriate relationship between a priest and a young male student, the subject matter is handled with such decorum and discretion that the implications would be entirely lost on younger innocent viewers. Throughout the movie, even as Aloysius hurls ugly accusations at Father Flynn, the expository language is never more explicit than merely "inappropriate relationship." The audience will never hear the words pedophile, molester, sexual abuse, or homosexual, even though these things are all dealt with as part of the central conflict of the movie. 

    Exquisite performances and impeccable writing are key players in creating the doubt as to whether or not Father Flynn is guilty. What is shown and discreetly not shown give enough evidence to support either view, while still not fully answering the question. Viewers that suspect he may be a lecherous pedophile will see the logic in the accusations of Sister Aloysius, while viewers who are convinced of his innocence will empathize with Sister James. All three of these characters are crucial in selling the story and forcing the viewer to not just watch attentively, but participate in the frustration, anger, suspicion, grief, and regret. While any one of the actors might have out-shined the other, they all work together to form a strong and stirring ensemble. The brief appearance of Viola Davis as Mrs. Miller functions as a cherry on top as it were, being a shining moment of emotion amidst the many complex levels that are explored throughout the course of the film. 

     By the time the final scene finds Aloysius breaking down and showing a faint glimmer of humanity, there is nothing left but what the title suggests, doubt. There is doubt as to whether Father Flynn got off easy for hideous actions, or was the victim of a series of traps laid by an unyielding and determined nun. There is doubt about Sister Aloysius and her methods of handling the entire situation, manipulating the facts to reach a definite end. There is doubt about Sister James and what she really saw that day that began the scandal. The final lines gasped by Aloysius deliver one last punch, leaving the viewer to draw their own conclusions, but also leaving that feeling that whatever side the viewer has decided on, they ought to doubt their perceptions. 

Sherlock Holmes A Game of Shadows

When an old and often redone story hits mega-success the way that Sherlock Holmes did in 2009, a sequel is inevitable. And just as every sequel must top the success of its predecessor, so must it also engage viewers in a plot that will without a doubt involve some sort of world-affecting conflict. Such is the case with the explosive A Game of Shadows where Holmes and Watson reunite (albeit reluctantly for Watson) for another adventure of narrow escapes and near-death experiences. 

     A Game of Shadows picks up very closely where the first film left off, with Watson on the brink of marriage and Holmes on the trail of yet another foul fiend. The first film's closing lines led into the introduction of the infamous professor Moriarty, who finally appears here in the second film. A Game of Shadows is predominantly a stand-alone movie rather than a sequel, fleshing out its own plot with very few tie-ins to the first movie. Most audiences familiar with Holmes are equally aware of his arch-nemesis Moriarty, therefore the fact that the professor makes his debut in A Game of Shadows is satisfying and strategic. In some strange way it had a certain Dark Knight quality to it, in that the filmmakers deliberately did not introduce the most famous enemy to the protagonist until the second movie. 

     The stronger points of the first Sherlock Holmes movie are repeated in A Game of Shadows. Part of what made the first movie so enjoyable was the witty chemistry between Jude Law and Robert Downey Jr., who faithfully reprise their roles here. Watson remains the reluctant best friend to Holmes, but he is neither useless nor perfect. He is unfailingly faithful to his less than considerate friend, but is human enough to vocalize his justified complaints about Holmes' tactics-- most notably the complete ruin of his bachelor party and honeymoon. Holmes remains characteristically ignorant of everyone else's needs and is relentlessly focused on the case at hand. Though considering the stakes of the case at hand one could hardly blame him. 

     Suffice to say that Robert Downey Jr.'s quirky interpretation of the classic sleuth remains solid, and Jude Law as Watson continues to deliver. It is the newcomers that garner the most attention-worthy performances here. The most interesting newcomer is also fairly fresh to the Hollywood scene in general. Coming from her success in the European film The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Noomi Rapace brings to A Game of Shadows an intriguing female supporting role. Not only is her role as a gypsy Madame Sim creative, her motives are believable and sympathetic, and her lifestyle and background are consistent with her self-defense skills. Another newcomer is none other than celebrated British comedian Stephen Fry as Holmes' brother Mycroft. Fry's function in the movie is not necessarily needless, but his nude scene is. 

     The catalyst to any good movie is a solid villain. As Professor James Moriarty, Jared Harris takes the reins of one of literature's most iconic antagonists, and steers the character to new levels. In examining Harris as Moriarty it is extremely difficult to allow his interpretation of the character to stand apart from the many predecessors that have also been the professor. All these things aside however, it cannot be denied that Harris unquestionably possesses the grace and charm to be Moriarty. True to the spirit of the character, however evil his actions are, he cannot be convinced of his wrongdoings or asked to question the ethical dilemma of sacrificing a few for the good of many. He accurately communicates almost mad genius, while still maintaining a certain degree of charisma and control, even as he swings a skewered Holmes from a meat hook. Harris' Moriarty is edgy, but faithful to the books. He is brilliant, motivated, driven, arrogant, and retains his aristocratic manners at all times. 

     Moving to the film itself, A Game of Shadows has to be accepted at a specific level in order to be enjoyed or appreciated. It should not be looked at as a period drama, an action movie, or a comedy, but an even combination of all three. The quality of the story falls short of greatness, but as pure entertainment it succeeds well. While the characters are enjoyable to watch, the movie is not a character movie, as it focuses more on circumstances and action sequences than character development, and plays out more like a comic book movie than anything else. People (like me) that enjoy digging beneath the surface will not find much in A Game of Shadows, which leads me to conclude that it therefore must be taken at surface value or left alone altogether. As a story, A Game of Shadows has enough twists and turns to be interesting, but it would be generous to call any of these devices unpredictable or surprising. 

    When the original Sherlock Holmes movie was released, speculation abounded as to the real nature of the relationship between Holmes and Watson-- namely, gay or nay? Such speculation is unfounded by any obvious content in either film, but it would seem that A Game of Shadows attempts to either derail or fuel the speculation by completely overdoing the implications. Holmes, for example, refers to Watson as his partner on more than one occasion, causing Watson to cringe. Holmes and Watson are only partners as concerns their cooperative efforts on solving cases, but the film-makers are clearly cognizant of how modern audiences will attempt to perceive the relationship, so rather than eliminating the suggestion altogether, they overplay it. This is especially evident when Holmes is forced to botch Watson’s honeymoon in order to save the couple’s lives. Once Mrs. Watson is removed from the honeymoon car, the next scenes find Watson furiously tearing at Holmes’ clothing as they scuffle on the floor of the train car, with Holmes is dressed as a woman. It is by no means a scene that suggests any sort of homoerotic connection, but it is no accident on the part of the director to depict Holmes as an unwanted substitute for Mrs. Watson.

     As previously mentioned, A Game of Shadows must be taken at face value in order to be enjoyed. While the continual sequences of slow-motion are undoubtedly creative, they do get a bit old after a while. Sometimes this device works extremely well and other times seems like unnecessary pomp. Under of all the glitzy camerawork and grand explosions is an interesting enough story with some good laughs along the way and a few good twists. The characters have believable motives, and even Moriarty’s grand scheme to topple the delicate balance of the world is not implausible, but A Game of Shadows is not a realistic movie and it is not meant to be. Sherlock Holmes’ newest adventure is altogether enjoyable, succeeding as a fairly decent combination of action and comedy.

Lessons Learned from Harry Potter

It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends.

It does not do to dwell in dreams and forget to live.

It is not our abilities that determine who we truly are, it is our choices.

Events will occur that will fail to make sense in the here and now, but nothing is coincidental or meaningless.

Help will always be given to those who ask for it.

Looks can be deceiving (Snape, Neville, Umbridge, Lockhart, Moody, need I go on?)

"It is important to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated."

"Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love."

Time does not heal all wounds. Ahem, Snape.

Keep your friends by you. Harry would not have survived year one, let alone the rest of his adventures without loyal friends.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. This is probably the most prominent theme of the entire series, stated in book seven. Will Harry treasure power, fame, or will it be loving others no matter the cost and seeking to overcome evil?

The capacity to love more than the extent of one's abilities determine the capacity for greatness, as shown by Neville Longbottom.

Loyal friends are worth more than popular and powerful ones. Would Crabbe take a knife for Draco the way Dobby does for Harry? I think not.

Equal treatment of those deemed "lesser" reaps great benefits, but prejudice and condescension reap hard consequences. Harry treated Dobby as an equal and Dobby in return lays down his life for his friend. Kreacher and Griphook were treated with disdain, therefore those who treated them unfairly greatly regret it later.

Never underestimate the young. Voldemort shouldn't have.

Never underestimate the elderly. Professor McGonagall! Book readers: Neville's gran.

You are never really alone in your battles. Harry may have made extreme sacrifices, but he is not the only one affected by the conflict that he is central to (Hermoine erasing herself from her own parents' memories, the many character casualties at the battle of Hogwarts, etc.)

Don't always believe what you read. Rita Skeeter clearly could not be trusted to print the truth, or at least not without a sharp angle on it.  

All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. And don't trust the government to be the ones to do something. Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge (and his successor) could not be trusted to accept the truth or act on it and as a result the magical world falls into an era of darkness and fear.

Nobody is perfect. Not James Potter, not Albus Dumbledore.

Just because someone is on your side doesn't necessarily mean they should always be listened to. Sorry Sirius.

Never become between a mother and her child. Lord Voldemort tried that and spent the better part of fourteen years as a diminished stump of a being. Bellatrix Lastrange made the same mistake and it was not only the last thing she ever did, but she created a situation bad enough to make Molly Weasley spout one of the best lines in the entire series.

Fear is one of the greatest and most crippling weapons. For proof of that, look at the Ministry of Magic. When it becomes clear that Lord Voldemort has indeed returned, rather than fighting against him, they vilify Harry and all those associated with him.

Book smarts are good to have, but you have to get out of the library for them to do you any good. Hermoine learns this after the troll incident.

Some things are simply worth waiting for.

What goes around comes around. Sometimes. Peter Pettigrew gets his comeuppance, but Delores Umbridge not so much. Or the Malfoys. Okay, what goes around doesn't always come back around.

And finally, when good goes against evil, there is no sitting on the sidelines. All will be affected one way or another, so choose your side.

The 3:10 to High Noon

It has been almost sixty years since Hollywood gave audiences High Noon-- the film that became the defining mold to the western genre. While directors and writers have spent years trying to reinvent the wheel, High Noon remains the quintessential western that all others follow in the footsteps of. High Noon effectively struck every note that has become cliché to western movies, but did so with such style and grace that the films that followed in its wake could not seem to help but try to take a shot at the formula. The classical western has faded in its popularity over the years, but recent Hollywood attempts to revive the dusty west still echo back to High Noon's classic mold.

According to Roger Ebert, "The Western in its glory days was often a morality play, a story about humanist values penetrating the lawless anarchy of the frontier"  (http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070906/REVIEWS/709060305). A classic western must at least in some manner illustrate this definition. Consider 2007's 3:10 to Yuma (a remake of a 1957 film of the same name) in which a down on his luck rancher undertakes the dangerous mission of escorting an outlaw to the train station. The story is so simple that it might have been rewritten any number of ways to accommodate the modern audience's fading interest in morality tales and westerns in general. Fortunately, the 2007 movie remains faithful to the spirit of the original film, which followed closely on the heels of High Noon.

Generally speaking, with exceptions of course, westerns require certain stock characters. These characters usually fall into the following categories: a pure-hearted hero of ordinary origins, the town barmaid, an antagonist of disreputable background, brainless lawmen, mercenaries, and one thoroughly good woman. The hero of High Noon is Marshall Will Kane, closely mirrored by 3:10 to Yuma's protagonist Dan Evans. The major difference between Gary Cooper's character Marshal Kane in High Noon and Christian Bale's Dan of 3:10 to Yuma is that the latter borders on mercenary but as the story shifts, so does he. What starts as a mission to save his ranch and earn back the respect of his family becomes a quest to be the agent of justice no matter the cost. In the process he saves his ranch and earns the respect of his family anyway.

Dis-similarly, Gary Cooper's Kane never alters his character. He is from the beginning determined to carry out his duties and remains resolute to the very end. The similarity between Dan and Kane is that before the film's inevitable shootout, both characters are completely abandoned by everyone, including lawmen and friends. Despite the certain outcome of going alone against a gang of lawless gunslingers, both men see their duties through while the other "good men" flee. Kane is driven by a sense of duty that the whole town (including his newlywed wife) tells him he does not have to bear. Dan is motivated by getting back on his feet financially and fulfilling his obligation to provide for his family. Both men are tested and forced to realize what they are truly made of. Both men stand firm even when the temptation to walk away seems practical, even reasonable.

The respective villains of High Noon and 3:10 are less similar to each other, but create the same moral dilemma for the protagonist. Frank Miller of High Noon and Ben Wade of 3:10 are both escaped notorious outlaws with a certain skill for evading justice. Between the two, Ben Wade is a far more interesting antagonist because he seems to exist to stir the waters whether by violence, indifference, or occasional kindness just for the sake of surprising himself. But just as Marshal Kane is an unyielding pure heart, his nemesis Miller must be equally constant in his evil. Wade does not shift so much in his character as much as he simply explores less visited sides to himself. Miller persists in his quest for vengeance without the slightest intention of faltering. Wade never truly ceases being the villain despite his charming attempts to manipulate the audience into liking him. Miller never tries to be liked; he cares about satisfaction. In the finale of both films, the hero is in a life-threatening character-testing moral dilemma created by the villains therein. Wade and Miller both have fiercely loyal gangs with no moral conscience that compound the danger that the heroes must face alone. It could be said that in each film, the heroes and villains mirror each other in their fortitude or in their growth.

Going back to Roger Ebert's quote about westerns being a morality play, both High Noon and 3:10 to Yuma effectively strike the proper note according to Ebert. High Noon laid the groundwork for the classic structure, and 3:10 to Yuma adhered to the established mode. 3:10 to Yuma may have rattled the cage in its more complex portrayal of the two main characters at odds with one another, but at its heart it is a strong tribute to classic westerns like High Noon in which evil will not triumph as long as good men do not stand by and do nothing.

Revisiting The Lion King

  The Lion King is aptly titled, because it is the crown of Disney animation's already stunning record. When this visionary take on a Shakespearean tragedy became a worldwide hit in 1994, I did not have the privilege of seeing it in the theater because I was actually in Africa at the time. Once my grandmother sent us the VHS however, it was played more times than I can count. Shortly thereafter, my family acquired the cassette tape soundtrack and our car was filled with melodious Alan Menken songs. Now, twelve years later, The Lion King makes its comeback to theaters in 3-D, DVD, and Blu-Ray, with just as much grandeur as its debut in 1994.

    Sometimes, things that were so sweet in childhood are not nearly as impressive in adulthood, but this is certainly not the case with The Lion King. The characters are every bit as charming or chilling, the songs still catchy, and the score still inspiring and appropriately majestic. When "the Lion King" was released in 1994, I was far too young to appreciate the things that strike me now in adulthood. For example, over the years I have developed an inclination for movie music composed by Hans Zimmer. I had no idea until more recently that he was the master behind the gorgeous score of The Lion King. Apparently my love of Zimmer goes further back than I realized. And I must add that the opening sequence "The Circle of Life" recaptures the wonder and magic of Africa that I have missed so much in the last few years since moving to the USA. Watching the gorgeously animated images of various East African animals and especially the shot of elephants walking through the morning mist in front of Mount Kilimanjaro was strangely emotional, because I used to be able to see that same mountain from my house. Very few films have ever adequately captured that enchantment, but "The Lion King" hits the mark, bulls-eye.

     On a less personal note, as an adult it strikes me that the story of The Lion King, although cushioned in peppy tunes and lovable characters, is actually an extremely heavy plot. The fact that animals are used makes it a little easier to bear, but at its heart we have a story about a child who is deceived into carrying the weight of his father's accidental death, and forsakes his birthright to hide from the truth that would set him free. The themes woven into what is largely marketed as a children's or family feature, are far above the usual overtones that run throughout other cartoons. Instead the writers reach deeper, hitting strongly spiritual and psychological notes.

     As a Christian viewer, Simba's conversation with his deceased father was particularly moving as Mufasa declares with sterling conviction, "You have forgotten who you are and so forgotten me. Look inside yourself; you are more than what you have become!" His father's words are far from edifying, but they call Simba to take his place, be who he was meant to be, and stop running. In facing his past, Simba not only learns the freeing truth about his father's death, he liberates an entire kingdom from the tyrannical rule of the evil Scar. As a child, Simba could not have understood how his decisions would affect so many, and when confronted as an adult with the ramifications of his choices, he is initially content to continue thinking like a child. His kingdom is starving, his own subjects are suffering and dying, and yet Simba attempts to hide behind his newfound "Hakuna Matata" lifestyle as long as he can, rather than face the past. When the struggle is over and the deceiver Scar has been overthrown, Simba humbly but bravely ascends the mountain and takes his place as king, now empowered with the truth and the freedom therein. The symbolism of the lions is another thought thread in itself.

    In exploring the character of Scar, it is safe to say that Scar is possibly one of the most chilling villains Disney has ever brought to the screen. While past miscreants may have squabbled for a throne or tried to eliminate competition for unspoken beauty contests, Scar's depravity reaches a certain level rarely seen in animation. It is clear that as the antagonist, he will not be stopped by anyone or anything standing in his path to power, which makes the Hitler and Nazi-reminiscent imagery of "Be Prepared" especially brilliant. He would not only kill his own brother and nephew, but as soon as his reign is threatened, he turns on the very henchmen (the hyenas) that have led the coup to place him on the throne. The Lion King might be loosely based on Shakespeare’s Hamlet, but the murderous Claudius who marries his lately murdered brother’s wife has more heart than Scar. Simba graciously allows Scar the chance to flee and live with his disgrace, but Scar spits in the face of mercy. 

    Going back to the things that made The Lion King one of the most loved movies of all time, the team behind the creation wove in a balance of child-friendly characters and tunes with quality script and artistry for more mature viewers, making the film timeless. The dynamic duo of Timon and Pumbaa, the terrible trio of Hyenas, the majestic artistry of the distinctly African terrain, or the climactic moment when Simba climbs Pride Rock to claim the throne under the crescendo of glorious music, are unforgettable pieces that come together beautifully to form a true masterpiece. The Lion King succeeds supremely as excellent entertainment, a work of art, and one of the finest examples of what animated movies can be. 

Portrait of a Hero: Boromir

Portrait of a Hero: Boromir

Hero. 1. a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave

deeds and noble qualities. 2.  a man distinguished by exceptional courage,

nobility, fortitude, etc .

    

     To the category of hero as defined by dictionary.com, I would like to nominate Boromir of Gondor from The Lord of the Rings. When the vast majority of people who have knowledge of the Lord of the Rings movies (and no history with the books) are asked who the heroes of the story are, Boromir is rarely mentioned. Aragorn, Frodo, Sam, or any number of other characters may be hailed as such, but not Boromir. If a character were described by the characteristics listed under the definition of a hero, adding to it "one who gives his life for his friends, a soldier who dies in service of his country," there would be no dispute about the person's heroism, yet Boromir is still not often counted among Middle Earth's heroes. Upon closer inspection of the character however, it should be noted that Boromir of Gondor is worthy of the title of hero. Although his usefulness may have been brief due to his untimely death in The Fellowship of the Ring, the fact remains that he is indeed a hero, and an unsung one at that.

     Unfortunately for the mighty man of Gondor, Boromir is most remembered for his moment of weakness. The great soldier is certainly ambitious and strong-willed, and perhaps short-tempered, but he is also driven by a sense of duty and patriotism. In the extended version of The Return of the King, the audience learns that it was never Boromir's desire to pursue the Ring of Power-- he did so on orders from his power-mongering father. In so many minutes it is also revealed that Boromir endeavored to restore Gondor to its former glory, and was therefore bound by a sense of loyalty and honor to protect the realm he had labored to repair. Faced with the greatest vessel of evil Middle Earth has ever seen, Boromir succumbs to a temptation for just a moment and attempts to seize the ring from Frodo, deceived by the idea that this would be the answer to protecting all that Boromir had striven to build. This brief lapse then unjustly becomes his defining moment.

   

     Mere seconds after his threats against Frodo, the mighty man breaks down in tears at what he has done, but audiences forget this. Earlier in the story, he viciously fights a multitude of raging goblins, and literally carries a friend out of the Mines of Moria when the other is overwhelmed with panic and grief. He charges into a host of sordid orcs that vastly outnumber him with courage and vigor to defend his friends, ultimately giving his life for them, yet he is still not counted among the heroes. The fact that he continues to defend small, weaker comrades, even as arrows are jutting out of his punctured chest is overlooked and forgotten. Weakened by many blows and on his knees before a filthy leader of a squalid horde, he straightens to meet his end rather than cowering before his inevitable demise. With his dying breath he restates his allegiance to the future king of Gondor, and passes from Middle Earth with warrior's honors.

   

  Boromir was flawed, as all characters are. Although he succumbed to a moment of weakness, almost all the characters of the story are tempted by the ring at some point. Despite his lapse, he finished strong. He was temporarily overcome by the suppressed desire to defend his people once and for all against innumerable odds, but he admits his fault to his friend and the heir to the throne. Some of his actions reflected moments of weakness, but other actions reflected sterling heroism. And while a few moments of strength do not make a hero, Boromir constantly put himself in harm's way and proved himself an otherwise selfless warrior and loving brother. For this, Boromir remains to this author, the portrait of an overlooked and unsung but still wholly worthy hero.    

Captain "Middle of the Road" America

Yes this is a review of Captain America. And as a disclaimer I will add that I have no history with the famed superhero, so I will accept no responsibility for making a comment that would be considered irreverent. I review the movie, not the literature, entity, or culture of Captain America.

The stereotypical unlikely hero of this story is Steve Rogers; a skinny, scrawny young man with no admirable physique, but pure ideals and a heart for justice. Steve is in a sense, an embodiment of the American way of liberty and justice for all. He longs to fight against the evil powers of oppression of World War II and be counted among the men who defend freedom. Thanks to cutting edge science, the mad dreams of Dr. Abraham Erskine, and Steve's willingness to be a guinea pig, Steve is transformed in a matter of minutes from a determined runt to a muscular model of a soldier. Being a humble man, he doesn't shove his paperwork stamped "phyically unfit" in the face of the recruiters when he emerges as a supersolider.

Captain America is as a comicbook movie, neither great nor loathsome. It hits squarely in the middle in almost all ways. The plot is predictable, the light love story expected, and the overblown action is typical (though admittedly entertaining) for a movie of its genre. I believe I have said before that this particular genre does not necessarily require good acting, so if it is present it may be counted as a bonus, as was the case with Iron Man. Chris Evans faithfully presents the character of Steve Rogers as a sterling, incorruptible force for good, without being stupidly angelic. Rogers is a down to earth sort of boy next next door, and extremely likable even before his transformation into Captain America. He's polite, patriotic, kind, but strong and determined. Other than Rogers himself, the most memorable character is Dominic Cooper as Howard Stark, someday the father of Iron Man's Tony Stark, with a similarly sarcastic nature and preference for scantily-clad women, but women in general do just as well.

Hugo Weaving is an interesting actor to say the least, but his role as the Red Skull villain of this movie is mediocre by no fault of his own, which means the parties to blame must be, at the risk of sounding unpatriotic, the writers. Don't misunderstand me, it was preposterously ambitious to have a Nazi villain whose plots surpass Der Fuhrer himself. The laws of comic books require that the villain be the absolute antithesis of the hero, and if you're searching for such an archetype, you can hardly do better than a Nazi. Since Steve is the apotheosis of goodness and virtue, the Nazi by default must be the epitome of depravity, evil, and abnormality. He accomplishes this by not having a real face, which is hardly unexpected in a comic book movie. Steve on the other hand has no selfish ambitions, is not to be dissuaded by his diminutive size, and does not take advantage of the British agent who clearly takes an interest. He is like the idealistic Superman, but not so untouchable and impersonal. For the most part he is a fairly solid hero, though not particularly complex. However, not having a hero with inner demons and deep dark tortuous secrets is refreshing, really.

It is this lack of complexity and excess of cliche that brings Captain America somewhere stranded between Spider-man and Iron Man; above a completely lighthearted origin story, but not quite original enough to stand out as a paragon of the genre. All the same, that is not to say that Captain America is unenjoyable; it is certainly very good. The lead character is the definitive good guy, the WWII setting is unique, and it's packed full of fast-paced action and a few sweet reflective moments. As a superhero origin movie it may not go down in the genre's history as a specimen of their finest, but it makes for a great popcorn flick and some nostalgic patriotism.