I arrived in the door five minutes ago after seeing Logan. Before I took off my coat, before I set down my keys, I ran to my laptop and pressed hard on the power button. I didn’t want to let myself not write this blog.
Now, for those who frequent this small corner of the internet often, you’ll know me for my love of fantasy. All the same, the genre has run parallel to the superhero film since the early 2000s, making fans of one essentially fans of the other. And after a decade of what I always considered “Post Dark Knight angst”, it seems superhero films are finally set to become grounded in something substantial again. Something worth buying a ticket for.
When Deadpool stole our hearts last year with its shoot-from-the-hip, salacious style, the fifth gear the superhero movie was cruise controlling in started to wobble. It’s been long overdue of course. Quite frankly, I can’t sit through another ten years (in which time I could be helping to bring children into the world) of watered-down, emotionally empty films where an ever-expanding motley crew chase after aliens with their pew-pew guns and make “off-the-cuff” jokes because hey, killing bad guys is super chill, amirite?
I have sat through the Avenger movies, and the Spiderman reboots and the myriad of other characters Marvel are packaging into solo films so fast we honestly can’t remember their names. I blink and Marvel births six Thor movies. I go to the bathroom and Captain America lands himself another sequel. The wheel had to stop turning. The wheel had to be broken.
So it came as little surprise really that it fell to Hugh Jackman and Wolverine to haul us all out of the complacent coma we’d allowed ourselves sink into. Logan, an X-men spinoff I could honestly see on a Best Picture list, shook me from the word go and didn’t let me rest until the credits rolled up and the lights came on for a stunned audience. With its unapologetic level of violence, you could be excused for thinking this was just another body-count movie, a comfortable 120 minutes of nada. Instead, Logan managed to unearth more deep-rooted emotion than any superhero movie has ever dug for, let alone found.
Hugh Jackman, delivering a performance that will surely rank as one his more memorable, brought out the vulnerability of the Wolverine character as though it was the one side of him he was destined to portray. Patrick Stewart, on the other hand, reprising his role as Professor X, delivered a side of the character we perhaps weren’t expecting. Here Professor X had more bite, less art, a reflection of the later years of a man working his entire life for those around him. But perhaps both will admit they acted in the shadow of Dafne Keen, a young actress who brought to life a whole new character in her first flurry on the big screen. Rather than succumb to what I call “Carrrrll”, where young actors essentially get in the way of any meaningful plot, Keen drove the story forward, standing as tall as her co-stars by the time the 141 minutes adrenaline rush had collapsed over the finish line.
Fans of both the comic books and previous films will find plenty to play with, and such is the nuance of many of the scenes, even those who would normally gloss over a superhero blockbuster will pause in the quieter moments of the film and reflect on what a genre such as this can achieve when handled with such care.
Perhaps the biggest surprise for this viewer was to see how wide-eyed political the film turned out. Essentially a movie about innocent, predominantly Black/Hispanic pre-teens running from the U.S. government towards the “You’re-welcome-here, ey” Canadian border, Logan managed to stick a middle finger up to the Trump administration somewhere in the throes of its action. And by God did the movie deliver on that front. Refusing to shy away from blood, death, sickness, Logan‘s punch-by-punch action shots dove at you two claws extended, impaling you with a message that characters here aren’t oh-so-safe as we have come to expect from the Marvel production line.
All in all, this movie will be remembered as the best X-Men had to offer, perhaps even the best the genre has given us too.
Because in a state-of-play where Marvel are happy to knock you over the head for two hours with clichéd plots and woeful dialogue, Logan is as raw as we’ve ever had it.
This was two and a bit hours of primal Hugh Jackman screaming at Hollywood, at viewers, at the genre and at the world.
And by fuck do I hope we’re listening.