Dark Phoenix / *1/2 (2019)

It takes a certain endurance to thrive among the X-Men, especially in the movies. Reflect for a moment on how frequently this team of misfits changes lineup: one minute a certain character is front and center, joining the ranks of Xavier’s mutants as their power comes to fruition, and then the next they are cast as a backdrop when someone more exciting (or dangerous) comes strolling through the doors, like new car models or better generations of cellphones. Only the more showy or idiosyncratic personalities ever make it past this curse of a momentary observation, and as with the source material the film adaptations have often leaned towards the same series of faces to revolve around: Wolverine (who even starred in his own trilogy of movies), Magneto (the most consistent villain), and Mystique (who has the benefit of, well, always being able to change her appearance). Now the filmmakers can add poor Jean Grey to that list of primary identities, if for no other reason than because of what her history will dictate: that she will go beyond being a normal telepath and see her mutant abilities ascend into the realms of gods and monsters. The newest chapter of this series, “Dark Phoenix,” has the distinction of casting her in that role before she is emotionally developed, which adds another challenge: how do you control yourself in a situation where everyone in the room has either lied to you or knows you must be destroyed to preserve humanity?

Venom / **1/2 (2018)

For a solid third of its running time, “Venom” keeps pace with a premise that has almost ingenious ramifications. The hook comes when Eddie Brock, a San Francisco journalist regarded for his activist approach against corrupt corporate entities, is thrust into a situation that exposes him to an alien parasite, and they bond – both anatomically and intellectually – while outrunning hitmen hired by a local capitalist. Immediately the mind is filled with all the obligatory curiosities: how does the alien “symbiote,” a shapeless heap of goo, manage to communicate with its host in its native language? Why is it more ideal for it to use him rather than any number of other potential hosts to achieve its agenda? Does he have any weaknesses, or is he basically an object of chaos without limitation? Any basic knowledge of science will instantly supply plausible enough answers to negate the skepticism, and we watch admiringly as two personalities banter with one another like peers engaged in a war of sarcasm. But then their union is thrust into a series of action sequences that are shot like senseless riots; while this “Venom” is rushing through the busy streets trying to outrun a wave of gunmen, the photography whooshes frantically without stability, blurring the details until we can barely register what has transpired. What use is there, ultimately, in spending time with a fascinating anomaly like this if the mere notion of his physical ability is undermined by an image that knows nothing of pace?

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 / *** (2017)

There’s a moment early on in “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” when the camera loses sight of a fight between the heroes and a slimy villain, opting instead to focus on Baby Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel) dancing energetically near a portable stereo just beyond the main action. Music plays an integral part of the tone of these films, but so does the direct humor of its characters – a gathering of colorful and offbeat men, women and creatures that are charged with the protection of life in a plethora of space-bound danger zones. For the audience, it’s almost customary to assume that the humorous details will win out over the doom of a big moment. But what about those of us who want to see more of the exchange in a conflict that will ultimately pave the way for the film’s story? Is little Groot’s distraction – amusing as it is – worth that sacrifice? However you feel about the shift will come down to what you expect out of the material. For all its innocence, that moment underscores the attitude of filmmakers who are content to let their flashy showmanship dictate the direction of their pictures, usually without the benefit of a dynamic plot to underline the whimsy. The first “Guardians” film excelled at accomplishing both, make no mistake, but now we must deal with this, a sequel that has charm and uproarious laughs but doesn’t seem at all interested in doing much else with the personalities it assembles.

Doctor Strange / ***1/2 (2016)

There is a wide array of sensations one is apt to experience while watching the new “Doctor Strange,” but the most inexplicable of the arsenal is an unflinching sense of plausibility – the idea that something so seemingly absurd or above the trajectory of audience absorption can feel so thoroughly believable when spied through zealous camera lenses. A basic reading of a plot synopsis certainly contradicts that assumption, and no wonder: the story, about a brilliant doctor who is crippled in an accident, goes on a mystical retreat, discovers astral projection and literally learns how to bend time seems like nothing more than self-indulgent fantasy. But Scott Derrickson, the motivated filmmaker behind Hollywood’s latest excursion into the pages of colorful comic books, takes an approach far more cognizant than most others would, and what emerges on screen far exceeds the cynical expectations of what we routinely offer this genre. Certainly the details have a familiar air to them – the visuals echo “Inception,” the premise recalls elements of “Batman Begins” and the characters are reminiscent of those contained in “The Matrix”, for example – but so infrequently do such things come together in the service of such an engrossing story, much less a mere suggestion of intrigue.

X-Men: Apocalypse / *** (2016)

There’s a sly exchange between characters in “X-Men: Apocalypse” that confronts the preconceived attitude of filmgoers at action movies: specifically, that third chapters in trilogies are usually the worst when it comes to offering a thorough payoff. This morsel of wisdom is uttered during a very quick scene showing a handful of young mutants exchanging conflicting opinions as they leave a movie theater showing “Return of the Jedi,” the third “Star Wars” film; when one immediately speaks up in protest of those notorious third chapters, all those present nod in collective agreement. And if that’s as widely accepted as an attitude in this climate as it is with mere characters, then it is no wonder Bryan Singer, the loyal filmmaker behind many of the better “X-Men” movies, integrated this morsel: after the failure of so many other pictures in many of these comic book series (including the last “X” story arc, which ended with the awful “The Last Stand”), this is a director fully aware of the destinies that await lengthy film excursions. Certainly a handful in the audience might find some cruel irony in that sentiment as “Apocalypse” – also a third film in a series – thoroughly disinterests them, but those are the ones looking in from an unreasonable context. This is in no way the ambitious or intricate achievement that “Days of Future Past” was, nor does it aim to conquer the most zealous narrative summit. But what it lacks in the pitch of liveliness it more than makes up for in character exposition and effective trickles of story progression.

Captain America: Civil War / *** (2016)

“Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all.” So goes a key proclamation early on in the third “Captain America” film, made by a weary witness to the catastrophic events that follow an assemblage of superheroes known as the Avengers. His words are more than just a call for accountability on the behavior of physically superior beings in mainstream society – they echo a misplaced undercurrent that I have wondered about in the comic book films as of late, where chaos has run rampant and the fates of nameless victims have lost relevance in the blur of an ambitious foreground. That recurring trend also creates a strange quagmire, I think, for fans of the heroes: how can you support a group of elite and powerful figures when their endeavors to save a world from tyranny come at the expense of flattened cities and countless casualties? When the Tony Stark character shares an early scene with the mother of a man who was inadvertently killed by his team, their interaction penetrates to the most complicated angle of this conflict – no good deed goes unpunished, especially if you’re a person who can flatten buildings with the wave of a fist.

Deadpool / **1/2 (2016)

Wade Wilson may have been manufactured in a universe with few similarities to ours, but in a movie climate overrun by noble superheroes and domineering tyrants hell-bent on world destruction, his arrival could have not come at a more apropos time. A staunch practitioner of all things vulgar, he comes to be the lightning rod for which desensitized audiences can rest their cynicism on, occupying a space in his social culture that arms him with a scathing editorial analysis of all things loud, obnoxious and completely absurd. Such intentions are made known quite early on in the new movie about him; waiting for the arrival of a slew of enemies he is destined to slaughter, he narrates in sardonic oratory that breaks the proverbial fourth wall of movie awareness. Endeavors with less alert protagonists would hardly have the audacity to regard their destinies with some level of cheeky discernment, and yet here is a man whose life experiences – and colorful observations – work directly in favor of that proclivity. The funny thing about costume-wearing warriors is that the more abundant they become, the less likely they are to comment on how cliché their own origins might be.

Ant-Man / *** (2015)

Somehow the setup always amounts to the same structure: a brilliant mind in a giant business organization experiments with something that can alter human gene structure, and inadvertently gives birth to a superhuman being that becomes targeted by a corrupt villain within the corporation. It is the tried-and-true formula of many a comic book series in the Marvel Universe, and minus subtle variations the results yield stories about unlikely heroism in the presence of innocents who barely understand their immense possibilities. That was certainly the selling point of turning “Spider-Man” and “Hulk” into film adaptations, and now comes one of the more obscure examples in the Marvel line: “Ant-Man,” about a guy who puts on a special suit that, bewilderingly, transforms him into a tiny object no bigger than an insect. What was such a suit made for? To hear this bizarre plot tell it, such a creation would allow the corporation to build an army of tiny soldiers to sell to the military, who would be skilled enough to undermine the operations of enemy nations without ever being seen by their opposition. Right, because men the size of ants are really agile enough – even in a super-strong suit – to completely destroy the momentum of national enemies possessing weapons of warfare.

Avengers: Age of Ultron / *** (2015)

Two prominent thoughts are all that come to fruition during the course of “Avengers: Age of Ultron”: 1) a villain wants to destroy the world in a very ambitious way, and 2) a gathering of colorful superheroes attempt to thwart those plans by destroying a few human populaces in the process. That has been one of the most amusing ironies of action pictures in recent years, especially when it comes to comic book adaptations; no matter how hard one tries to circumvent the delusions of an overbearing villain, inevitably it’s going to cost the human race a few precious lives and billions of dollars of structural damage. Not so content to just fill the screen with wall-to-wall destruction, of course, here is a movie that intercuts most of it with sarcastic dialogue, too. Consider an elaborate sequence in the second act, for instance, when the character of the Hulk is corrupted by a mind control gimmick that sends him into the city on a violent path of chaos, and the movie sends in the Iron Man as a defense in order to stop his physical tirade. Buildings are flattened, streets are littered by the shells of destroyed vehicles, highways are toppled and innocent bystanders run screeching through the scene like scattered insects. Yet it never escapes good old Tony Stark’s notice that an astute one-liner is the best antidote to catastrophe, which certainly has an interesting effect over the loud explosions of a metropolis in ruin.

Guardians of the Galaxy / ***1/2 (2014)

When a crowded genre comes to the point of being saturated by clichés and wall-to-wall adrenaline, sometimes a little silliness can go a long way. “Guardians of the Galaxy,” the newest (and most eccentric) of the Marvel comic book movie adaptations, is a mad act of absurd genius: refreshingly creative, quirky, well-staged, beyond visionary, often hilarious and fueled by imaginations that seem to tap into an obscure corner of the mind in order to create an endless array of wondrous images. It left me with the kinds of sensations normally reserved for deep and meaningful science fiction epics. That this comes as a major surprise only makes the response all the more enthusiastic. Who would dare suspect that a preposterous little story of unattractive renegades could inspire high amusement, especially after we have been overrun by traditional superheroes caught up in an interlocking battle that demands rigorous stamina and far-fetched conflicts? No recent summer movie has taken such bold risks and gotten completely away with them, much less offered an audience a thrilling adventure in the company of thoroughly original characters.

X-Men: Days of Future Past / *** (2014)

No amount of research can prepare the casual viewer for seeing a movie as narratively oblique as “X-Men: Days of Future Past.” Long past the point of establishing any firm continuity, this now-lengthy film franchise has come, gone and been rebooted under the supervision of countless filmmakers, each of whom have taken this material to the brink of possibility and then doubled back around with alternating perspectives until all narrative connections have either been tangled or severed beyond understanding. To see all those stories and characters come to a head in this, the seventh chapter of the “X-Men” saga, is to be caught in a web of maddening inconsistencies. What event triggered this crucial moment in time where all of the varying timelines are required to converge? What will the notion of time travel alter, for one ensemble as well as the other? Did the movies secretly fit together before now and we just didn’t know it? Or do all the preceding stories even retain their purpose, assuming that the climax of the newest entry negates many of the events that were seen in the earlier entries? This is the kind of movie that may endure as one of the great mysteries of the genre, even for comic book enthusiasts who are well versed in logical stretches and alternate timelines.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 / *** (2014)

Here, thankfully, is where the superhero screen treatment finds the right sense of balance. “The Amazing Spider Man 2” is a surprisingly effective sequel that trickles to the surface with composure and foresight, dropping viewers into a world of sweeping depth without bombarding them with overzealous action sequences to a degree of utter desensitization. And that’s as much a surprise as it is a virtue, if you think about it; after the ante of this crowded genre was raised significantly thanks to the first “Avengers” picture – an admiral endeavor despite its damaging repercussions on the competitive edge of action filmmakers – Hollywood has unabashedly lost sight of the notion of restraint, and descended head-first into an era in which wall-to-wall visuals rob us of independent thought. Something about a kid being bitten about a radioactive spider, thankfully, is unmoved by that trend, and the newest movie about his adventures involves narrative legwork that is not only refreshingly focused, but in many ways very old fashioned in its sensibility. Once upon a time our greatest protectors stood for something in protest of cruel tormentors and crumbling societies, and here is a protagonist that actually finds the time to do something noteworthy in the foreground, all while seeking insight and interacting with others for the benefit of character development rather than just the setup of mindless movement.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier / ** (2014)

What happened to the heroism? The modesty? The integrity of a character and the preservation of his history? “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” is that loud and shapeless sequel about a noble man in a patriot costume that I feared would come to pass, a movie that spends two heavy hours propping up wall-to-wall actions in vein of the “Avengers” saga as opposed to just, you know, living in the world of a character who has got a lot to learn about the change of the times. From the first moment we join good old Steve Rogers at the opening of the story, events from the first film – as well as those of “The Avengers” – are long behind him, and a world full of culture shock is at his heels yearning to be uncovered. But there is no time in this screenplay to allow the big guy an opportunity to deal with his realities on any organic level, because Marvel law dictates that we must send such warriors right into the furnace of intrigue and zealous explosions and shootouts. Audiences will no doubt justify that course of action, but there is no arguing that the directors, Anthony and Joe Russo, have made the unfortunate mistake here of looking through their camera lens as businessmen instead of as filmmakers inspired by the conviction of their likable hero.

Thor: The Dark World / *** (2013)

Movies continue to provide colossal snapshots into worlds that stretch beyond the frame of imagination, and the realm of Asgard in the “Thor” movies is certainly one of the most inspired of recent times. Amidst vast open spaces that seem stirred by Greek mythology rise pillars and towers that jut from a planetary surface like protests to nature, and characters seem to wander through their polished spaces as if insects inside a boundless hive of overreaching hallways and arenas. No wonder, perhaps, that its citizens are immortal beings; for this kind of utopian empire to exist, those that created it must obviously command a power far greater than what man can wield, much less understand. Observing “Thor: The Dark World” in which gods and demons adopt the primary roles of heroes and villains, I was struck not just by how fully realized the realm is, but also by the underlying notion that we as moviegoers have now seemingly exhausted what is palpable in our heads as creative environments to wander through in the movies. It is a fascinating paradox to find yourself in when the imaginative cityscapes of “Blade Runner” and “Dark City” now seem like half-forgotten relics in the celluloid scrapbook. Now what remains beyond the high pearly gates of the world of gods?

Fantastic Four / * (2005)

"Fantastic Four" is the most insipid and dispiriting of the super hero comic book screen adaptations of recent times, an obnoxious muddle of a movie in which potential adventure is sideswiped in favor of watery characterizations and dialogue that feels like it was lifted from five or six reality shows. As a concept the movie houses vast potential - its focal points are seized from a foundation which has garnered great success on the printed page for decades - but as a full-fledged undertaking it quickly crosses the threshold of stupidity, expecting audiences to tag along all the way through as if hinting that the outcome will justify the build-up. The problem: if there is any payoff here, it lies in the notion that the movie actually ends before it gets even more stupid than it could have. At a time when the superhero film has been cinematically reinvigorated by crusaders who are driven by inner conflict rather than absurd crime sprees, four clunky human mutations whose superpowers are their only distinguishing characteristics just don't stand up.

The Punisher / ***1/2 (2004)

The renewed popularity of comic book screen adaptations illustrates a promising new turnaround for the standards of cinematic blockbusters, in which conflicted heroes and multifaceted villains become primary driving forces behind substance instead of ambitious visuals that exists purely for the sake of assaulting the senses. The concept alone is an accessible one for filmmakers because comics already come prepackaged with the essentials: extensive back story, thorough character exposition, personal and moral conflicts, and landscapes that bring even the most zealous action into a relevant context. If there sometimes lies a problem in this approach, however, it's that an already-established backbone can sometimes encourage directors and writers to forget about the padding and go straight to the big explosions or the dramatic confrontations, which creates a severe sense of detachment as a result. Granted, even though some of the more cartoonish translations have still resulted in still-respectable results (consider Ang Lee's "Hulk," for instance), it takes real gusto and nerve for someone to abandon nearly all sense of adrenaline and simply concentrate on the material they are given. There lies the real virtue in watching such famous stories pop out at you on the big screen.

Hulk / *** (2003)

Ang Lee's "Hulk" is the most character-driven of the recent comic book screen treatments, an ambitious special effects movie in which every crucial plot movement is dictated more by physical and psychological impulse rather than the flashy imagery or camerawork. That doesn't necessarily mean it is a better picture than its near cousins, but it is probably a more thought-provoking one; unlike the recent "X2," or even the overlooked "Daredevil" from earlier in the year, this is the type of work that not only works as a visual showpiece, but an in-depth personality inspection as well, strictly utilizing the latter element to drive the narrative beyond the standard plot convictions expected of a super-hero film. It probably helps matters, furthermore, that the movie's own "hero" is decidedly more challenged than most other beings of his arena have been. No, he isn't one of those many gifted creatures who devotes his life to fighting crime or making the world a livable place simply because he is able to; he is a cursed individual with endless internal conflict, a person who periodically caves in to the pressure of emotional pain to reveal a side of himself that could as easily harm him as much as it could benefit him against an enemy.

X2: X-Men United / **1/2 (2003)

The stories of the X-Men and their intricate adventures in a world with instinctive to fear and hate them have always been a source of constant fascination in the ever-changing comic book market, but even more fascinating has been Hollywood's challenge of filtering that rich 40-year history of the series into a collection of two-hour action films aimed squarely at casual moviegoers. For those of us more familiar with the material than, say, the average theater attendee, the questions often outweigh the anticipation: who, for instance, decides what plots get covered in these endeavors? Who decides what characters to include and how to introduce them? Who or what doesn't quite make the cut? The answers maybe simple, but the brains behind Twentieth Century Fox's inevitably-ongoing franchise aren't immediately thinking about the cravings of hardcore series purists. No, these movie mutants are not a homage to those comic buffs who have waited patiently for years to see these plots and players make the leap to the big screen; they are colorful summer blockbusters designed to appeal to an audience that doesn't expect to know a thing about the source material.

Daredevil / *** (2003)

If the audience indeed knows more about the super-hero essence than most filmmakers do, then it will be interesting to see if anyone can explain the mysterious physical chutzpah behind Daredevil, a crime fighter who leaps great distances between buildings, drops hundreds of feet from the air without the use of specific assets or interference to break his falls, and never seems to injure himself as a result. We can get away with most masked protagonists performing these types of stunts because the evidence is always there to enforce it; Superman's superhuman abilities allow him to fly, for instance, while Batman and Spider-Man suspend gravitational limits because they have nifty gadgets that allow them to. And the mutants of "X-Men" can fly too because, well, they're mutants. With this particular comic book hero, however, no specific explanation or hint of reasoning is applied to the concept, other than the assumption being incredibly acrobatic is achieved simply by someone going blind after an accident with spilled chemicals.

Spider-Man / *** (2002)

"With great power comes great responsibility."
- Uncle Ben

Something has always baffled me about the notorious existence of the neighborhood hero Spider-Man, and until I saw Sam Raimi's movie adaptation of the popular comic book just this last week, I still wasn't quite sure what that was. As an observer in the past to the web-slinger's penchant to topple heroically off of high-rises and into the murky streets below, moving swiftly to protect innocents from foreboding shadows, I admittedly had as many high hopes going in to the experience as I did unresolved questions. The answer came to me shortly after the movie's hero made his obligatory transformation, but by the time the second act began to unfold, quibbles and speculations no longer mattered, because what I was seeing was not simply popcorn entertainment, but one of the most exhilarating (and silly) screen adventures ever to be inspired by the pages of a Marvel comic.