Marvel begins a new phase with ‘Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania’

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This week’s releases wisely combine ambitious blockbuster, unpretentious comedy, festival dramedy and combative indictment. Let’s start.

Marvel has made gold with the film adaptations of its comics. They’ve drawn lines of continuity with a constant crossover and never-resolved cliffhanger between their films. “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania” continues that trend, with heroes taking on a new villain and a new world, the Quantum Kingdom, at the hands of trusted artists like Paul Rudd, Michael Douglas or Michelle Pfeiffer.

Spectacular special effects and more drawn-out storylines than those of Russian army supplies are the highlights. The confusing multiverse games look good on screen, but are forgotten once we leave the room, forcing us to take notes to navigate without getting lost through all the stages of Marvel. To make matters worse, this film is the beginning of another. The worst part is that it loses the tone of mockery, of a middle-class superhero (a Jack Lemon disguised as Iron Man), which was Ant-Man’s distinguishing feature. Now everything becomes one of The Avengers again, but series B, losing grace and cross-border power.

Last Sunday, the XL Semanal featured a wonderful article by the intelligent director Isabel Coixet about the film ‘The Triangle of Sadness’ and about the meaning of that expression. My advice is that you leave these lines and subscribe to theirs, which are much more stimulating.

If you made the mistake of continuing here, I’ll tell you that this premiere is quite an event for fans of festivals and for those who go to the cinema to see the antipodes of the film I mentioned two paragraphs ago. This is a journey into man from the least representative of man. It’s like giving aliens an excuse to invade us (if the white balloons belong to them and not the Chinese). Seeing is like thinking about an accident, you are terrified of the succession of disasters, but you cannot look away. A moderate comedy that mixes ‘Vacations at sea’ with ‘Lost’. For strong stomachs and trained brains.

‘La novia de america’ is the young Mexican second wife of a mature Spanish father who is known by his children, who obviously don’t have it all going with them. Culture shock always works well in comedies, and so does family dynamics, which we all identify with. The film is fortunate to have the always funny Miren Ibarguren (although she’s more outdated here than Bárbara Rey’s bedtime adventures), Ginés García Millán, and Eduardo Casanova, who, despite how far he reaches, remains a good comedian as a director.

Alfonso Albacete, the author, is an eclectic filmmaker. An early-time Almodóvar without evolving. Fan of kitsch, sometimes funny and with scripts that seem like a title for an episode of ‘La que se avecina’. To laugh.

Director Sarah Polley (who has just worked as an actress with Isabel Coixet) returns to the cinema after ten years of silence. She does so by losing some of her touch, now turned into a warrior who enslaves her art to her ideas (which is almost always inadvisable). In ‘Ellas hablan’ she tells the horrific story of abused women within a Mennonite religious community who decide to break the chains of submission not only to the men of her town (who have the integrity of a Barça referee), but also to his God. . Frances McDormand, Rooney Mara, Claire Foy and Ben Whishaw compose an almost Dreyerian fresco.

Off camera, I have to protest another terribly boring Goya gala, even though I know it’s spitting water. It can’t be four hours. The rhythm cannot be interrupted every fifteen minutes. It can’t be dazibao of claims. The tribute to the dead cannot last five minutes. It can’t go on without a decent screenwriter. No, definitely not, Carlos Saura wouldn’t be happy if the Goyas got to his wake.

Have a movie week.

Source: La Verdad

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