Episode II: The Raccoon Hugs Back

Rating: 9/10 (8 May 2017)

Forget the Avengers. Forget the Fantastic Four. With a bust of colour, light, and Blue Suede, the Guardians of the Galaxy exploded onto the screen as the Marvel Cinematic Universe's REAL first family. And it's a word that writer/director James Gunn is loathe to let audiences forget in round two. Creatively untethered after his first roaring success, gone is any compulsory Infinity Stones hyping in favour of more belligerent, tearful outcries of 'family' than there are a new batch of chart-topping tunes (which is saying something). And while Guardians 2 may not hold many surprises, Gunn is wise enough to recognize audiences were hooked on a feeling, and he delivers another stupendously satisfying round of ferociously character-driven, pop-punk Star Wars-lite (less plot; more hugs) with demented gusto.
If the stereotypical sequel trend is to always plunge into DAAAARRKKKNESS, it's a trend Gunn is happy to spit his intergalactic candy-floss in the face of. Wasting no time on exposition, Guardians 2 dives right into rambunctious fun by scene one, spewing slick one-liners, banter, and a teasing fight scene so disarmingly clever our theatre floors shook with laughter. And it seldom slows down afterwards. Gunn is that rare master of the prolonged gag that, although it really shouldn't, somehow becomes even more absurdly hilarious when dragged out to a ludicrous extent (case in point: you can now buy a Funko Bobblehead of a character called 'Taserface'), and Guardians 2 easily ricochets with as much infectious, exhilarating laughter, and impossibly catchy tunes as its predecessor (including bonus points for unprecedentedly badass use of Fleetwood Mac).
If nothing else, the full resources of Weta Digital lend the scrappy subject matter the visual effects buff befitting a proper space opera (or space punk concert, in this case). Gunn's accelerated action - with jetpacks and explosions aplenty - is anarchically playful enough to even (mostly) circumvent the oft-lambasted MCU 'CGI blob blowouts,' from adversaries (including the lovably huffy Elizabeth Debicki) piloting their ships like weird, 90s arcade racing games, to a climax that will feel inventively surreal as long as you don't think of the similarities to the bloated mess culminating Ang Lee's Hulk (oops ). Still, a succession of almost alarmingly violent interludes are just as unsettling - one uncomfortably long slow-mo, laughing mass-murder(!) set to a cheery tune feels more like a Tarantino movie than anything under the Disney umbrella. Confusingly, for a film so irreverent, Guardians 2 is also strangely beautiful, rendering the jaw-dropping, explosively colourful panoramas of a plethora of alien worlds to the rusting fur on Rocket Raccoon and forehead crinkles on Baby Groot (who, yes, is as hilarious and adorable as you'd hope, without overstaying his welcome)'s forehead with consummate detail. We'll just politely overlook the juvenile Looney Tunes 'space travel face warping' effects - it's almost comforting to know that not all of Gunn's prolonged gags are as rewarding.
But, more importantly, Guardians 2 is all about parents (sorry Batman), and is characteristically unafraid to dip deep into the emotional cookie jar. If the first Guardians bared all of its characters' emotional scars, Vol. 2 pokes at them and massages in some salt for good measure, giving each character a resonant emotional arc that, gags aside, makes for a surprisingly tender and sad watch. Gunn (now on solo script duties) orchestrates their interactions with more clumsiness than before, his writing sometimes hand-holding to an almost distracting extent that slightly undersells some pivotal emotional beats (similarly, characters repeatedly verbally cuing the soundtrack, via Quill's walkman, is an unnecessarily contrived screen writing cheat), leaving the occasional aftertaste of trying somewhat too hard to make a Guardians movie rather than letting it breathe effortlessly. Still, he's concocted the ultimate cosmic sitcom: a gaggle of characters painted so distinctly and lovingly that we'd watch them do anything, superfluous plot be damned.
Thankfully, Gunn's peerless cast of characters are given plenty to do, and their respective takes on 'social performance masking inner pain,' win our hearts and laughs anew with eager abandon. Chris Pratt's unique blend of radiantly roguish, childlike charisma and propensity for puppy dog sadness is as heartwarming as ever here. If his listening to Cat Stevens, emotionally unpacking his 'Dad triangle' doesn't unplug your tears, you are of sturdier stuff than most of this Galaxy. Dave Bautista's Drax almost overdoes it on the comic relief front, but Bautista carefully weaves in just enough subtle heartbreak that his peerless comic timing remains unfettered, even as his jokes drift into the increasingly crude (he, after all, has famously humongous turds). Bradley Cooper's Rocket similarly pokes the limits of how much caustic, a-hole acting out audiences will buy in the name of raw, emotional hurt, but we understand him too well not to love him, prickliness and all. Michael Rooker's snarling space pirate Yondu starts out with unsettling softness, but once we acclimatize to his perturbing pathos, he's as brashly affable as they come. In Kurt Russell's uneasily charming Ego, Gunn has unearthed (ha!) a deceptively creepy villain, far more philosophically and visually memorable than his goofy premise would suggest, while fellow newcomer Pom Klementieff redefines adorable as bug-eyed empath Mantis. Still, it's the sister spat between Zoe Saldana and Karen Gillan - the MCU's first real relationship between two women(!) - that really lingers after the credits roll. Saldana and Gillan drip with pitch-perfect, seething vinegar and heartfelt hope in the perfect encapsulation of a sibling relationship: they may usually want to murder each other, but what they really want is a hug. Aww.
Guardians 2, not to mince words, is rambunctiously fun, colourful, hilarious, and, above else, proudly sports its soppy, adorable bleeding heart on its sleeve. It's hardly revelatory and occasionally overly didactic, but plays to its strengths with cheeky obstinacy, and is downright irresistible for it. Will you blast 'Awesome Mix 2' on repeat all the way home from the cinema? Obviously. Just be sure not to hassle the Hoff.
-9/10