X-Men: First Class, Second Rate

Rating: 7/10 (12 June 2011)

I'll admit that I'm probably not the best person to be reviewing this movie. I've never touched any of the comic books on which the X-Men franchise is based, and though I've seen all of the movies thus far, aside from the overt ridiculousness of 2009's X-Men Origins: Wolverine, I've come away from each of them with an overwhelming feeling of "meh".
The premise is intriguing: superheroes – or mutants, as they are called here – are highly evolved humans whose extraordinary abilities and powers, instead of giving them the prototypical status as revered crime-fighters and saviors of mankind, alienate them from the rest of society. Their struggle to become accepted for who they are is used as an allegory for politically and socially relevant issues, most specifically, the gay rights movement. So, why does every movie seem vaguely disappointing, as though a great opportunity has been wasted? Is it just because I'm not part of the movie's target audience, which is pretty clearly those who are already familiar with the X-Men universe and mythology? Or have I simply set my standards too high, expected too much from movies that really just aim to be pure, cheeky fun? Don't get me wrong, X-Men: First Class has its moments, and as mindless summer escapism, it's not bad. There are thrills here and there, your usual bonanza of special effects, frenetic action sequences and eye candy, this time for both the guys and girls. A cameo by a certain beloved veteran of the franchise, along with an effective use of the one f-word allowed in a PG-13-rated movie, induced chuckles and a few whoops at my screening.
The talent assembled is fairly impressive, with original X-Men helmer Bryan Singer finally returning, albeit in a producer-only role, and a number of recognizable names available to grace the marquee, though many of them, particularly Jennifer Lawrence in her first major blockbuster, go underused, their characters and story lines feeling almost like distractions or hurried afterthoughts. As a wheelchair-less, pre-hair loss version of Patrick Stewart's telekinetic Charles Xavier, James McAvoy spouts evenly-stated aphorisms and saintly benevolence, but it's Michael Fassbender who stands out as tortured soul Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto. With his Jude Law good looks and an appropriately steely gaze, he grounds a film that often seems overly caught up in its revisionist, self-empowerment ambitions and provides the movie with almost all of its best scenes, including a tavern-oriented confrontation reminiscent of something from Quentin Tarantion's Inglorious Basterds, which is also on Fassbender's rapidly expanding resume.
In fact, beneath its glossy, very, very photogenic surface, X-Men: First Class looks oddly hollow. The use of the Cuban Missile Crisis as a major plot point fails to add any real weight to a story that is almost purposefully light and breezy. With the exception of Erik's past as the subject of Nazi experimentation, the backgrounds, relationships and motivations of the main characters are only thinly developed, and some events are either awkwardly structured or completely non sequitur; for example, there is a sex scene toward the latter half of the movie between Erik and Raven/Mystique (Lawrence's character), even though, prior to that moment, the two had barely exchanged a word, let alone any romantic chemistry. Furthermore, the movie often feels like merely a string of "trailer-ready" moments with its endless stream of one-liners and deliberately posed action set pieces. Like in his previous effort, Kick Ass, director Matthew Vaughn seems more concerned with style than genuine substance, and a bombastic score by Henry Jackman irritates more often than it builds tension or atmosphere.
In the end, though, it's not trying to be The Dark Knight. It provides two hours of solid, throwaway entertainment, and fans of the franchise as a whole will be pleased; they are already familiar with and invested in this world, so the dearth of character development will likely be less noticeable or problematic. And let's face it, when James McAvoy gazes at you from a 20-foot screen with those meltingly clear sky-blue eyes of his, it's hard to resist. I only wish the film-makers would stop settling for "eh, it's good enough" and strive for X-traordinary.