Let me get this out of the way first: Im a fan of Joss Whedon. He is, if nothing else, a geek’s geek, in the truest and best sense of the word. Now, this doesnt mean Im a fan of Buffy or Angel, mind you. Cry foul if you want, but being a fan of the creator doesnt automatically make one a fan of their entire oeuvre. That being said, I havent even watched a single episode of either series, so I should alter my statement to “Im not a fan *yet*”

However, ‘Firefly’ and the ensuing film ‘Serenity’ captured my mind and heart like no other. And Whedon’s writing run on ‘The Astonishing X-Men’ was unparalleled. In both, he put on display a dysfunctional family constantly on the verge of collapse in the face of adversity. Granted, the former were a crew of space pirates in a future modeled after Reconstruction-era America, and the latter a band of mutant superheroes, but at their core, they both functioned on the same basic principle of the fucked-up family that manages to come together when they and the worlds they inhabit need them most.

So when it was announced that Whedon would be writing and directing ‘The Avengers,’ I, and many like me, were collectively stoked. This was to be the biggest Marvel movie to date, the culmination of over four years of massively successful superhero films, each part of their own distinct franchise, who come together as the ultimate dysfunctional family.
Who better to helm this beast than Whedon?

The film doesn’t disappoint.

(MILD SPOILERS AHEAD)

‘The Avengers’ picks up where each of the respective Marvel films left off. Captain America (Chris Evans) has been thawed out and folded into SHIELD, attempting to acclimate to his new surroundings. Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is in Asgard, keeping a watchful eye on the Earthrealm following his exiling of adopted brother and fellow demigod Loki to cosmic locations unknown. Bruce Banner (new-to-the-franchise Mark Ruffalo, giving previous Banner Edward Norton a serious run for his money) is keeping a low profile in the Third World, offering his services as a doctor-for-hire while keeping his rage in check. Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) has relocated to New York City, consulting for SHIELD from atop his Empire State-dwarfing corporate tower. Nick Fury (Samuel Motherfucking Jackson) is working underground with Dr. Selvig (Stellan Skarsgard), deconstructing the energy patterns of The Tesseract, the Asgardian cosmic cube that powered Hydra’s weaponry, aided by right-hand woman Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders, being somewhat underused) and Agent Phil Coulson (returning fan-favorite Clark Gregg). Keeping watch over all is expert marksman Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner). And SHIELD agent Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) is on assignment in Mother Russia.

Loki (a sneeringly wonderful Tom Hiddleston) suddenly appears in SHIELD’s underground research bunker, “burdened with great purpose.” Aided by alien technology, he steals the Tesseract (along with some choice human mind-slaves) with the intent to open a portal to his otherworldy benefactors’ realm, in order to use their army’s might to subjugate Earth’s masses to his rule. In the face of this threat, Fury seeks permission from a shady international council (you can tell they’re shady as their leader is character actor supreme Powers Boothe) to activate the Avengers Initiative. As SHIELD begins to round up Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it seems that they may have more trouble dealing with each other, let alone Loki and his impending alien army.

When the in-fighting starts, the film offers so many moments of pure unadulterated geek glee, as heroes battle one another in an attempt to assert leadership over the group. Reluctant to join the fray is Banner, lest “the Other Guy,’ as he calls him, should make an unwelcome appearance. Tension is alleviated by snippets of Agent Coulson geeking out over the presence of Captain America, and Gregg handles the scenes with his typical pitch-perfect delivery. The plot slickens as Loki allows himself to be captured and taken aboard SHIELD’s impressive HeliCarrier, and it becomes apparent that Fury might be keeping secrets of his own (“Of course he has secrets,” Stark muses. “He’s a spy!”). The powder keg is set to blow, and the words exchanged between the bickering meta-humans are priceless. Whedon has always had a scalpel-sharp wit for keenly observant and relevant dialogue (‘ALIEN: Resurrection’ notwithstanding). The character of Tony Stark seems almost tailor-made to spout Whedonisms. As internal tensions mount, disaster does indeed strike, and all aboard are placed in mortal danger, forcing them to work together to save the lives of all. However, its only when writer/director Whedon gives in to his all-too-well-known impulse to off an important and beloved character (I’m still reeling from Wash!), that the assembled Avengers truly have an offense worthy of their namesake. Reunited and reinvigorated, they make haste for Manhattan as Loki opens the portal, setting the stage for a third act finale of action that lasts nearly 40 minutes.

And it is glorious.

This sequence alone is worth the 3D ticket price, as alien marauders lay siege to the city in aerial JetSkis, with giant bio-mechanical beasts in tow. Every hero gets their moment to shine, but the standout is Hulk, who when ordered by Cap to ‘Smash,’ does so with such awesome power and destructive abandon, I found myself short of breath as I took it all in. Not only does the CGI Hulk look his best here, incorporating Ruffalo’s facial animations and motion-captured movements, but almost anything he does received cheers from the audience at the midnight screening I attended. Whether he’s double fisting alien hordes, whipping Loki around like a goddamned ragdoll, or delivering what is arguably one of the best and most satisfying suckerpunches in cinematic history, the majority of this finale belongs to Hulk. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Ruffalo gives what is arguably the film’s best performance as Banner, with Hiddleston and Downey, Jr. being close seconds.

The movie never feels as long as it is (clocking in at just under 2 & ½ hours), and moves rather quickly and efficiently from scene to scene, never lagging. This film could have easily been mismanaged by a lesser writer/director, who might have let one hero become the central focus over the others or worse, fallen into the pit of stagnancy that plagued similarly roster-heavy films like ‘Spider-Man 3,’ but as I stated before, Whedon knows how to write a dysfunctional family story, and handles the challenge presented by ‘The Avengers’ with the kind of skill that he has always shown. Perhaps now he will receive the mainstream recognition and adoration that we Scooby Gang-ers, Browcoats, and recipients of a PhD In Horribleness all know he deserves. This is how its done, folks. And its done in such a satisfying fashion, that when the movies ends, as all Marvel flicks have, with an in-credit sequence that had me gleefully giggling in fanboy fashion, you want nothing more than to watch it all over again.

I joined tumblr for reasons unknown. I used to blog religiously on Myspace back when Myspace was Myspace, but when that place became a ghost town, I figured this would be a good place to post my thoughts. As you can see, I havent exactly done a bang-up job. However, Ive decided to use my tumblr for a different purpose, as the text constraints of other social media sites tend to get in the way of any points I try to make. So here we go. Here I go. My tumblr is gonna be mine in the best way I know how. Enjoy

You know, its funny. I’ve known you practically since birth. Your mom was pregnant with you when my mom was pregnant with my little brother. We were raised together. Same daycare center, using your family’s membership to the public pool, sleepovers galore, holidays ad nauseum, etc.

We were set to become lifelong friends, if not more.

And then I moved away.

And we lost touch. For nearly a decade.

Thank god for social networking, I guess.

Years after our friendship was cut short, we were reunited during an unassuming visit to my hometown. Drinks had, numbers exchanged, the whole nine. You said you had it for me bad back in the day. I said it was mutual.

So here we were. Playing out our pre-adolescent crushes in adulthood (or at least what passes for adulthood for out generation).

We shouldve known better.

I shouldve, at any rate.

During the course of our short-lived courtship, you made mw believe. Believe that a future was possible. For us. Against my better judgment, I allowed the trapdoor to open, and I fell. Hard. You claimed that you had done the same.

Once again: I shouldve known better.

Kardashian weddings have lasted longer than we did. At least the audience is in on the joke there.

Me?

I was the joke.

Why didnt you just tell me? Let me know that you were done satisfying your last vestige of teenage horniness dragged into your twenties? I wouldve had no problem being the answer to your quarterlife crisis if you had only let me know.

Honesty, it would seem, is hardly the best policy.

Being 260miles away from you was already bad enough. But feeling distance far beyond that when you were right next to me? That was worse.

And like that, you pulled away. Put everything on hold. Left me hanging. For 40 days and 40 nights, I waited. For you to either come to your senses or let me go.

You didnt even have the decency to break my heart in person. No, you just ripped it out, handed it to me, and walked away. I had to do what you were too cowardly to. I stomped on it for you, and have been picking up the pieces ever since.

But its your loss.

If youd have let me, I wouldve loved you til the end. Unconditionally and without question.

I dont think I’ll ever know what made you so scared. So vulnerable. So apprehensive. I’ll never understand why you chose to be so vehement in the aftermath, so exacting with the fallout.

I guess these things happen.

Like I said, you allowed me to believe in a future that I had never thought possible.

And now, here I am. Im choosing to make that future for myself. With someone who knows what they want and isnt afraid to make me a part of it.

I hope your solitude is a comfort on those cold nights to come.

Im done with you and your ridiculous head games. Done with trying to make myself fit into the box you had designated for me.

I hope you wise up, and soon. I healed quickly. The next guy might not be so lucky. Dont waste his time. Or yours.

You’ll always be a friend. But I’ll not be your fucking ragdoll.

I do it a lot. Waiting for my car to work again, waiting for paychecks to be delivered, waiting for a cast list to be posted, waiting for that friend that swore today would be the day we’d hang out, waiting for a girl that finds the idea of being with me as appealing as the reality for a change…

Its torture, day in and day out.

But, what else can I do but wait for things to get better

Sometimes it means realizing that there’s no such thing as a sure thing. If something is “meant to be,” then it would have fucking been.

Its said that when The Universe closes a door on you, another is opened somewhere else. Or at least a window. In my case, its neither. Its usually a rusted, out-of-code fire escape, on the verge of collapse. Each time I set foot on it, I feel it creak and groan under my weight, and I wonder: “Is it going to kill me this time?”

So once again, I find myself forced to use the rickety old structure, placing one foot tenatively on its roughly corrugated surface, praying that it holds for just one more time…