He has his fans, but, on hearing of this summer’s latest blockbuster, many filmgoers will surely be thinking: Green Lantern? Is he the same as the Green Hornet? Though the character first appeared as far back as 1940, in All-American Comics, he’s hardly as well-known as the likes of Superman, Batman or Spider-Man. The reserves of affection and goodwill on which other DC Comics heroes who have leapt, flown and biffed dastardly enemies in big-screen adaptations can draw scarcely exist.
Martin Campbell, who directed The Legend of Zorro (2005) and Casino Royale (2006), confronts this challenge by opening Green Lantern with a lengthy, suitably portentous exposition of the film’s backstory. Unfortunately, this explanation isn’t very clear; 10 seconds in and things are already foggy .
The universe, as far as one can tell, is divided into squillions of “sectors” that are looked after by the Green Lantern Corps, a band of creatures who wear rings that allow them to do almost anything they like so long as they are free of fear. They’re now faced with an enemy named Parallax, a vast pullulating, ash-black blob creature best described as a thingie, that’s so powerful they’re forced to turn to a human for help.
That human is Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds), a test pilot whose brilliance is matched by an arrogance mitigated only by his traumatic childhood during which he witnessed his father (Jon Tenney), also a champion pilot, crash to his death. He has an on-off relationship with Carol Ferris (Blake Lively), a personable young woman who’s about to inherit her father’s aircraft company and whose presence, more importantly, goes some way to ensuring the film isn’t totally a boy’s-only club. Now, after one of the extra-terrestrials crashes to earth and passes on a green ring to him, he embarks on a mission to slay the devilish Parallax and become the alpha Green Lantern.
Hal spends much of the rest of the film shuttling between planets as if he has intergalactic frequent-flyer airmiles to burn. Among the most engaging scenes are those in which he’s taught the art of fighting and how best to wield his new, gravity-defying powers by Sinestro (Mark Strong), pointy-eared leader of the Corps, who carries himself like a 1930s fascist. “Look,” he says at one point, “I’m uncomfortable with the word hero.” It shows – and not in a good way.
The best superhero movies have a healthy dose of absurdity to them. A galvanic joy, too: they capture their young audiences’ anxieties, their dreams of escape, their yearning for liberation. Reynolds doesn’t convey any of those qualities. He’s a competent actor, and has a striking physique that he shows off many times, but, with his undistinguished hair and cross-eyed expression, he looks like a creepy junior lawyer. Not only does he fail to make us laugh or our hearts go woosh, but he doesn’t generate any romantic heat with Slater.
Much better is Peter Sarsgaard as Hector Hammond, a brilliant scientist who has always been treated scornfully by his senator father (Tim Robbins) and who, having been infected by outer-galactic forces, mutates into a cackling, swollen-headed, yellow-eyed beast out to slay the Green Lantern. Sarsgaard excels at injecting wit and genuine pathos into a character who could have been just a passive-aggressive sadsack.
Less effective is Robbins, who struggles to be either animated or malevolent enough to make his son’s transformation into a murderous misanthrope seem plausible. Angela Bassett has a seriously underwritten role as a government scientist with a tragic past.
The lumbering, moralistic screenplay doesn’t give Slater’s character a single memorable line of dialogue to deliver. The longer the film goes on, the more she descends into cooing, girly sidekick.
The sci-fi landscapes as well as the near-druidical parliament of some of the Corps elders are vividly realised. The aerial dogfights in which Hal shows his aeronautic chops make telling use of 3D. But it’s James Newton Howard’s score, whose lumpy bombastics sound like nothing so much as a Red Hot Chili Peppers tribute band, that best captures the spirit of this earnest and militantly generic film that sets up the likelihood of a sequel during its final credits without delivering any convincing reasons why anyone should be excited by the prospect.
Director: Martin Campbell; starring: Ryan Reynolds, Jon Tenney, Blake Lively, Mark Strong, Tim Robbins. Rating: * *
12A Cert., 114 min
Martin Campbell, who directed The Legend of Zorro (2005) and Casino Royale (2006), confronts this challenge by opening Green Lantern with a lengthy, suitably portentous exposition of the film’s backstory. Unfortunately, this explanation isn’t very clear; 10 seconds in and things are already foggy .
The universe, as far as one can tell, is divided into squillions of “sectors” that are looked after by the Green Lantern Corps, a band of creatures who wear rings that allow them to do almost anything they like so long as they are free of fear. They’re now faced with an enemy named Parallax, a vast pullulating, ash-black blob creature best described as a thingie, that’s so powerful they’re forced to turn to a human for help.
That human is Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds), a test pilot whose brilliance is matched by an arrogance mitigated only by his traumatic childhood during which he witnessed his father (Jon Tenney), also a champion pilot, crash to his death. He has an on-off relationship with Carol Ferris (Blake Lively), a personable young woman who’s about to inherit her father’s aircraft company and whose presence, more importantly, goes some way to ensuring the film isn’t totally a boy’s-only club. Now, after one of the extra-terrestrials crashes to earth and passes on a green ring to him, he embarks on a mission to slay the devilish Parallax and become the alpha Green Lantern.
Hal spends much of the rest of the film shuttling between planets as if he has intergalactic frequent-flyer airmiles to burn. Among the most engaging scenes are those in which he’s taught the art of fighting and how best to wield his new, gravity-defying powers by Sinestro (Mark Strong), pointy-eared leader of the Corps, who carries himself like a 1930s fascist. “Look,” he says at one point, “I’m uncomfortable with the word hero.” It shows – and not in a good way.
Much better is Peter Sarsgaard as Hector Hammond, a brilliant scientist who has always been treated scornfully by his senator father (Tim Robbins) and who, having been infected by outer-galactic forces, mutates into a cackling, swollen-headed, yellow-eyed beast out to slay the Green Lantern. Sarsgaard excels at injecting wit and genuine pathos into a character who could have been just a passive-aggressive sadsack.
Less effective is Robbins, who struggles to be either animated or malevolent enough to make his son’s transformation into a murderous misanthrope seem plausible. Angela Bassett has a seriously underwritten role as a government scientist with a tragic past.
The lumbering, moralistic screenplay doesn’t give Slater’s character a single memorable line of dialogue to deliver. The longer the film goes on, the more she descends into cooing, girly sidekick.
The sci-fi landscapes as well as the near-druidical parliament of some of the Corps elders are vividly realised. The aerial dogfights in which Hal shows his aeronautic chops make telling use of 3D. But it’s James Newton Howard’s score, whose lumpy bombastics sound like nothing so much as a Red Hot Chili Peppers tribute band, that best captures the spirit of this earnest and militantly generic film that sets up the likelihood of a sequel during its final credits without delivering any convincing reasons why anyone should be excited by the prospect.
Director: Martin Campbell; starring: Ryan Reynolds, Jon Tenney, Blake Lively, Mark Strong, Tim Robbins. Rating: * *
12A Cert., 114 min
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