Ant-Man

Ant-Man (12A)

USA 2015 119 mins Dir: Peyton Reed Cast: Paul Rudd, Michael Douglas, Evangeline Lilly, Corey Stoll, Michael Pena, Bobby Cannavale

As the Marvel Cinematic Universe forever expands and sucks ever more characters into its orbit, one senses the budgets expanding but the interest levels waning. Case in point: this summer’s Avengers: Age of Ultron that gamely attempted to juggle way too many characters and subplots for its own good. The end result was a movie that lacked the joie de vivre of its 2012 predecessor, overburdened by franchise expectations.

Marvel’s latest offering, Ant-Man, by contrast, pleasingly reins everything in and offers a far smaller ensemble than we’ve been used to seeing of late. Compared to Ultron, the result is refreshingly light on its feet. But there’s another key Marvel release that casts a shadow – last year’s Guardians of the Galaxy, one that frequently went so far off the reservation into offbeat quirkiness that it’s thrown down a formidable gauntlet for the MCU movies following in its wake.

It’s unfortunate then that while Ant-Man passes the time amicably and breezily, it can’t help but come across as bland next to the weirder, pop-culture infused Guardians. For starters, there’s no opening scene to rival the sheer unexpected joy of Chris Pratt dancing and miming to Redbone’s Come Get Your Love. Instead, we get the familiar beats, beginning with a 1980s prelude in which a creepily de-aged Michael Douglas as scientist Hank Pym angrily breaks ties with his SHIELD associates (fan-pleasing cameos from John Slattery as Howard Stark and Hayley Atwell as Agent Carter).

Inventor of the Ant-Man suit, one that allows its wearer to shrink down to insect-sized levels whilst maintaining super-strength, Pym is anxious that his technology will fall into the wrong hands and vows to hide it. Fast forward to the present day and low-level cat burglar Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) is released from prison. Estranged from his wife and young daughter, finds himself lapsing back into his old ways when he’s lured into a house to steal valuables.

However, he soon discovers it’s a test set up by the now ageing Pym: it turns out the latter has identified Scott as the potential new incumbent of the Ant-Man suit, a role that allows for both personal redemption and a dash of world-saving on the side. Handy when slap-head baddie and Pym’s former protégé Darren Cross (Corey Stoll) reveals that he’s stolen Pym’s technology and developed a diabolical new variation of it called the Yellowjacket. Pym’s other secret weapon is his tough-minded daughter Hope van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly) who has infiltrated Cross’ organisation.

One of Ant-Man’s most enjoyable innovations is its fusion of the superhero movie with the heist caper. Refreshingly, there’s no thunderous world-saving needed here and the stakes are intentionally lower, as the miniaturised Lang must break in and make good on his skills by stealing Cross’ own shrinking suit, helmer Peyton Reed building anticipation through effects-heavy shrinking sequences that veer haphazardly between the chaotic and the exciting. Christophe Beck’s vigorous Lalo Schifrin/Jerry Goldsmith aping score is another major plus.

However, there’s little else in Ant-Man that could be described as unpredictable. The narrative is somewhat plodding and the character dynamics are pedestrian, whether it’s the overly familiar pupil/mentor relationship or the angst between Pym and Hope, whose refreshingly matter-of-fact characterisation is undercut by lumpen writing that, at one point, literally stops the action for a tragic flashback sequence that borders on parody.

No doubt original director Edgar Wright would have brought far more textural pizzazz to the script he originally co-authored with Joe Cornish before abruptly departing the project in 2014. It’s hard not to salivate at the prospect of what this film would have looked like with a tactile, Scott Pilgrim-esque visual sense, although flashes of Wright’s wit do occasionally shine through in the script, notably some brilliantly funny montage sequences relayed by a scene-stealing, motor-mouthed Michael Pena as Lang’s buddy Luis.

In fact, it’s the casting that often saves the movie. Rudd is a blandly affable presence, although it’s not exactly a stretched performance, Douglas is relaxed and composed and Stoll chews the scenery up as a villain who simply loves to be bad. Even so, just as Ant-Man creeps up on his enemies when they’re not expecting, so too does Pena prove to be the film’s secret weapon, puncturing any laboured exposition with goofy charm. His presence, plus a thrillingly frenzied final act that picks up where most Marvel movies fall down, help ensure that Ant-Man, whilst no Marvel classic, has enough feelers pointed in the right directions.