The Avengers **½

Director: Joss Whedon
Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth
Samuel L. Jackson, Mark Ruffalo, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner
Tom Hiddleston, Clark Gregg, Cobie Smulders
Stellan Skarsgård, Gwyneth Paltrow

The Avengers feels like a success because its very existence seems to be fulfilling a promise made to us with the advent of comic book movies: that one day we would get to see an epic popcorn flick in which all our favorite superheroes would get to have some fun together.
What once was thought to be impossible due to technology, budget and other factors, has finally become a reality and the result is disappointing because in the process, the film has become the equivalent of opening gifts as grown ups on Christmas morning: the magic has all but vanished.
The first part of the movie, consists of the "let's put on a show" plot that was much better used in last year's The Muppets, since the faces involved are all familiar (or at least they should given that this movie has no less than six prequels) all the audience is expecting to see is what they will do together.
The film however takes its time setting up the stage as we see Thor (Hemsworth) come back to Earth to stop his psychotic brother Loki (Hiddleston) from invading it. Joining the Norse god are brilliant playboy/Iron-Man (Downey Jr.), the slightly passive aggressive Bruce Banner (Ruffalo) whose Hulk is on almost permanent sleep, the thawed Captain America (Evans), the sexy agent known as Black Widow (Johansson) and ace archer Hawkeye (Renner), all led by agent extraordinaire Nick Fury (Jackson who seems to be more alive than in any movie he's made in at least a decade).
The entire film revolves around this group of heroes kicking Loki's ass and preventing imminent destruction at the hand of weird aliens who ride intergalactic mopeds and use fish like spaceships to wreak havoc on New York City (because where else do space invasions begin?).
The film often lies at a very awkward spot because its execution is often marred by the Whedonisms being repressed by the very epicness of it all. Whedon is an extraordinary director who has no trouble alternating and even normalizing the relationship between fantasy and "real life". Some of his greatest creations combine vampires, space cowboys and clones with a deep sense of longing, melancholy and geek humor.
His persona shines during some key moments in the film, mostly through, who would've guessed it, Thor and Captain America, the two towering men whose latent humanity shines through under Whedon's sensitive directing.
The Avengers thrives on its all-star ensemble but the running time (already excessive) doesn't give us enough time to delight ourselves with our favorite characters, unlike the Ocean's Eleven movies this one doesn't know how and when to use its assets best. It tries to be fair, when it should've been selfish in its purposes. As much as Downey Jr. shines as Stark, his smugness can get too grating, especially when Whedon is making Hemsworth and Evans act! 
It's a shame that the director never really knows what to do with the larger setpieces, because he has proven time and time again just how great he is at action sequences (remember the sense of Indiana Jones-like adventure he infused in the whole of Serenity?) The Avengers overflows with moments of almost-greatness that feel abrupt, as if Whedon wanted to jump but remembered he might break a bone upon landing.
The movie is unarguably efficient in its coherence, but it's almost too coherent, when it could have been playful, thrilling. Instead of inspiring us to want and turn the page to see what's next, more often than not we end up wondering if something fun will ever happen. Comic book movies are often a double edged sword because those who concentrate on the profoundness contained in the post-war plight for salvation are never really "fun" (any Batman movie under Nolan), and those that concentrate on thrills leave audiences feeling empty and self indulgent (any Spider-Man under Raimi).
Perhaps to concentrate too much on this would lead to an exploration of why comic books even matter and by the end we'd have lost all notion of the product known as The Avengers, which despite Whedon's attempts, misfires more than it succeeds and reminds us that the whole sometimes is lesser than the sum of its parts.

Mother and Child **

Director: Rodrigo García
Cast: Annette Bening, Naomi Watts, Kerry Washington
Samuel L. Jackson, David Morse, Shareeka Epps, Amy Brenneman
Marc Blucas, Jimmy Smits, Cherry Jones, Elpidia Carrillo
S. Epatha Merkerson, David Ramsey

There is something about Rodrigo García's vision of women that feels both spot-on and terribly, terribly cliché.
At times his characters achieve an intense melancholy and feel so lived-in that it's completely annoying how seconds later he forces them to deliver elaborate dialogues that make them sound like they've just arrived from Peyton Place.
In this case his screenplay centers on the relationships between mothers and children. We have Karen (Bening) a middle aged woman whose life was marked by the fact she gave up her daughter for adoption almost forty years before. This has made her cold and so afraid of people that she doesn't know how to respond to the attentions she receives from a new coworker (Smits).
Elizabeth (Watts), the daughter, is a successful attorney who uses sex as an asset and the fact that she was abandoned as an excuse to have no attachments. "I don't have expectations to fulfill" she tells her new boss (Jackson) before she begins an affair with him.
Then there's Lucy (Washington) a woman contemplating adoption given she can't have children of her own. This complicates her marriage since her husband (Ramsey) is reluctant to raising a stranger.
The film unfolds like something González Iñárritu would've made as we see how the three parallel stories eventually converge into one massive, tear-your-heart-out conclusion.
What fails in Mother and Child is that because of García's need to be poetic (usually highlighted by his elaborate camera moves and unrealistic dialogues) we never really think there's an emotional peak coming our way.
We are usually left wondering what will be the climax and this doesn't mean there's some sort of mystery going on, it's just that the director sometimes even forgets some of the stories he's telling.
There's a massive disconnect in Lucy's story especially as we see the other two women move forward in time and she's stuck in the same episode (that or either a freakishly long pregnancy from a mother to be played with charming confidence by Epps).
The movie is saved because of the performers. Bening provides beautifully nuanced work and it's a wonder to see her because the plot first tries to turn her into Charlotte Vale from Now, Voyager yet the actress finds a way to move past this extremely melodramatic mood and by the movie's end she has bloomed into a full blown human being.
Bening is stuck with some preposterous scenes where she writes letters to the daughter she has never met, any other actress would've turned these moments into exaggerated postcard moments, Bening though seems to know there's an awful amount of silliness to them and performs them like a duty, which gives her character a natural quality impossible to judge.
Watts is good but the film under uses her and turns her too much into a femme fatale (Elizabeth would've been played by Glenn Close in the 80's).
The film's revelation is actually Washington who is able to do so much with so little. Her character disappears for rather long amounts of time and we find ourselves wondering what is happening to her, more than anyone else in the film.
The manner in which she completely gives into Lucy is remarkable. She is able to embody sexuality, despair and intense warmth without recurring to cheap dramatic tricks. In a particular scene as she wonders how to deal with a baby's needs she screams "who the fuck does she think she is?" and this is perhaps the only moment in the entire film where we fully grasp what it's like to be a mother.
The pain, confusion and relentless patience that comes with motherhood isn't really easy to convey or to understand and Washington does this with effortless grace.
Mother and Child often feels rushed, despite García's languorous directing and it's fair to think that it might've worked better in serial form where we could've gotten to know these women more and understand some of their rash decisions.
Cinematic form turns it into an obnoxious condensed soap opera that never does justice to the larger themes it wants to study.

Iron Man 2 **

Director: Jon Favreau
Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle
Mickey Rourke, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Samuel L. Jackson
Garry Shandling, John Slattery, Clark Gregg

Iron Man 2 is an unapologetically American snapshot of current times. It's unapologetic because it shows no caution in glorifying excess; from its convoluted plot, to its thinly disguised allegories about politics, economics and society, almost every element proves to be cringe worthy and deluded.
When the film opens, Tony Stark (Downey Jr.) appears in front of a huge crowd to unveil his company's grand world fair.
Surrounded by perky cheerleaders and massive screens he's a combination of Steve Jobs, an evangelical guru and Barack Obama. As he gloats about how he "privatized world peace" while his fans roar excitedly, he's a disturbing reminder of a time and age where politicians have become more rock stars than actual politics professionals.
When Tony's father (played by Slattery) appears on a screen in all his Walt Disney like glory, it's impossible not to chuckle at its direct aim at American culture icons but also expect the movie to deliver much more.
If the screenplay, written with slight strokes of cynicism by Justin Theroux, had explored this more thoroughly, perhaps the movie would've resulted in something more interesting and compelling.
Instead after this, the movie becomes an amalgam of Freudian issues, lazy character development and superhero movie clichés.
It turns out that Tony is dying; the palladium in his arc reactor is poisoning him and he chooses to live his last days in decadence.
He hands out his company to loyal companion Pepper Potts (Paltrow), disregards Congress' wish to use the iron suit for the military, enters a public feud with rival Hammer industries (Rockwell plays CEO Justin Hammer) and embarks on a partying binge that leaves disastrous PR repercussions.
While Tony desperately seeks for attention and throws technologically aided tantrums, an evil plan is forming across the world.
Russian physicist Ivan Vanko (Rourke) has decided to seek vengeance from Stark Co. believing they stole his father's iron suit technology and destroyed his life.
Ivan and Tony then create a facile dichotomy: they are both trying to solve unfinished business concerning their fathers, they represent polar ideological differences (the film's juxtaposition of a McCarthy-ian hearing featuring "good guy" Stark, with cuts of the evil Russian building his own war machine are tacky to say the least) and in a fourth wall breaking way, they embody a tête-à-tête of two of the most fascinating comebacks in recent Hollywood history.
With so many things to choose to concentrate in, Iron Man 2 chooses them all and becomes an uneven spectacle that sometimes drags, sometimes excites but rarely engages.
The film is built from many parts that don't work well together and for a film about a man made out of iron, this technological mishap metaphor can't help but feel ironic.
It's a pleasure to see Downey Jr. in action though. Reminding us why choosing him to play Stark was a genius casting decision, he delivers his lines with enough snap and wry humor to evoke Cary Grant.
He's one of the few actors who can make snark seem lovable and his scenes with Gwyneth Paltrow are the best thing in the movie. Their chemistry is delightful and might be the one thing you want to see more of.
The rest of the cast does satisfying job, Rourke is effective, if not memorable while Cheadle and Johansson are vastly underused (they are supposed to have bigger storylines in upcoming sequels) and Rockwell delivers his best Tom Cruise on cocaine in the 80's impression to make Hammer the most annoying character in the film.
All the parts never amount to much and the entire film relies on stereotypes that the first installment refreshed.
When it comes down to capturing the film in a single moment, a scene comes to mind that's both pathetic and unsuccessful: a drunk Tony Stark pees the iron man suit after which he proceeds to dance to no other than Daft Punk's Robot Rock.
If the song choice isn't wildly imaginative, it's the sense of trying so hard to impress that makes this Iron Man a tin can in dire need of a repair.