Benedict Cumberbatch is one of Earth-1218's most talented and versatile thespians, but just try telling that to casting directors. Thus, in Doctor Strange, the actor is given an opportunity to belt out his greatest hits with a patrician American accent.
We’re not complaining. Who among us would argue against a blast of Stateside Sherlock or Karaoke Khan or Tape-Recorded Turing?
The Marvelverse’s nominally grooviest superhero, should, in theory, allow for some small deviations from the blockbuster studio’s tried-and-tested formula. In theory.
Steven Strange – a brilliant neurosurgeon turned sorcerer – made his comic book debut in 1963, and has the contemporaneous mumbo-jumbo to prove it. Where Iron Man has science and firepower, or Thor has deity, Strange, in the aftermath of a digit-destroying car-crash, travels to Nepal to learn about chakras and astral planes, man.
Under the guidance of the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton, the winning entry in a sphinx cat show) – with additional grinds provided by a comically earnest librarian (Benedict Wong, who steals the show) and the even more po-faced Moro (Chiwetel Ejiofor) – Strange soon excels at shooting special effects out of his fingers.
Meanwhile, over on Team Baddie, the Ancient One’s ex-disciple Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen) and various non-speaking flunkies are hoping to summon Dormammu, a warlord from the “Dark Dimension”. Cue various bits of exposition that recall Jedi lectures on midi-chlorians and big showy stand-offs that leave the viewer to ponder: “If this is a magic battle, why are they thumping each other?”
The mysticism underlying Strange's origin story allows for several 2001: A Space Odyssey-inspired SFX extravaganzas and lots of post-Minecraft, post-Inception building folding. But this is the Marvelverse, where every film must tick certain boxes: Stan Lee cameo? Check. Mid-credits teaser trailer for next Avengers flick (that would be Thor)? Check. Post-credit teaser trailer for next Doctor Strange flick? Check.
Strange? Chance would be a fine thing. Our new hero is RDJ’s Tony Stark with about 10 per cent less snark and 10 per cent more pop-culture references. Our new devourer of planets is interchangeable with the Silver Surfer’s old nemesis Galactus. Our new marginalised love interest (a criminally wasted Rachel McAdams) may work in A&E, but she’s Pepper Potts MD.
Fair enough, we suppose. After all, if it ain't broke, etc. Besides, these small deviations prove better than none at all. Nimble dialogue and a constellation of capable - if mostly whitewashed – stars ensure this is a rather livelier creation than this year's Captain America: Civil War.
Who cares if Strange's accoutrements (the Cloak of Levitation and Eye of Agamotto) make one think of holy Mormon undergarments: the film's new-age clap-trap still makes a lot more sense than anything in Ant Man.
Expect $1 billion at the box office. Expect critics to get called DC shills for noting that Marvel’s cookie-cutter continues to produce more pleasing shapes than its Warner Bros rival. Expect the expected.
