Guardians of the Meh-laxy: Movie Review

by thethreepennyguignol

You know the feeling when someone is telling you a joke, and you don’t find it that funny? So the person explains and expands on that joke even more, just because it’s so inconcievable to them that you wouldn’t find this funny? And you try to make it clear that you understnd the joke perfectly well but you just don’t think it’s funny, and then they get all het up and start retelling you bits of the joke over and over again and rolling their eyes at you and calling you humourless becuse DAMMIT THIS JOKE IS BRILLIANT?

That’s sort of what the experience of seeing Guardians of the Galaxy was like for me. Don’t get me wrong, there were some parts of it I really liked-there’s a Christ-Pratt-shaped soft spot in my soul, and bizarrely the talking tree monster, Groot, was my favourite character-but if it becomes clear within the first few minutes of a movie that you and the filmmakers aren’t on the same page, you’re in for a bumpy ride. Here’s what my key problem with the film came down to: I didn’t think the wisecracking raccoon Rocket was funny. And the writers and directors thought he was a HOOT. So much so that they asided a few characters with much more comic potential to allow Rocket to go through all the lines in the trailer while they envisioned the audience literally scrambling for breath between the belly laughs. Now, it’s not all their fault that I hated Rocket-wisecracking animals, with the exception of Donkey from Shrek, make me cringe- but surely you have to prepare for the possibility that you’ve misjudged how funny a particular character is? But no. The people behind Guardians of the Galaxy thought he was a scream, and weren’t interested in the opinions of anyone who thought otherwise.

And there were more things that pissed me off about the movie too. Karen Gillan’s Nebula was solely there to provide reaction shots and a couple of mediocre fight scenes, bearing no immediatley apparent impact on the plot. The entire third act appeared to be the best part of the Phantom Menace shoved together into twenty-five minutes. Michael Rooker’s role consisted entirely of swishing his coat back threateningly to reveal a magic arrow thing and gnashing his pointy teeth, which is a woeful underuse of an excellent character actor and one of the most handsome men on earth (all right, I digress).

Guardians had it’s charm, but it wore pretty thin after two hours of weird plotting and attempts at emotional climax. And I am terribly sorry if you loved this film and what to break me into pieces after this review, because I can see all the things to like in there. They were just eclipsed by that fucking Rocket.