During the lowest moments, when life seems to have run out of joys to supply, when there simply seems no point to being up and about, when all people have failed to console, we throw up our arms in despair and turn to the last constructive alternative: Art—specifically, music. Is it not appropriate then that the two characters in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 who are suffocating in such sadness—Peter Quill and Rocket Raccoon—are as eager to escape into music?
Director James Gunn, as he did with the previous two Guardians films that burst with such irrepressible energy, shows such great taste in his selection of songs, as always. This third film sets the mood by beginning with an acoustic version of Radiohead’s Creep—and really, is there a better song that fits these motley group of rejects who have found solace in each other’s company? I’m a weirdo… What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here. This foundational idea of belonging has always been an integral part of the Guardians films, and this continues with this sequel.
The James Gunn-Guardians films burst with such infectious cinema magic—you know, those specific moments when you sit agape in the presence of audio-visual wonder? An example would be when the filmmaker painted neon art in the second film as Yondu executes a series of entrancing kills using his Yaka arrow.
This film begins with a great cinematic moment too (even if wholly in contrast), as Rocket is moping—and occasionally singing along to ‘Creep’. It’s a great setup and grounds the film in the tragic origins of this character.
Without ever becoming saccharine, the film helps us understand why Rocket is the way he is—and more importantly, why the Guardians are so important to him. In perhaps the most affecting scene of the film—and tears streamed down my face—Rocket screams in distress and expresses his agony. In many ways—and this is a word I kept thinking of about this film—the film is clever.
It’s a film that is so full of heart, yes, but it’s also really clever in how economically and efficiently it uses its emotional ammunition. Take the Rocket breakdown scene, for instance. James Gunn knows that Rocket is opaque for the most part, and hence, he knows the emotional value of such a breakdown scene. Another example is how he plays around with your expectations of the quintessential slow-mo band-of-superheroes walking scene.
The first time we get it, it’s a subversion. The Guardians, in a slow-mo wide-angle shot, are all looking downcast and purposeless—and James Gunn picks this moment for the title. After what seems like a long time, when we have all but forgotten about it, he grants us the superheroes-slowmo-walk—but even here, we have a reluctant Gamora who’s saving the shot from being another iteration of what we see in every Marvel film. There’s always that clever touch.
Which brings me to the Gamora-Quill relationship, another bond in which the film refuses to offer easy pleasures—and tries instead to discover new, more rewarding ways of unearthing emotional depth. Quill sulks a lot—and the film draws humour from it.
Slowly, he begins to make peace with the new Gamora, who never seems like a diluted version of the pre-Infinity War version that was sacrificed by Thanos. In case you are confused about the distinction between both Gamoras, James Gunn cleverly drops a rather expository monologue from Quill, but he unearths humour from it. This isn’t just Quill sharing information for our benefit; this is the film itself poking fun at him for doing it.
It’s a film whose kindness extends beyond thematic exploration. The film itself is kind to its very many characters. It recognises Drax’s strengths, and there’s a wonderful line that plays with his full name, Drax the Destroyer. While on names, there’s a lovely touch about how Rocket becomes Rocket Raccoon—an explanation that reinforces the power of reclaiming identity. There’s a great moment for Cosmo, the Spacedog, as well. Yondu’s second-in-command Kraglin Obfonteri too comes into his own during an important moment.
Perhaps I am feeling compelled to be a bit too kind to this film on account of such a wholesome theatre experience having become rather rare. If I weren’t as kind to this film, I might perhaps talk about the rather chaotic final act in which multiple parties seem to be engaged in battles that aren’t exactly easy to follow. But even when complaining about some generic fighting, I’m reminded of that wonderful ‘one-take’ fight scene in a congested space.
Perhaps I could attack the film’s not-so-memorable villain, The High Evolutionary—a clear analogy for murderous leaders in human history who were obsessed with the notion of ‘purity’ and ‘perfection’. But even here, the word ‘analogy’ serves as a reminder of a funny moment in the film when Drax talks about metaphors and analogies. For each problem I might think of, there’s a great moment I’d rather be talking about.
And then, there’s all the imagination in full visual glory. A fleshy planet that you must surgically slice through before you behold the icky-saccharine interiors of the Orgocorp Headquarters. The strange-looking human-animal hybrid creatures populating Counter-Earth. I could go on. Suffice it to say that I’m just delighted that the film steers clear of that dastardly multiverse idea that has resulted in wholly forgettable films since Endgame. Let’s hope that Marvel takes note of what James Gunn has done for them once again—which, fascinatingly, is his last before he takes over the reins of… DC.
Director: James Gunn Cast: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Will Poulter, Karen Gillan, Sean Gunn, Vin Diesel, Dave Bautista
Ratings: 3.5 out of 5 stars
