Hulk |
Life’s complicated enough for mild-mannered, reclusive geneticist Bruce Banner, as he struggles to harness the potential of cell regenerating mutations and fend off the advances of a military power-maniac hell-bent on a hostile takeover, all whilst working alongside his beautiful ex-girlfriend who has a habit of reminding him of his self-imposed emotional isolation. And so Banner achieves the first qualification for superhero selection; all he wants is 'a quiet life'. Add to this the disturbing yet vague childhood memories, and a sinister genetic inheritance from his mad scientist father, and the stage is set for the 'accidental' exposure to lethal levels of gamma rays, and the familiar shirt-ripping, size-mutating, green rage. Most directors would have reached this point within the first few scenes of the film. But it soon becomes apparent that this isn't your bulk standard, comic hero summer blockbuster. In fact, for the first hour of the film, you find yourself wondering if you’re ever actually going to see the comic strip star in all his muscular, gigantic green glory. The father-child alienation theme is explored in some detail within the four main characters, but without ever really finding resolution. By delving into the deeper, darker nature of Banner's character, Ang Lee gives the film a tense, psychological edginess, at the expense of much of the continuous colossal comic book action which many would have expected. Despite covering a diverse range of settings and genres, all of Ang Lee's films are essentially stories of human relationships, focusing in on a few key characters, and following their unfolding lives, paying meticulous detail to the interplay and the interweaving themes of love, loss, survival and hope. Lee seems both fascinated and preoccupied with finding, then telling, the human story. And Hulk is no exception although occasionally it suffers from a little too much preoccupation with the human element, and an unspoken reluctance to linger too long on the monstrous aspect of the Hulk. At times this means that the pace is unexpectedly slow, and that when the action does arrive, it seems to sit awkwardly next to the reflective exploration of Banner’s internal struggles with his past, and the ensuing turmoil as he wrestles with the lurking, rage-fueled monster within. :: Tom West |