Captain America: Brave New World: Inoffensive popcorn fare

I wasn't sure I'd have enough to say about Captain America: Brave New World to be able to blog about it, but I'll give it a try. For one, it was the first Marvel movie I actually watched at the cinema instead of on TV, and it was worth it. Not just for the big screen experience, but for the nerdy content it unlocks on YouTube – I could watch videos not only about the film itself but about predictions for the MCU's future without getting anything spoiled. I've made a deal with my bladder, though: I will watch MCU movies in the cinema in future, but I'll not stick around for the post-credit scenes if my need is too great. This time, there was no problem (although the post-credit scene was underwhelming).

How was the film itself, then? Well... it's by no means an MCU highlight. I thought the script was weak: the banter between Sam Wilson, the newish Captain America, his new young sidekick Joaquin Torres and the grizzled veteran Isaiah Bradley was leaden; the story was uncompelling at times; and then there were lines like "Any word from Betty, my daughter?". Harrison Ford committed himself to the role of newly-elected President Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, but neither he nor anyone else was given a lot to work with. Tim Blake Nelson struggled as the main villain (unlike many others, I didn't hate the augmented-brain design), but he had too much motive and too little menace. He might have worked better as a creepy nerd villain rather than an intimidating mastermind.

In spite of all this, not gonna lie, I had a good time. Maybe I was helped by my low expectations. I was not a fan of Falcon and the Winter Soldier with its preachiness, its dwelling on Sam's unnecessary hang-ups and its leniency towards the ghastly terror teen Karli Morgenthau. With the same people involved in the film, I had some fears that were not alleviated by trailer clips like Ross thundering to Sam: "You're not Steve Rogers" and Sam replying cockily "You're right, Sir, I'm not". Yeah, no reason to sound so pleased about that, Sam.

I may have missed it, but I think Sam's cocky reply was cut from the actual film. If I'm not dreaming this, it's significant for the film as a whole. It has the feel of a film that may have been preachy once, but where all the potentially preachy bits have been cut out. If this is a result of the supposedly extensive re-shoots, I can only applaud it. Sam himself is a sweetie, and his compassion and ability to see the best in people make him a good pick for Steve's successor. Much as I love Bucky, Steve made the right call: Captain America needs to be someone not quite as morally flexible as the former Winter Soldier.

The action parts of the film were thrilling enough, though sometimes giggle-inducingly over-the-top (and that's better than being boring). There are standout performances from Ford and from Carl Lumbly as Isaiah. I didn't care for Isaiah's storyline in Falcon and the Winter Soldier where he had to be a symbol of The Victims of America's Past Wrongdoings; however, as simply an old man who has spent decades wrongfully imprisoned and is terrified of going back to jail, he is very moving. All in all, Captain America: Brave New World is a good-enough popcorn flick, worth seeing once, which manages to be just a little bit heartwarming, too.

It raises one question, though: can a film perhaps be too inoffensive, especially when it's labelled a "political thriller"? Just as it's trying really hard not to be too preachy, it's trying just as hard not to have any bearing on real-life politics at all. "Thunderbolt" Ross may be an oldie, and he may turn into a rage monster towards the end, but there are no obvious resemblances between him and any recent American presidents. His main goal is to broker a treaty with Japan which will give them equal access to an extremely valuable mineral. I mean, if only. 

The truncated role of Ross's Chief of Security Ruth Bat-Seraph is another example of the film taking no risks. Her links to Mossad from the comics have been cut, and now she's simply a former Black Widow, which makes no sense seeing how unwilling she is to believe in the villain's mind control (which was exactly what happened to the Black Widows). Making Ruth comic-accurate would have been offensive to some; cutting her out completely after announcing her presence in the film would have been offensive to others; and so she's stuck in the middle as a character with very little significance to the plot.

For me, it's a question of being careful what I wish for. For years, I have been complaining about heavy-handed politics making its way into popular entertainment, and I stand by that. Even when I agree with the views expressed in various films or TV shows (it does happen), they're hammered home in such an annoying way that I start to feel some sympathy for the opposing point of view. By and large, I do prefer Captain America: Brave New World-style tiptoeing to rolling my eyes over ill-expressed political grandstanding. But the price of inoffensiveness may, in some cases, be a little blandness.

So the upper-class cad is the hero? OK, then

I'm in an intense escapism period book-wise, which explains why there will be a lot of TV and film posts in a row. I've already milked authors like Stephanie Garber and Emily Henry for their blog worth, and don't have that much to add, except a strong recommendation to read them if you want to retreat to a happy book place (and like the genres they're writing in – that's pretty crucial). To find the same kind of escapism on TV, however, is proving surprisingly hard.

All right, that's a forced transition, as I watched the British drama/soap Rivals on Disney Plus last year and not just now. Nevertheless, it is the kind of series you are supposed to watch in an escapist mood. It's based on one of the "bonkbusters" penned by Dame Jilly Cooper, who seems beguilingly jolly. That the fictional county her stories take place in is called "Rutshire" says a lot. What's more, the series appears to be faithful to the spirit of the author: both the setting and the characters' outlook have a near-authentic Eighties feel. This should be right up my alley. But it isn't, quite.

To be honest, I thought it dragged a bit. At the same time, it is well-acted, and every time I was close to giving up a new plot development happened that had me thinking "OK, I want to see how this plays out". But I did spend lot of time wondering why I didn't get more into the series. Now, afterwards, I also wonder: if this show wasn't for me, then who is it for?

Quite a lot of people, it turns out. Rivals is a hit, and I've heard people I'd have thought would have minded the overall positive way upper-class stud Rupert Campbell-Black is depicted (I'll come back to that) praising its watchability. So what is holding me back from joining more wholeheartedly in the fun?

Could it be my bourgeois outlook? It's a strong possibility. I assumed, at the start of the series, that Campbell-Black would be seen as a bad guy, albeit possibly a redeemable one. I actually started Riders by Jilly Cooper once but didn't persevere, and in that novel, I got the impression that Campbell-Black was the villain (though the author clearly shared his pro-hunting stance). In Rivals, though, it didn't take long to figure out that in the rivalry between Campbell-Black and local media mogul Lord Baddingham, we are supposed to side with the former.

Now, I can find it endearing when the English gentry catches a break in the world of TV entertainment. It doesn't happen that often – caricatures of British poshos abound in dramas like Midsomer Murders, Morse and its spinoffs, and many, many others. When Downton Abbey dared to portray the Crawleys as decent people (on the whole), critics sneered. So in a way, I admire Dame Jilly for standing up for the toffs and not giving a whistle for street cred. At the same time, I am solidly middle-class myself, and if there's a fight between a nob and an upstart, I want to be able to side with the upstart.

That's hardly possible here, though, as Baddingham (the upstart in this scenario) is a thoroughly bad lot, and not in an alluring way. It's amazing the way David Tennant can turn off his considerable charm like a tap as Baddingham. There's a brief flash of Doctorish charisma as he's trying to persuade his mistress to go to Spain with him, and an equally brief flicker of vulnerability when he confronts said mistress with a particularly heinous betrayal. But otherwise, Tennant as Baddingham is in continuous creep mode.

So is the series snobbish, then? Well, it tries not to be. It does its best to give us truculent middle-classers reasons to dislike Baddingham that have nothing to do with his modest beginnings. Look how careless he is with his employees. Look at his brusqueness and his prejudices. Look how he puts professionalism aside for petty vengeance. Above all, look how little he appreciates his loyal and supportive wife.  Also, Baddingham finds himself at odds with the hard-hitting left-leaning journalist Declan O'Hara and the successful but teddy-bearish businessman Freddie Jones – just in case we were starting to suspect that his lack of poshness is an issue.

I know I shouldn't be too sniffy about obvious manipulativeness from a show like this, but I can't help finding it a bit tiresome. Another example is how the audience is bludgeoned into hoping Freddie and romance writer Lizzie Vereker (both married) will finally get it off. Lizzie's husband James is the most parodically one-dimensional bad hubby you can imagine. He ignores her. He puts her down. He cheats on her, flagrantly. He straight up recoils when she wants to rekindle their relationship. "Why don't you just divorce the wanker?" Campbell-Black asks, and that is certainly the question.

While I didn't find Rivals to be quite the fizzing champagne bottle of a show I'd hoped, many others did, so it's worth trying out for a good time (be warned, though: there's a jarringly serious rape story right in the middle). Also, I'll be checking out a possible season two, hoping to finally get a handle on Baddingham's mistress Cameron Cook whose motives are a mystery to me – which is welcome in a story where not many things remain mysterious. But Rupert Campbell-Black? Not my type.