'Venom': Tom Hardy’s Parasite Antihero Film Is Laughable & Septic [Review]

An idea is like a virus, they say. It’s resilient, highly contagious, and even the smallest seed of an idea can grow, and grow to define or destroy you. In Sony’s not-really-anti, anti-superhero movie about an extraterrestrial intestinal worm, an incredibly ill-advised idea takes hold and is seen through to the bitter, ridiculous end: the parasite is Venom, a protozoa alien that infect and overwhelms its unsuspecting human host victim, and like the biotoxin germs that leave the protagonist gravely unwell, the all-consumingly cartoonish concepts in “Venom” are regrettably defining, self-immolating and gag-reflexively misjudged.

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In “Venom,” Tom Hardy stars as the bro-y Eddie Brock, a hopped-up, blue-collar-y, investigative man-of-the-people TV reporter; a type of Fuhgeddaboudit Brooklyn yutz or New Jersey halfwit transplanted to San Francisco because of a girl (his district attorney girlfriend played by Michelle Williams). A caffeinated, dog-with-a-bone do-gooder trying to expose corruption, Brock’s career falls apart when he bites off more than he can chew while accusing wealthy genius Carlton Drake (Riz Ahmed) and his Life Foundation with groundless allegations of unethical human experiments. Overnight, Brock, fired, becomes a loser and through the clumsy plot machinations of a crashed spaceship, the girlfriend that dumps him, and a virtuous scientist (Jenny Slate), Brock encounters an alien symbiote that plagues his body and mind, while inadvertently giving him instinctually self-preservational superpowers, strengths, and agile abilities. Already goofy, unbalanced and awkward— choppy editing and sloppy transitions endlessly marring the first act— it’s all downhill from there.

READ MORE: ‘Venom’ Producers & Director Are Baffled Why Fans Assumed The Film Would Be Rated-R, Claiming It Was Always PG-13

A mad scientist-y, Jekyll and Hyde struggle for control—the angel vs. the fiend— is imprinted in the molecularly abnormal core of “Venom,” at least superficially. A film seemingly about agency, superiority and the battle that rages within ourselves, the battleground for supremacy courses through its DNA. It’s in the fundamental symbiote/host conceit of the film—that parasite and organism tussle—the little guy vs. corporate villain scuffle, but also the aggressive war within the movie itself. Sure, thematically, it sounds fine on paper, but “Venom” isn’t sure what film it wants to be, and it makes for an unintelligible, queasy roller coaster ride. It wrestles with itself while simultaneously trying to be several movies at once while finding time for Brock’s underdog-y redemption from abject failure and the mutually-beneficial taming of his bloodthirsty companion.

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Tonally shapeshifting, and never elegantly, once the Venom contagion pollutes Brock—he turns out to be an optimal organ match— the movie then becomes something akin to a body horror/body swap comedy, a senseless CGI-action video game, there are some corny scenes resembling a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan rom-com, and then something synergistic and cooperative; resembling more of a save-the-day, suddenly-find-your-moral-compass superhero movie with a loud, noisy, preposterous third act. “Venom” is a huge sloppy mess and the way it tries to earn its “hard PG-13” edgelordiness with gratuitous vulgarities and one forced “f*ck” is rather sad and risible.

Directed with hacky incoherence by Ruben Fleischer (“Gangster Squad,” “30 Minutes Or Less”), with no sense of rhythm, flow or cohesive tenor, the filmmaker hasn’t made a decent film since “Zombieland,” and “Venom” doesn’t break his failing streak (and one wonders if a director’s jail timeout might be best). Superstar DP Matthew Libatique lenses the film, but you could never tell someone with an eye shot it.

The crown jewel of “Venom” is the committedly campy, wacky, Mountain Dew-y Tom Hardy performance riff that is slightly less incomprehensibly mush-mouthed than usual (though again, what passes for his version of a New Yawk accent is always a randomized dealer’s choice). Hardy seems to have some strong notions of how Brock should be played—broadly, wildly, comically, septically—and ideas that feel like he’s never actually talked to or consulted with the director about; Fleischer always feels like he’s playing some game of catch-up or damage control. Hardy’s performance is a mixture of enjoyable, awful and hilarious/unintentionally hilarious. It’s strangely jumpy, then lackadaisical or hysterical, and never once does it seem to resemble a human being, even one coming from an implausible superhero film.

Occasionally, “Venom” fascinates, largely because of the actor, what with its gonzo scenes of eating Lobsters, tater tots (twice), and HANGRY outbursts. The bellicose bickering of its loud Cookie Monster-like beast and the what-the-f*ck-is-going-on panic of Eddie Brock has its moments too. “Venom” is sporadically, riotously funny, but often, you’re laughing at, not with the film. Those with a Ph.D. in Advanced Irony, should find a fairly high degree of entertainment value, but regular civilians, more accustomed to the rhythms of modern-day superhero movies likely won’t cotton to the so-bad-its-good method; the only possible way of relishing the amoebic dysentery of this movie (how Hardy, Williams, and Ahmed read this piss-poor script and decided it would make a deserving movie is an oral history worth reading 10 years from now; they’re all bloody awful in it, but no thespian is saving this thing).

To that end, as you may have heard already, “Venom” feels tremendously dated, seemingly plucked from a timewarp where superhero movies resemble ungainly things like “Ghost Rider,” “Spawn,” “Daredevil” and the likes (throw in a little bit of “The Mask,” “Dude Where’s My Car,” “Weekend At Bernies,” “The Wicker Man,” “Ghost Rider 2” and “Green Lantern” and this is the freaky Frankenstein that’s been created). But if “Venom” has (generously) three/four delightfully absurd scenes or moments, they are but fleeting amusements in a shockingly disarrayed movie (“On my planet, I’m kind of a loser like you” is perhaps the funniest unintendedly funny line of the decade so far).

What’s wild about the movie, at least tangentially, is how it seems to have not a care about the tone of the “Spider-Man: Homecoming” films even though “Venom” is meant to be a cornerstone in Sony’s interconnected Spiderverse. Two post-credit scenes end the movie: one is ludicrously silly, the other essentially a commercial for something else, but regardless, you can kiss this sequel and particular franchise goodbye.

It’s difficult to discuss “Venom” without some mention of the infamous feculence line shown in the trailer—the symbiotic monster warning a naughty thug about leaving his dismembered body flailing about like “a turd in the wind.” It’s a laughable line, but maybe there’s something to these recurring themes; after all, endoparasites are often found in feces, and “Venom” stinks like a horrid flush that just won’t go down the drain. [D]