Imagine the story about a vulnerable young woman who discovers her entire life has been built on a lie, who learns a dark emotionally cataclysmic secret about her past and feels irrevocably betrayed by a manipulative man she once saw as her savior and compassionate father figure. Apply a viscerally triggering event that unearths a great, once-buried trauma—and a remarkable power— and exacerbate it further with mysterious outsiders looking to exploit this anguish for their nefarious purposes and you have all the trappings of a very explosive and intriguing melodrama. You also have all the elements of a very different “X-Men” movie. One you’ve never seen before, which is exciting in theory. Alas, while “Dark Phoenix” the latest and final “X-Men” movie of the 20th Century Fox era, features some lofty and ambitious ideas about gaslighting, bad men, identity, and destiny that sound captivating, the execution is painfully clumsy and ham-fisted.
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Helmed by writer/director Simon Kinberg, who has produced all the modern-day ‘X-Men’ films, before, but never directed a movie previously (it shows), “Dark Phoenix” has good intentions about wanting to tell an adult, character-driven story with emotional texture and it certainly views “Logan“—the last Wolverine/X-Men movie—as its exemplary beacon of inspiration. Unfortunately, Kinberg, thought-provoking story concepts notwithstanding, is out of his depth, and his map to that north star is a fundamentally flawed and patchy mess, wrapped in superficial layers of dark grittiness.
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Predicated on the audience empathy for the powerful mutant character Jean Grey (Sophie Turner), the foundations of this premise are defective, and Kinberg never puts in the homework to make us care about this character. Last seen losing control of her powers in the dismal “X-Men: Apocalypse“—the ending an obvious tease for this movie—no ‘X-Men’ film in this prequel series has bothered to create a real emotional connection to Jean Grey before and this (somewhat) thoughtfully conceived, but poorly constructed, film isn’t about to change your sympathies (though it certainly tries in its opening origin prelude). Kinberg wants to fast forward to the famous ‘Dark Phoenix’ story from the comics— Jean Grey’s powers grow god-like and she goes cuckoo, already covered once in 2006’s “X-Men: The Last Stand” which he wrote(!)— and he’s got a clever and timely idea about supercilious, powerful men who deceive women to tell it. But arriving at that critical juncture, Grey losing control and going supernova, is never convincing, earned or as poignant as the movie believes it is.
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The clunky plot machinations kick into gear immediately. The world has changed, and Professor Charles Xavier’s (James McAvoy) mutants are no longer feared. A self-satisfied Charles, something of a celebrity, has the U.S. President on speed dial. So when a NASA mission goes awry, the X-Men, with a new jet that can fly in outer space—just forget about basic physics in this entire sequence—are called to save the day. Things go further cockeyed, and a mysterious cosmic entity nearly kills Jean Grey and everyone in the process. Miraculously, no one is hurt, but Mystique/Raven (Jennifer Lawrence, doing her best, “I don’t want to be here, please kill my character off in the first act” bit)—already embittered with Xavier’s growing hubris— is fuming mad at his poor choices and the misplaced faith in Grey’s powers that put the entire X-Men and astronauts at risk.
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And so a fissure begins to grow; Raven’s disillusionment with the X-industrial complex, Xavier’s messiah complex alienating her further and that triggering spark that is about to unleash the ‘Dark Phoenix’ tale the movie is itching to scratch.
Worse, as Grey becomes more volatile, the energy force above earth consumed into her body is revealed to be a power that is coveted by a race of all-powerful, shapeshifting, Skrull-like aliens lead by Jessica Chastain (a one-dimensional character given absolutely nothing to do). With Grey emotionally vulnerable after unintentionally injuring the X-Men, Chastain goes to work on manipulating her, revealing to her past dark secrets and turning her against her former comrades and mentor.
Chaos ensues, Magneto (Michael Fassbender) is dragged into the conflict out of revenge (you know, the character that dies in the trailers)—even though, hilariously, five seconds earlier he’s monologued about changing for the better and walking away from vengeance— and the entire affair turns into a broken, warring family story about either saving or putting down the monster that Grey has become. And meanwhile, the alien puppeteers are still pulling her strings, feeding her ideas about Xavier’s transgressions and the moral boundaries he’s overstepped.
This narrative texture —Xavier as the failed redeemer and the well-intentioned, but misguided lies he told Jean in the name of “protecting” her and the greater good—and the way Chastain’s anonymous alien figure distorts and manipulates this rediscovered emotional distress for her gain, is the meat of the movie and what might have made it command some tragic Shakespearean dimension in greater hands. The problem is, nothing of value is done with it, and there’s zero depth. Brushing lightly alongside the idea of #MeToo-like abusers who prey on the helpless, but really just flirting with the notion and nothing more, “Dark Phoenix” doesn’t have the courage of its convictions to truly position Xavier as a bad guy. It swerves away at the last minute— really undoing everything its set up, and suddenly (mostly) absolving him of his crucial mistakes—setting the stage for the good guys to simply reunify and beat the shit out of aliens on a train in an elaborate set piece that’s actually engaging and dynamic, despite how hollow the narrative’s become.
But by then, none of it matters. While Hans Zimmer provides a terrific score that adds to the movie’s sense of urgency and propulsiveness in the third act and the action is far better than it deserves to be—many inane decisions from the characters aside—”Dark Phoenix” decides, in a critical moment, that it won’t consider any “The Dark Knight“-like costs of dubious ethical choices and instead opting for the less complicated, action-packed finale.
Not that it would have saved the movie. Its atrocious, expository dialogue, cumbersome plot, whiplashing character motivations, unintentionally funny moments, and often corny costumes, ensures, “Dark Phoenix” will be remembered in the annals of mediocre movies (and for somehow utterly wasting Jessica Chastain, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, and James McAvoy in the same film). But there is a kernel of what it could have been, and so, in case you’re wondering it’s not quite the nadir of the series, but it is a listless whimper in the end. Toying with ideas of identity and destiny that it telegraphs in spoon-feeding voiceover, “Dark Phoenix” wants to be about who we are and those who aren’t afforded that choice— positing that Jean Grey might be destined for greatness or fated to be a monster, but personal agency of who she truly is, has never been in her control. It’s admirable material on paper, but it’s also just layers of stuff that’s meaningless, empty and just not compellingly told or crafted. And so imagine a story about an overly-confident movie that believes its psychologically complex, but ultimately can’t see itself for the shallow superhero movie it truly is. That’s “Dark Phoenix” and an unremarkable end to the “X-Men” franchise. [C-]
