Aubrey MaloneDoctor Strange (12A)
Whizzkid New York neuro-surgeon Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) suffers horrific injuries to his hands in a car crash. When traditional medicine fails to heal them as he would like, he journeys to Nepal to try and find a cure, immersing himself in Eastern methods of mind control after an initial burst of scepticism.
He bites off more than he can chew after squaring up against the follically-challenged Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) and her dark nemesis Kaelicius (Mads Mikkelson). Kaelicius rips his body and soul asunder in a spate of phantasmagoric set-pieces. After a while we begin to wonder if the Ancient One (who’s hundreds of years old) is drawing some strength from him to aid her longevity.
This is a fascinating film even if the comic book script strains credibility. I don’t think I’ve seen better special effects since Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. It’s something Ridley Scott would have been proud of – or even Steven Spielberg. Scott Derrickson (who?) directs.
Harry Potter meets Star Trek in the extravagant action sequences. They bend both time and space as our cape-clad ex-surgeon becomes so adept in the universe – or ‘multiverse’ to use the film’s sci-fi terminology – of psychic energy that he threatens to supplant even the Ancient One, his teacher.
Meanwhile a mystified medical friend called Christine (Rachel McAdams) pines for his return to the hospital where she used to work with him before the car crash. He makes a trip back to her after he’s stabbed by one of Kaelicius’ henchmen, asking her to perform surgery on him as his out-of-body self views the proceedings from above the operating table.
Yes, at times it does appear somewhat ridiculous but that’s its intention. Scenes like this give it a cartoonish flavour that supplements the quasi-profound ruminations on immortality. Cumberbatch shares these with Swinton in his arrogant Luciferesque guise when he’s not jumping through circles of fire to fight the enemy.
The mixture of mysticism and humour doesn’t always work. I think it would have been better to play things straight. That way the action scenes would have gripped us more. The wry oneliners – Beyonce even gets a mention – give us an escapist ‘out’ and make us feel that (like Benedict over the operating table) we’re watching matters unfold from outside ourselves with our 3D spectacles. The suspension of disbelief, as a result, doesn’t get as much traction.
But maybe modern audiences wouldn’t have ‘bought’ the film without the element of sardonicism. Producers always have to keep an eye on the main chance these days. (This is also telegraphed by a post-credit slot indicating a sequel).
If you have a health problem and would like to cure it by fighting off ferocious demons, communing with ancient gurus, turning skyscrapers sideways, carving up motorways and spouting karmic mumbo-jumbo to exotic tutors, make sure you see this movie.
On the other hand, maybe you’d prefer to stick with the VHI.
Very Good ****