vs.
2010 saw the release of two apparently-similar animated films, both dealing with the superhero genre from the perspective of the supervillain. As it turns out only one really does that (Despicable Me features a supervillain, but not in a world of superheroes), but still, it seems a reasonable point of comparison.
I watched them back-to-back back in March, which wasn’t necessarily a revealing exercise but certainly made for a direct comparison. I’ve made some points about that within the reviews themselves, so I shan’t say more here. As ever, click through to read my thoughts:
After that, it should be pretty clear who I think the winner is.
A venture into the increasingly-popular CG family film market from Universal, Despicable Me is about a supervillain who comes to question his evil ways. It was released the same year as the similarly-themed 
The film’s country is officially listed as USA because it’s made with American money, but it feels more like a French production (albeit dubbed with US voices). Look at those directors’ names (though only Coffin is French — Renaud is actually American); it was made entirely in a French studio (Mac Guff in Paris); and it has a kind of feel that doesn’t seem like it came from a US studio. So while technically, yes, it’s American, I don’t think the French side should be wholly ignored. I’m not saying it makes it bad, but perhaps it lessens the apparent superhero feel — that’s a very American genre, after all.
From the co-director of 
There’s a starry voice cast behind the characters, and fortunately they never overwhelm their roles. Which is good, because I’m not really a fan of Will Ferrell and he’s the lead. There’s also the likes of Brad Pitt, Tina Fey, Jonah Hill and Ben Stiller rounding out proceedings — not that it matters because, as I say, the voices fit their roles seamlessly.
Despite that aim, these aren’t glaring holes that desperately need a fix. Rather they’re join-the-dots enterprises; the thing most people won’t have noticed at all, that fans may have wondered about, that it’s more fun to connect up than strictly necessary. It makes this piece resolutely fan-only — while it’s quite good, it’s more admin than a story in its own right, showing how various films connect together in the lead-up to 
It’s a standalone piece, and though it’s brief (under three minutes before the credits role), it still manages to add quite a lot to the character of Agent Coulson, who in the main films to this point has been a minor (albeit increasingly major) supporting role. I suppose it’s fitting that Clark Gregg has been the star of these connecting shorts, as he’s one of the main links across the films (he appears in 
They renamed Gay Falcon’s hero, Gay Falcon, to Gay Lawrence (well, Gay Laurence at first, but I don’t think that really matters), moved his previous surname to be a reasonless Saint-like nickname, and in the lead role cast “Russian-born English film and television actor, singer-songwriter, music composer, and author” (and, later, voice of Shere Khan in 
Quite outside of the Falcon film series, this third entry is notable for being the first screen adaptation of a Raymond Chandler novel. Ditching Chandler’s then-unknown Philip Marlowe in favour of the Falcon in the lead role, this is a version of the character’s second mystery, Farewell, My Lovely — which would be 
As usual, it doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi that makes the Saint films particularly entertaining (yeah, you know I mean wit); and I can well believe it has “
The second Falcon film sees George Sanders’ gentlemen detective investigate the disappearance of a scientist.
Anyway, aside from him there’s a ‘suicide’ bid and the crowd below’s reaction to it. Again it’s mostly comedy, but unlike some of the series’ DOA running gags it’s actually funny.
Worried about the cost of renewing the licence to popular hero the Saint, RKO instead acquired Michael Arlen’s the Falcon and essentially modelled him as a replacement, much to the chagrin of Saint creator Leslie Charteris. And who can blame him? They even cast the star of the Saint, George Sanders. Cheeky.
The story (the only one in the series adapted from a work by Arlen) is a solid mystery about jewellery thieves, which doesn’t seem to have quite the scale of the Saint films. Those were often contained to one city, but they felt somehow grander, like the schemes being foiled were of broad significance; here, it’s basically work for the police. To put it another way, if there was always the sensation that the Saint was an anterior James Bond, you could say the Falcon is more like Sherlock Holmes.
The Gay Falcon makes for solid enough entertainment, mixing thrills with humour to decent effect. But despite attempts to emulate it, not least with the same leading man and woman, it’s no the Saint — they’ve not injected Gay Laurence with quite the same way with words and the supporting cast lacks a Teal or ‘Pearly’ Gates type to really make it click. Whether future entries stray further from Arlen’s original and more into Saint territory, or not, remains to be seen.
Prequels are far from a new concept (there are examples in ancient Greek literature; the OED dates the first use in print to 1958, though I swear I’ve heard mention of it being used even earlier), but in the past ten years or so they really seem to have come to prevalence in the movies. Perhaps we can trace this phenomenon back to 
The screenwriters in question, Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (also producers), are due a lot of thanks for the quality of the final product. The story — about the son of a lab-tested chimpanzee, raised at home by a US scientist, who ultimately turns on humanity — was inspired by news stories of pet chimps attacking their owners, plus research into genetic modification. By taking these themes and issues and running with them, Jaffa and Silver have crafted a blockbuster that is both plausible and intelligent — a rare thing these days.
As with many prequels, the story itself may seem needless: we know where it ends up, and as various balls are put in play we can see their ultimate destination. But the important thing is that you can’t always see their trajectory, and as someone famous once said, sometimes the pleasure’s in the journey not the destination. Here we become invested in the characters, so we care about what will happen to them in the broader sweep of the Apes story, not to mention the intricacies of how things go from the opening status quo to the conclusion. Plus, with a prequel set so far before the original as this one is, one can always ponder the question of just how far they’ll go in this story (it doesn’t connect up to the start of Planet of the Apes, for instance).
The rest of the cast are adequate but hardly register. James Franco is a solid lead but rarely called on to do much — Caesar is the protagonist, Franco’s human scientist just facilitates that. Frieda Pinto’s role is underwritten. Considering the film barely hits 100 minutes in an era when many blockbusters bloat to 140+, there’s room for her character to get a subplot objecting to the lab treatment of the apes. She’s awfully accepting of Franco’s line of work. As I noted though, perhaps they were trying to avoid being heavy-handed. Overall, John Lithgow is served best, his character slipping in and out of Alzheimer’s as Franco tries to develop a cure. It’s another in a line of recent fine supporting performances from him.
but there’s unquestionably still more that could come. There’s the newly intelligent apes, not yet ruling the planet; but also a mid-credit sequence that continues a significant subplot that’s clearly left hanging, closing the movie with a slight Part One-y tang. Still, I believe that if there wasn’t a sequel coming it would function satisfyingly as a standalone film.
#62 
#67 
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