Guardians of the Galaxy vol.2 IS big but it’s not clever and that’s ok!

Yes, it’s another Marvel superhero movie and, and yes, it’s a sequel, but I have to admit to being quite excited to see the latest Guardians of the Galaxy instalment as it hit the big screens this month.

There’s something about it’s oddball mix of superhero caricatures that I find really endearing. With  walking deadpan Drax, fierce badass Gamora, funky as f@!k Quill and robo-raccoon (*sorry I mean ‘trash panda’) Rocket, not to mention the simply adorable Groot, there are laughs to be had from the get go and even long into the extensive extras ‘hidden’ in the credits.

Ridiculous stunts, insane space battles and superlative special effects are of course the very least that we expect from Marvel’s uber budget blockbusters, but GOTG2 really takes this bare minimum and runs with it. Lavish ships such as Ego’s ‘egg’ and simply bonkers creations like the ship with the rolling-ball-space-lasers show that despite obvious market saturation, Marvel still have plenty of imaginative tricks up their sleeves.

Despite the anarchy that is GOTG2, and peppered in amongst the various gags, explosions, and disco classics, are some surprisingly tender moments. The storyline for vol.2 is essentially a ‘daddy issues’ trope on steroids, but contained within, are touching reminders of the importance of family and friendship. As Cat Stevens’ ‘Father and Son’ came blasting through the Dolbys and  as the predictable will-they-won’t-they (of course they will) between Gamora and Quill finally met its inevitable resolution I have to confess to wiping (just a tiny) little tear from my eye.

Its essentially the character led interactions and complex relationships which make Guardians work; both the tears and laughs come from the interplay between our heros, and, set against the space-western backdrop, I found myself pining (and not for the first time, let’s be honest) for one more, just ONE more season of my beloved Firefly.

8255210-256400255_2-s4-v1GOTG is not the height of sophisticated film making or cinematography, nor is it meant to be, what it is, is 136 minutes of pure, unadulterated escapism, and in a world which is feeling too heavy and too dark to bare right now, that ain’t nothing.

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