I am so looking forward to the beginning of May when The Avengers comes out in theaters. I’m a closet superhero junkie, and I love Robert Downey, Jr. as Tony Stark/Iron Man. And who doesn’t like The Avengers?
Now, I’m not an archer, nor am I an archery enthusiast. I do, however, like my books and movies to have a degree of believability. And yes, I’m applauding an article that pokes holes in Hawkeye’s archery skills but am content to go along with a story in which one of the principle characters is a Nordic God from another dimension and another principle character was in hibernation somewhere in the Arctic Ocean for about 60 years. The story and it’s plot elements are the responsibility of the creator; executing these well is up to the director and actors.
Or animators, as is the case of Transformers.
Cute Husband and The Boy have been watching the classic Transformers cartoons from 1984. I think it’s awesome, personally; there’s something about the old-school animation that’s, well, cool. And I know Cute Husband is enjoying the fact that he’s able to share a bit of his own childhood with The Boy.
I watched a few episodes with them before I decided I had trouble suspending my disbelief. Robots from millions of years in the past crashing to Earth from a distant planet? No problem. The happy coincidence that they can transform into objects commonplace on Earth? Also no problem. And humans readily accept said robots (who also speak English)? Fine.
But the fact that Megatron, with all his firepower, and the other Decepticons are unable to defeat the Autobots (whose arsenal is far weaker than that of the Decepticons)? That doesn’t compute.
I mean, I can only suspend disbelief for so long before I have to step away from the nonsense.
Fortunately, I think I’ll be able to overlook Hawkeye’s poor form and enjoy The Avengers. But if he gets his own movie…