Super-strength, flight, weaponised tailoring, big ol' magical hammers: these are superpowers with obvious appeal.
Shrinking isn't as immediately attractive. Despite a fairly long cinematic history of downsized films, from The Incredible Shrinking Man to Honey I Shrunk The Kids, it doesn't seem like something that would obviously help in the event of alien invasion or apocalyptic plot. Ant-Man's greatest achievement is convincing us that this is a superhero worth getting excited about, and an entertaining one as a bonus.
This began as a passion project for director Edgar Wright, not a part of the studio's over-arching masterplan. When Wright left due to creative differences, Marvel found itself with a public relations challenge for fans of the popular director, and a leaderless film just weeks from shooting. The good news is that, while Peyton Reed's finished product doesn't quite have the zip and verve of Wright's creations, it is fun and frothy and convinces as a worthy part of the Marvel canon.
Much of that success is down to Paul Rudd, who's endlessly charming as Scott Lang. He's a former convict, an Occupy-type, who attracts the attention of retired scientist Hank Pym (Michael Douglas). Pym is looking for a new occupant for his revolutionary Ant-Man suit in order to prevent his old company from selling his shrinking technology to arms dealers. The bad guy that Pym is out to stop is Corey Stoll's ambitious Darren Cross, his former protégé and new CEO, and Pym's woman on the inside is his daughter Hope (Evangeline Lily).
So it's a family drama writ large (but also tiny), and echoed in the supporting cast. There's also Lang's ex-wife (Judy Greer), her new cop boyfriend (Bobby Cannavale) and Lang's adorable daughter; and another pseudo-family of Lang's ex-con buddies led by Michael Peña, the film's secret comedy weapon. Oh, and several colonies of ants.
Rudd just about holds it all together, though he gets less screentime than one might wish and the full-face Ant-Man mask makes it feel like even less. Still, the easygoing, deadpan charisma he's honed over two decades of cinema makes Lang a compelling hero even when he's engaged in a ridiculous and convoluted heist - and it isn't a terribly well-explained scheme.
All this business means some characters are neglected: Greer is wasted in a tiny role, as a mother who spouts platitudes, for the second blockbuster this summer, and Lily's Hope too is under-developed. Lily at least manages to inject some spark into a character who looks, and initially acts, like a Goth twin to Jurassic World's Claire, but she never takes off. Meanwhile, Cross' villainy is barely explained beyond an old grudge against his former mentor and an illogical notion that his brain chemistry has been affected by a shrinking process he is still working to master. Frequent plot-holes are papered over with authoritative Douglas hand-waves: although he admittedly has a way with a hand-wave, it would have been nice to see him take a more sprightly role in proceedings.
Still, this film offers a pleasant contrast to the studio's recent bombast; no giant machines hover over any major metropolises in the final act this time, which is a relief. Ant-Man isn't up there with the studio's best (Avengers, Iron Man 3, Captain America: The Winter Soldier) but it's head, shoulders and a tower of fire ants above Iron Man 2 or
The Incredible Hulk. Stay in your seats for a mid- and post-credits sting that promise even better for this miniature superhero, and the Marvel universe, in the future.
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Follow Helen O'Hara on Twitter: @HelenLOHara
