In times like these, it’s important that we all come together. Donald Trump and Kim Jong Un’s ongoing, nuclear-fuelled feud would most definitely be resolved if they came together in a private room, and all of the world’s wars would instantly end if its militaries had an agreed-upon territory in which they could come.
That is the message of Zack Snyder’s new DC film Justice League, which features a coming together so monumental it’s practically blinding. The world faces being invaded by Elijah Wood-sized moths and their demonic gimp lord Step-In-Time (Dick Van Dyke), who has the power to make three magic boxes explode at once. To stop him, Batman and Wonder Woman, who have already come together, must entice Usain Bolt, a Christmas tree and a fish man to also come with them.
Yet, ironically, not much of Justice League comes together. Everything just sort of comes on its own, with no real synergy or flow. We awkwardly jump from one location to another, never establishing a rhythm or connection between the sexy, costumed people. The subsequent result, much like Snyder’s romantic comedy Batman v Superman, is an embarrassing, clunky and smelly affair that left me never wanting to come again.
It’s evident that no one came together in the DC boardrooms when this film hit snags early on in production. Joss Whedon had to step in to direct a few scenes, and his Marvel-loving scent can be traced like another woman’s perfume on your husband’s work shirt. The uneven marrying of humour and DC’s darker aesthetic renders Ben Affleck’s Fatman unrecognisable, drawing attention to his limited ability to help his friends finish off Dick’s Van Dyke.
I was equally baffled by the treatment of Superman who, despite showing signs of regeneration at the end of BvS, is brought back by other means. The Justice League attempt to make him come with them, but make a right mess of it. Batman ends up absolutely covered in shame and regret, which prompted the pensioner next to me to be violently sick.
Wonder Woman (Glenn Close) is the only real positive, dazzling with an introduction sequence that, much to my girlfriend’s annoyance, made me aggressively nod my head in approval. I tried to explain to her that I suffer from bobbleheaditus, but she said that’s the most she’s ever seen me move.
But Wonder Woman’s involvement isn’t enough to cover the gaping plot holes and monosyllabic, tractor-person dialogue. Justice League writes itself into so many dead-ends that it’s hard to imagine the characters ever coming together again.