Exciting times for fans of comic books, movies, and comic book movies, this week, as Christopher Nolan announced his retirement from Warner Bros.’ superhero push, opening the door for a return to the Akiva Goldsman Golden Age.
This sort of sarcasm never really works written down, does it?
More sincerely, the announcement of Joss Whedon’s incipient return to The Avengers, news good enough to balance say 80% of the bleakness of a Nolan-free DC future, was greeted a massive disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in joy and were suddenly silenced as they rushed to their blogs to demand appearances by Wasp, and the Kree-Skrull War, and so on.
But that’s not why I’m here.
Much was made before The Avengers came out of Joss Whedon’s “Lack of track record”, his one film, his repeatedly cancelled shows, more cautious pundits than I pondered whether he could handle what was shaping to be, quite simply, The Biggest Tent-pole Of All Time.
He wrote Toy Story, and created Captain Malcolm Reynolds, kids. If Joss Whedon wants to make Shakespeare in his back garden we should le- oh. Never mind.
Of course after The Avengers came out, after the Hulk had been redeemed. After it had been proved that, if you weren’t Hawkeye, it was more than possible to balance all those characters. After we’d stayed till the end of the credits and squealed like the comic collecting equivalent of a little girl receiving a pony and more importantly after THAT scene, with hopes realised and questions answered, we were left to ponder on the fact that Joss Whedon did have a track record.