Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom review: Finale to DC universe struggles to stay afloat

It’s increasingly evident that the superhero genre is undergoing a substantial decline, reaching a point where it has ceased to classify as cinema. The reliance on random scientific mumbo jumbo and an overwhelming dependence on CGI has become a conspicuous attempt to compensate for the glaring absence of a coherent and engaging plot.

The sequel to Momoa’s Aquaman feels like a video game that employs the theme of climate change, attempting to give it a veneer of maturity, all the while trying to evade the question of whether it can even be deemed to be a cinematic experience. The film’s creative exhaustion becomes apparent in its dearth of innovation and frustratingly predictable nature. Even Patrick Wilson, who plays Momoa’s brother Orm (you remember him from the previous film), while managing to keep your attention, falls short of providing sufficient sustenance through the grating and excessively loud two-hour-long montage.

An unworthy sequel

Aquaman finds himself pitted against his long-standing arch-nemesis, Black Manta. Armed with the Black Trident, Manta seeks revenge for something that has happened eons ago, a vendetta as old as the power he wishes to wield against Arthur. In the clash of the titans, Arthur, in a surprising move, forges an alliance with his half-brother Orm, injecting an additional layer of complexity and intrigue into the storyline that hopes to explore the theme of brotherhood. This collaboration promises to add a spicy dynamic to the narrative, but in the twists and turns in the tumultuous world of underwater kingdoms and superhero rivalries, there’s no space for emotions apparently, which is why this noble thought remains only that — a thought.

From the outset, the film struggles to stay afloat, weighed down by a script that seems to have been penned by someone with a phobia of storytelling. The underwater sequences, supposedly the film’s pièce de résistance, are a muddled mess of murky acidic visuals and uninspired CGI. Rather than immersing the audience in a captivating aquatic world, the film feels more like a misguided attempt to recreate a low-budget aquarium tour, making you question the alleged $205 million dollar budget. 

The film’s special effects fall far short of their intended mark, failing to conjure a visually stunning underwater world. Atlantis feels more like a feeble attempt to recreate a second-rate version of the awe-inspiring underwater realm we encountered in the initial instalment released in 2018. The stark contrast between the two renditions is a jarring reminder of the missed opportunity to build upon the unique and visually engaging elements that made the first iteration one of the standout superhero films in recent memory.

A saving grace

Director James Wan, who has primarily worked in the horror genre, orchestrates a visual spectacle, yet its grandeur frequently comes across as a superficial endeavour to divert attention from the uninspiring plot. The film transforms what could have been epic battle scenes into a digital eyesore. It’s as if Wan mistakenly believed that bombarding the audience with visual spectacle could compensate for a plot that lacks any semblance of originality. The story is devoid of depth, be it in the evolution of characters or in the unfolding of events. However, it must be acknowledged that anticipating nuanced storytelling from a superhero film is akin to asking for a symphony from a lone drumbeat.

The characters, despite their supposed superhuman abilities, feel as two-dimensional as the comic book pages from which they originated. It’s baffling how a film with such scope for character development manages to reduce its protagonists to mere caricatures spouting predictable lines. As for the dialogue, it’s a cringe-worthy concoction of cheesy one-liners and forced attempts at humour. The script seems to underestimate the audience’s intelligence, relying on tired jokes and recycled banter that might have been amusing a decade ago but now elicit more eye rolls than laughs.

Jason Momoa’s allure, once so magnetic, seems to have dissipated, leaving behind only brute strength and those imposing biceps. While visually striking, they fail to rescue the film from its inherent shortcomings. Surprisingly, it is Patrick Wilson who lends the film a dash of charm, delivering a performance that is earnest, entertaining, and, above all, believable.

An unconvincing fare

Regrettably, believability is a rare commodity in Aquaman’s sequel. It unfolds with an unsettling obviousness, leaning on convenient plot devices and childish simplicity. There’s a remarkable absence of effort invested in crafting a world — be it Atlantis or beyond — that invites emotional and intellectual investment from the audience.

In essence, the film is so superficial that its lack of authenticity becomes outrageously apparent. How does a cinematic experience work, if you can’t get the viewer to believe in the world you’ve created, let alone in the story? Consider Paul King’s recent venture into Wonka’s world, a delectable example of meticulous world-building and the crucial role believability plays in a fantastical and mythical narrative such as these. Unlike Wonka, Aquaman doesn’t transport you; rather, it keeps you acutely aware of the real world, clumsily interspersing discussions about climate change and global warming in what appears to be a clear attempt to score woke points.

In the end, Aquaman struggles to detach audiences from reality, and its forced socio-political commentary only serves to underscore the film’s inability to weave a truly immersive and convincing fantasy fare. Gone are the days when simplicity wasn’t so difficult to achieve, but those were the days that films like these actually worked. In today’s day and time, can they even muster an ounce of that enchantment or are they too doomed to begin with? Only time will tell.