Black Widow

When she’s not babysitting the Avengers, Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson), is on the run. In this spin-off we learn that she was brought up as a member of a Russian sleeper cell in suburban Ohio, and was brutally flung into the world of covert ops and assassination. Shattering the zen of her hiding place in the Norwegian mountains, Natasha is reconnected with her adopted sister Yelena (Florence Pugh) who forces her back into battle against the Red Room, the sinister Soviet school that trained the pair to be killers.

Flitting between global heists and chasing after mysterious red vials with the usual disregard for property destruction, Black Widow feels more like an instalment in the Mission: Impossible franchise than part of the extended MCU. Like 2018’s Fallout, Lorne Balfe’s soundtrack brings out the big guns, charging the dizzying action set-pieces with energy and excitement. For the full impact of the sound and the sheer scale of the whole endeavour, a cinema trip is worthwhile.

The way director Cate Shortland shoots the fight scenes contrasts the clean, bright aesthetic of Natasha’s introduction in Iron Man 2. Self-consciously avoiding those slow-motion poses, the action sequences here don’t pause in the same way, instead embracing the lightning-fast technique of these skilled assassins. The shaky camera movements do make the choreography harder to appreciate, but these characters finally look as lethal as they’re meant to be.

Though Yelena’s near constant exclamations of “shit”, along with Pugh’s best gravelly Russian accent, are charming, much of the levity comes from the inappropriate attitudes of her adopted parents. Father Alexei, the would-be Soviet superhero Red Guardian (David Harbour), believes himself to be a Communist version of Captain America, while evil scientist mother Melina (Rachel Weisz) has a nice line in deadpan quips. The humour is hit and miss, but each actor brings their own charisma and some very silly line delivery makes it all work.

Prior to this solo run-out, Black Widow’s storyline has been handed down by Joss Whedon and the Russo brothers with varying degrees of sexism, ranging from outright objectification to off-hand dismissal. That is to say, the bar is on the floor when it comes to doing something that actually gives this character some depth and nuance.

Eric Pearson’s script easily passes this low standard but, as the heroine says herself, she does not stop long enough to think about her own story. We do finally learn what happened in Budapest – a mysterious incident mentioned in several previous Marvel films – but while Johansson shines, she does share the spotlight with Pugh in a way that limits what we learn about her as an individual.

Stereotypical notions of womanhood mean the writing often dances around the trauma that these sisters have experienced. A revelation about forced hysterectomies is brushed off as a joke for making men squeamish, and one bonding moment includes a more successful celebration of clothes with pockets. (It is a good jacket; Pugh looks very Han Solo in it. But I digress…)

Disappointingly, the Red Room years aren’t explored beyond an opening credits montage and we don’t learn anything about the other Widows being operated by Ray Winstone’s oligarch-like antagonist Dreykov. This procrastination, which will presumably be addressed more fully in future sequels, makes the world of the film feel like hollow set dressing.

Yet Black Widow imbues the title character with genuine personality beyond her sultry one-liners and association with the Avengers, even if the exploration of her emancipation is superficial. The film also adds some much-needed joy and female companionship to a timeline that is too often dark and doomy. As Pugh’s first blockbuster outing, this is an entertaining and memorable entry into a convoluted saga.

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