I have not seen a Marvel movie since 2014's Guardians of the Galaxy, but I'm relieved to say that aside from a few shots of (Googling…) Avengers Tower, Doctor Strange is a nicely standalone entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe — which, like our own universe, appears to be effectively infinite.
Plot-wise, this is 2008's Iron Man again: Stephen Strange is an asshole and brilliant surgeon. He suffers catastrophic nerve damage in his hands thanks to a car accident that was 100% his fault, mopes around for a while, and then goes to Nepal to learn some Orientalism-meets-Jack-Kirby cosmic nonsense from Tilda Swinton.
Strange destroying his own hands in a car accident is the place where an EC Comics morality tale might leave off, the audience sated on seeing a bone-deep dickhead get his in spectacular fashion. But Doctor Strange continues from there, and forgets to give us any reason to give a shit about Strange himself. His comically massive ego and unchecked arrogance are not fodder for a big mid-movie change of heart or anything; they sort of just stop being part of his character, replaced by a vague determination and some heroic quips.
All the occult frippery in Doctor Strange comics should make for an enjoyably absurd time at the movies, but then we're talking about the studio that put out a cod Shakespearean version of Thor that also managed to be painfully dull. Doctor Strange is probably in the upper tier of Marvel movies, which puts it in the lower tier of actual movies. The only thing it has going for it are some kaleidoscopic special effects, which look pretty good.
They also look a lot like Inception's disappointingly dry "dream worlds," which means buildings, buildings everywhere. There's a bit of Escher perspective trickery and a dollop of straight-from-the-comics cosmic imagery, but Doctor Strange ends up where all comic book movies must: with a city under threat from giant blobs of energy.
The film is weirdly restrained: the Lovecraftian threat from beyond the stars looks like your standard block-headed Marvel baddie; the score is the same midtempo fanfare that underpins all these movies (with the addition of a harpsichord to spice things up); and the handful of clever gags in the fight scenes is outweighed by all the drab punching. Only the sight of a ruined city block reassembling itself in reverse feels genuinely fresh.
The film's scriptwriters—Derrickson and his Sinister cowriter C. Robert Cargill—have a Whedon-lite ear for banter, which is delivered to varying degrees of success by their overqualified cast. Tilda Swinton and Mads Mikkelsen get some mileage out of their one-liners, while Benedict Cumberbatch rolls out his Abrasive Genius routine again, this time struggling with an American accent that sounds modeled after Keanu Reeves.
OK. Doctor Strange looks nice enough, it's comparatively short (just under two hours), and it doesn't require you to have watched any of the previous 13 movies put out by the Marvel-Disney megacorp. It will make a ton of money no matter what anyone says. If you're looking to dip your toes into the raging current of Marvel Cinematic Content you could do a lot worse. If you're a fan of this stuff already, you'll be happy to know this is one of the more distinctive versions of the formula. If you haven't seen Moonlight, do that first.
Doctor Strange
2.5/5 stars
Directed by Scott Derrickson
Starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Tilda Swinton, Mads Mikkelsen, and Rachel McAdams
This article appears in Nov 3-10, 2016.