Visually distinctive, classily cast and mostly coherent, this latest picture from the Marvel stable is that rarest of beasts, a comic-book movie that fully justifies its reliance on CGI effects. This superior hero-origin story nods to the spatial origami of Christopher Nolan’s Inception and has something of the baroque enchantment of the Harry Potter series. It’s also, at times, the most brain-meltingly effective piece of psychedelic cinema since Peter Fonda got himself comprehensively wigged out in The Trip.
But crucially, Doctor Strange is very much its own entity: a handsome, endlessly fascinating conundrum of Escher-like complexity. Director Scott Derrickson, who also co-wrote the film, effortlessly negotiates the leap from quality horror pictures (The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Sinister) to this daringly spiritual popcorn movie. There’s a sharp wit to the screenplay, which credits the audience with enough smarts to catch the punchline to a joke that was set up a full hour before. But Derrickson’s greatest achievement is incorporating so much cosmic guff into the story – astral planes, third eyes and mandalas abound – without ever seeming like a stoner’s motivational bedroom poster.
Much of the success of the film is down to the casting. As Dr Stephen Strange, the brilliant neurosurgeon whose career is wrecked by a devastating car accident, Benedict Cumberbatch is as steely and sharp as the surgical implements he uses to probe the damaged brains of his patients. When we meet him, he has something of the privileged swagger of Tony Stark (Iron Man) but none of his warmth. But Cumberbatch makes the least immediately likable of the Marvel heroes into the most unpredictable and intriguing. Strange’s desperation over his ruined hands takes him to Nepal and to the secretive enclave headed by a guru known only as the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton).
Swinton is typically excellent as Strange’s mentor in the arts of magic. An unworldly Zen teacher with a touch of very earthly cruelty, there’s authority to her screen presence that gives weight to Strange’s spiritual journey. Strong support from Chiwetel Ejiofor as Mordo and Benedict Wong as Wong brings heart and wry humour to the story. Meanwhile, Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen is somewhat underused as Kaecilius, a renegade former disciple. With his purple eyeshadow and back-up team of zealots, he looks like the frontman to a glam-rock covers band.Unexpectedly, one of the strongest characters turns out to be an item of clothing. Doctor Strange’s trademark cloak has deft comic timing and a scene-stealing knack for a sight gag.
The solidity of the performances is a necessary anchor as we plunge into the mind-bending layers of trippy visuals (not for nothing does Stan Lee make a cameo as a bus passenger chuckling over a copy of Aldous Huxley’s Doors of Perception). This is one instance where audiences watching in 2D rather than 3D will be missing out significantly. Not only does the fantasy element pop out of the screen, the teeming chaos of Nepal looks astonishing.
Two end-credit stings give a hint of things to come on our next appointment with the Doctor, suggesting that Marvel fully appreciates the invigorating transfusion of new blood that this film provides.
