REVIEW: McAvoy and Fassbender Are First-Rate in X-Men: First Class

In laying out the X-Men backstory, Vaughn has done lots of things right. In the first half, in particular, he's conscious of keeping the story grounded on a modest, human scale that isn't overshadowed by booming special effects. Maybe that's the approach you'd expect Vaughn to take. Together, Vaughn's movies -- which also include the gritty Brit-crime caper Layer Cake and the spirited but not-quite-cohesive Kick-Ass, as well as the flawed but still hypnotic Neil Gaiman adaptation Stardust -- are a motley group that nevertheless come with a sensibility attached. Vaughn is interested in human interaction, in vulnerability, in glancing humor rather than heavy-duty laughs. His instincts are good, though he doesn't always follow them fully -- or perhaps, depending on who's holding the purse-strings, he isn't always allowed to.

And so while X-Men: First Class at first takes its source material with just the right amount of self-deprecating seriousness, it founders in the second half, when it becomes overburdened with squirrelly plot mechanics and an excess of self-evident dialogue. (Sample mutant talk: "Society should try to become more like us.") X-Men: First Class wants to give itself over to stylized stylishness early on: There are some superb Bond-style sparkling phallic submarines, and we get to see January Jones, as mind-reading ice-maiden Emma Frost, in a series of Emma Peel-style zippered jumpsuits. (X-Men: First Class does commingle 1962 Mad Men-era fashion a bit too liberally with 1968 Austin Powers mod garb, but costume designer Sammy Sheldon may have been going for a vibe rather than spot-on historical accuracy.)

I hooted and laughed when Fassbender's Erik extracted a gold filling from a baddie simply by holding his quivering hand aloft, as if he were playing a theremin. There's also a marvelous sequence in which the youngsters amuse themselves while holed up at a CIA research facility: They strut their superpowers to the rockin' strains of "Hippy Hippy Shake." But X-Men: First Class becomes bogged down in its late -- and seemingly everlasting -- action sequences, which it frames in terms of real-life Cold War horrors. The resulting geopolitical action fable is too clever by half, and it's wearying to watch, not least because it drains our attention from the movie's two star attractions.

Because if nothing else, X-Men: First Class is anchored by two superb actors, McAvoy and Fassbender, who embrace this sometimes ludicrous material without acting as if they're slumming (or just collecting a paycheck). Fassbender, born in Germany and raised in Ireland, is something of a magnificent mutant himself -- his Erik Lehnsherr is urbane, unflinching, unapologetically sexy in a menacing way. (He also manages to look surprisingly not-ridiculous in that absurd Magneto helmet.) And McAvoy brings thespian gravity even to that old-timey chestnut of a line, "I can't feel my legs." When he suffers, his eyes stare into space, but they're hardly blank. He and Fassbender circle each other warily, like elegant but very different animals, one feral, one cautious and intuitive. Instead of stooping down to the material, they do the work of elevating it, and they're a pleasure to watch even as X-Men: First Class derails around them. Sometime partners who end up rivals, they're the movie's most spectacular special effect.

Read Movieline's interview with X-Men: First Class co-star Rose Byrne here.

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