Hawkeye, Disney+, review: Marvel's TV spinoffs are becoming forgettable filler
A year is a long time in superhero franchises. It’s just over 12 months since Marvel’s first Disney+ TV series, WandaVision, was heralded as a glimmer of light at the end of a punishing season of lockdowns and Zoom quizzes. Fast forward to winter 2021, however, and a thunderous indifference precedes the arrival of the latest small-screen Avengers spin-off, Hawkeye.
Not even Hawkeye seems all that excited about Hawkeye. The six-part series stars a visibly morose Jeremy Renner, reprising his role as reluctant superhero Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, aka the one with the bow and arrow forever playing fourth or fifth fiddle to the Hulk, Captain America and Iron Man.
In this series he is teamed up with a naive young sidekick, portrayed with screwball fizz by Hailee Steinfeld. Alas, her debutante enthusiasm only goes so far and Hawkeye hits the ground as a bit of a pedestrian muddle. It isn’t a disaster and never so bland as to make you want to switch off. But, for better or worse, it lacks the Wagnerian overkill that is a Marvel hallmark
Hawkeye’s budget is alleged to be an eye-watering $25 million per episode. However, it’s difficult to see much of this cash on screen in a series that is by far the most low-key of Marvel’s Disney TV shows to date. The action scenes are perfunctory, the dialogue glum rather than glittering. And the mentor-protégée chemistry between Renner and Steinfeld might be kindly described as a work in progress.
In the trailers, Hawkeye seemed a lot more fun. The action begins in Manhattan the week before Christmas and there are copious shots of skyscrapers, done up in Christmas lights and bearing a passing resemblance to Die Hard’s Nakatomi Plaza. Were it not for Marvel’s prohibition against expletives, you'd half expect to see Barton swinging on a rope shouting “Yippee Ki Yay, motherf-----!”.
Hawkeye may indeed rise to such heights (apparently Florence Pugh turns up reprising her Russian assassin role from Black Widow). In parts one and two, though, it feels more like a honkingly average TV thriller from the late Nineties. Barton and his kids are in New York for Christmas (Linda Cardellini, as his wife, is holding the fort back home for reasons of plot convenience). Sadly, the family holiday comes unstuck when Barton catches news footage of the Ronin, a brutal ninja who disappeared after wiping out every top gangster in New York.
The vigilante’s reappearance comes as a surprise to Barton, because Hawkeye and Ronin are the same person. To those not yet up to speed: Barton/Hawkeye went bonkers when mega-baddie Thanos wiped out his family. Then he tried to sooth his spiritual turmoil by executing criminals. That all ended with the resurrection of his nearest and dearest in Avengers: Endgame. Ronin was retired. So how could he back?
The answer: it’s actually Steinfeld’s Kate Bishop, an archery and martial arts champ who was inspired to take up the bow as a child upon seeing Hawkeye in full flight. Bishop also happens to have been born into a super-wealthy Manhattan family. Which is how she ends up blundering upon a black-tie auction of rare superhero mementos, including the Ronin’s protective outfit. And, as masked robbers crash the party, she duly dons the duds and fights her way to freedom.
Nobody would mistake Marvel for Ken Loach yet there are hints of social commentary in Hawkeye’s portrayal of the Manhattan megabucks elite. Simon Callow has fun as an appalling socialite named Armand, while it falls to Kate’s mother, Eleanor (Vera Farmiga), to point out her daughter’s immense privilege.
With Ronin’s many enemies on Bishop’s tail, she and Barton are forced into a reluctant alliance. The vibe is superhero buddy pic, though the dialogue is never quite as whip-smart as it thinks it is. Barton is also suffering from PTSD following the death, several movies ago, of his best pal, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), while decades of leaping from exploding buildings have left him requiring a hearing aid.
If a long way short of scintillating, Hawkeye nonetheless moves at an agreeable clip. There’s a funny early sequence in which Barton attends "Rogers", a Hamilton-style musical inspired by the Avengers (“I could this is all daaaaay,” sings Captain America). Later, in another amusing set-piece he is forced to infiltrate a gathering of live-action Dungeons and Dragon players. In these moments Renner seems fully plugged-in. By contrast, his engagement visibly dims if he’s required to swoosh around slapping stunt-people.
But Hawkeye is always watchable and comes to life whenever Steinfeld is on screen. And if the series never hits the superhero bullseye, its modest scale is gradually revealed to be its secret weapon. Even the biggest Marvel fans are surely weary of the saga’s stormy set-pieces and bombastic tone. Hawkeye dares to be small and inconsequential. After years of overkill, might that be what the genre requires?
