One X-Cellent Scene: Sentinels Attack

Multi-collab projects seem to be a regular occurrence these days. First it was Lessons Animation Taught Us. Then it was One Marvelous Scene, discussing The MCU. Then it was Star Wars Defined. Now it’s One X-Cellent Scene, focusing on the X-Men movies. I’m still waiting for The Pixar-Perfect Moment, my idea, to take off…

The X-Men movies have had their ups-and-downs, both qualitatively and behind-the-scenes, but their ability to pull off ensembles pre-MCU made them an anomaly for most of the 2000’s. It’s easy to take it for granted now, given what we’ve seen in the last 12 years, but there was a time when multiple heroes would’ve been a risk. For that reason, it’s easy to call the X-Men movies trailblazers. And while the franchise has fizzled out in recent years, its biggest achievement comes from its 7th entry, X-Men: Days of Future Past.

2014 was a great year for films based on Marvel IPs. We got four in one Summer, and, save The Amazing Spider-Man 2, all of them were well-received. Yet while The MCU’s entries may have aged better, X-Men: Days of Future Past was the still most interesting and ambitious. It not only had to be a direct sequel to X-Men: First Class, it had to tie into the first three X-Men films, fix the mistakes of X-Men: The Last Stand, jump off of The Wolverine and set the stage for X-Men: Apocalypse. And all while adapting one of comics’ most-famous stories. That it pulled this off while also being satisfying is no easy feat, and its key moment is its climax.

X-Men: Days of Future Past takes place in the future, where mankind’s enslaved by shapeshifting sentinels and mutants are nearly extinct. The surviving mutants have formed an underground resistance, but the odds change when Wolverine enters the picture. Due to complicated plot contrivances involving Shadowcat’s time-travelling skills and Wolverine’s healing factor, Wolverine’s sent to 1973 to stop the event that’d kickstart everything. And the clock’s already ticking.

The scene I want to discuss occurs, like I said, during the climax, and it spans the two timelines. In the future, the mutant resistance has to hold off the sentinels and buy Shadowcat and Wolverine time. In the past, Wolverine, Professor X and Beast must confront Magneto and prevent him from murdering Trask. As the carnage of the future mixes with the suspense of the past, we’re left with a question: can the crisis be averted?

At first glance, it seems that no, it can’t. As the opening suggests, the mutants can buy themselves time, but only so much. Because sentinels are shapeshifters, they’ll forever have the upper-hand, as shown by them mowing down mutants like disposable pawns. Seeing that happen again, right as pivotal moments are happening in the past, makes it nail-biting. It’s the classic “all is lost moment”, except with higher stakes.

It doesn’t help that the little sacrifices end up meaning nothing: so Magneto blew up Professor X’s ship and stopped most of the sentinels? Too bad, the shrapnel severely wounded him. So Storm and Bishop were able to fend off early waves? Too bad, more sentinels have arrived. So Sunspot and Blink stalled for time? Too bad, they’re disposed of quickly. Even Iceman, who puts up a fight inside the hideout, is taken out with little effort, leaving a badly-wounded Shadowcat and Wolverine’s body fully-exposed.

The past isn’t fairing much better! Between Professor X being temporarily trapped, Beast having no chance alone and Trask’s sentinels under Magneto’s control, it seems like the future’s inevitable. Even Mystique, who’s dead-set on murdering Trask, refuses to budge. And right in the middle of this, the TV cameras are pointed at Magneto, who’s surrounded an empty stadium with sentinels, has Trask and several other politicians in the centre of it and is pointing all of them down with loaded guns. Both timelines are looking pretty grim.

And then Magneto gives a big, weighty speech, summarizing his philosophy and stating the message of the film. Ignoring the crosscuts between timelines, there are two points about this moment that make it powerful. The first, an external factor that’s largely speculative, is Proposition 8. Proposition 8 was a controversial amendment to California’s legislature that barred same-sex marriage, and it was repealed fully in 2013. Proposition 8 might not be mentioned, but given that Bryan Singer, the director, is gay, and that the franchise carries with it pro-gay undertones, it can’t be accidental that Proposition 8’s repeal and the timing of this movie were so close. Especially when looking at how this movie mirrors the history of gay people.

The second, one that holds more ground, is how younger Magneto’s speech ends right as older Magneto expresses his regrets to Professor X. As he says:

“All those years spent fighting each other, Charles…to have a precious few of them back…”

This is a big deal for Magneto, as he’s spent most of his life consumed by the vengeance brought on from being both a Jewish Holocaust survivor and a mutant. He’s so caught up in rage, he hasn’t seen clearly the damage he’s caused. He hasn’t seen how he’s driven people away. He hasn’t seen how his attempts at deflecting missiles in X-Men: First Class literally paralyzed Professor X. But most-importantly, he hasn’t seen how his radicalization of Mystique led her to murder Trask. He might clamour for a fight, but at what cost?

Of course, young Magneto’s taken out by Mystique soon after, leading to her final choice: does she murder Trask on camera, become a monster and kickstart the apocalyptic future, or does she listen to young Professor X’s words and spare him? It’s a tense moment, and it comes right as the future sentinels have taken out Iceman and are about to blow up Wolverine’s body. So much is relying on that moment, especially as Mystique cocks her gun. Essentially, it’s a “will she, or won’t she?” moment.

Ultimately, she chooses not to murder Trask, realizing she’d be no better than him if she did. And with that final decision, the future apocalypse vanishes. The sentinel’s blast stops, everyone in that room disappears, and the tension resolves. It’s over, like it never happened. And it’s brilliant.

It helps that this scene has excellent use of film techniques: there are lots of crosscuts between past and present, with audio bleeding over. Much of the action in the future battle’s slowed down, signalling how tragic and hopeless it is. Each death is focused on individually, so as to show weight. Even the music, which alternates between loud and frenetic in the past and slow and miserable in the future, is great, and the main score’s even noticeable at one point. But the part that makes it work best is that we’ve come to care for these characters.

A lot’s been said about these movies: how influential they are. How dated they feel. How the director of four of them is an accused pedophile. All of these are worth discussing in further detail, but the one constant is getting people to think. So much depth exists here, and this scene’s a microcosm of why. It’s truly One X-Cellent Scene.

It’s too bad the franchise took a nosedive in quality following its success, but that’s what Logan and the Deapool movies are for, right?