Doctor Strange comic art
For anyone fatigued by the repetitive nature of superhero cinema, Doctor Strange emerges as a refreshing and visually stunning experience. This isn’t just another superhero movie; it’s a deep dive into mystical realms and mind-bending realities, proving that the genre still has exciting new territories to explore. After years of superhero films often devolving into predictable action sequences, Doctor Strange, often referred to by fans as “The Doctor Film,” reignites a sense of wonder and imaginative storytelling that had begun to feel lost. It’s a film that not only entertains but also genuinely intrigues, recalling a time when superhero comics pushed boundaries and explored truly psychedelic concepts.
Stepping back to the genesis of this character, the visual DNA of Doctor Strange is inextricably linked to Steve Ditko. Ditko, the artistic mind behind the comic series launched in 1963, infused it with a distinctly baroque and psychedelic aesthetic. Alongside Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., Doctor Strange stood out as one of Marvel’s most visually adventurous titles of the 1960s. While Nick Fury, under Jim Steranko’s modernist hand, explored sleek, futuristic visuals, Ditko’s Doctor Strange delved into eerie, retro-inspired artistry. His depictions of parallel universes and the monstrous entities inhabiting them were genuinely mind-bending, decorated with elements reminiscent of Aubrey Beardsley and Art Deco. This wasn’t the glamorous, future-tech world of Fury; Strange’s universe was a place of both ethereal beauty and terrifying nightmare, a realm best navigated with a seasoned necromancer as your guide. One of Strange’s notable adversaries was even Nightmare personified, perfectly encapsulating the blend of dream and dread that defined Ditko’s vision.
Scott Derrickson, known for his work in Sinister and The Day the Earth Stood Still, directs Doctor Strange, and while the film doesn’t fully replicate the sheer otherworldliness of Ditko’s panels, it successfully captures key visual elements. Notably, Derrickson brings to life the distinctive round window intersected with arcs, a signature feature of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum in Bleecker Street. Furthermore, Doctor Strange achieves something rare in superhero film adaptations: the lead actor not only embodies the character but arguably surpasses the drawn original in authenticity. Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrayal of Stephen Strange exudes a sophisticated weariness and urbanity that feels perfectly aligned with the character’s essence. By the time Cumberbatch dons the iconic goatee and swirling cape, he doesn’t just resemble Doctor Strange; he embodies a version even more compellingly strange than his comic book counterpart.
Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Strange in a contemplative pose
The screenplay, crafted by Derrickson, Jon Spaihts, and C. Robert Cargill, respectfully adapts the origin story from Strange Tales No. 110 (July 1963) without being rigidly faithful. Stephen Strange is introduced as a brilliant but arrogant neurosurgeon. His hubris is highlighted by a moment of reckless phone use while driving at high speed on treacherous mountain roads during a downpour. This lapse in judgment results in devastating injuries to his hands, the very instruments of his surgical mastery. Desperate for a cure, the staunchly rational Strange embarks on a spiritual quest, leading him to the mythical Kamar-Taj in Kathmandu, Nepal, a place rumored to hold miraculous healing powers.
From this point, the narrative arc of Doctor Strange takes on a familiar, yet engaging, trajectory, akin to an adult-oriented Harry Potter infused with mystic-oriental aesthetics. Kamar-Taj serves as a Hogwarts East, a secluded academy for the mystic arts presided over by the Ancient One, a figure of immense age and wisdom, even surpassing Dumbledore in perceived venerability. Tilda Swinton’s portrayal of the Ancient One is marked by an impeccably urbane grace, suggesting a being who transcends temporal and cultural boundaries. Strange begins his training as a humbled novice among more adept disciples. However, as is typical in apprenticeship narratives, the initially clumsy student rapidly evolves into the star pupil, destined to become the Sorcerer Supreme. This trajectory is even playfully acknowledged through the Cloak of Levitation, a sentient garment that chooses Strange. Like the Sorting Hat in Harry Potter, the Cloak becomes a mischievous, anthropomorphic ally, capable of flight and surprisingly effective in combat, using its hem to dispatch foes with unexpected force.
One of the standout qualities of Doctor Strange, “the doctor film,” is its exceptional casting. While star-studded casts haven’t always guaranteed cinematic success, as seen with Kenneth Branagh’s Thor, Derrickson leverages the European pedigree of his ensemble to great effect. Alongside Cumberbatch and Swinton, the film features British actors Chiwetel Ejiofor and Benedict Wong, and Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen. The European actors imbue their roles with an otherworldly sophistication, setting them apart from the more conventional characters played by Rachel McAdams and Michael Stuhlbarg. Mikkelsen, in particular, delivers a compelling performance as the antagonist Kaecilius, channeling his signature cool menace reminiscent of his roles in Casino Royale and Hannibal. Enhanced with subtle CGI makeup that creates pits of crackling embers around his eyes, Mikkelsen’s Kaecilius is visually striking and genuinely menacing.
Mads Mikkelsen as Kaecilius with crackling eyes
Some critics have noted that the narrative of Doctor Strange, “the doctor film,” follows a somewhat formulaic superhero arc: a hero loses their initial power, undergoes rigorous training to gain even greater abilities, and ultimately saves the world from a looming threat. However, the plot serves primarily as a framework to showcase the film’s true strength: its groundbreaking special effects. The narrative efficiently sets the stage for future installments, particularly for Chiwetel Ejiofor’s Mordo to evolve into a more central, perhaps antagonistic, role. Characterizations, while functional, are elevated by the cast’s performances, imbued with a light touch of Shakespearean gravitas, especially evident in Swinton’s non-traditional portrayal of the Ancient One, who embodies the poised demeanor of a worldly sage, akin to a London PR executive turned feng shui master.
However, the true spectacle of Doctor Strange lies in its visual effects. To say that the film’s success hinges on its effects is not an overstatement; it’s a testament to the innovative visual artistry on display. For those anticipating “the doctor film,” the hope was that it would capture the dimension-hopping weirdness of the comic books, pushing cinematic visuals to their absolute limits. Derrickson, alongside cinematographer Ben Davis, production designer Charles Wood, and special effects supervisor Stéphane Cerretti, not only met but exceeded these expectations. They didn’t just push the envelope; they folded, twisted, and inverted it into a Moebius strip of visual wonder.
The film’s initial visual tour-de-force is a breathtaking city-folding effect, a more advanced iteration of the Parisian cityscape manipulation seen in Christopher Nolan’s Inception. This effect, a signature technique of Mikkelsen’s Kaecilius, involves warping ornate architectural surfaces, rolling up building facades like scrolls, and transforming solid structures into swirling vortexes. Another striking visual element is the crystallization and fragmentation of air itself, creating the illusion of shattered mirrors in mid-air. The film excels in its depiction of textures, exemplified in a scene where Strange’s astral form, while his physical body lies unconscious, manifests as an iridescent, cellophane-like mass.
Doctor Strange astral form
Throughout “the doctor film,” there’s a clear influence of M.C. Escher’s artwork, with the effects team seemingly exploring how to translate Escher’s impossible geometries into three-dimensional, and even four or five-dimensional, cinematic space. One particularly inventive effect involves Kaecilius seemingly slicing and reconstituting his own body in ways that defy conventional spatial understanding. The brilliance of the visual effects in Doctor Strange is their consistent complexity and depth, inviting multiple viewings to fully grasp the spatial and geometric intricacies. It represents a high point in CGI artistry, achieving a sublime level of 3D complexity, so much so that the effects department could aptly be renamed Non-Euclidean Light and Magic.
A standout sequence early in Strange’s apprenticeship is reminiscent of a condensed, visual cousin to Ken Russell’s Altered States. It’s a disorienting, rollercoaster-like journey where Strange is ejected from his body and earthly consciousness, plunged into a dimension of polymorphic transformations. His hands multiply fractally, his face morphs into a composition of hands (evoking Arcimboldo’s anatomical paintings), and the perspective plunges into an infinite regress of mouths within mouths. This mind-scrambling experience, orchestrated by the Ancient One for Strange’s enlightenment and audience amusement, highlights her role as a special-effects auteur within the film itself. She explains to Strange that “spells” are essentially systems for reprogramming consciousness, “the source code that shapes reality.” In this light, the Ancient One is not just a sorcerer but a guru of CGI theory and practice, and Doctor Strange‘s dizzying visuals are a spectacular demonstration of the boundless potential of digital visual arts.
Jonathan Romney is a contributing editor to Film Comment and a member of the London Film Critics Circle.
