Well, it certainly wasn't that in my experience.
Seriously though, while I think he's taking it a bit far, there's more than a little kernel of truth in what rightsuperhero is saying here. Julian Darius had
a particularly scathing review up on sequart.org, and after tearing into the films' rampant amorality and lack of basic logic, he had this to say (and on the off chance he sees this, I hope I can be forgiven for copying and pasting so much here, but I'm trying to stick to relevant portions, and he says it better than I could anyway). You might disagree with his analysis of what constitutes ideal, but I dare anyone to say he doesn't have a point:
"We now seem to live in a culture that believes “suspension of disbelief” is a license not to write stories involving super-heroes or magic but to have
no internal logic, to continuously introduce elements and situations that make absolutely no sense, even on a story’s own terms. And if anyone dares to point out that this is objectively bad storytelling, fans line up to shout that pointing out what should be an obvious fact is “ruining our fun.” Quality means nothing. Writing means nothing. The spectacle is all.
"
Guardians of the Galaxy is a symptom of this disease. It feels unfair to single it out, especially because it’s not the worst offender. It is simply the newest offensively stupid movie in a long string of offensively stupid movies, which have nonetheless garnered praise from people who really ought to know better. As I write this, there are scores of critics, schooled in storytelling, who are swallowing what they know to be true, burying their criticisms in parentheticals and sentences that appear to be modifying generally positive reviews, simply because these critics are also intelligent enough to recognize that our culture is awash in a sea of stupid, in which the grossest of infractions of basic narrative logic are routinely forgiven because computer-animated anthropomorphic raccoons flying out of explosions look cool. No one, least of all an intellectual, wants to be seen as a party-pooper – or as an elitist, lecturing others on the basic rules of
how stories work, while people obviously seem to be enjoying these “stories.” So in order to fit in and not rock the fanboy boat, we grade these movies on a heavy curve, praising a little humor or use of 1970s songs as if that’s oh-so-different. And so you’ll read about how “brave” it was to mount a summer blockbuster starring D-list characters in outer space, as if this “offbeat” story wasn’t sanitized and pasteurized in every way imaginable – and as if Marvel Studios wasn’t
created based on the success of B-list and C-list characters who Hollywood considered unworthy of licensing.
...
"Perhaps more than any Marvel movie to date,
Guardians of the Galaxy is explicit about what it’s doing. It sets up its own perimeters for how it wants to be criticized and understood. “Idiots unite!” is its rallying cry, calling upon us to find our inner idiot – which is smart marketing, because shutting off our brains is surely the only way we could enjoy this anti-intellectual, misanthropic, glitzy story that eschews the rudiments of narrative logic. If we’re unable or unwilling to do so, we have “sticks up our butts.” We’re the town from
Footloose. And thus does the movie arm every fanboy who can’t distinguish between criticism and a personal attempt to ruin his fun… you know, by
pointing things out that exist.
"But at some point, we have to stop grading these movies on the curve, just because we’re happy to see comics turned into successful movies. We’re a long, long way from the first
X-Men, when just making a movie that was fun and didn’t suck was good enough. At some point, we’re going to have to admit that Marvel Studios is really, really good at making slick and beautiful movies that are catastrophic messes, the moment you begin examining them. Pull any one of a hundred frayed threads, and the whole movie comes undone. And at some point, we’ve got to say that this
isn’t good enough.
"We’ve got to remember that the dream of comics being respected was
never to see Thor 40 feet tall in 3D. It was
never to see billion-dollar blockbusters. It was that comics, including but not limited to super-hero comics, could be every bit as literary and valuable as the greatest of novels or of films. The dream wasn’t that super-heroes could be the next
Titanic. It was that comics could stand alongside
Ulysses and
Citizen Kane. That they could be just as sophisticated, just as meaningful. No, not
every comic-book movie needs to have such aspirations, any more than every
comic book needs to have them. But they shouldn’t so ubiquitously have
contempt for these aspirations. And
some of them, just once in a while, might dare to embrace those aspirations.
"Now,
that would be a daring super-hero movie.
"In the meantime, I’m done praising pabulum, however entertaining or even well-made, simply by the standards of glitzy products. I’m done pretending that having a
theme, usually just another coming-of-age story (often starring the same character who came of age last time around), is the same as
saying something. I’m done pretending a few political riffs means a super-hero movie can stand alongside something serious. I’m done with the charity and misguided loyalty of grading on the curve.
"We’re long past the point where doing so could be seen as supporting comics. Comics movies are doing fine. At this point, pretending another glitzy clusterfuck is anything other than what it is can only infantilize comics further. Because that’s what the world thinks comics are now: glossy entertainment with no nutritional value whatsoever. We’re the candy bars of pop culture.
"And I just can’t take it anymore."