Every so often, as we traipse through the plastic wonderland that is this 250 Lego Reviews series, we will encounter a teensy-tiny mis-step. A zig where a zag should have been. A slight miscalculation of allocated funds. No set is perfect. No purchasing decision is inviolate. Occasionally, we’re going to come across a set that, for whatever reason, fails to excite the sense in, perhaps, the way we had hoped.
And then there’s 6865 Captain America’s Avenging Cycle, which is the Lego equivalent of Artax trying to swim the Swamp of Sadness.
We all understand that licensed sets cost a little more than normal Lego sets. Logic dictates that the producer is going to pass on the extra expense of the license to the customer in the expectation that brand recognition and the media-driven dream fulfillment wishes of eight year olds will result in the extra sales necessary to defray the initial cost. We get that.
Even so, this set is taking the piss.
Some time ago, when my son decided he had grown out of Lego and needed money for computer games, I bought his collection from him. That’s the only way I can even imagine Captain America’s Avenging Cycle being in my collection. It’s exactly the sort of thing a small boy would want, and the fact that he decided he’d grown out of it and would rather play Halo shows how much it endeared itself to him. And let’s be honest, he’s right.
For a start, the set is basically a motorbike made up of two parts. I mean, the whole set takes just over 60, and the major play element takes as much time to put together as biting down on a chip. Added to that, there’s a flyer that doesn’t even look as if it met the vehicle from the Avengers movie it’s pretending to be at a distant cousin’s wedding. Two Chitauri minifigs who look like they’ve been created from a child’s drawing of a Chitauri made two months after watching the movie, and a rock-gun-blob-thingy that nobody would remember from anything complete the set. I don’t even have the Chitauri minifigs in my collection: they’ve been lost, sold, or otherwise discarded somewhere along the line, and frankly, I don’t even care.
The less said about the Captain America minifigure, the better. Is that his head? Is the helmet painted on? Is it his skin? I mean, every other minifig in the world has a helmet, they put an actual Lego helmet on the cylinder thing that we all understand as the head. Is this face paint? Did he shrinkwrap a helmet on there? Is he a work experience changeling?
The whole thing. Minus two of the three seriously buttplug-ugly minifigs. How do they even fly that least-aerodynamic-thing-in-the-history-of-the-Universe anyway? They didn’t even make a pretence at including anything you could even imagine were controls.
Who cares. Into the ugly bucket with him. (I have an ugly bucket. It’s where the big, useless pieces that can never be reused in a MOC go. It’s bigger than it should be.)
A picture of the manual, just to show you what the missing ugly Chiaturi figs are supposed to look like, next to deformed-head Captain Facepaint.
Expensive, ugly, and utterly joyless to build. There isn’t a single positive thing I can say about this set. It’s trash: a cynical cash-in that clearly worked on a day when I wanted to pick up something for a child who quickly realised we’d both been conned.
This is a bad set, designed by bad people who should feel bad.
Just awful in every way.
The League Table of Awesomeness
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