I have lurked on the outskirts of the Marvel Cinematic Universe almost since its beginning. Though I’ve gone to see nearly every one of the twenty-two films in theaters, unwilling to miss out on the larger pop culture conversation, more often than not I’ve proclaimed my disdain for the franchise to anyone who would listen. I remember using a free ticket voucher to see The Avengers back in 2012, and saying that I wanted my money back. I’ve criticized the emphasis on effects over character development, the focus on quippy dialogue over interesting (or believable) plots. The powers of the various superheroes are often poorly defined, especially as their numbers grew in the last few years.
I got excited about Marvel films when they enlisted directors I loved and let them build a unique picture within the larger framework of the universe. James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy reminded us that heroes might not look like we’d expected; they might, in fact, be a tree and a talking raccoon. Taika Waititi’s Thor: Ragnarok brought color and character to a world that had often been grey. And Ryan Coogler’s Black Panther displayed a culture, an identity, that had been missing, and let us glimpse the beautiful, nuanced world that was possible.
Even after these successes, films I’d be happy to watch again and again, I was still sceptical about the franchise as a whole. I wished the moviegoing public would get as excited about the indie films I loved as they did about these superhero stories. After the commercial success of Avengers: Infinity War, I began to grudgingly admire the world built over the last twenty years, the countless hours and dollars and imaginations that had managed to put together a cohesive story in so many pieces. But I still didn’t think it was good.
I was wrong.
While I stand behind many of my criticisms of the MCU, I left Avengers: Endgame today feeling thankful for the franchise and the story its creators chose to tell. Because Endgame is a story about how good triumphs over evil, and about the price that must be paid for that ultimate victory. Even in this fictional world filled with superheroes who can literally turn back a nuclear bomb, success in the battle against evil is not cheap or easy. The defeat of evil demands a real and painful sacrifice.
When Natasha and Tony give their lives–knowing their choices may not be undone–they willingly give up personal happiness to secure a future for the ones they love. When Steve stands alone before an overwhelmingly, impossibly large army, with his shield broken and his body bruised, he chooses to face certain death rather than admit defeat. When Bruce chooses to bear the burden of the gauntlet, when Dr. Strange carries the weight of the future, when Sam picks up the shield to defend the next generation, each of them and many others put aside any dreams and desires to protect others.
This film will almost certainly become the highest-grossing movie of all time. Millions of people will see it, in dozens of countries around the world. And they might not recognize it, but they’ll get a glimpse of the truth. They’ll see that there is hope. That evil may seem insurmountable and overwhelming, but what we see in front of us right now is not the whole picture. That a sacrifice is required for salvation. And that, because of the sacrifice, evil can be defeated.
So I am awed by the technical achievements of Endgame and by the many story threads that the writers brought together. But more than that, I am surprised and grateful that this is the story we’ll be talking about for the next year, and for the truth it displays. I’m thankful for the reminder that the battle against evil is not eternal, that victory has already been won.
At least until the next film.
*written April 2019