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The Nature of a Hero in Fantastic Four: First Steps

A long time ago (and no, I won’t finish that sentence…), in the before times, I started writing a series of reflections on the Nature of a Hero. I added to that periodically through the subsequent years, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been motivated to re-consider these themes. Largely disappointed with what has become a mass market of superhero stories recently, I had forgotten the power that these stories can have in the lives of the viewer or reader. Marvel’s latest cinematic installment, Fantastic Four: First Steps, had brought me back to thinking about this theme, though, because it has a depth that has been missing in recent Marvel and DC films.

I’ve written a more general review elsewhere of the movie, and here I want to focus on the theological themes, but I’ll say up front that this is the first movie since the most recent Spider-Man installment in which I’ve truly felt as though I’ve seen an exploration of heroism. The character of a superhero is, at it’s surface, someone who has some sort of advantage over those around them, whether that be resources, abilities, or metahuman powers. They can do things that the rest of us can’t. In reality, those are only storytelling devices to get to the depth of the nature of a hero, however, as the constitution of a hero is ultimately the choice to take what they have use it for the better (usually in the defense of) those around them, often at great cost to themselves.

The Fantastic Four, as the team was originally concieved, is ultimately about family. The characters go through a life-changing crisis with each other that results in them gaining their abilities, and that crisis could have proven catastrophic. They get through it because they are there for each other, as a family, both in the biological and extended sense of the word. They are role models for how family members support each other, without question and without condemnation. They are heroes to each other first, and by extension, heroes to the rest of the world. This movie introduces the Fantastic Four to the MCU in a separate timeline, where they are the only heroes, and have been world-changing, positive influences to the world around them. The world-building shows a dream of a planet at peace because of their heroism, but the focus, established by a positive pregnancy test in the first scene, is inward, as a family unit. This is the state of their timeline when they are visited by the Silver Surfer, heralding the coming of Galactus and the destruction of the Earth.

As the plot progresses and the Fantastic Four encounters Galactus for the first time…not as adversaries, but as explorers…we’re suddenly gut-punched by a theological metaphor that’s difficult to miss. To spare the Earth, Galactus demands Franklin, Sue’s unborn child. Reed refuses. Insistent, Galactus uses the power cosmic to induce Sue’s labor then and there, and the heroes narrowly escape.

They return to New York, already being celebrated as heroes. When the gathered crowd is advised of Galactus’ demand and their refusal to pay it, the crowd becomes angry, demanding an answer to “are we safe?” There remains an uneasy tension as the Earth wrestles with the ethics of sacrificing one to save millions. The good of the many, as Spock tolds us decades ago, outweighs the good of the few. And so we watch Sue Storm fiercely protect her son from a public desperate to ensure their survival.

There’s no escaping a Christological metahpor here: the sacrifice of one’s child to save humanity. This is compounded by the fact that comics readers know that Franklin will grow up to possess a nearly omnipotent ability to re-write reality to his will. Of course, all metaphors break down at some point, and I’m not sure that this one in particular was intentional on the part of the writers, but it’s certainly there. Of course, Sue and Reed refuse to sacrifice their child, and any mortal parent would make the same choice, I think, hero or otherwise. This reinforces the higher level of love showed by Christ, “…in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, NKJV). 

There is a different spiritual theme that’s driven home, as well. Not necessarily theological, but spiritual in a more secular sense, is the focus on saving the family. Sue’s monologue to the gathered crowd is beautifully written, and she does something very important in this speech. She re-defines her family as all of those gathered. The important message here, and one to which I think our culture would do well to listen, is that we all have more in common than we think. What Sue does that’s so important in this scene is to break down the “us vs. them” mentality, and the result is a world-wide cooperation in a plan to save the planet that would seem to be an impossible dream in our world today.

The concept of heroic self-sacrifice enters the story at least one more time, as the Silver Surfer wrestles with her role in contributing to the deaths of billions of people on various planets in her role as Galactus’ herald. She accepted this role in a self-sacrificial gesture, choosing to be indentured into this servitude to spare her own planet and family, but appears to come to a realization of the lives she’s traded by the end of the film. Ultimately, she chooses to sacrifice herself in a more complete sense by defeating Galactus, pushing him through the portal and away from Earth instead of Johnny. Here, she chooses again to take someone else’s place in a heroic act, but in this moment, she chooses repentance from her lethal travels as Galactus’ herald.

Part of the reason I’ve been so enamored with this film is that it’s the first superhero film in some time that I’ve seen do what superhero stories should do: provide a metaphorical depth that causes us to theologically wrestle with the human condition or, at best, our relationship to God. At its core, this is the reason I’ve always loved comics and superhero stories, and it’s been absent in most movie ventures of late. I’m thrilled to see it return. I encourage you to see Fantastic Four: First Steps, and see how it causes you to think about these themes.

A Review of “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania”

Let me say in advance: I enjoyed this film. This first installment in Phase 5 is a very solid movie.

I used to know the dates of Marvel’s film releases months in advance, have blocked off opening night on my calendar, arranged child care. These were events. A lot of things have changed since then. My wife just isn’t as interested in Marvel (Civil War was a very negative experience for her), so I frequently am seeing these films with a friend or, in the case of this one, solo. The black swan event that was the two-year pandemic also de-prioritized these sorts of events for me, given that I was waiting until the last possible moment to see movies in as sparsely-attended an auditorium as possible.

In any case, Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania sort of crept up and caught me unawares. I didn’t write about much of Phase 4 of the MCU here, because almost half of it was such a massive disappointment. The series began strong and then fizzled, and had it not been for Spider-Man and Dr. Strange, I think I may have stopped going to see the films entirely. Black Panther was technically Phase 4 also, but it and Dr. Strange felt like a turning point to higher quality offerings again. So, on a snowy New England evening, I made time to get to a theatre (still more than a week after it opened) to see this quantum adventure.

I think that Ant-Man is an interesting character, both conceptually, and in his backstory. Scott Lang is very much an everyman, turning away from a life of crime and only falling back into it in order to have contact with his daughter, lost in a divorce. Conceptually, his ability to control ants very much sets him apart from his DC counterpart, the Atom, and makes the character unusual. His journey from everyman to reluctant hero makes Ant-Man more relatable to the audience than many other super-hero characters, and I really like that he was so instrumental in defeating Thanos at the conclusion of the Infinity War saga. Still, I initially thought that this movie was a curious choice to begin Phase 5.

What worked well in that respect is that this movie is a great bridge. No new characters are really introduced here, with the exception of the new identities of characters we’ve seen before in MODOK and Stature. The world-building of the Quantum Realm is exceptional. What we thought was a dangerous, lonely, sub-atomic plane we discover to be a populated universe, a realm outside of time and space, which is why Kang has been exiled there. Building out this place and filling in the events in the original Wasp’s life over her 30 years lost in the Quantum Realm make it a solid film from a storytelling perspective. Not the most amazing we’ve seen from Marvel, but a very enjoyable, well-written adventure.

What is particularly well-done in this movie is the development of the relationship between Scott and Cassie as they make up for the lost years of the Blip. Janet trying to recover a lost childhood with her mother runs as a parallel story arc, the through-line being something that the audience can’t help but relate to: Failures in a parent-child relationship and attempts to repair them. That is ultimately what drives this film.

The purpose of Quantumania, though, is developing our villain. While Kang was introduced in Loki season 1, and while we will see many variants of him moving forward, this film was really two hours to develop him as a character and establish his backstory. This is really critical. A hero story or story arc (think Phases 5 and 6) cannot succeed without a compelling villain. Impotent villains, or stereotyped villains, make the heroes opposite them feel 1-dimensional, the conflict predictable. Kang is a very different villain than was Thanos, and we now have a solid foundation for him moving forward. My only complaint is that, after building him up as such a dangerous character, it almost feels strange that Ant-Man and the Wasp manage to defeat him in the end. This is slightly more workable than the all-too-easy defeat of Ultron years ago, because we know that we will encounter more dangerous variants of Kang moving forward. Still, it was a moment of incongruity.

This is a really good movie, with great world-building and solid character development. In case you were skeptical of the MCU after a mostly lackluster Phase 4, this movie isn’t going to astound you, but it’s worth seeing as a good foundation for what’s to come.

Here’s to Phase 5.

Thoughts on Black Panther II: Wakanda Forever

When someone passes, they leave a void in the lives of those around them. When that person is a performing artist, and they are known for a role that was deeply impactful to a huge audience, that void is magnified exponentially. That was the case when Chadwick Boseman, who played the role of T’Challa, a.k.a. the Black Panther, passed away in 2020. He drew us into a classic character in the Marvel Cinematic Universe before appearing in his own film, Black Panther, which I would argue is possibly the best film that Marvel has produced. As fans around the world reeled at the news, many of us wondered what would happen to the character, to the story arc?

The worst thing that directors can do in a circumstance in which an actor, especially an actor who has mastered such an important role, passes, is simply re-cast the role and continue the story arc as-is. With few exceptions, audiences just won’t be on board. The beauty of the art form is that the character has now come alive for us, embodied in this actor, and, Time Lords aside, new faces might be accepted, but they just don’t work in the long run.

That’s why I think that Wakanda Forever is exactly what the story needs, and what audiences need, as the MCU moves forward. This story is about the void. It’s about those left behind. It’s about a nation and a people that still need a hero, but find that hero to be suddenly taken away from them. This is a story about mourning. It is a hero story without a hero.

Accordingly, the movie begins letting the audience experience the grief of the loss, giving us a few moments…not rushed…to mourn with the rest of the characters on the screen, before being thrust into the aftermath of T’Challa’s death. The central character here is Shuri, T’Challa’s sister, and, while we’re introduced to new characters such as Namor the Sub-Mariner and Ironheart, this is very much her story. The through-line is her grief, and the nation-state conflicts and political power-struggles between Wakanda, Talokan, and the United States are really just vehicles to walk her character through the grief process. The action sequences mostly concede (final climactic battle excepted) to character development, especially the Wakandan characters that we’ve seen in previous films, which really gives the audience something to digest. It is difficult to watch a hero film without a hero, difficult to sit with that emptiness of grief, but it is the only way to give this story arc the treatment that it deserves and, given other recent catastrophic failures in this phase of the MCU, I’m both relieved and respectful that the writers did so.

This film is more, though. It deals with the natural human reactions to trauma: confronting the collision of faith and empiricism in un-answered prayers, and the desire to strike back at the world in anger. More than grief explored, Wakanda Forever is a story of faith vs. uncertainty, and, perhaps most of all, a morality tale on the dangers of seeking revenge.

It’s not that I didn’t have problems with the film. While I think that the depth of not only African but Aztec cultures are beautifully presented, the decision to make Namor and his people not be from Atlantis just didn’t work for the comics purist in me. I can see why the decision was made from a writing standpoint though, as it wouldn’t be seen as original given that DC got there first.

All in all, though, Wakanda Forever stands out for me in a Phase 4 that has been, at best, about 50% worthwhile. This was a fantastic film with which to end this phase, and, above all, it pays respect to Boseman’s legacy with the character, while building a solid foundation for where the new Black Panther will take us. I highly recommend this film.

A Review of “Thor: Love and Thunder”

I’ve been unpacking the realization that the MCU has been declining in quality lately. I don’t think that this is because of the quality of acting (most of the actors have been outstanding), or lack of aspiration. I can see the desire to fold in the many aspects of the comics history, and there is brilliance…even if it is a bit of a deus ex machina…to utilize the multiverse as a device to do so. And while films like Spider-Man and the most recent Dr. Strange have been exceptions, I’ve felt let down by most of the other films and series over the past few months. Moon Knight and Ms. Marvel both failed to achieve their potential. Eternals was the first Marvel film that I couldn’t bring myself to even finish it was so bad.

I had no respect for Ragnarok, but I also hoped…naively…that even Taika Waititi couldn’t destroy Thor worse than he had in that film. My hope proved it’s naiveté. Ragnarok did so much violence to the character and displayed such a blatant disrespect for the genre that, had I not been seeing it with a friend, I would have walked out. Love and Thunder continued that pattern.

What confuses me most about these travesties of films is, why would the powers that be for the MCU, who have shown such a dedication to quality, continuity, and good art up until this point, allow someone who obviously has no respect for the genre to write and direct? And to continue to write and direct one of their most popular characters, at that? Both of these films are taking a character that was developed in a deep and compelling way in previous films, and using that character to openly mock the storyline and the genre itself.

What disappoints me the most about these films is that Thor is one of my favorite characters, and we finally had the opportunity to see Jane Foster take on the mantle of Thor. We could have had a brilliant film about Jane, her struggles, her desire to be, and her growth into, a hero. Instead we have…whatever this film was.

In Ragnarok, Waititi casually and carelessly disregarded previous continuity. He broke Thor’s speech patterns, altered his character by stripping away his bravery and ethical code, and cast characters as gods that had been previously been considered only aliens, thus altering a fundamental foundation of the cinematic universe. Because the other directors and writers of the MCU are still committed to continuity, they had to work with the mess Waititi had left them (which is why so-called “fat Thor” was such a blight on the otherwise fantastic Infinity War and Endgame films). These fracture lines continue to weaken the other films in painful ways.

In Love and Thunder, the passionate dislike for the genre that is evident in the storytelling extends to a more general irreverence for everything, but particularly for religion. As much as Waititi obviously dislikes the genre, he seems to hate religion even more, and has presumed to re-write the characters here to fit his vendetta. There’s nothing worse than art with an agenda, and, as terrible a film as Ragnarok was, this makes Love and Thunder even worse. Essentially, the bulk of the film is so-called comedy with the intention of callously mocking absolutely everything.

The scenes that aren’t comedy are melodrama, over-the-top emotional events that aren’t earned. They throw the audience into a confused emotional spiral because there has been no lead-up, no explanation aside from a few lines thrown in as after-thoughts. It’s painful, emotional whiplash, and I suspect that the laughter I did hear in the audience was as much confusion as anything else, because it was difficult to track anything over these 2 hours.

I really wanted to like a move with a Guns N’ Roses soundtrack, and, if I’m to find anything positive in this mess, it’s that I have respect for scoring an action sequence to Slash’s guitar solo from “November Rain.” Soundtrack excellence notwithstanding, the action sequences were chaotic, and chaos seems to have been the goal.

Love and Thunder continues to perpetuate the damage done in Ragnarok, potentially to an un-recoverable point. The film doesn’t know what it wants to be, other than to be over-the-top at the expense of quality. Its purpose is to get a cheap laugh or tear at any cost. After seeing the (un-earned) death of a character we care about, we’re told in the end credits that “Thor will return.” I almost wish that weren’t the case at this point. I sincerely hope that, if he (or she) does, it will be with a different artistic direction, because that is all that will save this particular franchise.

If you haven’t seen Thor: Love and Thunder yet, save yourself the pain and read a synopsis. Believe me, that will be bad enough.

Image attribution: edenpictures under Creative Commons.

A Review of “Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness”

These are different times.

As much as I love superhero mythologies and as much as I could talk about them forever, it seems out of step that it’s taking me this long to write a review about a movie that opened nearly a month ago. Before the world broke, I wrote about these films on opening weekend because we had scheduled everything else around seeing them. For the last two years, it’s been rare for me to sit in a theatre (the last time was Back Widow), and writing out my thoughts has seemed…less important. So, seeing this in person was a mark of returning normalcy. Given how late I am in writing this, though, I’m not going to avoid spoilers.

First off, let me say that there are some prerequisites for this film. If you’ve been following the Disney + series, and have seen Spider-Man: No Way Home, you should be good. In case you haven’t though, you should (in order) watch WandaVision, What If?, Loki, and Spider-Man. Otherwise, this might not make much sense to you, because the last time you saw Wanda Maximoff, she would not have been the villain.

Yes, you read that correctly.

What slapped me in the face for this movie is that everything that you thought you knew from the trailer is turned on its head in the first 15 minutes. Dr. Strange made some difficult decisions in order to defeat Thanos, and those choices introduced even more loss for Wanda. We saw her grief overtake her in WandaVision, walked through that grief with her, and when we last saw Wanda, she was growing into her own abilities by entertaining the Darkhold. Remember that Wanda is a Scarlet Witch, a wielder of chaos magic, and, as such, has become an incredibly powerful being almost overnight. Also remember that the Darkhold corrupts those who read it. Here we discover that she has learned of the multiverse, and is searching for a way to bring her children into the universe we know as canonical in the MCU (numbered 616). Moreso than when we left the end of WandaVision, we discover the Scarlet Witch quite literally mad with grief.

As an aside, I think a good deal of inspiration for this plot was taken from the Avengers: Disassembled story arc, if you’re familiar with the source material.

For the geeks among us, we also find that the MCU is differentiating heavily between sorcery and witchcraft. Wong confirms that a Scarlet Witch is a being of unspeakable power, who can re-write reality at will. In Avengers: Disassembled, Dr. Strange points out that Wanda, as a mutant, had an enormous amount of magical power thrust onto her without ever learning the discipline necessary to control it. Of course, we haven’t been able to have mutants in the MCU until now because lawyers, but it provides interesting context.

That said, what Marvel seems to be doing here is finding a creative way to bring in not only popular previous films (i.e.: other Spider-Man incarnations), but also to explain why we haven’t had mutants to begin with now that the legal walls in the real world seem to be coming down (hence, we see Charles Xavier in this film). There are simply different universes in the multiverse, and we now know that there can be potential incursions from one to the other due not only to the magic wielded in this movie, but also by the actions of Kang in the Loki series. I think the viewers stand to see a lot more variety due to this.

The visual effects in this movie are nothing short of spectacular, particularly the initial action sequence in which Dr. Strange is fighting a monster rampaging through the city, as well as later jumping between universes. Also, introducing Professor X and Mr. Fantastic into the MCU was accomplished so unexpectedly and almost with a backward wave that the viewer is left in a sort of stunned silence. I want to re-watch the movie now because I’m certain I missed something important here as I was processing what I had just seen.

What I found to be the most thought-provoking part of the story of this second installment of Dr. Strange is watching how other heroes interact with Stephen Strange. As he makes continued, apparently callous decisions in an effort to preserve countless lives across universes (similar to what we saw in Spider-Man: No Way Home), his actions have enormous consequences on his fellow heroes. While Peter Parker rejects this outright and fights to save as many people as he can in the previous film, Wanda turns inward, propelled by grief, holding Dr. Strange responsible for the death of Vision and the loss of her children, and lashing out with violence.

Speaking of violence, there’s a good deal of it in this movie…more than in previous Marvel films, which, while not enough to be off-putting, was enough that I noticed. I haven’t found Disney to be interested in gore in any way, but some scenes of this movie manage to get close.

There are definitely things that I dislike about the film, though, and one of them is the ending. Dr. Strange turns to dark magic, in fact to the Darkhold, using necromancy to win the battle in the end. And, while Wanda ultimately sees the error of her choices and chooses to sacrifice herself for the greater good as a hero, I’m concerned by watching heroes cross the line into dark choices and leaving the audience with the impression that this is a heroic decision. I found this part of the plot disappointing, as Dr. Strange defies the nature of a hero. I also feel like Wanda’s sacrifice happened so quickly that it’s almost missed. I didn’t truly unpack the emotional ramifications of that scene until days later, and, while few characters really die in the comics, I still grieve over the end of a tragic character we’ve grown to sympathize with so deeply.

Overall, I was impressed by Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, even though I wish the ending had been handled better. This takes the story in the only direction it could truly go as the MCU continues to reinvent itself after the Snap, and we see the character development here that keeps us returning to these movies. This is definitely a movie worth seeing, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Image attribution: Luka Zou under Creative Commons.