Avengers: Endgame Is A Culmination Of What It Means To Be A Man in the Marvel Cinematic Universe [MAJOR SPOILERS]
An evolution of masculinity and its place in a more diverse and dynamic world that is thrillingly unlike any other that’s been on the silver screen
MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD
Tony Stark was a womaniser and weapons dealer with no care for the consequences of his actions. Thor was filled with bluster and ignorance, believing that the hammer he wielded and the strength that came with it were owed to him. Steve Rogers wanted to fight for his country and never backed away from a fight, despite his physical failings. He was courage incarnate, doing what’s right no matter what, but it meant he would never be able to be with the love of his life.
By the time Avengers: Endgame is over — an astounding, overwhelming and moving achievement that is both an ending and a beginning — these three central characters of this unmatched saga have become more in so many ways. As heroes. As symbols. As men. To the ones they love. To other heroes, old and new. To us. Whether by design or not, the Marvel Cinematic Universe has become a powerful and fascinating exploration of what it means to be a good man, and the ever changing nature of it. Endgame is the culmination of this evolution.
The theme of failing to understand the consequence of one’s actions arises at the very beginning with Iron Man (2008). Stark is forced to literally come face to face with what his actions and deeds have wrought. Stuck in that cave, surrounded by his weapons of death. When he emerges, it’s not just the first version of the iron man suit that comes out, but the first version of the new Tony Stark, ready to right the wrongs of what he has done. The addiction to this causes more damage, both to himself and to the world around him, exemplifying a man’s need to fix his mistakes so stubbornly. Stark doesn’t always get it right, and he must reckon with that, sometimes going against his better judgement. At least this time he understands that he has to face the ramifications of his actions.
When he and Nebula return to Earth after the events of Infinity War, Stark breaks down utterly — he’s gone through more than ever throughout his entire arc. His broken confession to Rogers that he ‘lost the kid’ (Peter Parker) is utterly devastating.
Thor has a problem with humility and insightfulness. He always assumed that he’s the strongest person in the room and that he’ll be able to fight his way out of any situation, no matter how dire. But over the course of the saga so much of what he assumed was his right got stripped away from him. His home, his hammer, his belief in his power. By the time of Endgame, he’s let go of himself — physically, mentally and emotionally, fighting online trolls instead of real ones. He’s a punchline, barely a shadow of who he used to be as a person.
When he breaks down upon seeing his mother Frigga during the exhilarating time heist portion of the film, it’s a release for the Asgardian. Frigga knows who he truly is (and that he’s also from the future), and Thor must embrace that. And so his despair dissipates, and he comes to understand that to be truly worthy is to be more than just the strongest. His infectious optimism became touched with a vulnerability and softness that brought with it malleability. While his bravado and oneupmanship doesn’t completely disappear (a wonderful exchange with Rogers during the final battle about weapon choices is a prime example) it’s no longer toxic to himself.
Steve Rogers is the inversion of both Stark and Thor. An ideal, a true hero. The moral centre of the universe who has only ever wanted to do the right thing. He’s never wanted to kill anybody, he just doesn’t like bullies, those that want to dominate over others. He can’t abide them. And through his unwavering certitude arises conflict between him and Stark. The cracks of this divergence appears first in Age of Ultron and then goes nuclear in Civil War and up to Endgame. You could say that stubbornness and belief in the good in people blindsides Rogers at certain points.
A major dimension of this exploration comes from the variances of the father/child relationship. Stark is the obvious one here, never quite connecting with his distant father, or able to say goodbye to his dad before he died. Thor acts like a petulant child to his father, especially in his early films, but in a way that was more about love and his privileged position than any sense of distance.
Throughout the MCU there are many examples of this dynamic in action, and how it affects the male characters’ paths. Just look at Erik Killmonger in Black Panther, whose father is killed by his uncle, the king of Wakanda. His rage and loss were then weaponised, in a way that amplifies the pain and anger that so many African-Americans have felt for centuries. He is as much a product as he is a cause. T’Challa himself has to confront what his father and his ancestors have done (or mostly not done) over the generations confronting the traditions of his people that have become chains.
Or Peter Quill, whose father, Ego, turns out to be a planet-sized god bent on destroying all life in the universe to remake it in his own image. Not exactly the greatest example to follow. As much of an idiot as Quill is, it’s his unwavering love for his mother — who he constantly references as the greatest, most awesome person in the universe — that snaps him out of his father’s lust for all-consuming power.
It also forms the core of Infinity War’s major narrative of Thanos’ relationship with his adopted daughters Gamora and Nebula that expands at the margins with Endgame. The dynamic is the beating heart of the Ant-Man films, but with Scott Lang and the love he has for his daughter driving everything he does, and the initially fractured but then healed relationship between Hank Pym and his daughter Hope. The importance of family shines through — an extension of this evolution of masculinity and the father/child dynamic.
As Endgame breathlessly unfolds over three plus hours it becomes a reckoning for our heroes. For the film is a response to failure. Complete failure. A rebuttal of Rogers’ mantra that ‘we don’t trade lives’. But in the face of an existential threat as cosmic as Thanos and the stones, Rogers’ stubbornness becomes a flaw. Both Stark and Thor are broken — the time jump healing Stark’s through having a family, but casting Thor into a pit of despair. Clint ‘Hawkeye’ Barton has turned into Ronin and is taking out criminals across the world in response to the loss of his family. Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) is barely keeping it together as the only family she knew is all but gone. Oddly enough, the only one who’s doing okay is Bruce Banner. Embracing the infinite rage that was the Hulk and turning into Smart/Hulk. He represents that rare thing in the MCU — a man at peace with who (or what) he is, and what’s he done.
The final, earth-shattering confrontation with all the Avengers and the resurrected heroes against Thanos’ entire force brings to conclusion the arc of the original Avengers. The final hour is filled with so many thrilling moments that exemplify the power and authenticity of these characters that were seeded over a decade ago, never so more than with Tony Stark. From his devastation at losing Parker (and the entire half of the universe) to his emotional, cathartic conversation with his dad when he and Rogers time travel to the 1970’s, it’s all about acceptance and the courage to move on. Digging deep into his patented quips, it becomes crystal clear that they have morphed into more of a defense mechanism than a dismissal of the stakes involved. Just look at the moment when a non-dusted Peter Parker swings in to help him, excitedly chatting about everything that happened and instead of a smart remark , Stark gives him the much desired hug the kid always wanted.
Moments like these cascade throughout the final hour. Rogers seizing Mjolnir and Thor’s ecstatic joy at that reveal is truly worthy. Hawkeye’s ‘on the ground’ plays and redemption with something to fight for once more. Dr. Strange’s sneaky quarterbacking of the entire saga coming to fruition. Even Quill has a sweet reunion before getting kicked in the balls. Oddly enough Banner/Hulk is mostly MIA for the entire battle after barely surviving using the Iron Gauntlet to snap everything they lost back into existence. But more than anything, there’s an appreciation, not an expectation, that now shades all of their actions, and it’s a beautiful unveiling.
Before Thanos can snap again, to destroy the entire universe this time, Stark manages to wrest the stones from him, and he makes the sacrifice play, snapping Thanos and his forces out of existence. He lays down on the grenade so that others can live. His final words ‘and I am Iron Man’, drawn out and strained as his body crumples against the energy from the Iron Gauntlet, distill his entire arc, the entire saga, and provide a monumental and emotionally resonant conclusion.
Stark’s death is the end point, the fulfilling of what this gigantic story has been promising. He got his second chance, and he was able to save the universe. And when that final scene plays out with Rogers and Peggy in 1945 dancing to ‘It’s Been A Long, Long Time’, it all has come full circle in the most satisfying of ways that one can’t help but smile wistfully as the credits roll.
The ending provides a beginning and an expansion. A diverse cast of heroes has swollen the ranks of the MCU and it is very welcome. At the forefront is Carol Danvers — Captain Marvel — who one could argue draws threads of exuberance and presence of Thor, the stoicism, leadership and moral certitude of Captain America, and the quippy, effortless confidence of Tony Stark, all the while developing into a type of hero that shines with her own individualism. And she’s not alone, nor are we.
If she’s become the leader of the new Avengers, then Peter Parker has become the beating heart of the universe, with T’Challa the Black Panther the unwavering foundations of it. But even more exciting is the possibility of the MCU free of the rigors of inserting a gigantic saga into each of its films. The world has somehow, impossibly opened up even more.
The Infinity Saga highlights the flaws and virtues of being a man in a surprisingly illuminating and moving way. It encouragingly shows their willingness to change and either move past those flaws or embrace them to better understand who they are and those they care about. Vulnerability can be heroic. Steve Rogers and Tony Stark’s (but not Thor Lebowski’s) stories have drawn to a close but their legacies will live on in a universe they helped build and save.
Avengers: Endgame is out now, everywhere (including the disco lounge, Barry’s place, and the moon)
