Issue #16: Alex's Reflections on Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

    While my parents and my childhood toys may say otherwise, I was never the biggest fan of Spider-Man growing up. Batman, Superman, and Luke Skywalker (among others) were some of favorites, and as I have become older, I have reflected on why Spider-Man was not one of my favorites. It has to do with the anxiety the character embodies. Whenever I watch Spider-Man, I feel the strain of his life coming into my mind too often. Unlike Batman, where his focus is unshakable, Spider-Man is always distracted by life. If he is not worrying about Aunt May, he is worrying about his physics final. If he is not late to a party because he is chasing Green Goblin across Manhattan, he is awkwardly talking to Mary Jane. It is just teen angst at level red all the time, and I just cannot get into it.

       When Gian and I wrote our book Enter the Superheroes, we did a lot of research on Stan Lee and his process for coming up with the characters. I remember reading that Stan wanted a superhero a kid could relate to under the mask, so he went younger. As a point of reference, Spider-Man debuted right after the Fantastic Four which had mostly adult characters. Homecoming has its foot planted right on the line of a superhero film and a teen angst superhero film, and I am admittedly having trouble navigating my feelings on the movie. Using a decidedly scientific term, the film is “alright.” His suit is excellent, his banter while fighting is on-point, and the action sequences are smooth. However, the film gets bogged down in all of the “growing up” narrative. Sandy will chide me for saying it like that, but it is how I feel. There have been so many incarnations of Spider-Man, and they are almost entirely centered about him growing up. Where is the adult Spider-Man? Where is the Spider-Man who is a badass and is confident? The version of Peter Parker in Into the Spider-Verse (2018), where he is a depressed drunkard, is not what I am looking for. Homecoming, while a good film, just continues the tired narrative of Spider-Man being the awkward kid who has to get his homework done while fighting evil. The film being called “Homecoming” should have alerted me that is was going to be a quasi-traditional Spider-Man film, but I guess I wanted something more than, “If Aunt May finds out, she’ll kill me!”

Issue #16: Sandy's Reflections on Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Let me start by admitting that this movie is better than I originally thought. Honestly, I was so upset by the “MJ” reveal (I was not crazy about this version of Mary Jane) that I didn’t revisit the film at all after the initial premiere night. Even when we were getting together to watch this movie, I had Alex remind me to order it from Netflix DVD because it is one of the only Marvel films that I don’t own a copy of. 
 
Side note: I know what you’re thinking, dear reader, because if you’re at the sixteenth blog entry, you already know how I feel about Pepper Potts. And you’re mumbling to yourself, “But, Sandy, Pepper returns with an amazing cameo!” Yes, I know. And while volunteering at Pocono Cinema, I would sneak in to watch that scene each week while the film played. Ha. However, I had no desire to watch the actual film again. 
 
And I take it back.
 
One of my very favorite classes to teach is titled Writing About Young Adult Literature. I’ve structured the course around how to analyze an effective choice for a reading designed for the YA audience, allowing future teachers to learn how to deconstruct what makes a meaningful text and how to select beyond “I really like it” to books and stories that would hone in on middle school and high school students’ coming-of-age issues and offer samples of how to deal with the pains of growing up and becoming an adult. 
 
One of the first texts that I use to frame the course is Herz and Gallo’s From Hinton to Hamlet: Building Bridges Between Young Adult Literature and the Classics. (It’s available on Amazon, if you’re interested.) Within the text, the authors present numerous strategies for thinking about what makes a text work for teens. Most importantly, they present four characteristics that separate a YA story from all others:
 

• the main character is a teenager who is the center of the plot
• the protagonist’s actions and decisions are major factors in the plot’s outcome
• the events/problems are related to teens and the dialogue reflects their speech
• the point of view is that of an adolescent and reflects an adolescent’s interpretation of events and people (pp. 8-9)

If we look at Homecoming through the lens of these characteristics, we can see it is a tight, meaningful story designed for a teen audience. 

First, of course, we know Peter is the main character. The film opens with his exuberant video of his experience in Captain America: Civil War. By filming on his cellphone, it is definitely teen behavior, but more importantly, this format reveals his perception of the events. He is eager, open, and so, so, so excited to work with Tony. He idolizes Tony Stark, and he has so much energy that it’s only when we see him in a frame without all the other Avengers—just Tony and Peter and Happy—that we can really feel how young he is. He thinks he wants to be a grown up, and that’s the thread of the storyline here: He wants to be a grown up, but to do so, he has to give up being a kid. And, in the beginning—even the middle—of the movie, I think he doesn’t really know all that that choice would mean.
 
Second, his actions and decisions are the major elements of the plot. He tries to be a “neighborhood” hero, and he does pretty good at it, all on his own. But when he makes the decision to stop the Vulture and his crew, he is in over his head. And it isn’t rosy. The Staten Island Ferry scene—where he is trying his best to hold together the boat on his own—shows that he’s trying, metaphorically, to hold together the two halves of his life: being a teen and being a hero, and he is not doing either very well. 
 
Third, the next criteria is that the problems are related to teens. What could be more of the quintessential teen experience other than a homecoming dance? Or asking out the girl you like? Or trying to fit in at school? The thread of Peter’s crush on Liz, and the montage of him asking Aunt May for help learning how to dance and put on a tie is not only emotional but specifically designed to show that Peter’s issues are universal to the teen experience. Even the idea of meeting your date’s father—and getting “the talk” in the car—is a rite of teen passage.
 
Last, the final characteristic of a YA text is that the point of view is from a teen. I already mentioned the opening video—it’s adorable and shows how Peter is young and innocent and filled with excitement for life. But the best scene that illustrates Peter’s teen perspective is when he is sitting on the top of a building, perched on the edge to see the world below, eating a sandwich and telling Happy about his day. His perception of helping people, leaving a note about a bike, is adorable and sweet. He believes in the good, and it shows.
 
So how do I wrap up this entry? What have I learned? I still am not crazy about Mary Jane. Ha!
 
But the movie was far better than I gave it credit for, and by analyzing it critically, I can conclude that it fits all the criteria of what makes a useful, meaningful text for teens. It shows Peter struggling—he wants to be grown up, and he wants to be an Avenger, but as a result of the events of the film, he realizes that he also still is, truly, young. Instead of taking Tony up on his offer of a new suit, Peter declines becoming a member of the Avengers, knowing his time will come to be an adult in the future. However, for now, Peter will pause, allowing himself to enjoy a few more moments of being a teenager with young adult worries, rather than the worries of the world. As he walks away from Tony, Peter smiles. And so do we.
 
Maybe that’s what I missed the first time. I was so busy being mad at painting Mary Jane as a sarcastic, rebellious loner—that I missed that this version wasn’t designed for me. It was designed for the teenagers, like Peter, who could relate.
 
I’m buying a copy of the film, I guess. I think I might even use it in class!

Issue #16: Gian's Reflections on Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Spider-Man to Iron Man: “Mr. Stark, what do you want me to do?”

Iron Man: “I think you’ve done enough.”

 

In Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017, directed by Jon Watts) Spider-Man asks this question as a New York ferry is in danger of sinking. He has been fighting with the Vulture (played with unnerving menace by Michael Keaton), but the Vulture used a ray to slice the ferry in half, forcing Spider-Man to try to save the boat while the Vulture escaped. When Spider-Man’s efforts fail, Iron Man arrives to save the day, using his repulsor rays to fuse the ferry’s hull back together.

 

But Peter’s question isn’t only about the peril to the ferry, it’s really an open question to the man he sees as a father: Tony Stark. What do you want me to do? Who do you want me to be? How can I be like you? 

 

Tony doesn’t want to have to answer those questions. Peter needs a father, but Tony Stark (in the role Robert Downey, Jr. was born for) does not want to to be that father. He doesn’t want Peter fighting supervillains. He doesn’t want Peter being an Avenger. He doesn’t want Peter in dangerous battles. He wants Peter to stay safe: “Can’t you just be a friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man?”

 

The answer is, no Peter can’t. With great power comes great responsibility. Peter (played by Tom Holland as if he really was Spider-Man) has amazing gifts, and he will have to learn to use them. And like all children, he will make mistakes. He has to try. He has to learn. He has to grow.

 

What Tony resists is the fact that we, adults, have to grow too. Tony wants to stay who he was, billionaire playboy Tony Stark. When we first met Tony in Iron Man, he was bragging about the Playboy models with whom he had slept. He was rich and drove sports cars and could do whatever he wanted. Except Tony had great gifts, too, a knowledge of technology that made him one of the most brilliant minds on the planet. With great power comes great responsibility. Tony built the Iron Man suit to save himself as he was dying from a shrapnel wound, but he didn’t know that building the suit would also change his life forever.

 

As Iron Man, he recruited Spider-Man when Captain America (played by the hero himself Chris Evans) went rogue. Tony was used to using people, and he recruited Spidey because he needed Spidey’s powers. But Peter needed Tony too. Peter needed someone to teach him how to use those powers. Peter needed a mentor and a father. Tony wanted to just use Peter and then send Peter back to his neighborhood. But what Tony didn’t realize was that once a child enters our life, they change us forever.

 

The job of being a parent is impossible. Children look up to their parents. They want them to be perfect, to know how to do everything, and to have all the answers. That’s what children look to their parents for, perfection. But of course, none of us are perfect. We make mistakes, we don’t know everything, and we fail all the time. What children need is not for their parents to be perfect, but for them to be heroic. Heroes make mistakes, they try things that don’t work, and they get knocked down. But then they get back up again. Children don’t need to see their parents never fail, but they do need to see their parents never give up. Keep trying, give it your best, and don’t be afraid to start over.

 

At the end of Spider-Man, Peter is trapped under tons of rubble. The Vulture has tricked him, causing a building to fall on top of him. Peter can’t move. He is running out of time, close to death. Peter cries out, but there is no one there to help him. He has failed again. Then he remembers Tony’s words to him, “If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.” When Tony said that, he was taking away the high-tech Spider-suit he had built for Peter because he felt Peter was too immature to use it responsibly. So, Peter had ended up going after the Vulture in his old handmade Spider-Man costume. But trapped under the rubble, Peter remembered Tony’s words and understood their true meaning. It’s not powers that make a person a hero; what makes a person a hero is never giving up no matter the odds. Peter reaches inside and finds the strength of will to push through crushing tons of rubble in order to free himself. Then he defeats the Vulture and also saves the Vulture from death when he could have let the Vulture be blown up.

 

Peter still has much growing up to do. Tony does too. But they both take big steps forward here. Tony helps Peter to find his inner power, the strength of will that lets him succeed no matter the odds. And Peter helps Tony begin to understand the secret of being a great parent: Children try to be their parents, and once parents understand this, it helps the parent to become a better person than they really are. Tony knows what a flawed person he is, and so he doesn’t want to be pushed into the role of father to Peter because of all those flaws. But a person can be flawed and still be a great parent as long as they keep trying to be better than they are. When a child sees a parent fail but keep trying, the parent is teaching the child that we can all find the hero inside of us, we just have to never give up trying.

Issue #15: Sandy's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)

I have many memories of watching this film at my local cinema where I sometimes volunteer. I would have it timed right to sneak in to watch the Baby Groot-Opening Credits dance sequence several times each week. I mean, it's Baby Groot. Dancing.

All kidding aside, I enjoyed this film immensely, and I looked forward to watching it again for our blog. It just turned out that, with Gian's library board meetings, my grading piles, and our conflicting schedules, we had a few weeks where we couldn't meet--placing this movie on the day-after-elections. We watched the film after a long day of result-watching, and not knowing the outcome, we decided to still go ahead and do our scheduled movie watching.

This film really was a balm on the day. It's the perfect film to watch at this point. There are rainbow-colored bubbles, comedic exchanges, amazing music montages, an adorable almost-love story between the heroes, and, of course, Baby Groot. 

The main theme of the story is family. "There has to be more out there, than just me, I thought," Ego explains as he woos Peter. The first act of the film showcased how the GOTG often got on each others' nerves, their quirks on full display, a stark contrast to the fairy tale that Ego presents as he offers Peter the fantasy family that the thought he was always searching for.

As we thought of the election, as we watched the film, the United States was deeply divided. In a way, any election is like the theme of this film. We have to sort through the fantasies to see what we have and what we want. Each member of the team, just like us, has to decide whether to leave their found family or to embrace them, help them, despite their quirks and flaws. 

I find hope in this film, and I think the comedic elements are super funny--and the heartfelt, dramatic moments work to give us a deeper glimpse into beloved characters. I can only hope that we as a nation can learn the lesson of family as one that you make yourself. When Peter eulogizes Yondu, he allows himself to see the good in his life with Yondu. He makes the choice to appreciate the family that he built.  We have a choice with where we want to go after this election, and I hope we can band together to get there, just like the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Issue #15: Alex's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)

Before writing this review, I looked at the Rotten Tomatoes score for this film: 85% for critics and 87% for audience. This has been done by my movie watching colleagues and me a few times during our trek through the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, I had to know what other people thought. To be blunt, I think this is the worst Marvel Cinematic Universe film. It is worse than Thor: The Dark World and worse than Iron Man 3. This film is tricky because the opening sequence with Baby Groot dancing to Electric Light Orchestra is fantastic, and all of the joy in that scene almost convinced me to adjust my mind. However, the rest of this film is, as my friend Trevor and I like to say when we do really involved and complicated analyses of various entertainment, a dumpster fire.

The plot, where Peter Quill’s father is revealed to be a “celestial” (a god in Marvel verbiage) named Ego (Kurt Russell), is found wanting. It is difficult to dish out criticism of a film where one of the key themes are family and the coming to terms with emotions, but just because the themes are powerful does not mean it is not an eye rolling roller coaster of overindulgent special effects, a cliché soundtrack, and a ridiculous climactic action sequence.

My identity crisis with this film is really a byproduct of something I have discussed with my moviegoing colleague Gian. Maybe it is my age or maybe it is my self-imposed overexposure to superhero and action films through the years, but I just don’t care. Much of the magic I have felt with these films has dissipated over time, and in trying to be analytical about this, I cannot pinpoint the reason. While watching the movie, I couldn’t help myself from saying things aloud: “How is he still alive?” “This planet has been blowing up for 45 minutes.” “She just dropped out of a spaceship from over 300 feet, landed on her knees, and wasn’t hurt.” Like the proverbial old man yelling at those darn kids to get out of his yard, I couldn’t help myself.

The unfortunate part of this whole reflection is that I am not old. And since that is the case, why was I so annoyed with this film? I think I am jaded by many aspects of the Guardians Vol. 2 including the special effects, the incessant hammer-like reminder of the themes throughout film, and the classic rock FM soundtrack that makes me think of guys playing loud music on a boom box at a construction site.

Yes, Baby Groot is cute. Yes, Rocket Raccoon is funny. But this film was a movie that was made to be made: it exists because it exists. Like Ant-Man, if you skip this film, you will not have missed anything in the totality of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Issue #15: Gian's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)

One of the best things about Marvel is that they can take characters you think you don’t like at all and turn them into characters you absolutely love. While I felt Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 (2017) had a lot of weaknesses, the film directed by James Gunn gets one big thing right: Yondu (played to perfection by Michael Rooker).
 
In the original comics, Yondu had a super bright costume and what looked like a rooster-plume on his head. In fact, the whole team looked kind of silly when they first appeared in Marvel Super-Heroes #18.

Having read a number of those early stories, I have to say I was pretty shocked when I heard they were making the Guardians part of the MCU. I certainly didn’t expect they could translate Yondu into a great character on screen. Luckily, they gave Yondu a respectable Mohawk which lets him control an incredibly deadly flying arrow. and even more respectable personality.

 
While Yondu comes across as menacing, we slowly learn that he has become an outcast from the Ravagers. This is one of the cores of the MCU. Many of its characters are lost souls. Captain America is a man out of time. The Winter Solider has been brainwashed. Black Panther watches his father get killed before his eyes. Gamora’s people are slaughtered by Thanos. For all their power, the heroes of the MCU struggle with incredible loss, loss that might overwhelm anyone.
 
Yondu has become an outcast because he refused to deliver Peter Quill (again played to comedic perfection by Chris Pratt) to the god-like Ego (played larger than life by Kurt Russell). Yondu had had actually delivered a number of Ego's other offspring to Ego, but when he learned that Ego subsequently killed those children, Yondu refused to give over Peter. Instead he hid Peter away and, for failing to honor his contract with Ego, the Ravagers exiled Yondu from their group. Yondu does what the best fathers always do if they must, sacrifice they own good for their children.

But Yondu lies to Peter about why he kept Peter. He tells Peter he kept him because he was small and skinny and could sneak into places to steal things. Yondu poses as loner and an outlaw. He acts like he only loves himself, and we can't be sure what Yondu thinks beyond what he has told Peter. And Peter accepts this coldness from Yondu as real. Perhaps Yondu never planned to be a father, so he didn't want to take credit for that fatherly act of saving Peter. There's a long, sad tradition of fathers and sons not being able to communicated and express their love for each other, and Yondu and Peter certainly fall into this trap.

In Peter's case, this leaves him searching for a father figure. As we know from the original Guardians of the Galaxy film, Peter lost his mother as a child. He never learned who his real father was, so he has spent much of his life searching for that father. In Guardians 2, Peter learns that Ego is his biological father and the source of Peter's own powers. Peter is quickly seduced by Ego's power, despite Gamora (played superbly as always by Zoe Saldana) try to warn him that Ego is not who he seems to be. Of course, Gamora is right and Ego actually plans to destroy the universe and remake it in Ego's own image.

But as the movie rolls along, we also learn that there is more to Yondu than meets the eye. In a particularly important exchange between Yondu and Rocket (voiced by wonderfully by Bradley Cooper):

Yondu : You can fool yourself and everyone else, but you can't fool me. I know who you are.

Rocket : You don't know anything about me, loser.

Yondu : I know everything about you. I know you play like you're the meanest and the hardest but actually you're the most scared of all.

Rocket : Shut up!

Yondu : I know you steal batteries you don't need and you push away anyone who's willing to put up with you 'cause just a little bit of love reminds you of how big and empty that hole inside you actually is.

Rocket : I said shut up!

Yondu : I know them scientists what made you, never gave a rat's ass about you!

Rocket : I'm serious, dude!

Yondu : Just like my own damn parents who sold me, their own little baby, into slavery. I know who you are, boy. Because you're me!

Rocket : ...What kind of a pair are we?

Yondu : The kind that's about to go fight a planet, I reckon.

Rocket : All right, okay! Good, that's... Wait. Fight a what?

In the final climactic battle of the film, Peter plans to stay behind to blow up the world which is Ego, an action which would result in Peter's death too. Rather than let Peter die, Yondu saves Peter and sacrifices himself to destroy Ego. It's an old storyline that we all know: Two characters are faced with self-sacrifice in order to save the universe and only one of the two characters can survive. So they nobly fight over the right to sacrifice themselves to save their friend.

We certainly can't miss that message about fatherhood. Yondu is Peter's real father, not Ego, and heart matters more than blood. Gunn makes sure we get the point of the film. But I think he actually delivers a more interesting message about fatherhood in that earlier exchange between Yondu and Rocket. Fathers need to be devoted to their children, not only blood relations but those raise as our own. But, beyond that, fathers also have a role to help other "children" if you will. In a way, Rocket is a lost child too. Perhaps the most orphaned child in all the MCU. Yondu, in the role of a father, offers Rocket a moment of understanding. He hears not what Rocket says but what the message underneath the surly statements Rocket makes. That's what the best fathers do: They listen, hear, understand, and offer a little advice. As a father myself, that's the message I'll try to remember.

Issue #14: Sandy's Reflections on Doctor Strange (2016)

I have to say…I liked this film much more this time around. It helps to have built up my knowledge of Doctor Strange’s character, and I did really like his arc for Infinity War/Endgame. If I had to say what I thought was missing in the film, it was that I wanted more Rachel McAdams, and I admit this, too: I like a love story and a couple to root for.
 
In many of the reviews, most critics felt like I did: we like Rachel McAdams, but there wasn’t much for her to do in Doctor Strange.  Take this very pointed analysis from Vulture:
 
It’s hard to figure out what Rachel McAdams’s standout scene in Doctor Strange is. Maybe it’s the one where she offers Benedict Cumberbatch emotional support while he performs a surgery. Possibly it’s the one where she performs surgery on Benedict Cumberbatch and offers him emotional support. My personal favorite, though, is the one where she brings Benedict Cumberbatch some fancy wine and cheese while she offers him emotional support, all of which he refuses to accept. McAdams, a recent Oscar nominee, is technically playing Doctor Christine Palmer in the film, but her actual role is to be the latest in a long line of Underutilized Marvel Love Interests, or UMLIs (https://www.vulture.com/2016/11/rachel-mcadams-doctor-strange-marvel-love-interest.html).
 
So, while I enjoyed seeing her in the film, my hopes for a juicy leading-lady or kick-ass role was dashed at my first viewing. Who doesn’t love Rachel McAdams.
 
However, this time around, I noticed something else: this film is a very good love story. Let me explain, as I’m not going where you think I am. Ha.
 
When we meet Stephen Strange, he is at the top of his game as a surgeon. He’s charming, a little bit sexy, and a lot overbearing. He’s obsessed with his own abilities and puts down others who don’t match his prowess in the operating room. We get a glimpse from Christine’s gift to him, the watch that is engraved with “Time will tell how much I love you—Christine.” Yet we are a little bit perplexed by the fact that she loved (or loves) him. We can tell they are an on-again/off-again couple who are currently in an “off” stage, but he can’t be grateful to her for her care during his recovery from the car accident—and his cutting words to her are downright cruel. Later, he asks why she never returned his emails…and we in the audience were left saying to ourselves, “Why, honestly, would she?”
 
But all of this back-and-forth is a bait and switch, really. Because she isn’t really the person that he needs to learn how to love—though his apology to her is lovely.
 
His journey forces him to confront the ugly parts of himself, to learn how to be humble, to truly see himself as he is: a vain, heartless, and ego-centric man. And he is all but broken by the middle of the film. Yet, it is only now that he can truly grow.
 
The film is sneaky in that it starts off with the formulaic plot that sets up a gorgeous former lover and the hope that by the end, they reunite and fall back in love. But that wasn’t the point of the film. The real love story is the one where Stephen Strange has to learn how to love himself.
 
Only then is he worthy of his new-found abilities. Only then can he grow and become a better man.
 
I read that Rachel McAdams’s Christine might not be in Doctor Strange 2, but I can wait. Let’s let him grow a bit more, and maybe we’ll see her again. When he’s ready.
 
And now that I’ve written this entry, I can honestly say that I like the film even more—and I look forward to more Doctor Strange in the future.

Issue #14: Alex's Reflections on Doctor Strange (2016)

This was the Marvel Cinematic Universe film I was the most excited about seeing once again. When I first saw it in the theaters in 2016, it was an underwhelming experience, but I truly wanted to like it. The MC Escher style cinematography coupled with Benedict Cumberbatch being the Sorcerer Supreme was genuinely appealing. In short, I wanted to love this film, and I went into with a preconceived level of admiration that could never conceivably be met.

My second viewing helped me come to a realization that I had not considered beforehand: Doctor Strange, throughout the course of the film, becomes the most self-actualized superhero in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The tragedy of his origin story is a deconstruction of hubris that may be one of the most compelling in literary history. One of the running jokes among us is that I do not like origin movies, and I stand by that. I hold this opinion because I have read a lot of the comics these stories are based on and am familiar with a lot of the origin stories. Movie studios seem to have caught on to the fact that the general public is familiar with origin stories as evidenced by recent movies such as Spider-Man: Homecoming and Batman V Superman skipping the origins of Spider-Man and Batman respectively. However, it is important to note that characters such as Spider-Man and Batman, who are cultural touchstones at this point, need no introduction. Doctor Strange, an obscure 1960s Stan Lee and Steve Ditko creation, does.

 
The peace that Stephen Strange finds upon learning the mystic arts is satisfying. As a world renowned surgeon who is supremely arrogant, Dr. Strange loses a great deal of motor-function in his hands due to a car accident. Not only does Strange lose the delicate use of his hands, he loses his identity and sacrifices all of his wealth to find a cure for his hands. However, in his quest to physically fix his hands, he finds his inner peace through learning about the Mystic Arts.
 
There is a whole plot that revolves around a shadow dimension and Dormamu trying to invade Earth, yada, yada, yada. But the soul of this film, is the transition that Benedict Cumberbatch has from arrogant surgeon to humble sorcerer. Christine Palmer (played by Rachel McAdams) was the only person in the world who saw the good in Stephen Strange from the beginning, and the one belonging Strange has left when he meets The Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) is the watch Christine gave him which has an inscription: “Time will tell how much I love you.”
 
In the end, the story of Doctor Strange is more than cool MC Escher action sequences and trippy kaleidoscope effects. It is the story of finding peace when everything is lost. Of all the superheroes in the MCU thus far, he seemed the happiest and most content at the end.

Issue #14: Gian's Reflections on Doctor Strange (2016)

When I was a kid, I never really liked Dr. Strange. His costume seemed to goofy to me, which is funny considering that I loved superhero costumes which, in the early days with their underwear on the outside, could have all been considered pretty goofy. But to Dr. Strange just didn’t look right. He first appeared in Strange Tales #110, and Stan Lee noted, he was meant to be “a different kind of super-hero”:
 
 

I definitely thought he was different and too “weird” for me to like as a kid. I think, too, that I didn’t care for the gray streaks in Dr. Strang’s hair. (Let’s just say I’m a lot more accepting of gray hair now than I was at age 6!) At any rate, all of this reticence toward Dr. Strange made me a bit skeptical when Marvel decided to introduce the master of the mystic arts to the MCU. But as usual, Marvel knew exactly what it was doing when it released Doctor Strange in 2016 from director Scott Derrickson and staring the fantastic Benedict Cumberbatch.
 
The film goes for lots of laugh as well as some cool special effects. The lightness of Doctor Strange felt needed after the anguish left in viewers watching Captain America and Iron Man battle almost to the death in the previous MCU installment, Captain America: Civil War.
 
What interests me, though, is Marvel’s attempt to weave some religious themes into this film. Prior to Doctor Strange, there has not been any exploration of religion or philosophy in the MCU except, perhaps, for Loki in Avengers telling people to bow down to him like a god, which, of course, one brave man refuses to do.
 
At the beginning of the film, Stephen Strange has it all. As a top-notch surgeon, he has wealth, a beautiful girl friend, and so much ego that his head he can barely enter a room. But after recklessly speeding and crashing his sports car, his nerves are injured too badly to ever perform surgery again. Strange spends his fortune chasing one experimental cure after another, but all of those prove to be dead ends. In the end, broke and having cruelly driven his lover away, he stumbles upon a man whose paralysis was cured by some sort of mysticism. Strange goes to Tibet in search of this dream of a cure.
 
But instead of a cure, Dr. Strange finds religion and magic or, put another way, he finds faith. At first, Strange can’t accept things beyond his understanding of the physical realm. Strange is a doctor, after all, a man of science. He even shouts at the Ancient One (played with cool reserve by Tilda Swinton), “There is no such thing as spirit! We are matter and nothing more!” The Ancient One responds by pushing Strange’s spirit right out of his body, offering him startling proof of the existence of magic.

In “Doctor Strange Is The Most Religious Superhero Movie Ever,” a post for the website Watching God, Paul Asay discusses how Doctor Strange breaks new ground for the MCU:
 

There’s an undeniable aspect of faith to it all, even beyond the obvious occult trappings in which these spells are used. Strange is forced to embrace spiritual paradoxes, to relinquish his idea of control, to set aside the very things that made him so great at his job. “Your intellect has taken you far in life,” the Ancient One says, “but it can take you no farther.” At another juncture, she tells Strange one of the secrets of faith, particularly Christian faith. “It’s not about you.

Stephen Strange thought he had everything: Money, prestige, a beautiful lover, intellect. He was on top of the world, and that made him arrogant, self-righteous, and sometimes cruel. But everything we have can be taken from us in an instant. Strange learns this all too hard lesson, and then he has to learn that when the trappings of the world desert us, we must rely on faith and love to get us through.

 

Strange does not know everything, as the Ancient One shows him. And, eventually, this leads Strange toward humility, understanding, and finally courage. While he gains great mystical power, he also has to come to trust that there are things greater than himself. He must trust in others, for it is not only about him.

 

The other day, in yet another argument with my 17-year-old son, I found myself saying, “I remember when I was seventeen and knew everything, too. How I miss those days.” When I was 17, I didn’t care for that gray hair at Dr. Strange’s temples, but little did I know that I would find myself in the Ancient One’s shoes soon enough.