Issue #10: Sandy's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

About a year and a half before Guardians of the Galaxy, my mother died. I think it was the most life-altering moment in my life. 
 
You see, my mom had cancer, and although it was blessedly quick, it was an awful, painful, and emotional end. As an only child, I grew up in a pretty happy, carefree, and loving framework. We didn’t have much money, and I lived in a small town, but boy—did I ever have a great childhood, most of which revolved around my family. My mom was central in my life as a stay-at-home mother who did everything. She taught me to read, to write in cursive, to cook, and to be a thinker. We did most everything together, the three of us, and I consider, even now, my mother to be the best friend I ever had. I’m sure you already see where I’m going.
 
So when she left us, I was a bit lost. It was up to me to pull everything together—from the funeral to taking care of the house to making sure my dad knew how to do laundry (that took a while). In short, I didn’t get to grieve much because I lived five hours away and had to make sure my work and house were taken care of while simultaneously helping a man who lost his wife of almost 47 years learn how to manage on his own. 
 
When this film came out, needless to say, I was just barely hanging on. So this film was not on my radar.
 
When it came out on DVD, my friend Courtney brought it over for a movie day. I’ll never forget the moment: Pulling it out of her bag, she gave me a look and said, “If you can make it through the first ten minutes, I think you would love this film.”
 
I did.
 
Not only is this film a happy joy of a movie with great characters (who knew?) and zippy one-liners, I really connected with Peter’s struggle to move on and enjoy life while grappling with the loss of the key person in his life. I get it.
 
In addition, what also resonated with me, besides the obvious connection to a kid losing his mother to cancer, was the idea of how music is like a balm in the film. James Gunn was explicit with the song selections, focusing on how the song connects to the scene’s message or feel. Recently, he released all the unused songs for quarantine listening, stating: “Whatever the case, I never intended on sharing these songs, as I might use them in future movies. But I think the need for all of us to have some joyousness in these difficult times outweighs all that” (https://www.udiscovermusic.com/news/guardians-of-the-galaxy-unreleased-songs-playlist/).
 
In the series, it’s Meredith Quill’s music, and it’s her gift to Peter that crafts the soundtrack. The music is not only connected to her memories—but also his memories of her. The songs, so happy or bubbly or emotional, are what ties Peter to his memories of her and the bubble that he has of his time on Earth as a kid. 
 
In an article on BBC.com, a scientist named Cretien van Campen provides insight into this connection between music and memory: “Notably, memories stimulated by music often come from particular times in our lives…Psychologists have called it the ‘reminiscence bump’. It may work this way because this is an especially important and exciting time in our lives, when we are experience things for the first time and when we become independent. Everything is new and meaningful” (https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20140417-why-does-music-evoke-memories).
 
And so it is for Peter. It’s part of why he is stunted in his maturity at the beginning of the film. It’s like his body grew—and his emotions and thoughts are still at his childhood stage when he was snatched from Earth. He keeps listening to the same songs, over and over, and they bring him comfort—and connection with his mother.
 
Maybe that’s why I enjoy this film upon re-watch so much. I find myself thinking about my mom, about how far I’ve come now with healing the hole in my heart. For my family, movies were a major bonding time—from Charles Bronson to Chuck Norris to Clint Eastwood to endless horror movies, we watched them all. My mom made movies special, much like how Meredith makes music special for Peter. I can watch Jaws and be immediately brought back to watching with my mom—and saying all the lines along with her as we made pie in the kitchen. Pop culture brings us joy—and just like “Escape” or “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” in Guardians of the Galaxy—it bridges time to help us heal, soothe, feel inspired, or laugh. Or, in the case of this film, it helps me remember my own mother fondly and with a smile. 
 
Maybe that’s why I’m writing this blog right now. I “fooled around and fell in love” with movies as a child. Music, movies, memories, and mothers are a powerful combination. 
 
Maybe next I’ll listen to the soundtrack again—or pull out my Blu-Ray of Footloose. I watched that with my mom, too!

Issue #10: Alex's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

This was the first film I saw at the AMC Theater in the Monmouth Mall. At its surface, that is a rather innocuous distinction, but it is also the beginning of my career as a professor at Monmouth University. Guardians of the Galaxy is largely lauded for its humor, soundtrack, and gang of misfits mentality. However, whenever I think of this film, I think of Rocket Raccoon and Drax sitting together at the end. After another outrageous Marvel Cinematic Universe CG-Fest conclusion resulting in the demise of the adult Groot, Drax gently pets Rocket’s head. For some reason, that few seconds of screen time is profound for me.
 
It is interesting when the non-human characters provide the most human feelings, and maybe that is for a reason. Star Lord (Chris Pratt) serves as the garish, arrogant, and charismatic leader of the Guardians, but his bombastic nature, while humorous, is difficult to resolve in my mind. We get a decent amount of information on Star Lord’s background in the film as well, and his life is wrought with tragedy and loneliness. The opening scene of the film is heart-wrenching, and my colleague Sandy does a thoughtful and beautiful reflection on that scene. Rocket and Drax are more mysterious, though.
 
Throughout the film, there are not a lot of specifics about Rocket and Drax’s backgrounds. Drax is looking to avenge the death of his family at the hands of Ronan (Lee Pace), and recognizing that obsession leads Drax to accept and embrace that he has a new family in the form of the Guardians. Rocket, on the other hand, is very mysterious. From what I gathered in the film, the only backstory we get is that Rocket was the result of a genetic experiment gone wrong. Suppressing the horror of that experience seems to be what drives Rocket throughout the film because he has one mental breakdown where he shares, “I didn’t ask to get made! I didn’t ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over again and turned into some little monster!” Every other scene, aside from the aforementioned scene with Drax at the end, Rocket Raccoon is a cruel, brutal, and darkly humorous character.
 
This all makes the scene between Drax and Rocket profound. It is unclear how much each knows about the other, but I assume they do not know much. While Rocket holds the remains of his best friend Groot, Drax gently pets Rocket’s head. No dialogue is needed, and the silent language spoken between the two is understood. Both characters are broken and have extreme flaws, but they silently understand each other. The concept of loss is universal, and both Drax and Rocket understand it completely.

Issue #10: Gian's Reflections on Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

Do you remember when we were happy? Before COVID and the election and all the job cuts? We used to just be happy.
What happened to us? I was having a hard time writing about Guardians of the Galaxy (directed by James Gunn), and then I finally realized why. It’s such a happy movie it almost feels wrong watching it in our pandemic-ridden time. 
 
We’ve been robbed of some of our joy and happiness. And blaming someone won’t do any good. That doesn’t bring the happiness back. The blame game never does. No, our pre-virus life has been taken from us and although we’ve learned how to live with it, as best we can, we still feel the loss.
 
It’s like that excitement you used to feel as a kid. Do you remember that? The way the smallest thing could get you really excited: A new toy, a piece of candy, even, well, just the idea of going to the movies. I can remember that excitement. I hope you can too. But, here’s the thing, I can’t feel it. Not the way I did as a kid. That pure joy of childhood excitement leaves us as we grow up and learn to find other kinds of excitement.
 
And I think, really, that’s what makes Guardians such a great movie. When Star-Lord, a.k.a. Peter Quill, a.k.a. the fabulous Chris Pratt, comes dancing along in the opening scene of Guardians you realize you are seeing the pure joy of an adult acting like a child. Quill dances around to “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone on a dark alien world like he’s having the time of his life. He’s a big kid, and channeling Tom Hanks and Adam Sandler before him, he captures that sense of childhood fun and innocence just perfectly.

In fact, he goes those actors one better by adding in just the right touch of sadness that makes the childish fun bittersweet. After all, Quill is dancing to a cassette tape that his dying mother gave to him. Pratt knows exactly how to make us love his big kid role, something he had already played to perfection on Parks and Rec as Andy Dwyer: Be foolish and the butt of the joke and silly, but know what to say at the right moment to make the girl fall for you.
 
And, in this case, that girl is Gamora (played to devasting perfection by Zoe Saldana), who comes in kicking Quill’s butt as a green whirlwind. Gamora is no timid love interest. She doesn’t need Quill or anybody else. Until she gets caught with the rest of the Guardians and sent to the interstellar prison Kyln.
 
And that is where the best scene in Guardians comes. Gamora is the “adopted” (because she was kidnapped) daughter of Thanos. Since Thanos has killed thousands of people on countless worlds, the other prisoners on Kyln want to make Gamora pay for Thanos’ atrocities. When she walks ahead of an angry mob to her cell, one prisoner shouts, “No cell is going to protect you for long.” Gamora ignores them all, strides into her cell, and seats herself down primly. She looks steely and clam, ignoring the threats. But a moment later a prisoner with bared teeth bangs on the glass of her cell and shouts, “You’re dead,” and we hear Gamora gasp and then watch as she lets out one small, shaky breath.
 
It’s a small scene, just a moment, but in that scene we feel all of Gamora’s fear. She is alone, hated, and in danger of being killed. And so Gamora is afraid. She’s afraid of dying. And so are we.
 
Now, my friend Alex will tell you, nobody ever dies in comics. And he’s right. But that doesn’t matter. It’s not Gamora who’s going to die. It’s us. We don’t think about it most of the time. But we know it.
 
I do want to acknowledge that many people suffer with depression and anxiety or just feel more keenly the weight of mortality than others of us. But we all know that the end is coming sooner or later. Mostly, we keep hoping it will be later.
 
And that’s where the virus comes in. We used to feel safe. We could go anywhere we wanted, shake hands, hug a friend, even put our arms around a stranger’s shoulders and sway together to the music of a concert. Now if someone in a store coughs, do you hold your breath? Do you shrink back if a stranger comes too close to you? Or, even if you think that the virus is just a political gambit and will be gone by November, do you still have that little sense of doubt in the back of your mind? Do you worry if you’re the one who coughs?
 
Superheroes don’t die. But we can. And so, when we see Gamora afraid, we know we are not alone. We don’t have super strength or ninja-like fighting powers. But we can have courage. And you only can feel courage when you are afraid. That’s what courage is, moving past the fear. Thor and Captain America are so powerful they don’t ever seem to be afraid. Cap can jump out of a plane without a parachute.
 
But not Gamora. She can be killed, and so she knows fear. Just like us. Still,  Gamora charges into battle anyway. And we can be brave too. We might not have to fight with our hands, but over our lifetimes we will be called on to fight injustice and racism and sheer cruelty. We know we don’t have forever, and that means we have to do what we can to make this world a better place while we’re here.

And if you read my friend Sandy' blog post about Guardians of the Galaxy too, you'll find that she wrote about her mother's passing which is connected to this film for her. I bet her mom was pretty brave, too, because she taught her daughter to be brave enough to share that important story with us. So I hope you will be brave, too, when you need to be.