Recently Viewed: Captain America: Civil War (2016)

[SPOILERS below. You have been warned.]

Loss.

If I had to sum up the central thematic concern driving Marvel’s latest cinematic offering in one word, that would be it: loss. Every one of the film’s major characters loses something important, something precious, and the resulting pain and rage propel the narrative towards its violent, tragic, inevitable conclusion. When Peggy Carter passes away in the first act, Steve Rogers loses one of his few remaining tethers to his past, inspiring him to fight harder to protect his former friend and fellow time traveler, Bucky Barnes. Between his recent breakup with Pepper Potts and an emotionally devastating encounter with a grieving mother, the normally narcissistic Tony Stark loses faith in himself as a hero, causing him to become the most vocal advocate for government oversight. After watching his beloved father perish in the fiery aftermath of a terrorist attack, Prince T’Challa of Wakanda, a.k.a. The Black Panther, embarks on a murderous rampage, joining forces with Iron Man only as a means to enact his bloody vengeance.

And then there’s Helmut Zemo. Played with quiet, subtle precision by Inglourious Basterds’ Daniel Bruhl, Zemo is, hands down, the best villain to appear in one of Marvel’s big screen efforts thus far (Wilson Fisk and Kilgrave from the Netflix shows have him beat, but each also enjoys the benefit of an extra ten-and-a-half hours of character development). He may lack Ronan the Accuser's raw power or The Red Skull’s flair for the dramatic—in fact, aside from some special forces training, he’s more or less just an ordinary guy—but he has patience, resolve, and plenty of hatred, and that’s more than enough. I won’t spoil the exact nature of Zemo’s loss here; suffice it to say, it fills him with so much anger that the only sensible response, from his perspective, is to share it with those he deems responsible and watch as the ensuing suspicion and resentment cause them to tear each other apart.

None of this grandiose conflict would matter much if we didn’t care about our misguided heroes. Fortunately, considering that this is not only the third entry in the Captain America franchise, but also technically the fourth Iron Man (heck, I’d even argue that Civil War could be considered the first official Black Panther), True Believers know these characters intimately enough by now to understand every conceivable point-of-view. Given his history with incompetent and/or corrupt superiors (the glory-seeking senator in First Avenger, Hydra’s infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. in Winter Soldier), it’s no wonder Captain Rogers is skeptical of the measures proposed by the Sokovia Accords. Stark, on the other hand, has been trying to take responsibility for the consequences of his shortsightedness since way back in Iron Man 1, when he shuttered his company's weapons development division after seeing his creations in the hands of terrorists; is it really a surprise, then, that his hand in Ultron’s “birth” would prompt him to finally submit to government regulation?

Ultimately, neither stance is necessarily morally wrong nor completely without flaw, and that sense of ambiguity—the idea that a hero might be one step away from being on the "wrong side,” while still remaining completely unwilling to compromise—makes Civil War one of the most suspenseful, compelling, engaging, insightful, and all-around entertaining works of comic book-based pop art to date. Take your “superhero fatigue” and shove it; make mine Marvel any day.

The Art of Heroic Villainy

[SPOILERS for Man of Steel, Thor: The Dark World, and Captain America: The Winter Soldier below. You've been warned.]

Unlike some Marvel movie fans, I don't feel that Thor: The Dark World (2013) is a bad film, necessarily. It does, however, suffer from one glaring, nearly fatal flaw. To phrase it at least somewhat politely, Malekith is an extremely lackluster villain. His goal: to extinguish all life in the multiverse, because his race existed first... or something. He's a generic Evil Overlord with a generic Evil Plan. He looks cool and intimidating, does some unquestionably nasty things (killing Thor's mom, for one), and is summarily dispatched by the good guys without leaving much of an impression on the viewer. In short, he serves his narrative purpose, nothing more.

Of course, that's all a villain is really obliged to do, but for the sake of comparison, let's briefly examine Michael Shannon's interpretation of General Zod from WB's Man of Steel (also released in 2013).

While the two characters appear to be remarkably similar on a superficial level--each is the leader of a nearly extinct race willing to sacrifice humanity to ensure the survival of his own people--one vital difference distinguishes the mad Kryptonian from the tyrannical Dark Elf: whereas Malekith is a walking plot device, seemingly devoid of any semblance of inner-life, Zod legitimately believes that he is the hero of Man of Steel's story. True, he is willing to commit genocide on a global scale, but only because he wishes to create a new home for his devastated race. In his own words: "I protect Krypton. That is the sole purpose for which I was born. And everything I have done, no matter how violent or cruel, has been for the greater good of my people." Indeed, Zod is so passionate in the pursuit of this "noble" ambition (unlike the cold, emotionless Malekith, who extols his own righteousness with the conviction of a man reading his lines off of cue cards) that his (literally) earth-shattering climactic rampage is motivated by no less than his complete and utter failure as a "hero." With his loyal followers banished once more to the Phantom Zone and the genetic legacy of Krypton reduced to ash at his feet, Zod has been robbed of the only purpose he has ever known, and so resolves to destroy everything that Superman, the person responsible for his torment, holds dear--until, finally, the Big Blue Boy Scout is forced to put the madman out of his misery.

Marvel's own work provides another appropriate example. Captain America: The Winter Soldier's Alexander Pierce, played by an earnest and grandfatherly Robert Redford, is compelling and nuanced in every way that Malekith is not. The de facto leader of the faction of HYDRA zealots that has grown like a cancer within the highest ranks of SHIELD, Pierce honestly believes that his unambiguously evil actions are morally justified. From his twisted point of view, HYDRA is the only force capable of saving mankind from itself; the loss of personal freedom and a few million lives are a small price to pay in the struggle to impose order upon a chaotic world. The sickening double-think involved in Pierce's rationalization of his crimes--and, more importantly, its undeniable similarity to SHIELD's own mission statement and methodology--shapes the film's central thesis and informs much of Cap's evolution as a character.  While any good story should ultimately focus on the protagonist's journey, an adequately developed villain has the potential to deeply enrich the conflict, illuminate new facets of the hero's characterization, and/or clarify the overarching theme. I hope that, moving forward, Marvel will follow the example set by Winter Soldier and leave flat, uninspired creations like Malekith far, far behind.

[For other posts I've written on the subject of villains, click here.]