It would be no stretch of logical reasoning to argue that the principal character in the Guardians of the Galaxy films is intended to be Peter Quill, the every-man from Earth thrust upon the cosmos with a Walkman and a broken heart. The other Guardians are characters whom Quill finds comfort in on his journey, and though equally valid, you’d expectantly hear no end of rebuttal for such an outlandish disagreement of this status quo. The evidence to the contrary is outwardly limited as, after all, the explicit surface of the Guardians of the Galaxy is the unity in thievery, under the heartfelt command of a charming boy struggling to truly escape adolescence. From the perspective of the audience, the films portray a linear arc of Quill’s personal progress, and the struggle of the rest of the cast to work fluidly with one-another to resolve their problems, to become the family they were always meant to be.

But despite the focal framing of the duology, the objective in exploring Star-Lord’s history, and the realization of family that has been formulated since our first introduction to the Guardians, I firmly attest that the overshadowed protagonist of these films, and the one whose journey is most impactful as the curtain closes on Infinity War, is Gamora, Daughter of Thanos.

Volume 1: The Hand

“Everybody’s got dead people! That’s no excuse to get everybody else dead along the way!” ~ Rocket

One of the underlying themes which permeates through the first Guardians of the Galaxy is a dependence on family, and an acceptance of inevitable helplessness. The narrative depicts each major protagonist wrought with fear of companionship and, above all else, failure, and each struggle to overcome this in varying individual ways. In a moment of complete hopelessness, the galaxy’s deadliest woman, Gamora, is left adrift in the luminescent neon of nowhere. Strangely enough, the crux of Gamora’s character development in this moment is defined by the actions of Peter Quill, a thread intertwining the duo. Quill puts himself on the line for Gamora, attempting to save her from the throngs of death among the stars, not just because of his romantic affection for her, but because of his internalized fear.

Quill’s central struggle is the rationalization of his mother’s death, and from the perspective of his distressed mind, he often conflates her death with the emptiness of space, threading the two together. In this moment, as Gamora lies inches from the same fate as Peter’s mother, he casts all else to the wayside in order to save her, because as is outwardly proven throughout the entirety of the Guardians story, Peter is unable to process situations with the same realism as most others. The Peter Quill on display in every incarnation is still a little boy at heart, and though his growth is noteworthy, as is the case with most tragedies, he cannot shed his scars so easily. In the third act, he fabricates this same connection between Gamora and his mother as she reaches out to embrace him in a moment of tenderness, and a foreboding reality.

Quill’s personality is the stepping stone which allows Gamora to stand taller and prouder than before, to shed her chains of vexation and acknowledge the present. She struggles with little reprieve to put her perturbed past behind her, and to find meaning in the embrace of an affectionate family. Her afflictions sculpted a veneer of indomitable strength, but elevated above it all was a moment of common vulnerability between family. Three simple words which revealed an unblemished soul:

“Take my hand.”

Volume 2: The Family

“I loved your mother, Peter! I couldn’t stand to set foot on an Earth where she wasn’t living! You can’t imagine what that’s like!” “I know exactly what that feels like!” ~ Ego and Peter Quill

Guardians 2 presents a simmering division between Gamora and Peter, their relationship with one-another deeply strained by the introduction of Ego. Peter claims that Gamora’s reluctance to remain on the planet is out of jealousy and other ulterior factors, but her experience in absence of family is the inconvenient truth. In the same vein of Gamora’s hardships, she is imploring Quill to accept the difficult fact that his mother has passed, urging him that the artificial fantasy around them will never plug that void. His remark that Gamora finds pleasure in abusing his weakness and gullibility is not unprecedented, one of Gamora’s most present character flaws which she attempts to bury.

One of the first inclinations of Gamora’s character path in the second Guardians film is a conversation between Peter and Drax, played off as a simple joke at the expense of Quill and his “pathetic” nature. This anecdotal tale serves a far greater narrative purpose than a throwaway crack, enunciating the different journeys which Gamora and Peter have experienced apart from one-another. In the first film, a moment of achievement for Gamora is finding solace in the melodies that Peter shares with her, the same songs which Peter utilized to grieve for his mother. Gamora was never provided this opportune implement to cope, and therefore, aligns with Drax’s analogy, but not remotely by choice.

The relationship between Gamora and Drax throughout the Guardians franchise is one which has expressly defined the series’ values of unlikely companionship, but the roots of the inevitable final destination begin to sprout at the end of the first film. Gamora’s expression when Drax reveals his intent to execute Thanos is one which proves there is some sincerity in her heart toward the Mad Titan, even if this daughterly compassion comes with stipulations of rage and grief. The events which culminated in the creation of Drax the Destroyer are merely a stone’s throw from Gamora’s own troubled upbringing, a similar origin which conversely divides the two more.

From the inception of Gamora to her confrontation with Thanos, all sparks find their match at the touch of the Mad Titan’s fingers. Gamora’s insistent attempts to repair her psychological wounds, her desperate pleas toward her broken sister, and her love for Peter, all present a great moral cost at the arrival of destiny.

Infinity War: The Cost

“What did it cost?” “Everything.” ~ Thanos and Gamora

Thanos and his ‘children’ are spotlighted in Avengers: Infinity War, a cinematic experience of global proportions which finds its lens focused not on Peter Quill, but on the most often discarded member of the Guardians. Infinity War presents Gamora with more straight-forward development than both prior Guardians films combined, a paramount conclusion, and crucial to understanding her narrative arc. After a comprehensive history, four years following the journey of Gamora and the rest of the Guardians, Infinity War launches a curve-ball, a disappointing realization that the most important lesson Gamora has learned throughout the duology, every step she’s taken and hand she’s held, all of it, was in vain.

Gamora’s recognition of the inevitable suffering to come weaves with the thematic choices of loss present across the plot, and the emotionally battered Star-Lord confronts a sacrifice he is not ready to make. As if holding his side-arm to his own mother’s head, he must kill Gamora, the only assurance that Thanos will never reach the Soul Stone, and the only way to truly safeguard the universe. Peter just barely makes that sacrifice, but it is not enough, as his only love is ripped from reality before his eyes. Gamora shares his crumbling foundation, faced with the lessons she’s learned as she confronts her tortured sister, Nebula. Despite every cruel action toward one-another, an instance of staring into her sister’s eye reminds Gamora of the last remaining semblances of family she has, and she grants Thanos another stone on his path to victory, in exchange for finally giving the neglected Nebula a triumph.

As the dust settles on Infinity War‘s ending, the final snap of destiny still ringing out, Nebula is once again left alone, and Thanos is confronted with the fruits of his labor. Gamora’s story comes to a close, the ironic culmination of every swing of a sharpened blade being that the soulless assassin gave herself up for the mystical soul stone, believing in a sister made of machinery, and long-thought barren. From the beginning, she felt conflict at Drax’s intention to kill Thanos, felt uneasy with the weakness of affection and emotion, and adamantly stood by the victory in sacrifice. In time, she discovered her family, her true meaning hand-in-hand with her compatriots, and in her rejection of forfeiting lives, presented Thanos with the only true obstacle ever obstructing his path.

Utmost thanks to Joshua Ezzell for the visual additions to this article.

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