Which focus group is saying “More mopey emo super hero movies, please”? (Image from Teepublic)

Is there any way to describe the end of the last Avengers movie other than “UGH!”? I really loved the first Avengers movie, but this felt like a waste of time and opportunity. And no, I’m not just upset because the bad guy won. The Guardians of the Galaxy films were the same way for me— I really enjoyed the first one, yet the second one just left me feeling bad. It seems like the general trend for films in this series is that they get worse. They start out all whizz bang fun and cool, and then don’t know where to go from there.

What is going on here — what is so dissapointing about these films, why do they feel so bad, and what does it mean?

What Are Heroes For Anyways?

Humankind has been telling stories of heroes for thousands of years. From the Mahabharata, to Gilgamesh, to the Oddessy, to Jesus, to Aesop’s Fabels, to Star Wars, mankind keeps re-inventing the Hero and re-telling the Hero’s Journey. Superhero comics fit the same role, initially targeted at a young audience, but now rebooted as films for mass consumption.

If we keep retelling and re-inventing these stories — they must be important — what role do they fill?

You’ve probably already heard of Joseph Campbell and the hero’s journey, if not, read here. The basic point is: mythology is a map of spiritual growth. Before we had churches or organized religions, psychology, or psychotherapists, we had stories. It is how we shared in each other’s experiences, how we passed on our culture.

The canonical hero story is thus: a hero is called to adventure, to leave the safety of their society, which is often in peril. This call is often refused initially because of some sort of issue within the hero which must be worked through. A mentor arrives to help the hero begin on their path — out of their normal world and in to the chaotic arms of life itself. On their adventure they face trials, and typically end up fighting a father figure who is representative of death itself. They often must enter the underworld, and in doing so are changed — but through that change obtain the ultimate boon — the elixir of life. They are then able to return to their society with this knowledge/power to integrate it in their culture — renewing the freedom to live for all.

This is foremost the story of children coming in to adulthood. Of leaving behind the world of their parents, and creating their own life. To do so, their ego (the personality imprinted on them by their society) must be changed (symbolically to die) so that they can obtain and make use of new (symbolically to be reborn) knowledge and powers . Of which their society was ignorant, and yet need in order to survive. This is the story of life itself — if existing beings knew all, why would life have evolved parents and children? It is a repeating process — not only within a society, but within each individual as they grow throughout their life.

We can also think of the ego as the story which we tell ourselves about our selves. How we see ourselves, our role in the world, our relationship to our family, society, etc. Our ego is the costume that we wear to interface with the rest of world. It is necessary to our development, it is the rigid armor we wear to protect our selves — our vulnerable, soft, still growing seedling parts (i.e. our spirit) — from the harshness of the world around us. Ego’s purpose is the survival of the individual — there can be no development without survival. But what comes after that?

You also may have heard of Carl Jung, and his notion of the collective unconscious and the archetypes. Without going too much into detail — we all face similar struggles, the Earth spins, the sun rises, we wake up, find food, eat it, find a place in society, find a mate, build a family, raise a family, say goodbye. We share 99.9% of our DNA, have similar emotional capabilities / expressions, mirror neurons, etc. Our problems, at a high level are also solved in similar ways, with similar behaviors and personalities — the archetypes. Think Yoda the mentor, Darth Vader the dark father, Luke Skywalker the hero, Han Solo the Rogue, R2D2 the trickster, Chewbacca the loyal beast. The point is that these heroes, these stories will always bubble up from our “collective unconscious” as long as we are all solving the same problem of living and growing on this Earth. Similar to Voltaire’s remark: “If God did not exist — it would be necessary to invent him”.

Art is always a representation of our unconscious, our way to make sense of our world, which is beyond logic.

“The artist deals with what cannot be said in words.The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words.”― Ursula K. Le Guin

Thus, any time something has mass appeal, that draws us in, it is probably pulling on us unconsciously, we are looking, searching, for ways to solve some problem. As humans, we do this through narrative, through story. The hero’s story is a classic, the rice and beans of spiritual development. It is the meta-story that helps us change our ego story (akin to “backprop” for a neural net if you are in to artificial intelligence). Our abilities to share experience via language as well as imagine alternate futures and histories are distinguishing capabilities for us. They are an inexorable part of all we have achieved as a species.

Our hero is supposed to be our guide. They are supposed to model for us the behaviors that lead to development, flourishing and growth. Not only for the individual — but for a society — a composition of individuals.

We live in a turbulent age — from incels to terrorists to neo-nazis, to populist nationalist movements, to authoritarians of every variety: from mafiosos to theocrats. Our old myths are no longer vitalizing us. Some look to polish them up, to simply rebrand them. Unconsciously we are desperately looking for their energy — for the elixir of life to make us, and our societies whole again. These regressive ideologies offer a solution, typically an easy one on the ego, but that always takes more than its pound of flesh when paid out.

Thanos — The Perfect Fascist

Look no further than the “Thanos Did Nothing Wrong” subreddit for a great barometer for our age. Legions of people cheering for totalitarianism because they fall for its shiny and clever new marketing and don’t see it for what it is.

Challenge Accepted.

So what is totalitarianism anyways? When we look at the totalitarian movements of the past, what characteristics did they have in common? I would posit these:

Unquestioned loyalty to a single patriarchal figurehead

Some aspect of the “chosen people” who are being victimized

The attainment and centralization of ALL power under this figurehead

The unabashed and unapologetic use of violence to attain their ends, and a scorning of other methods (e.g. diplomacy) as ineffective.

A “final solution” to correct the imbalance in the world — the “chosen people” who should not be victims of some other group.

We’ve seen this play out in Stalin (the proletariat victimized by the bourgeuous, power centralized in the communist party, enforced by the Gulags and KGB, with final solutions of the great purge and the international communist revolution), Hitler (the Aryan people victimized by the Jews, power centralized in the Nazi party, enforced brutally by the SS and Gestapo, with the Holocaust as the solution), and many others.

The key idea is that life is a zero sum game, there is a fixed amount of resources, and the powerful figurehead promises to provide the chosen people their rightful allocation. For example, the Nazi invasion of its eastern neighbors was justified via the contention that Germany required a Lebensraum (‘living space’) necessary for its survival. The “iron curtain” of the USSR was justified in a very similar way.

Typically, the “rightful allocation” is not an even split, the aggrieved are actually special and deserve extra (didn’t see that one coming!). And typically the “chosen” people are selected via racial, national, or religious lines. In the end, it’s not about left vs right, it is purely about power.

The results of these movements was incredible destruction. Hence, societal norms have evolved to strongly discourage aggressive nationalism, racism, and other forms of bigotry. While also encouraging diplomacy and democracy.

So now let’s look at Thanos — he certainly demands unerring loyalty. His followers speak of him in religious terms of reverence. His mission is the attainment of all of the “infinity stones” which grant him vast powers over the forces of the entire universe. He will invade and destroy any planet to obtain these stones. His sense of victimhood is that the universe has a finite amount of resources and there are too many beings, and that the endless vying for resources which they undertake creates conflict and suffering. He simply seeks balance by ending the conflict — ceasing the existence of half of the beings in the universe.

Thanos correctly identifies that racial, gender, national and religious lines are pretty much drawn randomly. So his notion of the “chosen people” is just to choose them randomly! His “final solution,” as with all final solutions, is to just kill them. (The victims turning to ash a reminder of the ashes of Aushwitz.) Thanos has simply made the absurd leap to make the perpetrator and the victimized chosen people the same group.

Thanos is just being objective and unbiased: he’s a centrist. Both sides have made mistakes. Thanos believes in equality — you’re not against equality are you? He’s just a steely eyed realist. The universe is full. This is the only way.

There is a sort of logic to it. Yet it is an absurd logic which is actually just self-serving. What he truly desires is power. And power, by itself, is always absurd. It is primal and uncivilized. Power is beyond logic — there is no why — it simply is. At a fundamental level there is nothing stopping the exercise of power, if you have enough of it. Societal and political norms are logical constructions. They mean nothing to those who are not bought in.

The truth is, Thanos is just a totalitarian with better marketing.

Hmm… they fell for “peaceful ethnic cleansing” — what if I call it “pain-free genocide”? I’d probably need a better hairstyle. Grrr, my difficulties in being bald are more than anyone could possibly imagine.

Totalitarians will use everything and anything against you. Every institution, every societal norm, every bit of good faith and will. They are playing a different, absurd game, and they are better at that game than you — who just started playing it. Their views are all encompassing, they have the understanding and answers to everything — totally.

You see, Thanos is a failure of creativity — yet creativity is life. Throw some shit on the ground, let it bake in the sun, let some water fall on it, and watch: flowers, fruits, insects, animals, people, art, cities, spaceships arise. All through the creative adaptation and improvement of molecules, proteins, cells, organs, thoughts, symbols, and culture to the surrounding environment.

The opposite of life is death — personified by Thanatos in ancient Greek mythology. If the hero’s journey renews and brings life to a society, then Thanos is on the anti-hero’s journey. He has the infinity stones which grant him control of time, reality, space, mind, power, and soul. He can bend reality to his will — create whatever he desires. As he says: “Now… reality can be whatever I want.” Yet all he creates is ash. The universe’s resources are not exhausted, his creative ability is.

Acknowledging that some of the Surrealist movement’s absurd objectives had been “achieved much better by the Nazi idiots than by us” — [during the German Occupation] Magritte invented a completely new mode of Surrealism — “I live in a very unpleasant world, that’s why my painting is a battle, or a counteroffensive.” — SF MOMA

The cracks in Thanos’ worldview are the same as in any fascist authoritarian. Thanos sees himself as the universal father, condescendingly calling everyone around him “child”. Thanos and his followers are consistent gaslighters engaged in double speak: “welcome to salvation — your pointless lives now have meaning” before slaughting everyone. As Gamora says “You kill and torture and you call it mercy.” Thanos also has an unquestioned sense of victimhood — after choosing to murder Gamora, whom he claims to love, he tells his victims “Today I have lost more than you know.” No, dude, we know exactly what you have lost — you “lost” a daughter and a right-hand man. How many children and trusted friends of others are you about to turn to ash? By always playing the victim Thanos gets to say things like “The hardest choices require the strongest wills.” Yet his will is not that strong — only by believing himself to be this cosmic victim does he get to claim that. That is the story which Thanos tells himself — the victim’s story — the opposite of the hero’s story. A stronger will — a hero — would make the universe better with their creativity — like the giant dwarves who harnessed the power of a star.

The stunted ego story is rooted in deprivation — which is forefront on Thanos’ mind. On Gamorah’s home planet providing half of the children with full bellies justifies his genocide. Let us not forget — Hitler also came to power during a period of intense deprivation in Weimar Germany. Yet still today there are those who would revise him as a great leader who simply went off his rocker. They point to the revitalization of the German economy — ignoring the fact that it was funded by stealing everything from the Jewish population. Such solutions are not sustainable, and thus it was inevitable that Hitler would need to expand the scope of his looting to his neighbors. Hitler claimed to love Germany — and in the end, he brought it immense pain and destruction. Just like Thanos brought immense self-loathing to Gamora before he murdered her. Thanos’ solution is just as unsustainable — bringing prosperity to one group via the destruciton of another — life will always continue to expand, how many times does he forsee “snapping his fingers”?

Because here is the crucial point — Thanos tells himself that he is special, he is different. The rules are different for him. Literally. When he snaps his fingers and half of the beings in the universe are turned to ash, is his being subjected to the same random draw? No, it is not. His own words betray him— “With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers, and they would all cease to exist. [And then] I finally rest… and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe.” There is no question in his mind that he is still alive after his genocide. They would cease to exist. So it’s not so random after all, not so just. Absurdity always leads to contradiction.

Infinitely Missing The Point

Now that we have clearly established a villain — the question arises, why do the heroes fail so spectacularly?

The point of the hero’s journey is the story of spiritual growth, the infinite well, which renews society. It is the process of bringing the new, of the rebirth of society, of solving the problems of the age. It is a process that is ever ongoing. Life must continuously be maintained, renewed, reborn.

If our heroes are unable to do that — they are not heroes.

I get that it is all post-modern and en vogue for our heroes to either be all character flawed, self-centered, and wittily detached, or else mopey, lonely and woe-is-me. Yet it is the former that leads to the latter. It is nothing but the cycle of gradiosity and depression which is typified in narcissism — an important stage in the development of a child. But regressive in adults. Not something to be championed and modeled.

So let’s review our cast of characters:

We have Iron Man, whose very super power is also indicative of his stunted development — he is a genius, that uses his intellect to build incredibly strong armor and weapons while also being witty and charming. Yet, this same intellect is also used to armor his ego, and we find that his arrogance and hubris cause the splintering of the Avengers, and the creation of a dangerous AI. He has a civil war with Captain America all because he can’t pick up the phone. His romantic relationship is fragile because he is always building secret projects because he thinks he knows better than everyone around him. In battles and when negotiating with allies, his intellect is often used in service of defending his ego, rather than focusing on solving the problem at hand. In the end, he stands alone against Thanos and loses, his greatest fear.

Gamora, traumatized by the legacy of her upbringing (“Everything I hate about myself you taught me”), who nobly wants to resist and fight the darkness in her father. Yet she is unconsciously drawn in to his orbit. She knew she alone knew the location of the stone, and knew how powerful he is — why even risk getting captured? There were plenty of other battles to fight. Because in the end, like a traumatized child, she cannot help but give her father exactly what he wants — she basically hands Thanos the soul stone on a silver platter. At the cost of her own life. A tragedy played out over and over in our society.

Captain America — his purity makes him weak. He will not take action if one innocent life is lost: “We don’t trade lives”. Yes, you do, Cap. Yes, you do. You traded the lives of half the universe for — nothing — Vision still died. A trade is forced on you. Not choosing to trade (or choosing way too late) is still choosing.

Thor — believes too much in his fate and his superiority — his “manifest destiny” if you will — even after the apocalypse of Ragnarok. “I’m only alive because fate wants me alive. Thanos is the latest in a long line of bastards and he will be the latest to feel my vengeance. Fate wills it so.” And in the end, he fails to kill Thanos because he wanted his moment of glory, to gloat in his superiority “I told you I would kill you” — when he “should have gone for the head.”

Bruce Banner, who is too fractured to be effective, unable to integrate his power. So he is relegated to a supporting role.

Hawkeye simply tries to escape, ignore the universe, and focus on his family.

Vision — ironically, is never able to see what is coming. The ultimate achievement in high tech, AI robotic engineering, yet fails to out strategize any one and falls for Captain America’s purity.

War Machine — does his duty, even though the hierarchy he upholds is foolish and ineffective.

Starlord — a mean-spirited sarcastic who moronically engages in emotional, ineffective, egocentric attacks that ruin the winning strategy against a more powerful opponent. He’s the Kathy Griffin of the team.

The Guardians of the Galaxy —a broken family, too busy bickering and being self-centered to achieve anything, and did more harm than good —practically handing Thanos half of the stones. They are so noxious to me that they deserve extra attention — let’s briefly trace their story arc. In the first film, they are a rag tag bunch of selfish sarcastic rogues who decide to work together to help save the universe. In the end of the movie, they achieve this together — by becoming something larger than their individual selves — a family. Together they are able to harness the power stone, and they do it their way — to a bitchin 70’s soundtrack and with sweet dance moves. A great film. In the second film, we see that their climactic battle at the end of the first film has not changed them — they’re still being sarcastic, shitty and selfish — but to a new mix tape of bitchin’ tunes. At the start of Infinity War, they are even worse, a super dysfunctional family — tearing each other down incessantly — with pure of heart, lovable Groot disassociatedly playing his video game being a snotty teen stereotype. The angsty teen trope is perhaps an opiate for masses of dysfunctional families — yet see how Groot’s demeanor changes when separated from them, he becomes engaged in general, and helpful when making Thor’s axe. The dysfunction of the family can clearly be seen when Thanos first apprehends Gamorah:

“Thanos: Ah, the boyfriend.

Quill: I like to think of myself more as a Titan-killing long-term booty call. Let her go.”

[15 seconds later, he is obviously not letting her go…]

Gamora: I love you, more than anything.

Quill: I love you, too.”

This is “love” in the modern era — too cool for school, too scared to be authentic, afraid of missing out because I don’t know my values, gotta keep my options open— and we see the dysfunction that results. Is Quill’s rage in the climactic moment with Thanos really love for Gamora or the rage of a child when their beloved toy is broken? “Grrrr, you broke my fuck toy! I loved playing with my fuck toy!”

The problem is that both the Avengers and Guardians — these flawed yet powerful people — don’t support each other, they don’t nurture each other, and they don’t grow. As Jungian analyst James Hollis writes “The healthy family posits the nurturance of all individuals in the family as its highest value. The family [exists] to support the growth and individuation of each of its members. None is there to serve the narcissistic needs of any other. Each is there to support growth and feel that support in return.” In the films, these families just sit around and snipe at each other, demand things their way, never compromise, and don’t really change. Every solution to their problems is MOAR POWER! Iron Man — even when his robots turn against him — MOAR ROBOTS! Hulk’s answer to every problem — MOAR SMASH! Thor’s answer — MOAR ANGER LIGHTNING! An infant only has one way of solving their problems: the emotional outburst of crying. So what does an infant do when their solution isn’t working? Cry harder. (The sequel to Cry Hard.)

It’s not an infinity war — it’s an infantile war.

Avengers Endgame — Cry Hard With a Vengeance.

Infinite Failure — A Metaphor For Our Age

So what happens? Thanos comes along, takes all of their infinity stones like taking candy from a baby, and turns half of them to ash. An infant can not defeat its father. The despotic parent always burns away the parts of the child which they have no use for.

My apologies for throwing shade on what are possibly some of your favorite characters. I have a true fondness for many of them. The point is that these characters are likable — I would love to go out drinking with Thor — but not always admirable — I would not teach my children to be entitled like Thor.

What we see in this story, in our heroes, is a reflection of our own broken society, of our own flawed selves. They are the archetypes of our disfunction. Those too afraid to act, or even call things what they are, those too afraid to be their authentic selves, those afraid of their power, those who feel entitled to their power, those who would rather defend their egos at all cost, those who would rather take orders, those who would prop up an ineffective hierarchy, those focused on problems too small — polishing the deck chairs on the titanic. They are unwilling to undertake the journey, see themselves in a different light, to change their story — to visit the underworld — and to be born anew.

More concretely, is American Exceptionalism any different than Thor’s? Is Gamora any different than those of us in poor relationships, replaying parental dramas? Is Captain America any different than those of us who won’t vote because the candidates don’t meet our high standards of purity? Are Tony Stark and Vision any different than those who think technology will save us? How many of our inner Groots have disassociated in a toxic environment? How many of us champion and defend a system which we know is ineffective and broken, because we are too afraid to attempt another way? How many Starlords are on Twitter right now, slinging shit on others, making everything worse, rather than dealing with their own shit? How many Hulks are out there, afraid of their own unintegrated power? How many of us feel the call to find a remote place, hunker down, and hide like Hawkeye? I see myself and those I love in every one of these characters. All of these behaviors are rooted in stories which the characters tell themselves — strategies for survival — stories and strategies which need to be updated.

The point is that the ego — the costume, the armor — is necessary for survival as a child. At some point though, we have survived, we have grown up. The question then becomes not about how do we survive, but about how do we thrive? The armored ego is strong yet rigid — yet it is limiting. Removing it to become more flexible, more adaptable, is the key. Like training wheels on a bike, which become a hinderance to be removed at a certain point. Learning to use your legs to walk and run are necessary for survival, but dancing is and expression of thriving.

Our stories are also a lens through which we can see not only ourselves, but also our culture. What do I mean by this? Let’s take a look at the people who are writing these stories. Our modern day Homers — are they more Homer of Greece or Homer of Springfield? Who are these people who are trusted with shepherding our culture?

Talk about mixing metaphors- D’oh!

Let’s look at the writer and director of the Guardians of the Galaxy characters I discussed above: James Gunn. James recently got in trouble for past jokes on Twitter about pedophilia and rape. Jokes on terrible topics which show a remarkable lack of concern for the (understandably sensitive) feelings of others. As James explained himself — “Many people who have followed my career know, when I started, I viewed myself as a provocateur, making movies and telling jokes that were outrageous and taboo… I’ve developed as a person, so has my work and my humor… It’s not to say I’m better, but I am very, very different than I was a few years ago; today I try to root my work in love and connection.” I take James at his word, and I sincerely wish him the development he desires, we’re all immature and make mistakes. That said, let’s summarize this person— someone who clearly desires love and connection, but is so armored and cut off from his own feelings that he can not achieve what he wants. Yet at the same time is desperate for it, that he engages in drastic provocations to break through the armor of others, with no respect for their feelings. Something which ultimately dramatically backfires for him in the end.

Does this not sound like the characters he has written? What we are probably witnessing on the screen is his unconscious self working it out — through his art. I believe that he’s trying to root his work in love and connection — but is clearly having a hard time. I would posit this might be because he hasn’t finished his journey (ironically, very hard to do when your work is a massive success). Yet — he is in some sense writing the guide book for our society!

Why Are You Upset — It’s Just a Movie

This movie was painful to me because it is nothing but a retelling of the same story that I see in the news every single day. Epic failures of insight, courage, leadership, and character in the face of growing and craven authoritarianism. I watch movies to at least escape, possibly to be reminded of the way out, and at best, to be inspired to act.

Mind you, I don’t know how this all plays out (theatrically or societally), so forgive me if you find my lack of faith disturbing. Yet, as discussed with Mr. Gunn above, how can someone who has never been to the destination write the travel guide? It seems likely to me that we’re seeing the thrashings of people just as confused as we are. Yet subconsciously, we are likely to use it as a guide anyways. Seeing this behavior modeled by “heroes” leads us to believe it is normal and acceptable. Like ducklings imprinting on their parents. Our society needs to do better right now.

More practically, there’s time travel involved in the plot, so my guess is they’ll find a way to rewind time and save everyone. Yet another Deus Ex Machina time travel plot hole. In the real world, we don’t get “do-overs.” Life is not a video game that you can go back and reload your save game when you don’t get the outcome that you wanted. I might be wrong though, maybe the writers are very talented and attuned, and they have been setting us up for the long game.

Or possibly I am asking too much of a Hollywood movie. I should just shut up and enjoy the spaceships, the quips, and the pew pew robots (they sure are fun). Movies are huge investments undertaken by massive corporations. Who says this corporation owes our society anything? Telling a good story would entail effort, cost, and risk — they have their shareholders to think about after all! They could lose a significant portion of their 200 billion dollar market capitalization and the power that comes with it. The health of a society is someone else’s problem.

According to our laws, a corporation is a person. Do we have any words for the type of person who is antisocial and/or lacks a conscience? Two come to mind — a sociopath or a psychopath. Compared to the average citizen, the corporate-personhood definitely has superpowers — from lobbying to change laws, advertising to change perceptions and behaviors, to helping define the narrative of our culture, to shaping how people see themselves and their relationship to the world around them. Story itself is a superpower, and they control it.

But wait — how does that line go? “With great power comes great responsibility.”