Review: "Avengers: Endgame" Gives the Long Goodbye in Beautiful, Messy Ways

Scene from Avengers: Endgame

If the marketing is to be believed, the impact of Avengers: Endgame is a once in a generation achievement. Over the course of 22 movies, Marvel has built a cinematic universe that has come to redefine modern pop culture and turned such esoteric properties as Guardians of the Galaxy and Captain Marvel into major icons. It's also the stick in the mud that isn't going anywhere, which can be tiresome for those not willing to put up with its three movies-a-year regiments. In fact, there's another film a few months away (Spider-Man: Far From Home) that zaps the film of certain suspense. With Disney+ also promising a half-dozen shows of various B-Level characters, what is there really to get out of Endgame that warrants it of the major acclaim and billion dollar-opening weekend?

In one sense, Endgame isn't the long goodbye that audiences are promised. Avengers: Infinity War wasn't a moment that killed off half of the cast. How could it? Black Panther was a cultural milestone in the entire superhero genre. To kill off such beloved characters (in a more cynical sense: cash cows) feel foolish. It will take years, maybe even decades (or a century) for these characters to lose their appeal. The weight of supervillain Thanos rings hollow in that way, as audiences are used to these characters surviving impossible feats. While it's true that this isn't a goodbye for 80% of characters that appear in Endgame, those that meet their end do so with the bravura that only a franchise that's existed for 11 years could achieve. Not since Harry Potter has something so weird and genre-specific culminated in something of a miracle. For the 20% that are now in the past, this film serves as a loving tribute not only to what The Avengers means as a franchise but the sacrifices that come with being a superhero.

*NOTE: Spoilers for Avengers:: Endgame from here on

As was the case for Endgame's predecessor Infinity War, the story featuring a cast of dozens is actually about two men: Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Thanos (Josh Brolin). In 2008's Iron Man, Stark was a man who sold weapons to the military without a care for the damage he's created. It's a conflict that he's faced throughout the 10 films he's appeared in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (M.C.U.) as he's explored the impact of technology on society. He's become remorseful, but still reliant on his Iron Man suit as a way to protect. Stark's overlying arc over these films has been about atoning for his sins. The suit is his responsibility; a power he wields over the world that makes him a godlike figure. Thanos is the antithesis in that he is just as vulnerable as Stark without his armor (the Infinity Gauntlet). He thrives as someone who suppresses everyone in his life. Much like Stark with The Avengers, Thanos created a loyal group who fight together for their beliefs. Over the course of the three hours, Endgame is essentially a tug-and-pull of getting both of them out of their armor.

It makes sense then why he has become emotionally shattered. He's lost his adopted son Peter Parker (Tom Holland) and feels reminded of the damage he's brought to the world. It's a disappointment that consumes him and the other surviving Avengers. Where he's a nervous wreck floating through space, the others are experiencing grief in their own ways. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) has learned to embrace The Hulk's brawn without using his anger. Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) remains a lonely leader, already knowing the pain of losing someone. Meanwhile, in one of the most charismatic performances in the film, Thor (Chris Hemsworth) has become a slacker, forming a gut and a penchant for looking like a cast member for The Big Lebowski. Everyone in this world, five years later, have technically moved on but there's a lingering sense of regret that these men, considered "Earth's mightiest heroes," are now reduced to emotional wrecks. Even abruptly killing Thanos early in the first act doesn't make anyone happy. The void of initial failure consumes the film.

It's what makes the first two hours so compelling. The film serves as a self-reflective look at the downside of being a hero. There is a certain loss that comes with this position. For some, it's just losing out on personal lives (Captain America), others it's that chance to bond with family (Thor). The film uses all of the pain as a chance for these characters to look beyond their armor and understand what drove them to this responsibility in the first place. For Stark, it is a powerful moment between him and his father Howard (John Slattery) that captures an emotional disconnect in Tony's youth that turned him into the narcissist. Without a caring father, he had no choice but to pursue his self-indulgence through other means. It's a moment that allows Downey to give Stark a deeper sadness, reflecting a regret that the whole franchise has been built upon. He may have built The Avengers as another personal project, but understanding his father explains how poorly he's been using it.

The world of Endgame is just as crazy otherwise. The second act takes the meta route and uses time travel to connect these characters to the backlots of previous films such as Thor: The Dark World. Where it seems like a novelty, it's a chance for these characters to look into their past on a literal sense and try to come to terms with the things they didn't do. Thor never got to say goodbye to his mother, and he finally gets that catharsis. In the process, he's reminded of why he became a leader. It doesn't necessarily rewrite the text of the previous films but enhances the present. These characters are at their most desperate and having that reminder of their gifts to the world allows them to see past their own faults. This isn't just a moment to wallow in failure, but try and right the wrongs of the past. There's plenty of fun madcap action, such as Hulk complaining about taking the stairs out of the Stark building in a scene out of The Avengers. However, it's the emotional core that allows this ridiculous, sometimes too absurd, conflict to play out.

It's hard to fully love every wild gamble that directors Joe and Anthony Russo bring this film. While they have become the stalwarts to the franchise, having produced four films total, they still have some weaknesses as filmmakers. They capture the emotional beats, such as Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) returning from the quantum realm (see: Ant-Man and the Wasp) only to realize that five years have passed and the world has lost so much. He sees monuments reminiscent of the Vietnam Memorial with the names of everyone lost. His daughter has also grown older, creating the tragedy of lost time. Everything about the core of these characters still works, and the dynamic has only improved since the early outings. Where they started as antagonists to each other, The Avengers conclude Endgame realizing that the world is more important than their egos. Stark has overcome that final hurdle beautifully, which leads into the final fight scene that captures the real issue with the film.

Once the story gets past the emotional character moments, Endgame begins to fall flat and becomes a victim of the franchise writ large. Thanos may have been a great supervillain to end things on, but that's about it. The M.C.U. has largely been accused of not having compelling villains, and rarely does it feel as crucial to the discussion than it is in the finale. When the triumph of Alan Silvestri's towering score (maybe even the best of the 22 films) kicks in and the heroes have brought back the large supporting cast from the great unknown, it's supposed to be the best moment in the whole film. The battle to end all battles. Instead, it's great in short spurts. Without great characters like in Captain America: Civil War, The Russo Brothers are reduced to muddling results as every character that audiences have known and love face off against beasts that otherwise serve no purpose. There's been no build-up to them. They've served more as another threat than a culmination of 22 films. Sure, it's cool when Spider-Man is swinging through the chaos with the Infinity Gauntlet, but imagine if these dozens of Avengers fought a bigger foe that had built up a reputation as a threat. It would show just how much the team has grown over these films to beat an indomitable foe. With that said, Captain Marvel (Brie Larson) still fails to work as a member of the team and is more of a deus ex machina, swooping in for seconds on end to knock down an enemy. It raises the question as to why she was needed this abruptly in the picture, especially when she adds nothing to the crucial battle. It's the film's biggest issue, which is the glut of additional characters that are cool in their own films but get lost in the crowd otherwise.

The film achieves what it sets out to do, but it also is a reminder of the issue with the M.C.U.'s ensemble films. With too many characters to serve the emotional intimacy is sometimes lost. Stark's journey at grappling with what he's created is undercut by the ridiculousness of characters embracing silly things like Captain America lifting Thor's hammer Mjolnir just so that a film can have cool action. For what it's worth, the few battles with Thanos are compelling team-up matches, which is a positive carried over from Infinity War. However, it's a moment that is so over the top and follows a redundant battlefield sequence that makes it all lose some levity. While it ends beautifully with Stark coming to terms with his legacy, the road there is maybe a bit overwhelming and fails to culminate in a fully satisfying summary of events. Considering how much else about the film works at capturing what valor means to these characters, the final battle against no-name villains is greatly depleted.

As a form of entertainment, it's still insane to know that something of this magnitude could ever exist. Whereas a decade ago would've been too early to see characters use time travel, galaxy traveling, and magical rocks as emotional plot devices, now it feels crucial to making these films work. There's plenty of peril that works, but The Russo Brothers are better at drama than action, and they fail to make a battle scene that ends the whole story on a high note. Yes, they deliver the Stark farewell that thematically wraps up these 22 films, but it comes at a cost. The finale is beautiful, showing how these heroes are vulnerable and human. Thor being fat isn't just for a joke, but for a crushing reality of his self-esteem. Rodgers' desire to retire by never being Captain America is a sad reality that makes sense from his perspective. It's insane that most of the original cast's story arcs culminate properly in ways that give the audience the emotional gut punch that's necessary. It's great to know that a film like this could take those chances and mostly work. It's all a bit too much in times, but its heart and mind are in the right place.

Endgame isn't the conclusion of the M.C.U., for better and worse. However, it finishes a phase where the original heroes come to terms with their legacy. Much like Logan with Wolverine, the emotional stems largely from how connected audiences have been to these characters. The only difference is that this film is crazier, longer, and taking bolder chances. Does it all work? Not exactly. Still, knowing that there's a film with these many characters that matter to a wide audience is quite an achievement. It may not hold up in the long run, especially as audiences get comfortable in a post-Iron Man world, but for now, it summarizes what this franchise has meant. It all started with a man selling weapons for war, and it ends with the same man wishing for peace. It's such a slight thing, but it's a brilliant realization came in between the scenes. Downey's performance may have been at times tedious over the past 11 years, but in the end, he delivered something that summarizes why his character mattered to the bigger picture, and why these characters haven't left the conversation. He faced evil and exposed its vulnerability. It came at a price, but that's the tragedy with being a hero. You have to take the risks that others wouldn't be able to.