âThe MCU cycle began when Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk were created in 2008, in the last year of Bushâs presidency. â
âThey are set against the backdrop of warsâin Iraq, in Afghanistanâthat never seemed to endâ
âTo watch them now is to remember a time when we could still remember a time before we were at war, forever, with terror.â
âthey are stories that ask a single, basic question: what if we are the enemy weâve been searching for?â
âSince the answer, unavoidably, is yes, the next phase gave us The Avengers: with Thor and Captain America in 2011âleading up to The Avengers in 2012âthe movies started to tell a larger story, about building a team of super-heroes out of this disparate set of âspecialâ individuals; as fucked up as they all were, separately, maybe, together, they could be something⌠more?â
âThese are still stories in which the enemy we are searching for might turn out to be us, of course; they are still movies where anxiety about the self gets exorcized by violent combat with a double, just as Iron Man fought an even more iron man and The Incredible Hulk fought a bigger, more incredible hulk. â
âAnd they are right to be anxious! What is Nazi-fighter Captain America, after all, but a genetically-modified Aryan super soldier? What is Thorâs quest to be âworthyâ if not a conquering despotâs desire to justify the unjustifiable, to insist that he rules for some reason other than force? â
âOn some level, these movies always know that their protagonists are hypocrites, that the things they are fighting are basically themselves. S.H.I.E.L.D. vs. H.Y.D.R.A⌠what really is the difference?â
âBy the time of Civil War (2016), weâve learned that âUsâ is an unstable combination, that blowback is still real, and that no one really transcends their deep flaws. â
âEven the two Guardians of the Galaxy movies tell a version of this story: if the first (2014) is about finding a new family, the second (2017) will be about remembering just how toxic family can be, and how long-lasting its wounds are.â
ââThe main thing Iâve learned over the years is that the MacGuffin is nothing,â as Alfred Hitchcock once put it. And the best MacGuffin was âthe emptiest, the most nonexistent, and the most absurdâŚboiled down to its purest expression: nothing at all!ââ
âWhy would this be a useful narrative device? One reason, I think, is that it allows the audience to disentangle their own desires from that of the characters; if we know that what they are struggling for is a meaningless, absurd, and contrived doo-hickey, we can detach our sympathies from them; we can regard them cynically; and we can understand that what the movie we are watching is about is not what the movie we are watching is about. They might want something in particularâa Maltese Falcon, sayâbut we are just watching a story about people who want.â
âWhat we want is not a particular, arbitrary thing, in other words; what we want is to want, in general.â
âwhen we are watching characters wantâand when we know that the thing they want is not the thing we want (because the thing they want isnât even a thing)âit helps clarify that what we want is simply wanting: we desire desire itself.â
âIn this sense, itâs worth observing that Infinity War canât really be âaboutâ the Infinity Stones. â
âThey are the object of Thanosâ quest, and all the action revolves around them, but they are also, as six of the most MacGuffinny Macguffuns ever to guff their mac over the story, ridiculous in that very specific MacGuffin way. â
âThey are too absurd to be what the story is about; other than the Collectorâs ridiculous monologue in Guardians of the Galaxy, we never learn what they are or why they are or who made them or anything about them; they just are, so that the story can revolve itself around them. â
âThey are there so Thanos can want something, and so thatâin using themâhe can make everyone else find themselves wanting something: the lack of half the population.â
âDestroying people we like is something the movie can do to make us feel. And so it does. That is what the Infinity Stones are for, and what Infinity War is a machine built to do: channel the power of the Infinity MacGuffins to make us feel bad. â
âA better question than âWho is Thanos and what are the Infinity Stones?â would be: why has Marvel Studios made twenty movies about MacGuffins?â
âOr, rather, why would Marvel pretend that this is what these movies are all about? Why would someone want to say that all of these stories have been leading up to this one, final, climactic story?â
âmost of the most interesting things in the most interesting movies have nothing to do with the Thanos plot at allâ
âIf the eighteen movies leading up to Infinity War I & II were only about the Infinity Stones, the franchise would never have gotten there; the first Captain America movie is about an Infinity Stone, kind of, but the second one really, really is not. In fact, when you get right down to it, most of the movies have nothing to do with the Infinity Stones. They tell very different kinds of stories; if there technically are Infinity Stones present, thatâs not really what those stories are about.â
âTo pick a few random examples: Thor: Ragnarok was about emigrants fleeing a lost home, about how you carry home with you wherever you go. â
âSpider-Man: Homecoming was about choosing not to be an Avenger, but simply to be a modest, humble, neighborhood hero (and also to be a kid). â
âBlack Panther was about blackness undefined by, conquered by, enslaved by, or beholden to whiteness. â
âGuardians of the Galaxy is about finding a family among other people whose families hurt them.â
âInfinity Warâas Gerry Canavan observed to meâdestroys each of these stories completely. It does not develop them, build on them, or bring them to a climax; it simply eats them up. â
âThor: Ragnarok ended with the remnants of Asgard sailing bravely into the future in a kind of space ark; Infinity War begins with that space Ark having been blasted to hell (and though Thor later says something about how âhalfâ his people were killed, come on).â
âPeter Parker ended his movie by declining to join the Avengers; in this movie, he joins the Avengers almost immediately.â
âBlack Panther is about a place where everyone is black, the white guys are not that important, and Wakandaâs survival is the most important thing; Infinity War has TâChalla deciding to sacrifice Wakanda in battle without any trace of the prickly and regal insularity that has been the entirety of his character up to that point.â
âGuardians of the Galaxy was about finding a family and staying together; in Infinity War, Thor arrives and they break up the group immediately.â
âMy point is that thereâs a conflict between the accumulative narrative impulse to see these movies as one continuous story and the sprawling impulse that lets them maintain different styles and themes and even narrative logics. â
âIf the MCU has been good because they let different voices tell different types of storiesâand to the extent that it is good, it is because of thatâInfinity War is bad because it smashes them all into indistinguishable paste. â
âThe Collector said that a powerful person âcan use the stones to mow down entire civilizations like wheat in a fieldâ; this is a good description of how Infinity War relates to its constituent stories: it harvests them.â
âLet me put it this way: Thereâs an extractive, exploitative relationship between the Avengers âteam upâ movies and the standalone single-hero stories, the same relationship we see between the Infinity Stone MacGuffins and the stories that the various Marvel movies have built around them.â
âThe Infinity Stones are the real story, the big picture, the driving force behind their master-narratives in the same way that capital always thinks itâs the âjob creator.â But this is exactly backwards, in exactly the way extractive relations of exploitation tend to condition their beneficiaries to misunderstand what is happening: The Infinity Stones and the âteam upâ movies are spending the currency whose value was built out of the sweat and blood and human labor of the standalone movies.â
âInfinity War is the moment when profits are extracted from the richness and depth of their stories, skimmed off and collected and sold: âLook, we killed Spider Man, Black Panther, Bucky, Gamora, Loki!â they say; âLook how it makes you feel!ââ
âBut itâs a bad movie. Itâs a bad movie in the way extractive economies are bad stewards of their chains of production; it takes interesting, complex, and very delicate stories and it reduces them to extremely simple versions of themselves, massively degrading the underlying system.â
âThey are complex ecosystems, these stories, their development a function of careful nurturing and adept pruning. â
âInfinity War looked at those stories and saw fields, turned the fields into grain, turned the grain into money, and then spent the money. â
âInfinity War learned the lesson of Game of Thrones: people are so desperate to feel something that they will mistake narrative sadism for powerful storytelling.â
âSo on and so on: if we feel things with these deaths, itâs because they are climaxes to stories that other movies have carefully developed. But only as end-points, only as final withdrawals.â
âInfinity War has nothing to add to what those previous movies say about youth or about complex feelings about parents or about the African diaspora; moreover, because all of its deaths are transparently going to be taken back, it has nothing to say about the finite nature of life. â
âInfinity War tries to imbue Thanos with tragic nobility, making his loss something we should have feelings about: As terrifying as his violence it, we learn, he thinks he is doing the right thing! But: with the gauntlet and the stones, he has become omnipotent and omniscient and he could do whatever he wants to make the universe a better place. The finger snap of doom is dramatic and terrifying and itâs also really, really dumb. Itâs so dumb that the comic-book plot where Thanos is in love with Death herself, and kills half the universe to get a date with her, is actually less dumb.â
âItâs dumb because this movie doesnât want to tell complex stories about the nuances of existence in an endlessly expanding and surprising multi-verse; it wants to pound us with stories about violence as simple and clear as a literal roller coaster. It doesnât want to keep building a franchise; it wants to sell off the parts and pocket a percentage. It looks at a house and instead of a place for people to live and grow, it sees a real-estate property.â
âNo one has an unironic relation to a MacGuffin. The MacGuffin is not the thing that MacPhailâs original story about the guy on the train is about, because the story only exists to explain what the word means. There is no MacGuffin without the story; MacGuffins are the things whose nonexistence the story was invented to explain, but which the story actually calls into (non)existence. This is a paradox, which is what MacGuffins are, paradoxical.â
âHowever, since the very definition of the thing includes its own incoherenceâto define it is to explain why it doesnât exist, but it only exists because of its definitionâthe MacGuffin, rather uniquely, is not something you can ever take seriously. â
âTo name it that is to know what it isâthat it isnâtâand like trying to explain to someone that Thanos has a crush on death and THATâs why he wants to blow up the universe, these are words and sentences that drown out their own meaning when you speak them.â
âThanos is humorless and lacking in self-consciousness. He has an image of himself as the man who does what no one else will, and so thatâs what he does. He does not quip; he does not get angry; he is patient and even selfless in his way; because he cannot see that he is ridiculous, he cannot be self-conscious.â
âHis tragedy is this lack of irony, his total commitment to a destiny from which he cannot obtain even the slightest trace of detachment. â
âIf he could, he would see how ludicrous it is. But he canât. He is exactly the sort of person who would misunderstand what a MacGuffin is for, because he has an unironic relationship with it. He is the sort of maniac who would set out to be a farmer by burning the world to the ground; he knows costs but not value, because he farms but does not eat.â
âThanos is the hero of this one; as Thanos sets out to bring order and peace by culling the herd, arbitrarily, what is it that Tony Stark has been doing, since the very beginning? Has he not, as Iron Man, been killing the bad guys in the name of the greater good? Has he not, since the beginning, been arbitrarily deciding which is which?â
âMy first reaction to watching it was that Infinity War is trash; my second has been that itâs a film which explores how the entire franchise is bullshit. â
âTony Stark became the foundation for a franchise, and now, Thanos has been its logical endpoint: endowed with infinite power, he does not empower the universe, he culls it. And unlike our flawed heroes, who make spontaneous decisions that affect the fate of millions, he does it randomly. They are arbitrary, but him? He is unbiased.â
âSo letâs come around to the beginning. What is bullshit good for? What the filmmakers know about what they have made is its value, but apparently not the process by which it came into existence, or by which it could continue to thrive going forward. They know what they can get from it by killing it, but not what its life could continue to do. â
âLike Thanos, they have misunderstood the value of disorganized growth, of the commons, and of a wilderness where new things can happen that you didnât plan for. â
âInstead, they only seem to understand their property as a site to be mined of value as thoroughly as possible; they do not see that stories are the reason why value is valuable in the first place.â
âMost of all, Thanos is like the people making these twenty films: exhausted, over-burdened, and longing for the relief of peace and quiet. Can you imagine how exhausting it has been to make these films, and then to integrate them allâall these characters with all their different aesthetic textures, genres, and storiesâinto one single movie? No wonder the filmmakers killed their darlings by chewing and mashing and digesting them into a consistent narrative paste.â
âAnd so, this is the lesson of Infinity War: if this is how you think, this is what you get. If you build an entire movie around MacGuffins, the material embodiment of wanting, insufficiency, and lack; if you fill every beat and narrative space with the problem of those MacGuffins, leaving no space for anything else; if you crush every story down to the problem of how it relates to those MacGuffins; and most of all, if you find all the chatter and babble and noise to be tiresome, wearisome, and in need of organization, well, then this is what that will get you: a demonstration of why capitalists are bad farmers. They get it all backwards, and they donât know what you use organic matter for. â
âMacGuffins arenât the crop, theyâre the fertilizer; guff is the bullshit you put in the ground to make the plants grow. And if you think that shit is the thing that youâre growing in your garden, well, bon appetit! You are what you eatâ
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