Leading up to the release of the 21st installment in Marvel’s Cinematic Universe, I heard mixed things about Captain Marvel - and not just from the requisite band of reactionary trolls. It seemed that people were disappointed by the failure of Marvel’s first woman-led blockbuster to be as groundbreaking and complex as, say, Black Panther. I knew I was going to see it regardless, but I bought my ticket with my enthusiasm a little bit dampened.
Maybe low expectations were for the best, because I was very pleasantly surprised. Captain Marvel was, dare I say, a romp. Whatever your feelings about the lack of a deeply-explored backstory, the omission left room from the very first moment for one-against-five beatdowns, pew-pew lasers, and delightful buddy-cop chemistry between Brie Larson and Samuel L. Jackson. Marvel continues to refine its formula. While we’re all familiar with it by now, it’s by no means a bad formula, and Captain Marvel is the purest hit yet.
Instead of a more-traditional deep dive into the character’s origins and motivation, Carol Danvers begins the movie with amnesia, and we piece together her history alongside her through hints and flashes. This studied vagueness makes Carol’s story especially relatable - a surprising experience for me personally. (Is this how guys feel all the time when they go to superhero movies??) Watching Carol be shut down or shut out, and watching her stand back up over the years in that dramatic sequence from the trailer, was both moving and familiar. Every woman can fill in the details of that story. And here is a hero who knows that particular struggle and, by the end of the movie, gets to absolutely kick its teeth in.
This is a movie that plays to a feminine power fantasy. Not one constructed by the anxieties of men, in which a woman uses seduction or deceit to undermine masculinity; but a self-determined vision of female strength, rocking the grunge look I strove for as a child of the nineties. In short: yes please.