Avengers: Endgame — Back Where the Dream Began

Avengers: Endgame — Back Where the Dream Began

Whenever I watch stories about superheroes, I’m reminded of a little Chinese joke: there are so many superheroes from the United States, so is there a quick way to create superheroes of our own in China? The answer, supposedly, is yes—just add a grand-sounding prefix to the American superhero’s name, and instantly you have a Chinese hero. Iron Hero, Bat Hero, Spider Hero, Captain America becomes something like Captain Greater America, Captain Marvel becomes Captain Greater Marvel, Superman becomes Super-Guy, Hulk becomes Giant Green Guy… and so on.

For the vast community of Marvel fans, Avengers: Endgame brings this phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe to a satisfying close. From the moment it premiered, nearly everyone writing about it seemed to be expressing nostalgia and remembrance, or drawing all kinds of inspiration about entrepreneurship and management from Marvel’s long and difficult path of transformation. What was especially striking was the extraordinary tacit understanding among viewers: there were almost no malicious spoilers anywhere. That alone says a great deal about how deeply Marvel fans cherish this series. Before the film’s release, some thoughtful fans even edited together all 21 previous MCU films into a short but complete recap, so that viewers who hadn’t seen the whole series—aside from the most die-hard fans, I imagine most people hadn’t—could still participate in a film so steeped in nostalgia. For Marvel, Avengers: Endgame marks the end of this chapter of the cinematic universe. Like a cycle coming full circle, it returns to the place where the dream began.

Back then, when Tony Stark said, “I am Iron Man,” the movie world had simply gained a new superhero—one audiences could both love and hate. From that point on, among the two great camps of Marvel and DC, superheroes who “the rich rely on technology, the poor rely on mutation” began to appear one after another. In those early years, I didn’t realize that superheroes belonged to different camps. I knew little about American comics and had no idea these superheroes had their own “work units,” so to speak, split between two different companies, Marvel and DC. I knew even less that the relationships among them could be so tightly interwoven. Iron Man, Hulk, Batman, Spider-Man, Superman, Captain America, Wonder Woman… every superhero seemed to live in a separate parallel world. Though most of them were American, they might as well have heard each other’s dogs bark without ever crossing paths. It wasn’t until The Avengers burst onto the scene that the world suddenly made sense. Only then did I realize that seemingly similar figures like Batman and Iron Man actually lived in parallel universes owned by different companies, with no overlap at all, while Captain America, an ordinary human, and the gods of Asgard could somehow drop by each other’s worlds within the Marvel universe.

Among Marvel’s three central heroes—Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor—I personally favor Iron Man most, perhaps because I’m drawn to faith in technology. As for Thor, being a god of Asgard, he contributes not only combat power but also comic relief to the Avengers, taking on many of the funniest moments. He truly is the god closest to ordinary people, and that makes him easy to love from the heart. By contrast, among the relatively small number of Marvel films I missed, I skipped all three Captain America movies, only connecting the full arc of the story right before Endgame came out. That had nothing to do with the story or the character itself. I think perhaps, on a subconscious level, the name “Captain America” felt too politically loaded to me. If Wu Jing were renamed “Captain China,” I’d probably feel the same kind of resistance. But now that this phase of the Marvel saga has come to an end, I’ve found myself adding Captain America, Guardians of the Galaxy, and Doctor Strange to my watchlist. After all, that dance in Avengers: Endgame—the one that came after a 70-year wait—is reason enough to go back and savor Captain America’s story.

Any technical review feels beside the point. The meaning of Avengers: Endgame has long surpassed that of an ordinary film. Of course the story itself is wonderfully told, but for Marvel fans, those moving moments of looking back are what truly bring tears to the eyes. Any criticism claiming that “a movie that stirs emotions through nostalgia is not a good movie” probably doesn’t come from Marvel fans. If a film series can move audiences through emotion alone, that is already a tremendous success. And if we set aside those very standards, how are we supposed to judge what counts as “good” or “bad”? A film that cannot move people’s hearts is not a good film; conversely, one that can is. That seems like a reasonable standard to me. In the flashback scenes, we see the heroes’ first gathering, the mischievous Loki, Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D., the magnificent Asgard, and long-missed loved ones. If we ever had the chance to return to one moment from the memories that haunt our hearts—even for just one minute—it would be unimaginably precious.

Some say that every story in the world is ultimately about the weak overcoming the strong. Throughout history, overwhelming domination by brute power has never become the kind of story wandering singers pass down in song. What people remember are those who, through their own efforts, defeat someone stronger than themselves. The same is true in The Avengers and in superhero stories as a whole. So-called superheroes are not invincible or all-powerful. The difficulties and challenges they face always exceed the limits of their own abilities. To achieve final victory, their personal powers are never enough. What they rely on is not merely strength, but unyielding courage, the resolve to sacrifice the self for something greater, trust in one another as a team, and creative thought and wisdom. Supporting all of these spiritual strengths is the most important person or thing in their hearts—the one they are determined to protect. In that sense, what defines superheroes is not their dazzling abilities, but their fearless spirit. And when an ordinary person possesses that same willingness to sacrifice for others, that person too is a true superhero.

This chapter of the story began with Tony Stark’s declaration, “I am Iron Man,” and it ends with the same words. Whether for Marvel or for its fans, after more than a decade, the cycle seems to have brought us back to where the dream began, waiting for the next journey to start. But in our own lives, we are granted only a handful of decades. Ahead lies only the future pressing forward relentlessly; there is no way back, not even for a single moment, into the past. In facing life, each of us also has our own unique skills. In the face of fate, which will ultimately destroy everything, you are your own superhero.