The Avengers has always been “my” comic book. When I was a kid and first started reading comics, that was the title I subscribed to, for the very reasons Stan and Jack created it — I wanted to get several superheroes for the price of one. (Plus, She-Hulk was one of the headliners then, and she’s pretty fabulous.)
When I started reading comics again as an adult, I also started with The Avengers, coincidentally starting their new golden age under the pen of Brian Bendis the very week I wandered back into the comic book store. Under Bendis, The Avengers was as much about the soap opera dynamics of a group of strong personalities working and living together as it was about the pow and the smash and the boom, and that was just fine by me.
So I’m thrilled to report that I loved the movie. But I have some lingering thoughts.
Here be spoilers.
First, wouldn’t Felicity Huffman make a fabulous Carol Danvers (aka Ms. Marvel)?
Second, I’m not convinced that Agent Coulson is dead. Were I the architect of the Marvel movie universe, Coulson would be the secret identity of Captain Marvel; this death would be faked, and the big reveal would come in the next film when Thanos is unveiled as the big bad. If you see the film again, pay attention not only to the length of his death scene (does anyone really hang on that long, that coherently, with a spear through the chest?) and to the ways Fury talks about him being dead. The word “dead” is fastidiously avoided. Just sayin’.
Third, I’m not convinced the cellist referred to throughout the film as Coulson’s lover is female. You’ll note that pronouns are never used. And does he act like best girlfriends with Pepper Pots?
Also, if you didn’t stay to the very end, for the post-credits scene in the schwarma joint, you missed one of the best beasts in superhero filmmaking history. Ruffalo not being able to keep a straight face only made it better.