Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Captain America’s Entrance in ‘Avengers: Infinity War’ Is a Religious Experience
By Brett White @brettwhite
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:00pm

I expected to feel a lot of things during Avengers: Infinity War. I expected excitement, I expected to feel terror and joy, I even expected to feel dread. I did not, however, expect to feel like I’d been taken to church–but I did. Totally out of nowhere, one moment in this massive Marvel movie made my movie theater feel like an ideal place of worship, a warm and welcome shelter where I–where everyone in that theater–felt safe. Such is the power of this movie, such is the power of Chris Evans.

The moment comes 40 minutes in, as Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) and Vision (Paul Bettany) are hunted by two of Thanos’ horrifically powerful underlings, Proxima Midnight (voiced by Carrie Coon) and Corvus Glaive (voiced by Michael Shaw). Despite their best efforts, efforts that deliver plenty of fist-pumping moments, the immensely powerful “witch” and the super strong android get cornered by the alien warriors. Vision’s been skewered by Corvus’ staff, leaving only a bruised but still determined Wanda Maximoff ready to make a final stand in this Scotland train station to protect her man. But still, it’s two against one, and Wanda barely held her own against Proxima. Things don’t look good.

And then a train passes behind her, and Proxima takes subtle note of a shadowy figure flickering in-between the passing cars. A silhouette facing front, boots planted, fists clenched, unyielding. Proxima chucks her high-tech alien skewer-staff at the figure, who dodges and catches it instinctively. And then, the reveal, as the percussive opening strings of the Avengers movie theme hit.

Enter: Captain America. Vision, through the bars of the train track’s railing, curls up his lip slightly into a smile. Scarlet Witch, looking over her shoulder, breathes a sigh of relief. Proxima Midnight has no idea what she’s up against.

This moment, right here, took my theater to church. The relief, the rapturous applause, all because a bearded Captain America stepped out of the shadows. This moment and that reaction, my reaction, are a testament to two things. First, directors Joe and Anthony Russo wasted zero seconds setting up the stakes in Infinity War. You start off with the slaughter of Asgardians, including the formidable Heimdall and Loki. Then the other half of Thanos’ squad, Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian, make short work of Doctor Strange, Spider-Man, and Iron Man. Then we see Proxima and Corvus best the two most powerful Avengers, Vision and Scarlet Witch. At this point in the film, it feels like the villains could actually kill anyone. There is a danger here, unlike in any previous Marvel films.

Second, this moment speaks to the power of Chris Evans, whose career will forever be defined by this one role–a role that he has also taken on in real life. That’s because Evans has done the impossible with Captain America, conquering similar obstacles faced by every actor to play Superman: he took a squeaky clean boy scout character, the ultimate do-gooder, and made him feel legitimately larger than any movie or scene he’s in. When you think about it, Steve Rogers doesn’t do much in Infinity War. He gets under seven minutes of screen time in this crowded film, but you can see Evans carrying the weight of every one of Steve Rogers’ choices in those few moments.

So this moment, when Evans steps out of the shadows to rescue his friends from a pair of monstrous marauders, it’s the exhilarating and cathartic culmination of both of those things. The stakes are relentlessly high, and Infinity War’s pace is such that you actually forget you haven’t seen Captain America yet. And when you do see Captain America, you’re once again seeing the noblest hero in modern pop culture–and Evans sells it. You suddenly feel, in this immersive movie experience, safe. In that way, this moment is an achievement superhero filmmaking that is unparalleled. This is the intense feeling that these movies strive for, and I’d argue that this moment–a moment that could only come after spending so many movies with Evans’ ever-deepening portrayal of the character–is the first time a superhero movie achieved it.

And I would be remiss to not mention what immediately follows Proxima Midnight’s curious look. She gets kicked in the face by a flying Falcon (Anthony Mackie), and then Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) runs full-speed into the fray, catching the spear/skewer Cap throws her way and immediately drives it through Corvus’ gut. The three of them absolutely wreck Thanos’ underlings, two villains who just had two god-like superheroes backed in a corner. After the one-two-three punch of Cap, Widow, and Falcon, Proxima is left scurrying away like a rat.

Beyond Cap’s entrance, this entire sequence is euphoric. In a weird yet real way, this is the “hell yeah, humanity!” portion of the film, as Black Widow and Falcon are just normal humans with intense training and some fancy weapons. Steve, a literal super soldier, is the only one with powers, but we’ve seen time and time again that his real superpower is his unwavering, unrelenting humanity. He is a super human in every sense of that word, even if he lacked physical enhancement. Captain America bringing righteous justice to these aliens bent on cosmic genocide, backed up by two humans with tricks up their sleeves, it… this is crazy, but it makes me feel good about humanity.

Beyond being exciting entertainment, this is what these movies are supposed to do. They’re supposed to be fables, fantastical stories with larger-than-life metaphors, feelings that should inspire us in our way less action-packed day to day lives. Captain America as portrayed as Chris Evans, with the moral strength and bottomless empathy and compassion, has become the embodiment of not only the American ideal, but the human ideal. And you feel every bit of that when he steps out of the shadows and into the light.