Infinity War and Endgame have been hailed as two of the MCU’s most satisfying blockbusters. And emotionally, they are. But compared to the rest of the Marvel films, they also happen to be the least logically coherent.
Let’s think about them for more than five minutes and talk about a few things that make us raise an eyebrow. Besides Captain America’s ending, that is.
*Spoilers ahead.
THANOS’ ENTIRE PHILOSOPHY AND THE SILENCE AROUND IT
We don’t really need to go into detail why Thanos’ logic is wrong since many articles have been written on this subject already.
Malthusian economics, outdated and debunked. The problem with hunger and scarcity has never been a lack of resources, but distribution. The food is there, getting it to the people who need it is the bottleneck. Wiping out half the population without fixing distribution just gives you the same flawed systems with fewer people standing in line. And doubling the resources would hit the same wall.
Thanos operating on flawed logic isn’t the real issue. It could actually work as storytelling. Thanos proposed his “cut half the population” solution, was called a madman, and then watched his planet die. His entire crusade afterwards is a grief response at its core — a desperate, obsessive need to prove that his method would have worked.
But the tragedy only works if the narrative acknowledges it, if someone challenges it. But none of them really do.
The protagonist list at this point includes Doctor Strange, a man with an actual medical doctorate that presumably covers basic economic theories; Tony Stark, a genius engineer whose company is pioneering clean energy; Thor, who is from Asgard, a civilization millennia ahead of Earth in science and general cosmic understanding; T’Challa, the king of the most technologically advanced nation on the planet. And you know what, we don’t even need to reach that far — Peter Parker or any protagonist who has finished 10th grade should have something to say about Malthusian logic.
But apparently none of them ever tries “that’s not how scarcity works”. Not even as a joke. They challenge Thanos’ method, but never his logic.
The script just lets him walk around philosophizing and lets his theory hold its gravitas like some kind of universal truth. And the audience is supposed to think that he is, what, a tiny bit right?
LOKI AND HIS PAPER KNIFE DEATH
Loki, the God of Mischief. Master of deception, illusions, and survival instinct. And his final move against the most powerful being in the universe is to charge at him with a knife.
At this point, Thanos has just defeated Thor, overpowered Hulk, and acquired the Power Stone. He’s about to leave. And Loki, after a flimsy attempt to trick Thanos into recruiting him, decides that the correct play right now is a head-on assault with a blade. And then he dies performing the one tactic he has never been known for: straightforward honesty.
The emotional aspect of the scene is clear: Loki is finally being brave, finally showing his love for Thor through a last desperate act. And sure, the scene hits. But it also happens to be wildly out of character and slightly embarrassing. The god who once deceived both Laufey and Odin goes out not even trying to survive. It feels less like Loki being a hero and more like the script needing Loki off the board early, and choosing the fastest exit available.
DOCTOR STRANGE’S 14-MILLION-FUTURES “MASTERPLAN”
“How many did we win?”
“One.”
Pretty chilling. The implication is almost extraordinary: everything that follows is a chess move Doctor Strange makes in order to lead the protagonists towards the winning timeline. And every criticism about anything he does is certain to meet with “it’s the only way to win” from someone within the Marvel fandom.
But let’s look at what the “winning timeline” actually requires.
A random rat in a San Francisco warehouse wandering across the panel of Hank Pym’s Quantum Tunnel to bring Scott Lang back. Natasha and Clint being the pair that goes to Vormir. Thor running into his mother Frigga on Asgard in 2013, rather than his father or anyone else, so that he’d get the pep talk he needed while Rocket ambushes Jane Foster for the Aether. Tony Stark cracking time travel after looking at an old photo of himself and Peter Parker. So on and so on.
This is obviously a series of screenwriting conveniences, and let’s make this clear here: there is no problem with this. Strange grabs onto a winning scenario, takes a gamble, and does everything he could to steer the Avengers towards the winning timeline. But his influence on the timeline stops the second he is dusted. There is more than one way to win, and Tony Stark absolutely has other options besides sacrificing himself. His choice to snap his fingers to save the universe is a choice. Strange may have seen it, but he certainly did not lead Tony to it.
Strange’s “one” moment is emotionally impactful, and I rewatch the Titan sequence as often as the next person. But let’s not confuse a cool scene with an intelligent one. And let’s not pretend that Strange’s decisions on Titan somehow cause a rat to release Scott Lang five years later. To defend every criticism about plot holes and narrative inconsistency with “it’s the only way” — followed by a string of hypotheticals that have not happened — is doing the MCU’s writers’ homework for them.
And speaking of Tony’s sacrifice…
SOMETIMES A FINGER IS JUST A FINGER
So can we retire the theory that Doctor Strange’s one-finger gesture is a signal aimed at Tony?
It’s a neat and emotionally satisfying theory. The writers have even commented on it. But freedom of interpretation exists, so says Roland Barthes.
First of all, let’s look at the choreography. At the time Strange is positioned at the edge of the battlefield, holding back an ocean. Tony is in the center of the action, allies down, helmet off, mid-brawl with Thanos. The idea that in a moment of life-or-death, Tony would scan the massive field, locate Strange among the combatants, and clock a single raised index finger is a reach a tad too extreme.
Secondly, look at how the scene actually communicates. Strange’s face tells the audience that he knows what’s about to happen. Cut to Tony. Robert Downey Jr.’s face also tells us Tony knows what he has to do. The score swells, the camera lingers, every filmmaking tool available is being deployed to communicate the emotional beat. Not to mention that a few minutes before that, Strange and Tony already had an exchange about the “one timeline” where Strange states, “if I tell you what happens, it won’t happen”. So who is that raised finger actually for?
The MCU has trained audiences to extract meaning from every detail, and that’s fun. But sometimes, a finger is just a finger. Sometimes an actor’s hand gets cramps after long hours of filming.
And look, I might be wrong. Maybe Marvel writers really did think they needed to hold the audience’s hands through that scene, or maybe the theory was fan-based but got so beloved that Marvel writers jumped on board with it. Either way, there’s nothing wrong this this fun little interpretation. But to say that it’s non-negotiable canon is perhaps not exactly a compliment to the writing?
EVERYONE JUST STANDS AND WATCHES TONY DIE
Tony snaps his fingers. The stones work and also burn him on the spot. He collapses against a piece of spaceship debris. From that moment to his actual death is about two minutes, and during those two minutes, Rhodey finds Tony, then come Peter and Pepper. And the goodbye scene carries on.
Once again, the emotional side of it works. It’s a pay-off moment of a decade-long character arc. But it’s also a moment that requires you to forget that around Tony at the time are these people: Doctor Strange, emphasis on the “doctor”; Doctor Banner; Black Panther, advanced medical technology; Wanda, reality bender; Rhodey, a military officer who presumably has triage instinct. Just to name a few.
None of them even suggest that they try anything. FRIDAY’s “life functions critical” is all the confirmation they need to form a circle and stand in respectful silence as Tony dies.
Now, let’s make this clear: would any attempt to help have worked? Certainly not. The stones have done damage beyond repair. But the point is that these specific characters accept the situation without trying. I’m just saying, realistically, Steve Rogers… okay, he doesn’t have a lot to offer here, but he has his stubbornness. Look at that man’s history when it comes to protecting people he loves. Now’s the time for some of your unhinged ideas, Rogers.
They don’t need to make a scene, the moment doesn’t need to become melodramatic. But a quiet “hang on, I’m getting help” from any one of them would’ve elevated the realism of it while sticking to the Pietà atmosphere the writers obviously want.
ANYWAY
Still entertaining movies, still worth the popcorns. But Infinity War and Endgame do require you to turn off your brain for the majority of their runtime. And hey, the nostalgia and the emotional pay-off obviously did the job. Most of our brains were gloriously off-line, just like Rhodey’s triage reflexes.