[Filling the Space is a flexible column where our writers could vent, deconstruct, and work their way around the emotions brought on by TV, films, books, music, and key moments in pop culture. This isn’t meant to be analytical, but instead, a means of bringing our voice into a space on the internet where there’s often too much going on—a way to step into the sphere.]
Since Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame ended, I’ve had severe Marvel/superhero fatigue. Outside of Spider-Man: No Way Home, I haven’t felt as invested in the universe, often dragging my feet to the theater because my head is just not in it the way that it used to be. So imagine my surprise when my brain decided out of the blue that we just had to rewatch the two films back to back for the first time in four years.
I’m happy to admit that both films still hit as hard as they did the first time. (Ask my friends who have countless Marco Polo videos of me sobbing to various scenes.) Still, there are also facets of the film that I’m not quite sold on, either. I tried to bargain and reason with Tony Stark dying instead of Steve Rogers, and it just doesn’t fit the narrative. And before anyone decides to throw stones, let it be known that despite my hatred of team discourse, I will always be, first and foremost, a Steve Rogers girl at heart. He’ll always be my number one in this silly little universe. But Tony Stark should’ve survived.
For years, Steve Rogers has been a man out of time. As much as he tries to fit in, he consistently struggles to belong. So, I’m not someone who’s shocked by what Steve does in the end because it works for him. It’s in character. (I also have to tell myself that with the existence of convoluted multi-verses, this isn’t the same Peggy that also gets her endgame with Agent Carter’s Daniel Sousa.) I also have to choose to believe that Steve knows he’s running out of time, too. He’s fulfilled his life’s prophesy.
But Tony Stark? His life was just getting started. He didn’t need to sacrifice himself. This shouldn’t have been his only way of resting. And as someone who lost her father, the more I think about Tony’s death, the more I loathe it. I have friends who are bigger fans of his and understand the reasoning better than I do. It’s personal for me; I get it. But I stand by my opinion. Morgan Stark deserves to eat cheeseburgers and have juice pops at midnight with both her parents. The most frustrating part of all this is that most fans went in believing that Steve would die. He’d make the sacrifice, and he’d be the one to go. It should’ve been him.
So, it begs the question of whether writers subverted expectations because we all expected that or that they genuinely believed Tony still had to redeem himself. Either way, it’s a choice I’ll never understand or be okay with. At one point, I had convinced myself it was meant to be, but after yet another rewatch, I’m certain it should’ve never happened.
As much as I adore both Infinity War and Endgame, the only way I could watch them now is by fully skipping those scenes with Tony dying because if I don’t see it, then it didn’t happen. He’s at his lake house currently; there’s sunshine in the air, his hair is greyer, and maybe there’s another kid on the way—it’s a happy ending. It’s what he deserves.