The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Premiere: Marvel’s Call of Duty
Photo Courtesy of Disney+
The opening sequence of Disney+’s latest post-Endgame Marvel Cinematic Universe TV series is a jargon-soaked murder montage. Within the first five minutes, we see a man’s neck snapped, someone shot through the head, a helicopter of people blown up, and more—all perpetrated by Sam (Anthony Mackie), a.k.a. Falcon, on behalf of the U.S. military. The actions are celebrated as a triumph, because he saved one of our own.
Despite the cinematic quality of this action set piece, which will no doubt thrill certain fans who missed that level of visceral destruction in WandaVision, this brutality is by far the least interesting thing that The Falcon and the Winter Soldier does in its first hour (or rather, 48 minutes, which is all that was provided in advance to critics).
Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), the former Winter Soldier, also gets a scene of him committing a point-blank execution for his intro, and yet, TFATWS (as it shall henceforth be known) almost immediately ports us to his current therapy session. He’s haunted by the atrocities he committed as the Winter Soldier, and is working on making amends. That takes different forms; in some cases, he shows up to terrify former associates before handing them over to the Department of Justice. In other cases, he quietly befriends those whose family members were affected by his sleeper-agent past.
The two Avenger frenemies don’t meet in the premiere, but it’s surely only a matter of time before they team up again. After all, there is a new anarchic group, the Flag Smashers, who think life was better during the Blip (i.e. when Thanos wiped out half the universe’s population), and want to return to a time of unity and open borders.
But again, this is all much less interesting than the fact that the Blip, for Sam and Bucky, acts as a kind of extended military tour of duty. Sam is trying to reconnect with his widowed sister and her sons, and save his family’s fishing business. When they go to apply for a loan, there’s a cheeky reference to “how do [the Avengers] make money?” with no good answer. “Isn’t there some kind of Hero’s Fund?” the loan officer asks. This and the general hesitation for the loan to be approved feels like a not-so-coded reference to very real issues and biases faced by veterans, especially BIPOC veterans. Meanwhile, Bucky’s issues are largely internal. He isn’t in financial trouble, but he has no friends or family. When his therapist tells him that he’s free now, he answers “to do what?” He’s 106 years old, has no history and no life, and finds the modern world overwhelming and alienating.