A Brave New World
The Same Old Song and Dance
The Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has been in a precarious place lately. With the Infinity Saga in the rearview and audiences growing weary of half-baked multiversal shenanigans, the franchise has struggled to regain its footing. CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD should have been a turning point—a definitive statement on Sam Wilson’s tenure as the Star-Spangled Avenger. Instead, it’s a frustratingly directionless entry, weighed down by its obligation to past MCU storylines rather than forging its own legacy.
Directed by Julius Onah (THE CLOVERFIELD PARADOX) and co-written by [takes a deep breath] Onah, Rob Edwards, Malcolm Spellman, Dalan Musson, and Peter Glanz, BRAVE NEW WORLD leans heavily on political intrigue and grounded action, positioning itself as a spiritual successor to CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014). However, where that film delivered taut espionage thrills and sharp social commentary, BRAVE NEW WORLD feels unfocused, trading suspense for a series of scattered subplots.
Anthony Mackie (THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER) returns as high-flying Sam Wilson, who's officially taken up the mantle of Captain America. Following a meeting with newly elected U.S. President Thaddeus Ross (Harrison Ford), Sam finds himself embroiled in an international crisis. With the help of the new Falcon, Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez), Cap must uncover the motives behind a sinister global conspiracy before the true mastermind plunges the world into chaos.
Mackie remains a strong lead, balancing his character’s moral compass with the weight of stepping into Steve Rogers’ shadow. Yet, the film never fully allows him to own the role. Instead of a triumphant showcase that cements his place as Captain America, Sam often feels like a supporting player in his own movie. The narrative is bogged down by a subplot that awkwardly ties back to THE INCREDIBLE HULK (2008), making this entry feel less like CAPTAIN AMERICA 4 and more like a belated sequel to one of the MCU’s least-celebrated entries.
While the storytelling lacks depth, the action is well-executed, with hard-hitting hand-to-hand combat and dizzying aerial sequences, and the special effects used to bring Red Hulk to life are pretty impressive. Ford's great as Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross / Red Hulk, but turning the character into a sympathetic, tragic figure rings slightly hollow, given what we've seen him (previously played by William Hurt) do in past MCU films. The rest of the supporting cast—Giancarlo Esposito, Carl Lumbly, Shira Haas—adds some weight to the proceedings, but the film isn't bold enough to explore its own themes of patriotism, legacy, and race in America in any meaningful way.
BRAVE NEW WORLD isn’t bad — it’s entirely watchable and occasionally engaging, but Anthony Mackie's Sam Wilson deserves a defining cinematic moment, not a by-the-numbers chapter in a franchise struggling to redefine itself.
🍕 = 1 Star / 🥤= .5 Star
🍕🍕🍕🥤
I've spent the last [does the math] 17 years enjoying the MCU, and I enjoyed this movie too, but the Marvel Cinematic Universe — and the superhero genre as a whole — has lost its once-unshakable grip on the box office and pop culture. Why? A mix of factors has contributed to its decline.
After AVENGERS: ENDGAME, many fans felt their MCU journey was complete. With Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) gone, the stakes are lower, emotional investment has waned, and audience tastes are shifting toward fresh storytelling over endless franchise-building.
COVID-19 disrupted Marvel's momentum, delaying BLACK WIDOW, ETERNALS, and SHANG-CHI, while Chadwick Boseman's tragic passing forced a complete rework of BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER. The long gap between projects broke audience engagement, and when Marvel finally returned, it overwhelmed viewers with a massive content dump — four films and five Disney+ series in 2021 alone. This relentless output turned excitement into exhaustion. The MCU no longer feels like a cultural event — it feels like homework.
Making matters worse, Marvel's post-ENDGAME direction has been inconsistent, plagued by rewrites, shifting release dates, and changing creative plans. Unlike Thanos, who provided a clear, long-term threat that unified the Infinity Saga, the Multiverse Saga's supposed "big bad," Kang the Conqueror, suffered from weak execution in ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA. Actor Jonathan Majors' legal troubles further derailed Marvel's plans, forcing another course correction. Without a strong central villain or a cohesive vision, the MCU feels rudderless, making it harder for audiences to stay invested.
And then there's the problem of our current reality. I used to think that a great story could save the world — that people could aspire to be heroic figures in the face of encroaching darkness — but, despite the best efforts of Luke Skywalker, Frodo, Indiana Jones, Captain America, Black Panther, Superman, Wonder Woman, and countless other fictional heroes, we've let a corny comic book super-villain become the leader of the free world.
For centuries, stories have served as more than entertainment; they have been our teachers and moral compass. From ancient fables and morality plays to modern-day blockbusters, we have used storytelling to pass down wisdom and reinforce the idea that courage, sacrifice, and justice matter. Our favorite films and books attempt to show us that heroism is a choice and that standing against tyranny, even in the face of impossible odds, is the right thing to do.
But despite all these stories, despite the lessons woven into them by generations of storytellers, we've learned nothing. The world seems increasingly indifferent to the moral clarity these tales once provided. Perhaps we've become too cynical, jaded, or distracted to take their lessons to heart.
Clear-cut good and evil may feel outdated in an age of misinformation and moral relativism. And yet, the need for these stories—for heroes who remind us of who we should be — has never been greater. But maybe I'm just expecting too much from pop culture these days. Maybe it's time to get off the couch and do it ourselves.