The human heart of the Guardians of the Galaxy

MPAA Rating: PG-13
CNS Rating: A-III
Reel Rating: 5 out of 5 reels

Disclaimer: Contains spoilers!

The Guardians series has always been the weird cousin of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). Largely unknown outside the circle of their niche fans when Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 1 premiered in 2014, this motley crew quickly captured audiences with their silly sense of humor, cool fighting styles, and unapologetic friendship.

Vol. 3 is easily the best of the trilogy. Equally fun as it is heartbreaking, this film proves the superhero genre is not, as Martin Scorsese surmised, merely “theme park entertainment.”

The Guardians have cooled down a bit from their tussle with Ego in their last outing, setting up shop in the decaying celestial head of Knowhere and hiring themselves out as intergalactic samurai to defend the weak. Suddenly, Adam (Will Poulter)—a golden metahuman who is alternatively vicious and childlike—breaks through their defenses and mortally wounds Rocket (Bradley Cooper). While attempting to revive him, the Guardians discover Rocket has a kill switch around his heart that will activate if they attempt an operation.

This begins an Orphean journey into Rocket’s past, in which they discover a mad scientist called the High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji). He has created numerous species and worlds (including Adam’s society) in a quest to create a utopia in his image. And Rocket, one of his former projects, holds a secret key to fulfilling this dream. Of course, that means harvesting his brain, which the Guardians are firmly against.

The audience knew from previous entries that Rocket—who appears as an anthropomorphic, wise-cracking raccoon—was some sort of experiment, but he was always hesitant to reveal the details of his origins. Now we know why. He was created as specimen #89P13 in a nightmarish lab of Frankenstein-ish creatures, including a walrus with wheels for legs and a creepy robot spider rabbit. Their cages are cramped, dark, and filled with feces. Despite this, he makes friends, especially with Lylla (Linda Cardellini), an otter with cybernetic arms. It was her cruel execution that propelled Rocket to escape and start a life of crime.

Many critics have interpreted this as a commentary on animal cruelty; PETA, surprising no one, gives the film a very positive review. However, this misses a fundamental point. These are people, not animals. Like Lewis’ Narnia, this is a universe that has non-human persons as well as animals. Thus, the High Evolutionary’s philosophy is one of eugenics, transhumanism, and a misanthropic disregard for life, all with a modern twist. His emphasis on replacing body parts with the goal of improving life, combined with his legions of child prisoners, reeks of the contemporary conversation on transgenderism, especially the horrifying insistence on drugs and surgeries for minors.

Could a mainstream Hollywood film, owned by Disney, go against the stream as parable for bodily integrity? (Perhaps that walrus wasn’t an accident!)

Early in Rocket’s life, the High Evolutionary showed him a machine that could speed evolution but also made people unusually violent. Rocket, then only a child, noticed a problem in the machine’s mechanisms that was overlooked. Despite thousands of trails, the High Evolutionary had never been able to replicate Rocket’s independent problem solving. Why? And why could Rocket see past his conditioning?

As a fundamentalist materialist, High Evolutionary is convinced the answer must be neurological. Yet, the real answer is in his soul. Rocket made friends with Lylla. He cared for someone, and that is what made the difference. It is this friendship between misfits that propels the success of the franchise. These scoundrels constantly jab, prank, and nag one another—but that’s what best friends do. The whole film is centered around the Guardians crisscrossing the galaxy and constantly endangering their lives, all to save their friend.

The “playing God” motif has waned quite a bit in recent decades as less people believe in God and more put their faith in science (or, often, scientism), so Vol. 3 is a nice return to form. At one point, the High Evolutionary yells to his minions that “there is no God, that’s why I stepped in.” Yet the High Evolutionary is not truly a creator, only a treacherous tinkerer. He does not create life; he only distorts what God has already brought into the existence.

“You didn’t want to make a perfect world,” Rocket challenges him. “You just hated what was already here.” Yet the true God does make a very brief appearance. As Rocket nears death, his deceased friend Lylla appears to him. He breaks down, expressing his deep existential despair. “Look at us,” he cries, “He created us this way.” Lylla smiles and tenderly speaks the greatest line of 2023: “No. There are the hands that made us, and there are the hands that guide the hands. We meet again, but not now.”

Besides thematic material, Vol. 3, like its predecessors, is simply a ton of fun. The action is amazing, the dialogue is hilarious, and the new characters are fantastic. My favorite is Cosmo (Maria Bakalova), a Soviet era space dog with telekinetic powers who just wants people to be “a good dog.”

It is debatable whether Vol. 3 is the best MCU film overall, but it certainly is the most profound and one of the most entertaining. On second thought…yes, it is the best.