Review
Culture
Film & TV
5 min read

Captain America's impossible task

Brave New World struggles despite some acting heroics.
Captain America crouches expectantly beside his shield
Ready for the next review.
Marvel Studios.

Captain America: Brave New World is the thirty-fifth film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), and the fourth film focusing on the character of Captain America. It’s also something of a sequel to a passible Marvel TV series. There is so much baggage, so much lore, so much build-up to this film; a production which has the unhappy task of honouring the seventeen years of previous storytelling, setting up plot points that can be explored in future films, and giving us a satisfactory stand-alone cinematic spectacle. I wouldn’t wish such a burden on anyone – an impossible task. 

Brave New World sees Sam Wilson fully inhabiting the role of superhero Captain America, a mantle bestowed on him by his friend and original Captain, super soldier Steve Rogers. Still doubtful of his worthiness and abilities, he seeks to wield the Vibranium Shield with style. He is sent on a mission to retrieve a stolen military secret from a group of mercenaries. He does so – with a few decent action set pieces – and is rewarded with an invitation to the White House.  

The newly elected President, General Thaddeus ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross, is seeking to shed his past reputation as a warmonger by negotiating an international peace treaty. A newly discovered resource has the capability of changing the face of medicine, technological innovation, and especially warfare. Every great power covets it, and Ross wants to foster collaboration for the betterment of the planet. The gala event is ruined when Sam’s friend Isaiah Bradley, a super soldier from the Koren War who was wrongly imprisoned, goes all Manchurian Candidate and shoots at the President. 

The peace treaty is in jeopardy. The President’s inner circle is compromised. There are secrets and lies that will not stay buried. There is a shadowy villain operating behind the scenes, determined to destroy the President’s reputation. Only one man can fight for truth, justice, and the American way: Captain America. 

This is as much as I can say without spoiling the entire film. 

Not that it would matter. The film is a bit of a mess.  

Sam is proposed as an underdog (having not actual superpowers, only a suit of armour), but is shown to be essentially indestructible…he literally disables a missile by flying into it headfirst. There is no sense of tension or risk. This is not helped by lacklustre action and some genuinely appalling CGI. The plot is all over the place – a result of some rather obvious reshoots featuring green screen that even the most amateur filmmaker could’ve improved. Most of the secondary storylines peter out. New characters and introduced and given almost no personality or progression. 

The script compensates for this by giving characters long monologues where they deliver clunky plot exposition and background information. This was inevitable. To understand the plot and characters requires one to have been a careful watcher of the previous films and television shows. I was somewhat impressed how the film managed to give a gentle introduction to the casual viewer, but it is very much at the expense of pacing and character development. 

All of this is a great shame, as the performances are rather good. Anthony Mackie has always been a magnetic screen presence and manages to combine both charisma and pathos is an uncharacteristically restrained performance. Tim Blake Nelson enjoys himself as the puppet-master villain, oozing bile and sympathy in equal measure. Every minor friend and villain delivers their lines with real feeling. Bloody hell…even lovable grump Harrison Ford looks like he’s actually trying as President Ross. 

Unfortunately, no amount of charisma can make up for a film that has no sense of itself. The shambles of a plot is matched by the shambles of a theme; a sadness, as there is so much potential. Sam Wilson is one of only a handful of black superheroes, and his friendship with Isaiah Bradley is partly based on their shared experience of race and discrimination in the face of honour and duty. This was introduced in the TV show and could’ve been explored further. Sam’s lack of superpowers could have been explored, had he been put in positions of genuine peril. His sense of inadequacy and overwhelming responsibility are mentioned, only to be quickly dismissed with a pep-talk from a throwaway cameo character. The concepts of conspiracy and disillusionment with authority are hinted at, but they formed the thematic thread of the previous three Captain America films, and when this film does approach them, it is by echoing the better storytelling of previous films. 

There is one plot thread, one theme running through the story, which goes some way to redeeming the film. President Ross is haunted by his past. A patriot, a soldier, and tireless worker for American security, Ross has a past littered with sins and mistakes. His anger, his bullishness, his obstinacy (physically manifested at the end of the film), has left him all alone. His daughter doesn’t trust him, Sam doesn’t trust him, and his international partners don’t trust him. He is seeking to become a better man, working towards cooperation rather than force and violence. However, his past life and secrets continue haunt him and stall his progress at self-improvement. 

In the end, by being open and honest and taking responsibility for his mistakes, Ross does achieve a certain amount of peace. He is able to be the figure of nobility and unity that he longs to be by sacrificing his power and prestige, and truly atoning for his misdeeds. Despite all the problems with the film, this (admittedly underdeveloped) bit of character study kept me engaged. Perhaps it was Harrison Ford’s performance. Perhaps it was because we’re approaching Lent, when Christians make an extra effort to acknowledge their past mistakes and resolve to do better. Whatever it was, it furnished the film with a truly sympathetic and improving theme. I wouldn’t spend money in the cinema, but wouldn’t mind seeing it in the TV guide in the future. 

2.5 stars. 

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Article
Comment
Ethics
Fashion
Race
5 min read

Anna Wintour is not a moral compass

The Vogue editor’s championing of diversity is all very well, but it’s based on what sells
Anna  Wintour stands holding a small mic.
Anna Wintour.
UKinUSA, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Last month, the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York launched a new exhibition. “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” highlights the history of Black people resisting white supremacy through their sartorial choices. A few weeks after it opened, the 2025 Met Gala, which serves to raise funds for the Costume Institute, was chaired by Black voices across the creative industries, including A$AP Rocky, Pharrell Williams, Lewis Hamilton, Coleman Domingo and Lebron James. The exhibition has already received rave reviews from Black writers and academics, likely in part due to its co-curation by Monica Miller, who literally wrote the book on the subject Slaves to Fashion: Black Dandyism and the Styling of Black Diasporic Identity

Concurrently, a few hours south of New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art in Washington DC, Donald Trump was calling Diversity and Inclusion initiatives “dangerous, demeaning and immoral.” A series of policies rolled out across the US federal government has led to the shutdown of not only diversity programmes, but a quiet disappearance of wording and other initiatives that might be interpreted as promoting similar themes. 

But the Costume Institute, which does not receive any federal funding, is uniquely free to follow Anna Wintour’s steer. And Wintour, Conde Nast’s Chief Content Officer and Editor in Chief of Vogue, is fighting back. “I feel we need to be courageous”, she told the Washington Post last month. Now, she added, is “a challenging time”.

Until now, Wintour has been an unlikely activist. Vogue has long been criticised for a range of ethical issues that include,  including lack of diversity, promotion of unhealthy body standards, and the sexualisation of young women. But are the magazine and Wintour now our bastion for future hopes of racial justice and equality?

In 2020, many of my friends and family ordered books and listened frantically to podcasts about race in America because of the events surrounding George Floyd’s death. In May 2020, a video circulated of officer Derek Chauvin suffocating George Floyd as he called out for his mother, leading to a flurry of protests and debates about the racial bias present in institutions. 

In those days, learning about the systematic injustice faced by Black Americans and calling for change felt popular. Everyone was doing it. Books like The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander, Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge, The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein, and How to be an Anti-Racist by Ibram X. Kendi filled our Amazon carts and library holds. 

These days, many of those books have quietly disappeared from the shelves. For sure, there are those who continue to fight for racial equality. But the winds have changed, with some companies - like Conde Nast - landing on one side, while Google, Meta and Amazon disappear from the horizon. 

It’s easier to flip through beautiful images and call it a day, than to be a part of real, diverse communities.

It might seem obvious that brands are not the best source for our moral formation. But the fact is that many of them see themselves as culture-forming and mission-driven. If you don’t have something else to help form your idea of what the world should look like, why not Vogue, with its picture-perfect editorials, or Google, with its future-facing innovations? 

For me, my beliefs in diversity and racial justice come from something stronger: my Christian faith and the many Black men and women globally who share this faith with me. It was my reading of Black Liberation theologian James Cone that first showed me the depths of beauty I could gain by understanding my faith through someone else’s perspective. Cone was famous for his book which drew parallels between Jesus’s death on the cross by Roman crucifixion, and the deaths of many Black men by lynching in the American South. Cone stopped me in my tracks, making me rethink a key symbol of my faith. He said this: 

“The cross has been transformed into a harmless, non-offensive ornament that Christians wear around their necks. Rather than reminding us of the “cost of discipleship,” it has become a form of “cheap grace,” an easy way to salvation that doesn’t force us to confront the power of Christ’s message and mission. Until we can see the cross and the lynching tree together, until we can identify Christ with a “recrucified” black body hanging from a lynching tree, there can be no genuine understanding of Christian identity in America, and no deliverance from the brutal legacy of slavery and white supremacy.”

It won’t make it into a Vogue editorial anytime soon– but maybe that’s the point. 

A faith-based belief in justice comes with challenges. It can feel tiring to face a troubled history of racism in a religious institution. Existing in diverse, faith-based communities brings everything from awkward cultural differences to true and genuine disagreements. The global Anglican communion faces tension between white, liberal progressives in the UK who want to celebrate gay marriage in the Church of England, and an assemblage of Christians of colour in the Global South who maintain strong convictions about traditional views of marriage and gender. Our faith in Christ is the anchor that holds us together. But these are real disagreements; they’re not trivial, and there’s no easy way forward. 

It’s easier to flip through beautiful images and call it a day, than to be a part of real, diverse communities. And this is why we can’t rely on people like Anna Wintour to form our vision for the future. As nice and important as it is to promote diversity in models, photographers, and designers, ultimately Vogue will be shaped by what its editors and publishers think will sell on the newsstand.  

This is my plea for us all. Let’s not let the shifting tides of any company– Meta or Vogue– decide our ethical convictions towards justice. Let’s rely on something stronger.

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