howtoearnmney

n the world of comics, superheroes don’t get to end. Sometimes they die and sometimes they get retconned out of existence but at this point, suspension of disbelief is impossible. We know they’ll be back, often within a calendar year. Individual stories, arcs, and crossovers may reach their own conclusions but the characters will always live on. There is always the next issue.

There’s much to be said about what comics can do that television and film can’t, but there’s plenty the screen allows for that comics don’t. Beyond movement, beyond actors bringing life to written word, the adventures of superheroes on screens have the unique opportunity for finality. Often a cinematic superhero’s ending is the result of a reboot or cancellation of a series rather than an intentional choice by the director. And even in the few instances characters do get those intentional endings like in Nolan’s Dark Knighttrilogy, there’s almost always a new Batman or Wolverine on the horizon shortly after. But a planned ending, one with real intent and finality, is rare. And that’s a shame because when you do ‘em right, endings are everything. Endings elevate stories and bring resolution to character arcs. They allow the audience to fully comprehend what the story they’ve been following is all about. And they allow them the chance to say goodbye.

This year I said goodbye to Tony Stark.

Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) in ‘Avengers: Endgame’ (Photo Credit: Marvel Studios)

I don’t know what 16-year-old me expected when his mom dropped him off at the movie theater in May of 2008. I know he’d heard this new Iron Man movie was shockingly good, but his The Dark Knight tunnel vision had consumed his movie hype quota for the summer. Nonetheless, going to the movies on Friday nights was this kid’s go-to move. See, he didn’t have a ton of friends, largely thanks to having that all-too-common problem of always saying too much or not enough, and in either case whatever was said was never the right thing. He played in a few crappy punk bands, read comics, and watched movies. Maybe you’ve heard that story before.

I still remember what it was like seeing the first couple of minutes of Iron Man for the first time. From the AC/DC needle drop to, “Please, no gang signs.” to the explosion that disrupts his deliberate banter, I knew I loved Tony Stark. More specifically, I knew I loved Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark.

We so often look to superheroes as aspirational figures and in Iron Man I’d finally found one that spoke to me in a way one never had. Here was this guy who was unquestionably cool, who always knew what to say, and whose greatest asset was his boundless creativity.

Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) in ‘Iron Man’ (Photo Credit: Marvel Studios)

I didn’t dive into weapons manufacturing or decide I wanted to major in engineering when I graduated or anything, but by the time Iron Man 2 dropped in 2010 I was a high school graduate who finally felt a little more comfortable in social spaces, thanks in part to spinning an Iron Man DVD on repeat for two years straight and studying its main character. But having an index of quips at the ready and getting a little more comfortable in my body didn’t fix everything. It’s one of the central themes of that movie, actually. Tony’s persona — the one I’d latched onto as aspirational a mere two years before — was now so clearly a coping mechanism, a means of control over insecurity, anxiety, and fear. He’s only capable of growth — and of being a hero again — after embracing introspection.

I wish I could say I learned that lesson immediately after seeing the movie but it took a little bit longer to take for me. Through my first two years out of high school I used those same tools — humor, flirtation, and self-aggrandizing — to deflect, to avoid silence, to avoid being alone. I’d become an introvert out of habit as a kid but as a young adult I was growing into, and quickly not knowing how to manage, my newfound extroversion. It quickly gave way to bad habits.

It feels appropriate, then, that Tony re-centers himself in Iron Man 2 by getting back to what he does best: creating (please don’t read this as a defense of synthesizing a new element as a plot point, it is still incredibly weird nine years later). I settled into my life at college and poured myself into school (even the classes I didn’t love) and writing. In March of 2013 that hard work started to pay off in the form of an internship at, of all places, Marvel. By the time spring rolled around I had finally found a reliable, healthy friend group around whom I never had to put up a front or keep at bay with projections of ego. One of the most memorable nights I spent with them was the night Iron Man 3came out.

Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) in ‘Iron Man 3’ (Photo Credit: Marvel Studios)

That was the night I saw my favorite onscreen superhero not as an aspirational figure but as a reflection of myself. Maybe he had been that the whole time but this was the first time I was mature enough to recognize this in the moment. Seeing a film directly take on Tony Stark’s neuroses, anxieties, and traumas and do so by stripping him bare of his literal and figurative armor, challenging him to remember who he is and what he’s worth shook me to my core — in the best way. By the time the film triumphantly concludes, Tony has recognized that his identity isn’t bound to a high-tech metal suit. He is Iron Man, armor or not.

I could go on. I could talk about how The Avengers came out during the loneliest time of my life and encouraged me to remember that even Tony Stark needed friends, or how Age of Ultron, the film in which Tony leaves the Avengers, came out the summer I was supposed to graduate college (only for me to have to come back for one final semester the summer that Civil War came out, a semester that led to some messy friendship splits). But I think I’ve made my point.

We often latch onto fictional characters because they provide for us something we don’t have in real life — role models, gods, siblings, even parents. And while it’s vital to acknowledge that the Marvel characters we all love have been around for quite some time, these particular cinematic incarnations have been a steadfast presence in my generation. For a whole lot of people these are these characters. The definitive Captain America for so many of us isn’t Ed Brubaker’s or Jack Kirby’s or Mark Gruenwald’s. It’s Chris Evans. And there may not be a single character for whom this is more true than Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark.

Chris Evans as Steve Rogers in ‘Avengers: Endgame’ (Photo Credit: Marvel Studios)

These characters have been with us for most of our young lives, following us through youth into something resembling adulthood. As we’ve struggled to grow, to find our place in the terrifying and at times enthralling world of the 21st century, we’ve been able to turn to them when we needed someone to look up to or just someone to show us that we’re not alone, that our imperfections don’t demonize us — that, rather, they are what we make them. They’ve been with us for years, some even over a decade. We’ve watched them grow and they’ve helped us do the same alongside them.

Now it’s time to say goodbye.

And yeah, that’s hard. It sucks, not gonna lie. For all of the exhaustion and cynicism that can grow inside of you after professionally writing about pop culture for an extensive period, I’m going to miss Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark in a way I’ve never missed a character before. But I’m gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.

‘Avengers: Endgame” (Photo Credit: Marvel Studios)

Listen, I hate talking whimsically about storytelling decisions that are ultimately made by movie studios and billionaire actors but I also have to believe that stories and characters are important, that they have a life of their own. Stories come into our lives when we need them and, when done right, end when it’s time for their spectators to let go.

Over the past decade-plus, Iron Man has helped me grow up, helped me become who I am today. If things ever get rough again, I’ve got the Blu-rays. I can revisit the journey of Tony Stark if I ever need to remind myself of where I’ve been or who I am. But Tony Stark, the storytellers who brought him to life, and Robert Downey Jr. have done their part. It’s time to make way for the next generation. It’s time for the high schooler whose mom dropped them off at the theater the weekend Spider-Man: Homecoming or Captain Marvel came out to have their turn. They’re going to grow up with a new incarnation of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, one that guides them through growing up the way that ours did. And one day, years and years from now, they’re going to have their own Endgame. When they do, they’ll be ready. It will be time.

That’s the thing these movies can do that comics can’t. They can end. They can let these characters go, knowing good and well that the next generation is waiting for them. And in doing so, they can allow us to say goodbye. To get that resolution, to know that Steve and Tony and Natasha don’t have to fight anymore. They did their part, both in saving their world and changing ours. Part of the journey is the end, as they say. All we can do is remember what they taught us — and make sure the skies are clear for whatever heroes may come next.