Star-Lord and his crew are back in action with Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. And to be frank, I wasn't a big fan of James Gunn's latest spin with these MCU misfits. But there's one part of this movie I can't stop thinking about, for better or worse. But mostly worse.
I can't stop thinking about the forgotten bat-family. No, not that one.
The more I ponder, the more I wonder what's going on with the eponymous band of heroes — and if they can even be considered heroes after this.
What's the deal with the bat-family in Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3?
In the Guardians' quest to recover a passcode that might save the life of Rocket, the garrulous cyborg-raccoon voiced by Bradley Cooper, they touch down on Counter-Earth, a planet The High Evolutionary (Chukwudi Iwuji) has modeled very closely on Peter Quill's (Chris Pratt) home planet. Well, there is one notable exception. Instead of humans wandering the world, mucking up the environment, starting wars, and generally being the kind of mess this villain abhors, the residents of Counter-Earth are human-animal hybrids (aka humanimals); they're cuddly yet awkward, like life-sized Calico Critters.
On a quiet suburban street, a female-presenting warthog pushes a pram, with a cooing diapered piglet nestled inside. A panda in a polo shirt mows the lawn, while a young bush baby girl plays with a ball. The Guardians' spaceship touches down, and Peter, Drax (Dave Bautista), Mantis (Pom Klementieff), Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel), and Nebula (Karen Gillan) descend, promising they come in peace. That's right before Drax chucks that ball right into the cute fuzzy kid's face, and panic breaks loose.
While the neighbors flee, a felled bat-woman is left to the unintentional invaders. Peter sees she's skinned her knee. He provides comfort and some minimal first aid, then asks for her help. Though they don't speak the same language, she understands the Guardians are trying to do good. While her neighbors gawk in shock and horror, she ushers these aliens into her home.
Writer/director James Gunn goes all out in establishing this bat-woman's life. Audiences are invited in with the Guardians; we even get a glimpse of her children playing in the living room. She shuts the door to keep them out of her fur as she tries to figure out how to help. Meanwhile, her bewildered husband brings refreshments to their dining room table. Nebula, typically stoic, bursts with joy, declaring the fizzy blue beverage "delightful!"
Gunn even takes pains to show close-ups of the family's photos. The Guardians make an effort to be good guests, thanking them for their aid and repeatedly scolding Drax for putting his feet on the sofa. This family of bat-people are Good Samaritans, helping where others would not, providing guidance in their quest and even surrendering their family car — despite bat-dad's grumble of dismay.
Gunn paints their lives as a picture of domestic bliss, from the cozy interior design and soda-like refreshments to their station wagon. Then, he kills them off, and the Guardians never even look back.
The Guardians of the Galaxy failed this bat-family twice.
Defenders of Star-Lord and company might argue there was no time to rescue the bat-family. Counter-Earth was being blown up by its cruel god, The High Evolutionary. The block went from idyll to war zone in moments. Plus, most of the crew had abandoned ship in search of the passcode. Right before disaster struck, Drax and Mantis fled their post, leaving behind an unconscious Rocket and a Gamora (Zoe Saldana) who isn't a Guardian. (This multiverse double is a Ravager.) No one was there to come to the rescue!
I can accept that the bat-family had to die. The heroes were too far away. The movie was already bouncing between all of them and the dunderheaded Adam Warlock (Will Poulter) and The High Evolutionary and the second-string Guardians hanging out in Knowhere, Kraglin (Sean Gunn) and Cosmo the Spacedog (voiced by Maria Bakalova). Plot-wise, it makes sense. Plus, their presumed deaths give the annihilation of Counter-Earth personal stakes. Essentially, Gunn gave us just enough time with this lovable bat-family to get attached, then he massacred the lot to show us how fickle and cruel The High Evolutionary is.
I don't like it, but I understand it. What I do not understand is how the Guardians never take a moment to recognize this loss.
This movie is two hours and 29 minutes long. In it, Gunn has made time for multiple needle drops, from an acoustic "Creep" to a rollicking "Dog Days Are Over," with arguably overlong sequences leaning hard into each song. He's flung us into multiple worlds; roped in dozens of characters, new and old; combined a quest for a McGuffin with plenty of Star-Lord grousing; and delivered an intensely violent origin story for the sharp-tongued Rocket. And yet in all this, there's no time for someone — one single Guardian — to remark on the loss of the strangers in a strange world who gave them aid when all others ran? An expression of pained regret and then a consoling reply, with a moment of sadness before some new disaster hits? That would have been something.
There are prolonged sequences in this movie where the Guardians save hordes of children and a menagerie of caged animals as they risk every life on their headquarters. You might argue that the baby raccoons and their furry friends — and bio-engineered kiddos — all tie into Rocket's arc about rescuing something from The High Evolutionary's tyrannical grasp. It's redemption. In that scenario, why wouldn't the bat-family count? Because they came into play too soon? Because Rocket was sleeping, so he couldn't play savior? Because they aren't as adorable as raccoon cubs captured in a sentimental, slo-mo close-up?
Whatever the reason, it doesn't seem like reason enough. As the Guardians roared to a hard-won victory and danced it out in celebration, I couldn't jam along. My mind was still on whatever might remain of Counter-Earth, wondering about the kind family whose sacrifice meant nothing. Not to the cold universe that surrounded them. Not to the self-proclaimed god that created them. Not even to the so-called heroes whom they helped save a day, though not theirs.
This oversight seems especially egregious in a film so mired in grief and regret. It's bad enough the bat-family had to be sacrificed in the name of stakes, but that their sacrifice is ignored by Gunn and his Guardians stings. How are we supposed to root for heroes like this?
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is now in theaters.
