Chapter 801: The Best Era for Superhero Movies

"Loki, having arrived on Earth, is far more powerful than he was in Asgard. Because the ambitious Loki is wreaking havoc on Earth, his older brother Thor obviously cannot just watch from the sidelines. Even though others in the team don't see it this way, Thor values his family and firmly believes his brother will eventually change his ways."

At the latest media briefing, Duke revealed some new information and officially announced to the public that the enemy the Avengers would face in their first assembly would be Loki, widely recognized as the most charismatic villain of Marvel's Phase One.

Tom Hiddleston immediately became the center of media attention. In line with the production crew's promotional strategy, he sat down for an interview.

"Loki is like a chess master who is already ten steps ahead, playing everyone in the palm of his hand."

Facing the reporters, Tom Hiddleston said, "I only found out this month that I was going to join The Avengers. Duke just showed me the script, and I was completely captivated the moment I started reading it. I read the whole thing in one sitting. It's truly incredible. Duke somehow managed to blend all these characters together while still giving the story a fresh feel. The script for The Avengers is the best superhero screenplay I have ever read."

Aside from these promotional moves, the production's preparatory work was in full swing.

Several of the film's superheroes were getting their looks redesigned. Steve Rogers's outfit would see changes compared to Captain America; the costume department's newly designed combat suit would be much more convenient for action. Specifically, the cowl looked much closer to the comic books, rather than a goofy steel helmet. Iron Man also received a brand-new suit of armor, and the Incredible Hulk's appearance underwent a complete overhaul, distinct from any previous version.

Thor's costume was far more angular than before, and for the first time, he would even take off his cape to reveal his muscular arms.

The model and set design for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s iconic base—the Helicarrier—were basically complete. The set would be built on a soundstage at Warner Studios. It looked a lot like an aircraft carrier, but distinct from a standard warship. Duke wanted to showcase this crucial element of Avengers history and give fans a truly thrilling experience when the mother ship soared into the sky.

In addition, the initial model for another comic classic—the Quinjet—had been built. The Quinjet was the transport the Avengers used to commute to and from the Helicarrier and fly into battle, and its design shared the same lineage as the mother ship. The Helicarrier's technology was similarly applied to the Quinjet.

At the same time, the Quinjet's cockpit shape, rear engines, and weaponry would give audiences the distinct feeling that this craft could easily exist in the modern day.

The film's set design team also needed to "dress up" a soundstage to serve as a location in Stuttgart, Germany. To create a flawless, lifelike effect, the set crew produced a massive amount of German signage and even added a "beer garden" to the stage.

Furthermore, some actors offered plenty of constructive suggestions to Duke and Marvel Pictures.

Clark Gregg, who played Agent Coulson, was more than just an actor. During the shoot, he took the initiative to volunteer himself to Duke, wanting to write scripts for the ongoing stories of the Avengers. He had previously dipped his toes in the waters with 2000's What Lies Beneath and 2008's Choke, showcasing his talent for screenwriting.

Duke and Marvel were highly intrigued by his proposal. They were preparing to adapt certain Marvel properties into television series—such as Peggy Carter's life after leaving Steve Rogers, or the day-to-day operations at S.H.I.E.L.D.—to serve as supplements to the larger worldview.

Over Marvel's decades of comic history, the Avengers roster had changed time and time again. Newcomers constantly joined as veterans departed, and somewhere along the line, a civil war had even broken out between Iron Man and Captain America.

Yet, no matter how the team's form shifted, its core spirit remained the same. Whenever the dark clouds of crisis loomed over the world, they would always stand shoulder to shoulder and embark on a new journey. And, of course, that familiar rallying cry remained unchanged—"Avengers, assemble!"

Duke knew perfectly well that the golden age of superhero movies had arrived.

Within Hollywood, musicals, Westerns, historical epics, and action films had each reigned supreme for a decade or two at a time. Comic-book adaptations of superhero films had enjoyed brief bursts of popularity in the 1980s and 1990s with the Superman and Batman franchises—1989's Batman even took the North American annual box office crown with 251 million dollars. Now, having entered the 21st century with the maturation of CGI technology, these films were steadily ushering in a much greater era.

Today, humanity had long since landed on the Moon, and probes had touched down on Mars. The internet and mobile digital devices were ubiquitous. Communication and transportation were unprecedentedly convenient, information was nearly limitlessly free, and the power and influence of technology reached into every corner of civilization.

In such an era, superheroes were bound to become the leading figures on the global silver screen. But why did people love these modern myths so much?

In today's Hollywood, there was one unavoidable fact: original sci-fi films were in sharp decline, accompanied by the rapid rise of superhero movies.

Since 1977, sci-fi films had been Hollywood's box-office darlings, a genre that birthed countless classic commercial blockbusters. Now, however, that position was steadily giving way to superhero movies. Adapted from comic books that once swept across America, this genre blended action, adventure, fantasy, and sci-fi into a formula that was slowly becoming a globally dominant commercial juggernaut.

In reality, the Hollywood of the past hadn't relied on aliens or masked superheroes to make a buck at all. Musicals, Westerns, epics, and the evergreen action genre were the absolute favorites in the eyes of film producers.

Times had changed. Superheroes had become the new idols of the post-industrial era. In some ways, these comic-book heroes were the creations of the American cowboy spirit walking into the city and possessing modern culture.

Once Americans built their way up from the barren wilderness and walked into modern cities, submitting to law and order, modern industry drove people from the vast, open plains and squeezed them onto assembly lines. Urban civilization demanded that everyone become an appendage of the machine, just like the workers in films like Modern Times or Metropolis. People could no longer ride out on horseback to roam the world; they could no longer thumb their noses at unjust laws like the cowboys of old; they could no longer experience the mystical power of primal myths and legends.

The people of the city needed a new kind of hero—one more spectacular, exaggerated, and magical than before, with a richer, more secretive inner world. This kind of hero needed to transcend the chains of the mechanical and electronic age, becoming a new myth to carry a new dream. Superman, Batman, and the superheroes that followed fulfilled all of this.

Even more importantly, these superheroes could be mass-produced in an endless stream off the assembly line. There was a vast array of types and styles to choose from, yet they could be bought for just a few cents. From the Great Depression of the 1930s to the post-9/11 era of America, was there any "simplified Bible" easier to obtain, more entertaining, and better suited to comfort the soul?

Especially with the lingering economic slump across America following 9/11, the public needed new, flesh-and-blood silver screen heroes to bring them a sense of security, to spark a revival of the American spirit, and to provide shiny icons of modern tech and pop culture to worship. Interestingly, the explosive box-office success of Spider-Man hit in 2002, landing perfectly in the second year after 9/11.

One had to admit that the social climate had, to some extent, made the film the phenomenon it was.

The Avengers was completely different from traditional Hollywood sci-fi fare. In Duke's design, the film didn't even need the heavy narrative that sci-fi so heavily relied upon. The movie had almost zero plot to speak of; it was simply the process of a bunch of superpowered freaks going from acting alone to establishing teamwork, and then crazily farming mobs of enemies.

In other words, building a worldview for this film was far more important than telling a story.

In the past, sci-fi and superhero movies had primarily relied on story and character to draw audiences in. For example, 1977's Star Wars told the tale of a young man answering the call, leaving his remote backwater planet, plunging into a cosmic war between good and evil, and ultimately becoming a hero.

Every classic genre film operated exactly like this. Personalized characters and compelling narratives, combined with genre tropes—like thrilling car chases, tense shootouts, and gorgeous special effects—formed the main attractions and selling points of a movie.

2009's Avatar was something of a turning point. James Cameron took what looked like a very worn-out story formula and shot a revolutionary film.

This revolutionary nature lay not just in its 3D craze, but more importantly in the world it built: the societal structures, the lore, the designs, the character dynamics, and so on. Audiences were pulled right into the film's new world, utterly immersed in its grand, lifelike visual displays. Moviegoers had even stopped consuming the story and the actors; instead, they had started consuming a technology, a whole worldview.

Before this, the Harry Potter series, The Lord of the Rings series, the Star Wars series, and countless other sci-fi, fantasy, and superhero films had already been heading down this path. Avatar was just the milestone.

Without a doubt, the grand Marvel plan that Duke had pushed and designed based on his past experiences went much further in this regard than Avatar. He and Marvel had taken previously linear film franchises and evolved them into a web-like structure. Each superhero was like a little star in the night sky; they reflected each other's light, forming a massive cosmic system.

Every new Marvel movie could be seen as a sequel to the last one, a spin-off, and a trailer for the next one all at once.

So what was actually good about the script and premise of The Avengers? Was the story great? Were the characters fully fleshed out and deep? The answer was absolutely no. Its greatest success was that, for the first time ever, it harmoniously placed a multitude of superheroes—with wildly different personalities, varying superpowers, and vastly different home worlds—all into a single universe.

Speaking of which, one had to mention the massive role of Marvel's post-credits stingers. The easter eggs scattered throughout the Marvel Universe weren't just optional gimmicks; they were the very threads linking each standalone superhero film together.