As Marvel Cinematic Universe’s film characters’ first foray onto the small screen, the nine-part series WandaVision was a brief cultural phenomenon when it was released on Disney+—memes and riveting Internet discourse included. In some ways, it challenged the traditional Marvel formula and in other ways, reinforced the tried-and-true tropes that made the comic publisher-turned-producer what it is today. As its double-entendre title suggests, WandaVision uses its superhero characters to recreate and challenge formulas of television sitcoms of times gone by. Juxtaposed with this critical eye, however, is the modern, politically charged imagery whose complexity perhaps isn’t done justice through the action-packed superhero action we love and love to hate.
The series opens on Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen), a woman with magical abilities, and her husband Vision (Paul Bettany), a humanoid robot. Although Marvel fans will recognize the duo as the superheroes Wanda and Vision (RIP), they first appear in this series within the confines of a 1950s American sitcom, their fantastical abilities a secret from the rest of the world. As the story unfolds, so does the sitcom’s milieu, decade-hopping through iconic sets, fashions, color schemes and more. Just as dynamic are Kathryn Hahn playing the enigmatic neighbor Agnes, and Randall Park, Kat Dennings and Teyonah Parris playing minor MCU players upgraded to have major storylines: Jimmy Woo (Ant-Man and the Wasp), Darcy Lewis (Thor) and Monica Rambeau (Captain Marvel), respectively.
The miniseries proceeds with twists and turns, including metatextual nods to the complicated cinematic universe and earth-shattering revelations sure to set up sequels and spin-offs galore. Easter eggs for MCU fans aside, the question remains whether WandaVision is satisfying enough to stand on its own and explore such wide-reaching topics as grief, the American sitcom and the military industrial complex with due responsibility and thoroughness.
THE GOOD
The first few episodes of WandaVision are a showcase for the series’ strengths. From a nightmarish dinner party to sinister commercial breaks, WandaVision promises mysteries and interesting takes on sitcom history from the very beginning. The show gets its easy shots in here and there about the dated gender politics of American sitcoms and the commercials that aired alongside them in the 1950s and 1960s. Beyond these quips, the pure anarchy and strangeness of the expected sitcom misunderstandings also display a genuine distress with the outdated format. The walls close in on the characters, relegated to the simplistic and unfulfilling roles of the archetypally depicted American family.
Speaking of roles, performances across the series are delightful; even when the characterizations aren’t very strong in the script, the characters come to life. Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany play both “sitcom couple with a wacky secret” and “superhero couple who know something is very wrong” quite well, swinging between the two at the drop of a hat. Kathryn Hahn, as expected, is also a highlight, bringing a comic panache to her nosy neighbor archetype Agnes that extends into unexpected territory as the character plays a more active role in the evolving show-within-a-show.
As the series goes on, it loses some of its more mysterious and unhinged elements that make the first few episodes so compelling. That said, the parodies of sitcom tropes and structure continue to be spot-on and an excellent vehicle for the actors to have fun in and the characters to fear. Each episode strolls through a new decade with ease, and WandaVision wears its references on its sleeve. Easter egg hunters will love to examine every inch of these era-specific, eerie takes on consumerism for clues at what comes next, while nostalgia nerds will appreciate the twisted references in and of themselves.
THE BAD
As the series trundles on, viewers find out that the sitcom that Wanda and Vision find themselves trapped in was actually created by Wanda herself, and that Vision and her two children, Billy and Tommy, are complete fabrications. The other characters were portrayed by residents of a town that Wanda had accidentally taken control of in her grief at losing Vision, as well as a witch named Agatha (nosy neighbor Agnes) who seeks Wanda’s power. The natural conclusion here is that Wanda, as an immigrant refugee from the fictional, war-torn Eastern European nation of Sokovia, seeks comfort in the American dream as portrayed by iconic, American television.
On its face, this idea is intriguing. Sitcoms are comforting not only because they resolve all of their issues neatly within a half-hour time slot, but also because they tend to confirm and stroke the beliefs and egos of their viewers rather than challenge them. WandaVision pokes fun at the sexism and racism of sitcoms (especially older ones) through the gender roles played by Wanda and Vision and the show-within-a-show’s Monica Rambeau, a sassy Black sidekick archetype whose portrayal visibly discomforts real-world Monica as she watches—the same content which, decades prior, provided a sense of comfort in their complacency with the status quo.
In another flashback-heavy episode, Agatha walks Wanda through her history, revealing all the times that, at various traumatic moments in her life, Wanda watched American sitcoms for comfort; the bombing incident that killed her parents left her and her brother Pietro trapped in a Sokovian apartment watching a sitcom. But rather than delving deeper into the critical nuances of the televisual archetypes of the American family, the takeaway seems to be that Wanda is more impacted by the unattainable nature of the idealistic “happiness” they showcase than the problematic stereotypes they portray.
THE CITY (Spoilers ahead!)
As the series trundles on, viewers find out that the sitcom that Wanda and Vision find themselves trapped in was actually created by Wanda herself, and that Vision and her two children, Billy and Tommy, are complete fabrications. The other characters were portrayed by residents of a town that Wanda had accidentally taken control of in her grief at losing Vision, as well as a witch named Agatha (nosy neighbor Agnes) who seeks Wanda’s power. The natural conclusion here is that Wanda, as an immigrant refugee from the fictional, war-torn Eastern European nation of Sokovia, seeks comfort in the American dream as portrayed by iconic, American television.
On its face, this idea is intriguing. Sitcoms are comforting not only because they resolve all of their issues neatly within a half-hour timeslot, but also because they tend to confirm and stroke the beliefs and egos of their viewers rather than challenge them. WandaVision pokes fun at the sexism and racism of sitcoms (especially older ones) through the gender roles played by Wanda and Vision and the show-within-a-show’s Monica Rambeau, a sassy Black sidekick archetype whose portrayal visibly discomforts real-world Monica as she watches—the same content which, decades prior, provided a sense of comfort in their complacency with the status quo.
In another flashback-heavy episode, Agatha walks Wanda through her history, revealing all the times that, at various traumatic moments in her life, Wanda watched American sitcoms for comfort; the bombing incident that killed her parents left her and her brother Pietro trapped in a Sokovian apartment watching a sitcom. But rather than delving deeper into the critical nuances of the televisual archetypes of the American family, the takeaway seems to be that Wanda is more impacted by the unattainable nature of the idealistic “happiness” they showcase than the problematic stereotypes they portray.
Superhero movies, on the other hand, do not necessarily deal in unattainable happiness, so the MCU has cleverly left itself out of its own media critique. But by opening this Pandora’s box in the first place, WandaVision leaves a lot of room for viewers to critique its own politics and placement within the pop culture world. As moviegoers and other media consumers in 2021, we are constantly inundated with media messages, many of which come from heavily biased sources. And for example, for Marvel, that interest has, from the MCU’s beginnings with Iron Man, often been funded by the U.S. military.
While some of the MCU’s efforts have subtle or overt anti-military messaging, the films in this franchise have always had to toe the line with regard to their handling of the American military industrial complex. Like many Hollywood productions, several Marvel movies have received funding and assistance from the U.S. Department of Defense in exchange for the Department to have a say in the final depiction of the military on film. So, while films like Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Iron Man 3 contain some ostensibly harsh critiques of the American military, their blows are softened, often by the fact that it’s not really the American military who’s to blame here.
In the same way, WandaVision’s meager sitcom critique reflects the studio’s larger problem with narratives around its own media representations, and, ultimately, its examination of the media we consume stops at surface level—and its critical eye certainly comes to a screeching halt once the series transitions into its superhero action phase in later episodes. Even a small dig at Marvel’s military history (in the form of a Stark missile being used in the attack that killed Wanda and Pietro’s parents) is more of an empty gesture than an actual self-critique. Just because the show is aware of its own positioning in the media landscape does not mean that it is saying something interesting or useful about it. In fact, the presence of S.W.O.R.D. provides more of a balanced representation, perhaps, but it still does not critically look at the optics of a militaristic operation of this scale occurring in a small U.S. town.
WandaVision’s early episodes, however, do contain a salient point that can be taken on its own without the ending muddling its good intentions. Viewers may love or hate WandaVision and its superheroic ilk on the big and small screens, but what’s more important is that they watch it with eyes and minds open to what is being said and how the film (or series, book, etc.) is saying it. Sitcoms, like superhero shows, are designed to be somewhat ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean that their representations of American life and the forces that guide it—like familial roles, societal stereotypes or the role of the military—do not have very real impacts. It is good to question the media we consume, lest we become trapped in its warm, complacent embrace forever.
