Brave New World Faces Double Standard for Black Hero

[This essay contains spoilers for Captain America: Brave New World.]

Captain America: Brave New World has drawn a divided response from critics and general audiences. And given how divided America is right now, and the questions concerning what the American Dream even means today, it’s both fitting and frustrating. While the film certainly has its share of structural and technical wrinkles that can’t be smoothed over, a significant part of this division comes down to expectations. And just as it was in the comics, segueing from Steve Rogers to Sam Wilson doesn’t come without controversy.

With America facing historic levels of corruption, apathy and greed while civil, social gender, immigration and education rights are being dismantled by the day, nobody seems to know what to do. Our elected officials won’t save us. The wealthy won’t save us. And white Americans, who hold the vast majority of voting power in the country, certainly didn’t save us. So, it’s somewhat ironic, given the conversations surrounding Brave New World, and these movies many have viewed as mere escapism, that there is now a call for superheroes to save us, to call us to action. But it’s not just any superhero who needs to save us, who needs to confront America as it exists now, it’s the Black one.

Several conversations I’ve seen online, and taken part in person, have questioned whether Brave New World does enough in terms of taking a side. Is Sam Wilson progressive enough and aggressive enough? Does he make a clear enough political statement in 2025? Or does he simply straddle the line as opposed to attempting to fix a fundamentally broken system led by a fundamentally broken president? Has Captain America been politically neutered? I’d argue that he hasn’t, and despite the film’s production problems, which I’m not denying, the depiction of Captain America isn’t one of them. Sam Wilson simply doesn’t fulfill white liberal fantasies through Black work.

There was a time when I believed that if our superhero culture could reach the current moment, and if those projects did more, we could do more. For a moment I thought we were seeing it, in our comics and movies, a commitment to radical empathy, inclusivity and justice. But that was just another mask, corporations and people pretending to care and understand justice, only for it to all be dropped the moment the next administration permitted them to. And Disney, the distributor of the very movie I’m discussing, is just as guilty. So please, do not convince yourself that my thoughts on Brave New World are in any way a defense of the corporation, which I believe couldn’t care less about Black people. Rather, my interest is in the creatives behind the movie — the director, Julius Onah, and the writers, and actors and what they have attempted to do with this film, even if some aspects are more successful than others.

The stage for a Black Captain America was already set with the miniseries, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021), which was devoted to the controversies and battles Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) would have to face as a Black man taking up the shield. While that series, which greatly benefited from having more time to explore its ideas, was better received than Brave New World, it was also not without its criticisms directed at Sam’s role in standing for an America that has never loved Black people as much as we love it. Sam’s speech in the series finale of the miniseries, in which he says, “The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.” Sam shared a similar insight a decade ago in Sam Wilson: Captain America No. 2 (2015) by Nick Spencer and Daniel Acuna: “Steve Rogers believes that when the chips are down, when its values are at stake — his country will do what’s right. And me? In my heart? I can only hope it will.” Despite that belief and hope, inherent to Sam’s character, some critics of the show found Sam’s speech overly optimistic or even naïve. Some also took issue with the forgotten Captain America, Isaiah Bradley (Carl Lumbly), finding it unrealistic that he was moved by both Sam taking up the shield, and by a Smithsonian tribute to him and his troop’s contribution to the Korean War and the acknowledgment that they were held against their will and experimented on.

In response to those critiques, I wrote, “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier had to reflect real-world issues in order to provide legitimate commentary, whatever comes next in terms of Sam’s journey as Captain America must push beyond the now of our reality and dare to imagine a better future where change can and does happen … Sam’s success as Captain America relies on acknowledging the past and the present, but he can’t remain there. Rather than simply react to the world, Sam must be proactive for his role to have any meaning, even if that means breaking free of certain tropes associated with the suffering Black hero, the noble negro, which we’ve clung to in our attempts to bring realism to our media. There’s a place for realism certainly, but when it comes to the first African American superhero, there is an opportunity to dream beyond the harshness of reality.”

Brave New World implements those considerations and employs the original intent behind superheroes, aspirational figures for children. And while these characters no longer just serve children, they are still predicated on imagining a better reality.

With Brave New World, we’ve circled back to some of those same criticisms, including Sam and Isaiah’s willingness to attend a White House event, hosted by President Ross (Harrison Ford), whom neither has any reason to trust. And to the film’s credit, neither man does trust Ross. These are not stupid men. Sam invites Isaiah to get him out of his largely solitary existence, and because he believes that Isaiah deserves recognition for what he’s done and that he shouldn’t remain a secret. And Isaiah obliges because of Sam, who has earned his respect, and because, despite the abuses he’s suffered, he is still a patriot. It is a difficult thing to reckon with, but like many Black Americans, who have served in the military or had family members who served, there can be both pride in serving your country and anger that your worth in America is still devalued. As the grandson of a World War II veteran who served his country yet returned home where he was still not permitted in white spaces, still had to work multiple jobs to get by for himself and his family, and could not even vote, I recognize the complexities of feeling both within and outside of the White House, and all that its name implies.

Sam, isn’t palling around with Ross, who imprisoned him during the events of Captain America: Civil War. He’s suspicious about Ross’ motives in wanting him to restart the Avengers and throughout the film, Sam stands firm on refusing to work for Ross, and he isn’t lacking in anger. Mackie convincingly bristles when Ross asks the Prime Minister of Japan if wants a picture with Captain America, the implication being that Ross thinks he has some ownership over Sam and can parade him around. And Sam’s righteous anger is more pronounced after Ross dismisses him as “son.” And sure, he could’ve punched Ross in the face, and it would’ve been deserved, but so much of the film centers around how anger manifests and how we control it, or not.

When Isaiah is imprisoned for attempting to assassinate Ross, despite the evidence of his mind being controlled, Sam disobeys Ross and decides to uncover the conspiracy himself, along with his partner Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez). Some of the conversations about the film have questioned why Sam didn’t simply break Isaiah out. And I think this is where context and character become important. Sam saw how well breaking a friend out of prison worked for Steve. It resulted in a manhunt that tore the Avengers apart. Sam knows who Ross is, and rather than escalate the situation, he chooses to believe that he can find the truth without forcing Isaiah to become a fugitive in the crosshairs of a president who has earned the nickname Hulkhunter. Even in imagining a world better than the present in which Sam Wilson can be embraced as Captain America, the film still has to rely on established narrative threads and character traits for stakes to exist.

What’s already been established can account for some of the frustrations with Brave New World, particularly in its third act. Fueled by headlines, and theoretical metaphors attributed to the film ahead of release, there was an overwhelming desire to see Sam Wilson versus President Ross/Red Hulk serve as a direct allegory for liberal America’s fight against President Trump. But neither the characters nor the fictional world in which they exist fits within that box. Ross and his Red Hulk counterpart were established before Trump’s political rise could even be considered a joke. And of course, the film was written and shot well before Trump was voted in for a second term, something I think few could’ve predicted. Ross is certainly corrupt, and the movie doesn’t shy away from that, but he’s not Trump. So Sam doesn’t handle him like Trump stand-in.

Some audiences found Sam’s ability to talk Ross down from his Red Hulk form, after the expected battle, to be too trite for our times. Additionally, criticism was leveled at Ross’ decision to take accountability for his actions, remove himself from office and serve a prison sentence. Ross’ willingness to face the consequences of his actions and Sam’s decision to visit him and his belief that people can change and ultimately work together has been viewed as Sam giving a pass to MAGA. But this is the problem with looking at these characters as monolith stand-ins for an entire group of people. The fundamental truth of the film is that it isn’t about Liberal America versus Right-Wing America. It’s about a counselor who became a superhero being able to get the most powerful man in the world to listen to him and take responsibility. And isn’t that what we should want? For a minority to be able to use the skills they’ve worked for and be heard? To create change, to prevent war, to free the unfairly imprisoned, and force leaders to reckon with their actions and want to do better?

What’s interesting about the expectation and subsequent demand that Brave New World directly confront the evils of an administration the filmmakers didn’t know was coming is that those same criticisms weren’t leveled at any of Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) Captain America movies. Captain America: Civil War came out during Trump’s first successful presidential campaign and yet there was no call for Zemo (Daniel Bruhl) to be a Trump figure. The film didn’t comment on the political moment of the time and even Zemo’s Nazi background from the comics was removed.

In fact, Nazis were largely removed from the equation in all of Steve’s movies. HYDRA, which started as a Nazi organization in the comics before becoming a neo-fascist group, is divorced from Nazis altogether, instead existing as a ubiquitous evil organization. When Steve finds out that HYDRA is embedded in the infrastructure of the American government in Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), policy and systemic oppression isn’t addressed. Even Red Skull (Hugo Weaving) was distanced from Hitler in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011). And it’s not as if neo-Nazis and oligarchs weren’t already a threat. Yet, Steve Rogers was allowed to simply be a superhero rather than a revolutionary figure. He doesn’t punch a single Nazi, except for an actor dressed up as Hitler in a stage show, which is a perfect example of the political performance offered by those highly entertaining, yet passive movies. Steve’s movies were allowed to be superhero fare, really good ones, but not pointed allegories. So why isn’t the same loose interest in politics now afforded to Sam Wilson?

There’s an American desire for Black people to lead the charge, as historically we’ve so often done, and been imprisoned, forgotten and assassinated for it. So now there is this interest in Sam Wilson leading a symbolic charge, in becoming a fictional Civil Rights leader to inspire action because that’s so often the height of what we can envision for Black people. We’re socially desperate for Black people to save America once again. But folks, we had that opportunity. Not in fiction but in the real world. And Black people, particularly Black women, made clear what was at stake. But we blew it because the white liberal fantasy wasn’t quite right, so now we’re left to deal with the reality while we attempt to shoehorn fictional characters into positions we couldn’t muster the energy to get actual people into in reality.

So frankly, I am unimpressed by this demand for Black superheroes to be more prescient and have more expectations placed on them than their white counterparts, at the expense of their established characterizations. Superheroes won’t save us. If you want to fight this oppressive system you’ve voted yourself into, then fight it, but stop asking that Black people in reality and fiction to monolithically serve your expectations and do it for you. We’re busy dreaming of and believing in a reality beyond the now.