Nonetheless, I was impressed by how much Guardians of the Galaxy manages to evoke a very fundamental aspect of the Marvel creation story: that Marvel’s is the world outside your window, and that its appeal comes from the relatability of its flawed, bickering superhumans. I won’t be the first to observe that the Guardians film is just as much a stealthy take on the Fantastic Four, its primary thematic concern being that of family, and how rejected, mutated, weird people can find love in the company of one another, no matter how much they seem to fight on the surface – this is also, perhaps, a unifying narrative for superhero fandom. But Gunn’s direction goes a little deeper. Not only do these characters squabble before saving the day, but they are given to involuntary bits of physical business that puncture the epic nature of the plot: Gamora, daughter of Thanos, fails to stifle a yawn during the team’s big Michael Bay march into action; Star-Lord picks up an important space object, only to drop it and pick it up again (in what looks like a blown take wisely kept as-is); Rocket Raccoon adjusts his junk under his clingy space pants, raising a pretty huge laugh from the eagle-eyed in my theater. I’m glad somebody animated that.
