Approaching the Void

~Note: There will be mild spoilers for Thunderbolts*.~

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a big MCU fan. I look to them for a good time and have generally enjoyed all of the projects. There is no “superhero fatigue” for me. So, as expected, I loved Thunderbolts*. But I’m not going to do a breakdown as to why, I’m going to focus on one element that has been widely praised.

In a way, it’s great that Thunderbolts* had its release date moved a few times and wound up premiering during Mental Health Awareness Month because this film tackled a LOT of mental health issues and treated them respectfully (in my opinion). When I walked out of the theater, my first thought was “Weirdest therapy session ever”.

(Note: I am not a mental health professional, but I do have depression, anxiety, and mild OCD, so I will be speaking from that place vs. a clinical place).

The MCU has never shied away from mental health: Tony Stark and his addiction, PTSD. Lots of grief especially in Phases Four and Five, which was to be expected post-Endgame and also helpful for fans during the pandemic (we’re still in it, I said what I said). But Thunderbolts* took it a new level, and I found the movie cathartic in a lot of ways.

The movie starts with Yelena (Florence Pugh) at the edge of a tall building (second tallest in the world) and a voiceover expressing grief about her sister (Natasha/Black Widow) and feeling empty. She calls it a void and then downplays it by saying maybe she’s just bored. During my lowest points, I began describing how I felt as a black hole, so already I was engaged. Here’s a “superhero” dealing with a similar problem I do.

I mean, Yelena is also a trained assassin which is not me at all, so her problems are overall coming from a different place, but that doesn’t make them less valid. She breaks down a few times throughout the film, especially over how much blood she’s spilled along with some of the other reluctant members of the “team”. And even with their past, that doesn’t mean they DESERVE mental health issues. There’s a few instances of suicidal ideation, drinking and drug use to avoid thinking of their problems, and an overall a feeling of loneliness while reconciling these feelings as well.

Another great element of the film was in the final “battle”, the group has to go through “shame rooms”. The best way to describe shame rooms in mental health speak is intrusive thoughts. Having intrusive thoughts visualized in this way was so eye-opening to me. And especially seeing how the characters broke out of the shame rooms “defeating” the intrusive thoughts because the spirals can be hard!

While I can see some criticism with the “power of friendship” ending, isn’t this a common recommendation for depression? Connection, friendship? I admit this is the hardest part of depression for me: asking for help, finding true connections. But that’s what made this movie meaningful to me. One of the things I’m working on in therapy is opening myself up to people and making friends despite all of my issues. Seeing these broken people who have done terrible things be embraced and told that they are worthy of love and friendship made me tear up. Because I am worthy too.

Finally, there’s a line in the end credits scene where a character implies that depression will always co-exist with their personality. This is an incredibly important message. Depression cannot be fixed, it cannot go away. It’s a lifelong battle with many treatment options, but those can only help with the day-to-day. There is so much work to do, and I can attest it’s exhausting. But I do it. I pick myself up every day and try to be better. And that’s what the Thunderbolts* do as well.

Have you seen the movie? What did you think of the overall mental health messages?