To read half the conservative commentary, you’d think Hollywood had fallen entirely to artlessness and ideology. 

“Hollywood has gone woke,” they say, dismissing nearly a decade of film-making.

But at the risk of offending both the conservative critics and their liberal opponents in the film industry, I’d say the uninspired and un-insightful ideologues have infiltrated both camps.

Woke Kills Movies

For proof that progressive ideology has the tendency to kill the art of filmmaking, rendering its productions heartless and preachy, one needn’t look far. 

2016’s “Ghostbusters,” despite the undeniably tremendous talent of its female-led cast, is generally acknowledged to be an artistic failure. It neglected comedic virtuosity in favor of a focus on the bare fact of itself as an exercise in feminism via “gender-swapping” the original film.

2017’s “Star Wars: The Last Jedi” was a deliberate act of iconoclasm, demystifying and dismantling its inherently mystic and simple source material. (In the opening scene, Mark Hamill shrugs and tosses Luke Skywalker’s iconic lightsaber over his shoulder like a disposable toy. The moment sets the tone for the whole remainder of the film – all two hours and thirty minutes, which makes it clearer that the cruel carelessness of Hamill’s gesture meant exactly what it seemed to mean.)

‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ Bucks the Trend

But one also needn’t look far for proof that the reverence and heart associated with what we now see as a “conservative” worldview are still alive and well in Hollywood – and still have the power to inspire and attract American audiences.

2023’s “Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol. 3” gives us a glimpse of that reality.

The film focuses on Rocket Raccoon. Bradley Cooper voices the hero, notably affecting an all-but obsolete New Jersey accent that itself seems a reverent callback to a bygone era.

Without delving into a full synopsis, it’s sufficient for my argument to point out just a few central themes and flourishes in the film.

Earth vs. Counter-Earth

In the “Marvel Universe” as much as in the Cosmos envisioned by Medieval Christendom, Earth is at the center. In the context of the space epic, you would think anything could happen anywhere in the universe. But everything always happens to be about our little world.

The centrality of Earth is not presented as a quack-scientific empirical fact, but as a poetical profession of homage to the dignity of the human beings who live here.

Just as we might say we love visiting a spot in our hometown because it’s where our fondest memories were formed – the library where we first discovered the joy of learning, the front porch where we first found ourselves captivated by the colors and sounds of a solitary twilight hour, the playing field under whose bleachers we experienced our first kiss – Earth is the place where we first awaken to our destiny.

In “Guardians,” we see the child Rocket misled into looking forward to a “new Earth,” which a mad scientist who fancies himself God is in the process of creating. Only after Rocket is disabused of the promise of a “Counter-Earth” does he fully embark on his destiny. 

Nature

Closely related to the film’s conception of Earth (and just as profoundly traditional) is its presentation of nature. In “Guardians,” nature is not some scientific abstraction. Nor is it a pagan idol to be worshipped and obeyed. Instead, nature is the reality of things as God created them to be, defined by their ultimate purposes.

Throughout most of the movie, Rocket repeatedly denies his nature. “I’ve told you a thousand times,” he says to his best friend in film’s first dialogue, “I am not a raccoon!” 

In one of his final lines in the movie, Rocket firmly asserts that he is a raccoon as he confronts his archnemesis.

In the full context of this fantasy (as we’ll see below), Rocket accepting that he is a raccoon represents the acceptance of being (in real-world language) human, made from the clay of Earth, but made for an eternity with our Creator.

God vs. Atheist Man

“All of our research supports the High Evolutionary’s altruistic objective of creating a utopian society,” a robotic OrgoCorp ad says in the movie.

The character Gamora tells us more about the High Evolutionary. He has “created” whole civilizations via methods analogous to (though much more advanced than) the most unethically eugenic use of today’s in-vitro fertilization processes. The “research” OrgoCorp conducts under the High Evolutionary’s direction is dehumanizing, involving even what amounts to torture.

“The corners of the universe consider him God,” Gamora warns.

The High Evolutionary’s Counter-Earth is an attempt to create a “perfected” version of our world. “Earth would be a fabulous place,” he says, “were it not for the ignorance and bigotry.”

But when the people of Counter-Earth – endowed as they are with freedom – show moral imperfections, the High Evolutionary says: “And so, as I’ve done many times before, I’ll have to raze it all and start again,” murdering millions.

In a climactic moment, the High Evolutionary’s servants realize the destructiveness of his mania. “You must stop, for God’s sake!” shouts one. 

“There is no God!” the High Evolutionary bellows. “That’s why I stepped in!” 

Here, he reveals that his deepest motive – his entire villainous project – is predicated on atheism.

Such a line coming from the film’s archvillain at his weakest moment – the moment of his defeat – can only mean that the film itself constitutes a massive affirmation not only of God’s existence, but of His goodness and His power.

Death and Heaven

As a child, Rocket names himself “Rocket.” He explains why: “Someday I’m gonna make great machines that fly. And me and my friends are gonna go flyin’ together, into the forever and beautiful sky.” 

He’s a babe when he names himself, an indication to the audience that what comes from his mouth is truth. And for Rocket the innocent, the purpose of machinery is ancillary to the purpose of man. And the purpose of man – his nature – is to achieve an ultimate beatitude in an eternity beyond death, literally in “heaven” – the “sky.” 

Rocket names himself for that dignified purpose, and “Rocket” essentially means “Servant” of that end, as well as “Evangelist” in the sense of bringing other souls toward it. 

As if the meaning of this heavenly theme of the immortality of the soul weren’t clear enough from Rocket’s self-naming monologue alone, it’s cemented to the point of absolute unmistakability when his friend, Lylla, later says – gazing up as she lays dying – “Sky.” 

What’s more, Lylla later appears to Rocket in a vision when he has a near-death experience. 

“We were right,” she confirms. “The sky is beautiful, and it is forever. And I’ve been flying with our friends.”

“Can I come?” Rocket asks.

“Not yet, you still have a purpose here,” Lylla says, directly contradicting the High Evolutionary’s earlier declaration that Rocket did not “matter.”

“A purpose for what?” the incredulous Rocket responds. “We were created for nothing. Just stupid experiments to be thrown away.”
“There are the hands that made us,” the heavenly messenger corrects him, “and there are the hands that guide the hands.” 

A Creator of creators, Ruler of rulers, and Authority above the authority of men. 

Lylla calls Rocket “my beloved raccoon,” and reveals to him that “the story has been yours all along” before sending him back to live out the rest of his earthly life.

What makes Rocket a hero

In Rocket’s final confrontation with the High Evolutionary, the hero rejects the villain’s claim of having god-like freedom to reshape nature, to give life its worth, to decide some lives are worth nothing.

“89P13,” the villain repeatedly calls Rocket. “The name’s Rocket,” the hero responds. “Rocket Racoon.” Here he asserts both the dignity of the individual and the sanctity of God-created nature against the man who would make himself master of both.

And Rocket’s final act of heroism – the purpose for which he was born, so to speak – really shows itself when he gives a philosophical refutation of the High Evolutionary’s atheistic hubris.

“All I ever wanted was to make things perfect,” the liar tells Rocket.

“You didn’t wanna make things perfect,” Rocket responds. “You just hated things the way they are.”

Guard the Galaxy

Evidence of the enduring reverence and emotional depth linked to a “conservative” worldview persists, even in Hollywood. This worldview continues to captivate American audiences, who made Guardians of the Galaxy a box office hit. 

But don’t tell the Left. They might just cancel Rocket.