Confession No. 16: I am Iron Man (or, at least, I want to be)
I love a good superhero movie. I’m not ashamed to admit I will sit and devour one. One of my closest, happiest friendships is built on our love for them, and analysing them to the nth degree is a favourite pastime of mine. There’s a lot of reasons for it. There is a degree of simple enjoyment, and my glee at analysing them is linked largely to my inability to just take a story at face value (a trait further linked to my love for reading and academia). I adore how I can be swept away in one and I particularly enjoy the Marvel Cinematic Universe franchise for their diversity in characters (I acknowledge their faults and I acknowledge that there could be significantly more diversity there but there’s no denying that no hero feels like a carbon copy of another). At the base though, I like how they make me feel powerful. There’s something about watching these characters who, particularly in the Marvel Universe, are so vulnerable and frightened and still willing to stand up and fight