“Captain America: The First Avenger” – I Took My Son to See a Hero, and We Both Left Rooting for the Villain
When Captain America: The First Avenger first came out, I figured it would be the kind of movie experience moms dream of—a safe, popcorn-filled, two-hour superhero thrill ride I could share with my ten-year-old son, who at the time thought Captain America was the coolest guy to ever carry a shield (besides maybe Link from Zelda). I was hoping for one of those bonding moments: the kind where you laugh, cheer, and maybe get a little teary-eyed at the end as the good guy saves the day and justice is served.
Well. We did bond. Just not over the part I expected.
Let’s back up. My son was ready for this movie. He wore his Captain America hoodie—yes, with the little wings on the hood—and brought his plastic shield, which he’d been using for weeks to terrorize our poor cat. He was practically vibrating with excitement in the theater. He kept asking me questions during the trailers: “Do you think Cap is stronger than Thor? What if Iron Man showed up? ” That kind of kid energy that’s both exhausting and completely wonderful.
Then the movie started. And something… shifted.
It wasn’t bad—not at all. In fact, it was better than I expected in some ways. It had heart, it had style, it had that lovely sepia-toned war-era filter that makes everything look like a vintage propaganda poster. Chris Evans played Steve Rogers perfectly—earnest, soft-spoken, courageous even when he’s the ninety-pound weakling with asthma. And yet, about thirty minutes in, I started noticing something: my son was getting quiet. Not in the “I’m glued to the screen” way. More like “Mom, I’m not impressed and I’m reevaluating all my merchandise decisions” kind of quiet.
At one point, after Cap finally gets juiced up in the super-soldier machine and starts sprinting barefoot through Brooklyn, my son leaned over and whispered, “He’s kind of… boring.” Oof. Harsh. But he had a point.
Steve is noble. Steve is brave. Steve always says and does the right thing. And somewhere along the way, my son—who normally loves that kind of straight-shooter—just couldn’t connect. “He doesn’t even joke,” he said. “He’s just always serious.” I started to say something about honor and integrity, but then something happened on-screen that shut both of us up.
Red Skull appeared.
Now, I’d heard of him vaguely—a Nazi villain with a red face, kind of like if Skeletor worked in weapons development. I wasn’t expecting much. But then he spoke. And wow. From the moment Hugo Weaving walked into the frame as Johann Schmidt, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. And apparently, neither could my son.
This man, this villain, this literal Nazi scientist, was somehow… electric. He was terrifying, yes, but in that delicious, theatrical, larger-than-life way that villains used to be in old films. He wasn’t just out to win a war—he had this deep, obsessive belief that he was above everyone, including Hitler. That kind of delusion is scary in real life, of course, but on screen? It was mesmerizing.
There’s a scene where Schmidt peels off his human disguise—just casually removes it like a latex Halloween mask—and reveals his bright red skull underneath. My son gasped. I braced myself for him to turn away or freak out. Instead, he said—quietly, but with total seriousness—“That’s awesome.”
From that moment on, the movie completely changed for both of us. While Cap was dodging bullets and giving speeches about doing what’s right, we were both waiting to see what Red Skull would do next. His weapons were cooler. His ambition was more dramatic. He had his own army, his own aesthetic (black leather, glowing cubes, ominous chanting), and a plan that was terrifying and grand. And honestly? He looked like he was having a lot more fun than anyone else in the movie.
Afterward, in the car, I asked my son what he thought. He shrugged. “It was okay,” he said. “Red Skull was the best part.” I laughed, because that was exactly what I had been thinking.
We spent the rest of the drive talking about Hydra, and the Tesseract, and whether Red Skull would ever come back (this was pre-Infinity War, when that still felt like a long shot). My son, who had gone in obsessed with Cap, started asking if we could find a Red Skull action figure. “I know he’s the bad guy,” he said, “but he was just cooler.”
And honestly? I couldn’t disagree.
It’s a strange feeling, walking out of a superhero movie and realizing the villain was more compelling than the hero—but that’s exactly what happened. Captain America: The First Avenger is a solid movie, with plenty of charm and a well-built foundation for the MCU. But what I remember most—what my son and I still talk about, years later—is how Red Skull owned every single scene he was in.
I took my son to see a story about a hero, and we both left talking about the monster instead. Which, I guess, is its own kind of bonding.
—A mom who came for the super-soldier and left with a soft spot for the skull-faced sociopath
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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