This is an extremely painful post to write. Yet I feel I need to record the moment I took an enforced step back from popular culture. I wish I could say the hiatus is for a specific period but the reality is the break length is unknown.

It is clear to all that I am not just a fan of film but of all the arts. I would book tickets to see the new blockbuster on a Friday evening during the opening weekend to ensure the movie was not spoiled throughout the weekend. (Not an easy task in our modern multimedia world!) On my return from the multiplex, I would spend hours reading Wikipedia articles, Buzz Feed listicles, Guardian reviews. Sometimes even fathom the energy to write an immediate reaction post, if I was so inclined (within a few short hours of the closing credits having run). I even started to capture visits to the pictures on Twitter (I never call the social media site X) by using my the hashtag – #cinematrip.

One of the hardest cultural shifts for me was stepping away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. What was once an exciting, interconnected saga, had become an overwhelming obligation — a sprawling web of films and television shows that demanded constant attention. After Endgame, the idea of keeping up with every new release, post-credits scene, and Disney+ series felt exhausting rather than exhilarating. It was not just the lack of time on my part, it felt like a big burden. Post pandemic with multiple streaming platforms available, everybody is watching their own small piece of the universe in their own time and there is no longer the collective experience of watching something for the first time on the big screen. The magic of the Infinity Saga was its culmination, and trying to invest in the ever-expanding multiverse felt like homework rather than escapism. For the first time, I accepted that I didn’t have to watch it all and that was liberating. I would come back, for sure, but I did not know when.

All that changed when I became a Dad in October 2018. As expected, fatherhood brings a change of priorities and an understanding that life will forever be very different. Another human being needs me, and my own personal life, desires, and career will need to take a firm backseat. However, going from a couple to a family of three allowed me to build a mancave, not knowing what was happening in Wuhan. Two and a half years later, Logan was joined by Aaron, and our family was complete.

It is only now, as they approach seven and almost five respectively – the youngest starting reception class at primary school in September, that I see that glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel that I may be returning to at last some of the trappings of my previous life.

But now, as my boys grow older, I wonder — could I revisit the MCU the way it was meant to be seen? Not through piecemeal Disney+ binges, but on the big screen, where Iron Man (2008) first roared to life. Imagine Marvel and Disney embracing the nostalgia (and marketing gold) of rescreening the entire Infinity Saga in cinemas — starting with Iron Man (or perhaps in chronological order by screening Captain America: The First Avenger) and culminating in Endgame — allowing a new generation to experience the journey properly. Better yet, what if they did it at the BFI IMAX in Waterloo, the biggest screen in the UK? I can already picture my boys’ faces watching that first suit-up in awe. Or the collective holding of breath as someone other than Thor picks up the Mjölnir. Perhaps I should write to Kevin Feige. After all, if Star Wars can keep milking its classics, why can’t Marvel give its modern mythos the same theatrical revival? Or am I asking too much? Surely there is an argument to ever fifteen to twenty years to go back to the start for the next generation of Marvel fans?