You’ve all said this before and I probably don’t need to say it again, but Clint should have died.
He is less useful than Natasha, practically and narratively. He’s less interesting. We’ve invested less time in him. He’s always been the least important Avenger, and giving him this redemption arc, the central spot in the narrative, this fall and this sacrifice, would have elevated his position instead of cheapening Natasha’s.
The directors and writers have spoken some about wanting to give Natasha this choice. Not wanting to take this away from her. They wanted to do something surprising and impactful and powerful. She chose her ending, they said. She saved the universe. She saved her best friend and let him go home to his family, which matters to her.
(And that was a story they could have told. If they had focused a little harder on the ways Clint’s family is Natasha’s family, too, I think it would have worked better for me.
If when Clint came out of that test run with his daughter’s voice still ringing in his ears, if he had turned to Natasha then and gripped her hand and said, I saw her, I saw Lila– and she had gripped his hand back, because that kid matters to her–
That would have helped. She would have been dying for something important to her, not just something that mattered. Little Lila Barton matters because she’s a person, a life, a voice, and she should be saved. But she should have mattered because she’s specifically and uniquely a young girl who says “Aunt Nat!” when Natasha walks into the room.
The stakes have got to be personal. And it’s their job as writers to show us that they’re personal. They didn’t.)
But even in a story where they made Natasha’s connection to the Barton’s stronger and more obvious, I still think Clint’s death and specifically Natasha’s survival would have been valuable.
That twist on the cliff would have been far more revolutionary if it had been about expecting her sacrifice and not getting it. I wanted the story they were telling to say: Natasha Romanoff, you deserve to survive. You’re valued and valuable. You are loved, and this time someone gets to save you. You get to rest.
It’s what they gave Steve. It’s what they gave Tony. It’s what they gave Thor, roughly, amid a series of poorly thought-out jokes. It’s what they gave Bruce, who finally learned to live with himself.
But especially Steve and Tony got a story of earning their rest. Their peace. Of being brave, and tired, and not knowing how to have a life. And I like that story for heroes. Where was Natasha’s?
It’s as though they forgot, or as though they never knew, that she has been giving everything in every movie she has been in. I don’t think they know, I really don’t. In every movie, she comforts. In every movie she bleeds–and, yes, everyone bleeds–but Natasha always bleeds for someone else’s story.
And I didn’t need this story to be hers. It can be Tony’s, that’s fine. But she should have been given a life. This was a story about heroes learning how to live again, or how to rest, but no one even really recognizes that she’s tired. Maybe her makeup’s just too good.
And while I think a story where Natasha lives would be a better story, I also specifically and honestly think a story where Clint dies would have been a better story.
They start this movie with Clint covered in blood. They start the story with Clint where Natasha was once– a killer in the rain, being offered the open hand of a friend, a new chance. They start the story with the type of red in Clint’s ledger but Natasha has been cleaning out for years. I agree with the writers that Natasha does not feel like she has earned any peace. I agree with the writers that Natasha doesn’t judge Clint for his worst mistakes, and I agree that she does judge herself. I agree with the writers that she would have tried her hardest to go over that cliff.
But narratively, thematically, in every way, it should have been Clint.
She should have fought for it because I agree with the writers that she would have, but the story should have told her no. Like it did when Tony tried to leave the game, and the story pulled him back in. Like it did when Steve tried to “move on.” Like it did when Thor tried to hide in his house. Like it did when Clint tried to go dark, and Natasha showed up and told him there was still hope.
They didn’t think they were heroes. They didn’t think there was a path forward. They didn’t think they were strong enough. They thought they could turn their back on who they were and still rest at night, but they couldn’t.
Their stories are not quite like Natasha’s: Natasha never stops fighting, but she doesn’t think she’s a hero either. Not because she’s not strong enough but because she’s not worthy enough. Because she’s not good, not like Steve, not like Clint, not like Rhodey.
And the story should have told her no, you are good. You are a hero, and we need you.
Clint should have told her no. He should have told her that her life was worth something. Even worth his own.
We started the story with his family– that was the very first shot! He lost them. And then he fought for them through all of it. That was his motivation, his goal, his central character note. He was fighting for his family. He should have died for one of them so that she could go back and save the rest of them.
Everything in the last half of the movie that Clint did, Natasha could have done. She could have stood beside that lake and mourned him, snapped at them all that there was no bringing him back. When Laura called his cell, Natasha could have picked up, hands shaking with grief and relief. She could have run through the flooding corridors of the Avengers base, protecting the gauntlet her best friend had died for and shooting the monsters chasing her.
I wanted that scene at the end. I wanted Natasha to walk up the steps of the farmhouse that Clint had run up during the test run for the time machine. I wanted her to walk up the steps and knock on the door, and Lila to run into her aunt’s arms. I wanted her tell Laura she was sorry. That she’d done everything. That she hadn’t done enough. That she couldn’t save him. And I wanted Laura, who named her third child after Natasha, to step forward and wrap her arms around her.
Sometimes a family is three kids, their mom, their father’s bow collection, and their assassin spy aunt.
This was a death-by-redemption arc, but Natasha had already redeemed herself– over and over again. They put blood on Clint’s hands, but had Natasha’s forgiveness and Natasha’s sacrifice be what cleaned out the red in his ledger.
I agree with the writers that she would have fought to go over that cliff, with everything that was in her, but the story should have told her no. You’ve done enough.
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