This week sees the release of the long-awaited movie Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3., the final chapter of director James Gunn’s MCU trilogy. Because of that we already knew it would be an emotional ride, something which reviews have now confirmed describing it as the “saddest” Marvel movie yet. It’s news that I was hoping for but also quietly dreading - and that’s not just because I sob at most movies (when they tell you to bring the tissues I come prepared with stacks of them), it’s because I have a close connection with the previous movie, Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2. It's a film that is often described as one of the weaker MCU entries, something I disagree with as it had such an impact on me.
One of the many beautiful things about cinema is the strange way sometimes a film arrives at the perfect time for you, making it almost feel like the universe made it that way. For me, this happened six years ago with the second Guardians movie and it’s a day I remember well. Just as the work day was finishing off I got the call from my mum that my family had long been waiting for - a suitable donor had come up for my dad’s needed organ transplant and the operation was happening that night. It was a moment we had all been waiting for since he had fallen ill but something that was also surrounded by an air of trepidation as it is such a big operation.
