WandaVision: A Peak of Greatness in the MCU

I firmly believe that the Marvel universe set the bar ridiculously high with its first series, WandaVision, only to later show a rather embarrassing decline through years of mediocre mass production.

WandaVision premiered in 2021 and was the first series in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which until then had only released films. It tells the story of Wanda and Vision, a couple who seem to be living a dream life in a small suburban town, within a reality that moves through different decades, imitating classic sitcom moments.

But although WandaVision may initially seem like a story about two superheroes living magical suburban lives, it is much deeper than that. I think this is the problem with many of Marvel’s newer films and series, right? “Superheroes” used to not be a genre in itself, which allowed stories about these heroes to exist within different genres: spy movies, heist films, mysteries, comedies. In the case of WandaVision, we get a series about a character who has lost absolutely everything she ever loved and tries to cling to a fantasy to cope with her grief. Here, the supernatural elements help tell the story—they are not the only thing that matters.

If you haven’t seen the series yet, go watch it and come back, because from here on there are major spoilers. Essentially, the android Vision dies, and his girlfriend Wanda—who is human but was born with superhuman powers—goes to retrieve his body from the headquarters of S.W.O.R.D., which is basically like the CIA: a global intelligence department dealing with extraterrestrial matters. There she learns that Vision’s remains are being dismantled because rebuilding such a powerful robot would be too dangerous. On top of that, his components are extremely valuable, so she is not even allowed to bury him. What Wanda does to cope is drive out to the suburbs. Vision had secretly bought a plot of land there so they could grow old together like a traditional family.

This scene is devastating, because the only thing she has left of him is this empty lot—no house, just dry grass. In that emptiness, it becomes painfully obvious that they will never be able to build that home together, that shared future.

This pain, this anguish, manifests through Wanda’s magic and ends up causing an explosion that completely transforms the town. Now, on that land there is a house—and inside it, Vision. Everything around them is styled like a 1950s sitcom, where the worst problem you might have is an unexpected dinner guest and no food prepared. Nothing truly terrible ever happens.

What’s interesting is that Wanda doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, but when she sees Vision, she simply accepts this new reality and begins living the domestic life she always dreamed of, playing the role of a sitcom housewife from that era. From there, they move through different decades of sitcoms, and she adapts effortlessly each time.

At a certain point, Wanda starts to realize that this universe exists only because of her powers, and she understands it more and more clearly. But by then, she has become addicted to this new life. She knows she is harming the real inhabitants of the town by holding them captive in this reality, but she can’t stop—because nothing matters more to her than keeping her family. Without this world, they don’t exist. Vision is dead, and her two children were never truly born.

This becomes explicit when the authorities confront her. She asks to be left alone and says: I have what I want, and no one is ever going to take it from me again.

Still, this isn’t entirely true. She isn’t so blinded by her own happiness that she is incapable of seeing the harm she causes. In episode 9, some people are freed from the spell and can express their real feelings toward her. Wanda genuinely believed everyone was happy in her fantasy. Once she realizes that the townspeople are suffering, she lets them go, destroying everything she created. So it’s not that she was willing to hurt others—once she fully understood the consequences of her addiction, she had to let it go.

Grief as a sociological phenomenon

In 1912, sociologist Émile Durkheim wrote: “When someone dies, the group to which they belong feels diminished, and in order to react against this loss, it gathers together. Collective feelings are renewed, leading people to seek one another out and come together.”

Death is something our late-capitalist, postmodern Western society deeply fears. We prefer to pretend it doesn’t exist. In preindustrial societies, for example, death was spoken about more openly. People often died in front of others, with their participation—you might invite your family to say goodbye, and children were not hidden away from the experience.

Today, there is a fear surrounding the act of dying. Death has been displaced into hospitals and placed in the hands of technicians and funeral agencies. Most people now die in hospitals; we no longer deal with death in our own homes. Preparing a loved one’s body for burial is no longer common—it is handled by funeral workers. Death has become distant, unfamiliar, and mediated by professionals. There is a kind of neoliberalization of grief.

But no matter how much we deny it, death is inevitable. That’s why, since the beginning of humanity, every culture has developed its own attitudes and funerary rituals to cope with it. Even though we experience grief as something deeply individual, the way we go through it depends heavily on the sociocultural and historical context we live in, which shapes how we respond to loss.

Wanda was born in Sokovia, a fictional country in the Marvel universe located in Central Europe, somewhere between the Czech Republic and Slovakia—more or less, since its location is not very consistent across films. Her parents died when she and her twin brother were ten years old, when a missile destroyed their building. Over time, her country became a war zone invaded by foreign nations, and violence became a normal part of everyday life.

According to Slavic tradition, the ethnolinguistic group of this region, the souls of those who were good protect the living after death. But those who died prematurely, violently, or who were not good people can cause harm, illness, and death to the living.

In a way, this is what happens to Wanda. The deaths of her family profoundly shape her life. Her parents, her brother, and Vision all died prematurely and violently, and this deeply affects her. Her parents’ death leads her to hate Stark Industries, the company that created the missile that destroyed her home. This is why she and her brother eventually join HYDRA, an authoritarian, terrorist, paramilitary organization devoted to world domination, which then experiments on her. When they realize HYDRA’s true intentions, Wanda and her brother join the Avengers to fight against it—and her brother Pietro dies saving a child.

By that point, Wanda has already lost much of her agency. First she was controlled by HYDRA, then by the Avengers and the U.S. government. And when she finally finds, in her relationship with Vision, the possibility of a normal, peaceful life—when they decide to grow old together—he dies.

Vision had also helped her begin to heal. After Pietro’s death, Vision comforts her with a beautiful reflection on loss. He says something along the lines of: “But what is grief, if not love persevering?” It’s a reminder that when someone dies, they don’t disappear completely—the love you felt for them remains.

Losing Vision, then, is the final straw for Wanda. Years of trauma and pain culminate in her complete loss of control. She chooses to isolate herself in a parallel reality governed by sitcom logic. What matters here is what death represents to her: not a natural part of life, as it might be in preindustrial societies, but a devastating force that repeatedly destroys her happiness—ending dreams, projects, and leaving her alone.

In episode 5 of WandaVision, her ten-year-old sons have a dog that dies. Wanda notices they don’t want to deal with the pain, and they magically age themselves up to escape the sadness. Wanda tells them: “The urge to run from this feeling is strong, I know. We can’t reverse death, no matter how sad it makes us. Some things are permanent.”

She knows this is true, yet she herself is in complete denial about Vision’s death and about the fact that her children were never truly born. In her case, the urge to escape the feeling wins—so intensely that she creates a fantasy world where death is not a threat and she can live peacefully with her loved ones.

Sitcoms as a genre and their representation of everyday life

Wanda watched sitcoms as a child with her family. She watched them after her parents’ death, after her brother’s death, and even while being experimented on by HYDRA.

Sitcoms are comedic stories that usually revolve around a small group of characters in a limited number of settings, often based on domestic and/or work life. But why sitcoms? Why do they comfort her so much?

Because sitcom episodes usually have a clear beginning and end. Nothing has consequences so serious that they must carry over into future episodes, and nothing truly terrible ever happens. In one scene, Wanda watches Malcolm in the Middle, and Vision doesn’t understand why it’s funny to see the father getting hurt. Wanda explains that he isn’t really hurt—because it’s not that kind of show. There’s no better way to summarize it: it’s not that kind of show. Here, everything generally turns out fine.

In Wanda’s sitcom fantasy, her family evolves through different decades of the genre. The first episode is set like a 1950s sitcom, inspired by The Dick Van Dyke Show, representing the denial stage of grief. The second episode moves to the 1960s, inspired by Bewitched. By the third episode, in the 1970s, Wanda fulfills her dream of motherhood. As the series progresses, each decade reflects a different stage of grief, culminating in acceptance.

By the end, Wanda must accept the truth of her life and allow herself to process her pain.

Why WandaVision represents the peak of excellence and potential in TV series

Sitcoms shaped every traumatic moment of Wanda’s life, but they also gave her a way to escape those moments. It makes perfect sense that she seeks comfort in a fictional world governed by the rules of that genre.

The series is a loving homage to sitcoms, with incredible attention to detail—changing aspect ratios, visual styles, and formats depending on the era and perspective. The production quality is outstanding.

As a final note, when Wanda and Vision say goodbye, Vision tells her that he went from being a disembodied voice, to a non-human body, and finally to a memory made real. That line encapsulates the complexity of the writing and the emotional depth of the series. Wanda’s grief becomes a profoundly human experience, and despite all the sadness, the story concludes with a beautiful message.

Want to know more? Listen to my episode.