In the 1980s cartoon Spider-Man And His Amazing Friends, arch-fiend The Chameleon's master plan left something to be desired: "I will destroy your friendship – get you to distrust, even dislike each other!" Flash-forward thirty years, and the same conflict anchors one of the most expensive movies ever made. Okay, so it's contextualized within more sociopolitical morality debates and Avengers than you can shake a shield at. Still, veteran Winter Soldier/Community directors Joe and Anthony Russo carefully keep hurt feelings the eye of the blockbuster storm. Their ability to effortlessly counterbalance the macro and micro levels of the conflict makes Captain America: Civil War a strong candidate for the most satisfying superhero film ever. It shrugs off clichés that had been threatening to bog the genre down, while reaffirming its core populist appeal with unprecedented nuance.

Switching gears from the colourful din of Age of Ultron to the far more interesting Age of Accountability, Civil War neatly consolidates the politics of its comics source text into about as in-depth an interrogation of the ethics of unsanctioned vigilante justice as we're ever likely to get in a franchise blockbuster. Like Ultron, there's simply too much going on for Civil War to not have a 'bit-y,' episodic feel, which undercuts the sweeping feeling of exhilarating, euphoric rush many of the best Marvels deliver. Unlike Ultron, all these bits are actually good. Every character's dialogue breathes distinctly and organically, while their respective subplots are fastidiously orchestrated - with even inconsequential emotional beats unexpectedly coming crashing back as red herring climaxes later on.

The Russos keep the moral naval-gazing concise but impactful, giving both sides of the debate a fair hearing, without backseat driving the viewer to taking a side. If anything, considering the 'Captain America' in the film's title, Rogers' steadfast conviction in individual autonomy has its fair share of holes poked in it, making it a genuinely even moral playing ground. And if the politics are motivated a touch over-conveniently at times (Rogers' resolution to keep fighting the good fight during a inspiring eulogy is one of the film's few stumbles of contrivance, while a non-sequitur kiss briefly flirts with the surreal unacceptability of 'Brutasha'), the Russos, in true Marvel fashion, are always ready with a quip or more stunning fight choreography to keep the melodrama at bay.

Ah yes - let them fight. It's no exaggeration to say that Civil War showcases, hands down, the most spectacular superhero action combat we've seen yet. The opening anti-terrorist Avenging takedown of Frank Grillo (remember him?)'s tech-beefed Crossbones is itself pulse-pounding fun, exhilarating without overstaying its welcome. But let's face it: it's the hero vs. hero airport super-brawl you came for. You're not wrong to do so; the hype doesn't do it justice. Gone is the bland spectacle of mowing through faceless CGI blurs. Here, our combat is up-close, unprecedentedly intricate choreography, grounded in character, humour and Star Wars references, crunchy with moral ambiguity, and consistently topping itself with more and more 'Big Moments.' It's almost obnoxious how awesome this fight is.

That said, it's the finale you'll really take away with you. An abrupt about-face from the bombastic fun of earlier, following a trail of twists and turns we genuinely don't anticipate (including a climax riffing on Se7en of all things...), Civil War's final fight is pared-down, viciously gritty, and microcosmically ties together the entire MCU thus far. It's also exhaustingly grim, which would be a buzzkill if it weren't so intimately emotionally truthful. Still, stay until the very end of the credits if your spirits need further bolstering.

The film's real battle is deciding which character to cheer for the most. We get more time with relative newcomers - Elizabeth Olson and Paul Bettany adorably weave tender humour into contemplating godlike powers amongst mortals - but veterans like Scarlett Johansson and Don Cheadle find new wrinkles and punchlines to explore. If Sebastian Stan's Bucky verges on tiresome histrionics, he's easily redeemed when paired with the hilarious banter of Anthony Mackie. Meanwhile, the inhumanly charming Paul Rudd delivers an infinitely more satisfying Ant-Man mini-movie in fifteen minutes than his whole flaccid feature. As new blood, Daniel Brühl's Zemo wisely stays mostly behind the scenes, deftly delivering one of the franchise's most complex, troubling foes. Chadwick Boseman's slick, sombre Black Panther is breathlessly captivating, and the prospect of waiting two years for more of him is agony. But the winner might be Tom Holland's prolonged cameo as a certain prodigal web-head, whose chatty cheeriness was so perfect it reduced our theatre to delirious cheers of euphoria.

Nonetheless, the film's greatest accomplishment is reinvigorating the MCU's two most beloved characters as relevant again. Robert Downey Jr.'s career-defining sassy Stark charisma had been imperceptibly threatening to dip into the quagmire of phoned-in indifference in his last few outings. Here he's back - vivaciously emotive and present, and owning a nuanced redemption arc that we actually buy like nobody's business. Conversely, Chris Evans traces Captain America's dogmatic, unwavering morality and gradual acceptance of his role as propaganda figurehead to darker places than you'd ever imagine, his strained conviction verging on the psychotic. The MCU has largely found its groove in refuting the genre's trends of claustrophobic darkness, but allowing Downey Jr. and Evans to dabble is morbidly fascinating and entirely truthful, and a reminder of just how talented they are.

Civil War isn't as taut and punchy as Winter Soldier, or liable to pump you up as much as Guardians of the Galaxy or The Avengers. It's arguably better: the mature instalment needed to keep the genre in check, leaving us genuinely fascinated to see how the franchise proceeds. The fact that it's also furiously fun, and does justice to its dizzying excess of characters and content? Maybe, as Winter Soldier's Baron Strucker proclaimed, we really are in the 'age of miracles.'

-9.5/10