Nearly 11 years after the launch of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Kevin Feige has finally realized that white women are superheroes worthy of their own movies too. The long-awaited Captain Marvel has finally hit theaters, and it’s both refreshing and unbelievable that it’s in 2019 that we’re seeing Carol on the big screen. As many problems as I have with the MCU and Marvel Entertainment, the MCU’s biggest strength is its accessibility. Thanks to this film, there will no doubt be resurged interest in Carol and all the Captain and Miss Marvel series that have come before and will come afterwards. Onwards and forwards!

Captain Marvel was always going to be in an uphill battle with expectations, but Brie Larson’s performance as Carol Danvers truly carried the film over its weaker patches. When Carol was sad or mad or triumphant, I was too. Larson’s Carol was brave and foolhardy, compassionate and a little vain; she’s always wanted to be a Big Damn Hero, whether it was on Earth or as a Kree Starforce operative. To see a foolhardy little girl grow up into someone who learns that there are sacrifices for making the right decisions and rectifying our wrongs is both precious and all too rare. The joy and excitement of her first flight, after she’s rid of the limitations—self-imposed and reinforced by others—was easily the best moment in the film. Carol’s power comes not only from her physical strength, but the strength in her heart and her mind.

Carol’s strength of conviction is shown at its best through her relationships with those around her. Carol’s and Vers’ inability (and refusal) to leave behind her emotions creates setbacks for her throughout the story, yet she remains steadfast. Unlike her mentors, Mar-Vell and Yonn-Rogg, she’s unwilling to cast aside others or use them for her purposes. Carol’s complete and utter disinterest in Yonn-Rogg as she shoots him mid-monologue into the dust with her photon blast is the best kind of fuck you—to her abuser and the low points in her infamous and troubling history as a hero. Just as the movie pushes aside the often-violent comics canon, Carol herself refuses to live up to the arbitrary standards set before her.

All projects have their problems, and Captain Marvel is no exception. Overall, I would have taken lower lows to reach higher highs. The film promised us “higher, further, faster” across its marketing campaign, but it didn’t feel like it followed through. If Carol had to overcome a more substantive struggle (more than her memory loss), her triumphs could have been magnified twofold. The film had trouble with tension, even with tangible stakes built into the plot. The solutions to our hero’s problems seemed a little too slick, and I found myself wishing that the conflicts between her and Talos, Yon-Rogg, and especially the Supreme Intelligence had given Carol more to struggle with and develop alongside. The consequences of the Kree vs. Skrull “war” for our hero felt like a copout, and I wanted more.

Of course, to truly interrogate the “war” between the Kree and Skrull would require some difficult work beyond the scope and wishes of most MCU productions. I found the racialization of the Skrulls pretty uncomfortable, and I wished that Carol’s positionality and stance in the conflict wasn’t so informed by her whiteness. Ignorance of larger systems of violence isn’t inherently a problem. It is a problem, however, that the movie seems to posit that unlike Vers, a violent Kree Starforce operative, Carol the noble U.S. soldier is in the right. As her suit changes colors from green to red, blue, and gold, she renounces her past and bounds into her future as Captain Marvel, a force for good.

Regardless of which army she is aligned with, Carol can never be truly be absolved of her actions—no matter Talos’ insistence that both their hands are dirtied by war. I didn’t expect the film to try to tackle these questions, but it doesn’t stop me from being disappointed that the film glossed over what Carol must contend with as someone directly involved in an imperial project. Monica and Maria Rambeau’s role in the film only highlights for me an opportunity passed by for what an exploration of military violence, government, and an individual’s responsibility could have looked like with a female superhero, especially for a Black American woman.

In spite of its problems, I did enjoy Captain Marvel for what it is, and it’s certainly one of MCU’s strongest film offerings. In the right hands, it could have even been an excellent movie. Nonetheless, it serves its role as a proper origin story for a trilogy that I fully anticipate. Carol’s growth and development will truly be put to the test in future installments of her story. I can only hope that we’ll see more of Carol, Monica, and other female superheroes leading their own series in the future. Except you, Natasha Romanov.