Imagine trying to describe to somebody living in the 60s the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It would be near impossible to convince somebody that audiences would flock to movie after movie in one big megafranchise that’s made up of a bunch of smaller franchises all based on comic books. Lame. While it’s undeniable that the MCU kicked off a wave of new cinematic universes (as well as wannabe cinematic universes—see Universal’s “The Dark Universe”), my favorite cinematic universe started and ended in the 90s. And it’s not the type of “franchise” that one would ordinarily think of as a cinematic universe. 

A little while ago I purchased the Criterion box set “A Whit Stillman Trilogy: Metropolitan, Barcelona, The Last Days of Disco”. In the set are the three aforementioned films, all written and directed by Whit Stillman from 1990-1998. When I finished out the set with 1998’s The Last Days of Disco, something in the credits (following one of the all-time great endings) caught my eye. After the cast list were two subsections of the cast titled “From Metropolitan” and “From Barcelona”. This made me think back to earlier in the film. I had noticed Carolyn Farina walk through one of the shots and noticed that she was done up in a very similar fashion to how she was in Metropolitan and here the credits were; confirming that she was indeed reprising her role from Metropolitan, Audrey Rouget. She wasn’t the only one. Folks—this is my favorite cinematic universe. The WSCU. The Whit Stillman Cinematic Universe. 

While yes, continuity in this franchise is…loose (I am aware that actors like Chris Eigeman and Taylor Nichols play definitively different roles across three movies and Barcelona and The Last Days of Disco are both period pieces, while Metropolitan is contemporary), but all three films undeniably take place in the same universe. One need look no further than the vibes. All three films are hangout movies centered around young people’s conversations at parties, often filled with hypocrisy, empty philosophy, and over generalizations. Much like the first few MCU films, each one has a different central protagonist, despite some repeats in casting. Metropolitan, follows a young Tom Townsend (Edward Clements, in one of his two total movies) as he becomes addicted to the night life of a Manhattan socialite. The parties in this film mostly contain people sitting down and discussing Jane Austen novels, but the core of the movie is in one of the b-plots. One of the socialites who Tom becomes acquainted with is named Audrey (Carolyn Farina) who is smitten with him from the beginning, despite his admittance that he only reads criticism of novels rather than any actual works. This soon becomes his driving force as he realizes that he’s been clueless to her feelings towards him the whole time. Also along for the ride is Tom’s “mentor”, Nick (Chris Eigeman). Even though Eigeman technically plays three different characters across the three films, all three are easily offended and love to make smart remarks about the people around them. Because of the main character’s dopey personality and relationship with a cute brunette, I’m going to declare this the Captain America: First Avenger of this trilogy, with no other basis other than I think it’s funny to compare this quippy, low-budget comedy to a multi-million dollar action flick. 

Onto Barcelona. Barcelona’s lead is Ted Boynton (Taylor Nichols) who’s a salesman living in the titular city around the middle of the Cold War. The film is mostly about his relationship with his cousin, the naval officer Fred (Chris Eigeman, who I’m thinking about declaring the Nick Fury of the WSCU). He and Fred’s personalities clash, but they’re undeniably a good team together. Fred is able to get Ted out of his comfort zone by taking stands against injustices, while Ted does his best to help Fred think before he speaks. Ted is also scared of the possibility that Fred might jeopardize his growing relationship with a blonde Spanish girl, Montserrat (Tushka Bergen), whom he eventually finds out is already in an open relationship with her longterm boyfriend. Barcelona is my least favorite of the three (which isn’t scathing, all of them are delightful) and that may be because of the turn towards the beginning of the third act. At this point in the story, Fred gets shot. For much of the last third of the film, Fred is in a coma in a hospital bed. His fate is in doubt! Stillman can’t quite figure out how to balance his quippy tones with these more serious, fatalistic ones in the same way that, say, Wes Anderson is able to, so for some of Barcelona it feels as though the film’s at war with itself. One could argue that this is intentional because of the Cold War setting, but I think that might be giving the film a little too much credit. It finally comes together though, in the last ten minutes, when the film finally gets back to what it’s actually about; Ted and Fred learning to love and accept each other, warts and all. Because a snarky, dark-haired, white guy gets shot in this one, I’m going to label Barcelona as the Iron Man of the WSCU. 

The last of the trilogy is the culmination of many of the themes and motifs that have interested Stillman in the last couple films including the disco scenes from Barcelona. This is 1998’s The Last Days of Disco. The Last Days of Disco takes place in late 1980 just as the titular craze was coming to an end. The film’s central protagonist is a 20-something girl named Alice (Chloë Sevigny) who works at a New York magazine with her “friend” Charlotte (Kate Beckinsale). Charlotte introduces Alice to the night life and they both navigate their way through relationships as young people. The Last Days of Disco, like Barcelona, also has a tonal shift about halfway through. Although I’d argue that this shift is more effective. Here, after Alice has finally opened up sexually, she ends up with two STDs. Meanwhile, one of her acquaintances, Des (Chris Eigeman, in his least redeemable character of the three), is clearly dealing with a coke addiction while the nightclub where he works and all of their friends hang out is under investigation for criminal activities. The Last Days of Disco is able to pull off this tonal shift because of how charming it stays throughout. Sevigny is such a star and her (eventually) romantic relationship with attorney Josh (Matt Keeslar) is earnest and sincere. The disco music throughout helps keep the vibes light, as well. We’re going to call The Last Days of Disco the Avengers of the WSCU. Don’t ask me to explain it. I lost interest in doing these goofy comparisons after the last one. 

You might be asking “What’s the point of treating these semi-connected quirky dramedies as if they’re an inter-connected cinematic universe? Is there a point?” Of course there is. It’s my belief that the WSCU is the key to our future. A better one. 

Let me explain. This year, on December 18, 2026, the new Avengers film will come out (on the same day that Dune: Part Three is also scheduled to, but that’s too stupid of a decision to get into here). It’s titled Avengers: Doomsday and look—I generally don’t like to speculate too much about a movie before there’s even an official trailer for it yet (you can watch a bunch of stupid little teasers for it if you want), but I have a strong feeling that Doomsday is going to single-handedly kill the MCU. Its budget is reported to be over a billion dollars. Which means for it to be considered a financial success, it’ll need to gross around two billion dollars, which famously only three movies in history have ever done. Doomsday’s cast has a million names on it and none of the actors seem to really have any idea what the film is even about. I could always be proven wrong. Maybe it’ll be a hit. But I predict that it’ll be a confused, bloated mess. Perhaps because of its hundreds of characters, each one the Russo brothers will undoubtedly treat with as much self-importance as the last. 

There’s nothing self-important about the slight inter-connectivity in the WSCU. And somehow, that makes these movies feel bigger, not smaller. It hints at a much bigger world, beyond what we’re seeing. This is not all that different from Rian Johnson’s approach to his Knives Out movies. Each one features mostly all-new characters with Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) being the only connective thread. Instead of self-referential, these movies instead choose to hint at events that we’ll never get to see and that makes these worlds feel somehow bigger than that of billion-dollar superhero movies. 

This is what a cinematic universe should be. A series of movies that take place in a world that their main creative force has a love for, not an obligation to. So I don’t know about you, but maybe this December, after a screening of Dune: Part Three, instead of going right over to Avengers: Doomsday, I’ll head back home and pop in Metropolitan. I think that’ll be a welcome change of pace. Then maybe later I’ll catch Doomsday, but I bet it won’t be nearly as delightful as anything in the WSCU.