Git yer Stakes outta mah Steak! Hyperbolic Collateral

I know, the title isn't too clear. This one's about what the heroes have to lose if they fail. Obviously, this is usually the world/the galaxy/the universe/existence itself, and that's the issue I want to avoid.

I understand why it's done. The most recent experience I've had with it was Guardians of the Galaxy (the stakes are right there in the name!). All things considered, I don't have much to complain about. If I were to grade it, it would be a B+ or A-, and I don't think I'm a lenient critic. The things I'd change would probably have prevented the movie from being made, if you think about it. All the same...

The premise is: our hero stumbles across a weapon with the potential to eliminate all life, and after a series of unlikely coincidences, he and an unlikely band of anti-heroes must prevent the antagonist from committing genocide with it.

It's a Marvel movie. Disney owns the rights to this one. These empires have experienced some 'growing up' over the years; they've made some things that aren't for kids. Still, they're not stupid by any stretch, and they know what kind of story appeals to the broadest possible audience. This movie has lots of things it takes a grown-up to understand, but because it's always clear that somebody's trying to 'destroy the galaxy,' kids are going to be able to understand that the good guy's doing a good thing because nobody who's even kind of good is going to destroy the galaxy. To put it simply, having huge stakes is a surefire way to make sure your audience is never lost, because they never have to question why the hero is trying so hard.

There are no problems until you start over-thinking the plot, which is the razor's edge the screenwriter has to walk. If you make it too complex, the kids get bored; if it's not complex enough, the adults lose their ability to suspend their disbelief. In Guardian's case (not pickin' on em, they're just recent!), it's hard to believe that the only two parties who know the location of the all-destructive infinity stone are a terrorist paramilitary faction and a small-time outlaw. It's a total buzzkill of an observation, but that's the problem: the bigger the stakes, the more of these plot holes you'll find.

Alright, elephant in the room. Yes, this was a movie about a universe that's always on the verge of collapsing.  It's hard to say it represents the majority of fiction. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from it! Because while Marvel movies might not make the best comparison for a fantasy project, but they are perhaps THE most apt example of the main reason you want to evaluate your stakes:

Longevity. Any time you have a series, you've got the long-term to consider. Every time your hero wins a battle, you're going to have to prove that the next trial will be harder, because it's not interesting if it's easy. If you start with somebody capable of destroying everything, it's not easy for the audience to comprehend how the next guy can also destroy everything only it would be MORE DESTROYED this time!

If the hero starts with something smaller, like 'saving their best friend,' the audience can understand why they'd want to risk themselves for their friend. They'll also understand the next threat is worse because it threatens the hero's family. Then their neighbor's family, then their bridge club, on and on. It's important to consider your stakes, because if you think about what we love about stories, one of the big answers is 'growth.' We like to grow with the hero, or if we're older than them, we like to watch them grow up, and either satisfy the nurturer in us or reminisce about when we went through something similar. So when we're considering what the hero's risking, we need to remember that they need room to grow!

To be fair, this guy never needs to graduate from 'elephant protection.' Some things just don't need justifying.

So have I wasted your time on a pet peeve, or do you agree? Do you think too much fiction starts at 'of course we're going to save the world!' Do you prefer being able to identify the 'good guys' and 'bad guys' right away, or do you like things ambiguous? Because if the stakes are smaller, we might have to ask whether the heroes are really doing the right thing; am I alone in liking that kind of conflict? Finally, give me some examples of your favorite reasons for fighting; what stories do you think gave a particularly compelling or different reason for the protagonists to face the odds?