The Marvel universe has been approaching a heat death, with too many disparate parts cast over an excess of properties. There have been more stories but stagnant storytelling, with few visual or thematic risks, and a seemingly invincible—or, inevitable—empire has slipped out of relevancy in only half a decade. Perhaps retreading Robert Downey Jr. as the star will fuel the MCU to make it to the X-Men, whom Jake Schreier will direct after helming this summer’s first Marvel flick, Thunderbolts*. And Schreier is an excellent choice, as Thunderbolts* is easily Marvel’s best film since Avengers: Endgame, elevating the highlights of the universe’s new supporting cast for a surprisingly fresh take on the superhero formula.
(Note: Some light spoilers for the film’s plot follow.)
The contours of the plot here are practically the same as DC’s 2016 Suicide Squad: a group of morally grey superhumans assembled by a shady stateswoman (here, Julia Louis-Dreyfus captivating as Valentina Allegra de Fontaine) finds redemption stopping a secret project that spiraled out of control. Unlike that film, however, or much of Marvel’s recent fare, the writers use this scenario to dive into the human experience in a visually surprising and emotionally resonant way. All the main characters are grappling with depression and another with suicidality particularly, and without giving away the final action beat too much, the ultimate villain of the film captures that pain with a gripping visual metaphor that gets to bloom. The final fight sequences take place in settings that will be very unexpected for the franchise, with far more attention to detail than recent, undercooked action scenes have received. For once, the environment is part of the heroes’ challenge—perhaps because the filmmakers were confident that the setting in the script would not be changed with post-production CGI. This all comes in addition to Marvel’s standard of propulsive action and interjected comedy, though this movie amplifies both, with sharpened stakes to make the battles more exciting and a more careful application of that comedy for fuller laughs and more gripping drama.
The cast of characters has been shaped with far more discretion than past Marvel projects, and the acting, per the series’ standard, is strong, with Florence Pugh gracefully carrying the major weight of this blockbuster. Wyatt Russell deserves particular applause for the roughness and regret he brings to John Walker, a role in which he excelled on one of the many Disney+ shows and that I look forward to seeing him continue to evolve in future films. But the standout is newcomer Lewis Pullman, whose timid Bob steals the show, and who connects with the audience almost instantly. Bob is one of Marvel’s brightest new characters after Endgame, and there is a spark in his relationship with Yelena Belova that makes them a compelling thread to follow into the next phases of this universe.
The most important achievement of this film is its stylization, as the picture allows itself to have actual aesthetics. There is color grading (thank the Disney gods!), dominated by yellows and beautiful blues, echoing the grief defining the cast and storyline. The score by Son Lux has infectious motifs, a rarity for this franchise, that are not content to dissolve into an anonymous sound bed. For instance, a dark power that appears in this picture has a foreboding, sliding musical cue that repeats throughout the film. A post-credits scene from the Russo Brothers, teasing the next chapter of Marvel, switches up its look, with more saturated colors and piercing lights that fit the comic book sandbox world of the Avengers crossovers well. Of course, music worth remembering and visual iconography that reinforces the story world seem the bare minimum for any film, let alone a star-studded, multimillion-dollar extravaganza. But that this film escapes the Marvel abyss of non-aesthetics is worth recognition and some share of applause, and with the Russos’ colorful return, hopefully this marks the start of a MCU as stylish as its source material.
Thunderbolts* succeeds because of its focus and scale: before it is a franchise starter, it is a fun summer action movie, just like Phase One’s cornerstone pictures. And because it is satisfying in itself, it is the best advertisement Marvel could make for its future projects. It is by no means a masterpiece or one of Marvel’s best, but it is a great new start for this flagging world and for Schreier as an action blockbuster pilot. After a few years of growing apathy, I am optimistic for the future of the franchise that got me watching movies. And while my box office brain jumps at the low numbers for Thunderbolts* so far, Marvel executives should remember neither Rome nor The Avengers were built in a day. The blueprint to a successful cinematic universe is the same as when the experiment started: it grows film by film, story propelling story, and with Thunderbolts*, Marvel finally regained their creative momentum.
(A note on my reviews: I think a numerical grading system can obscure the complexity of any film’s myriad of creative choices and group films together according to their grade that have little else in common. While it is a perfectly valid approach to reviewing any film, it is one that I doubt supports my intent and interests in my criticism, so I will not use it on this website.)