Thunderbolts* begins with Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh) lamenting how her life is so repetitive and empty. She's talking about navigating existence as an assassin for hire for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), not to mention all the emotions she’s squelched away over her adopted sister, Natasha Romanoff, dying. However, she might as well be talking about the MCU itself over the last few years. This franchise has become enamored with crowdpleaser cameos from 2000s superhero movies, tired gay panic jokes, and trying to make Captain America: The Winter Soldier’s creative lightning strike twice. I feel you Yelena, it’s tough out here.
Yearning for something a little more polished in life, Belova opts to do one more dark mission for de Fontaine before potentially getting something a little more heroic and public facing. It’s on this assignment that Belova encounters other mercenaries that de Fontaine has a history of hiring. This primarily includes disgraced former Captain America replacement John Walker (Wyatt Russell) and super-powered assassin Ava Starr/Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen). They’ve all been hired to kill each other to cover up any loose ends that could incriminate de Fontaine.
Now having to also take care of quiet civilian Bob (Lewis Pullman), this group of anti-heroes, which eventually also includes Belova’s adopted father Alexei Shostakov/Red Guardian (David Harbour) and Bucky Barnes (Sebastain Stan), are going to have to work together. Good luck with that. After all, they’re all (save for poor plucky Bob) very self-centered bloodthirsty mercenaries.
Watching recent MCU movies like Deadpool & Wolverine and Captain America: Brave New World, I was only reminded of past superhero movies. These productions kept poking me in the ribs to recall plot points from 2008 Marvel Studios titles or cheer over seeing older superhero film stars again. One of the highest compliments I can offer Thunderbolts* is that its charms are self-contained. Not only that, but its exploration of mental health turmoil reminded me of my own therapy sessions, where I’ve been urged to exude compassion for “young Lisa”. Raw, discernible humanity defines Thunderbolts*, not trailers for future Disney+ programs.
The genius of many classic Marvel Comics characters like Spider-Man was that readers could see their own everyday struggles in heightened superheroes. The best MCU movies have kept up this tradition, chiefly in the Guardians of the Galaxy and Black Panther features. Thunderbolts*, thankfully, revives that quality after several Marvel installments exclusively concerned with 20th Century Fox superhero film cameos or teeing up sequels that will never materialize. Director Jake Schreier and screenwriters Eric Pearson and Joanna Calo combated this trend through embracing more intimate ambitions for Thunderbolts*.
Wisely, this script isn’t in a hurry to dash off towards a CG-laden finale. Instead, lengthy sequences concern material like these unlikely companions climbing an elevator shaft Kuzco/Pacha-style or riding in a rickety limo together. Carving time for these dialogue-heavy sequences lets the fun chemistry between these actors shine. Russell’s cocky Walker is especially amusing within these confines. His arrogance constantly getting undercut by the no-nonsense severity of Pugh and John-Kamen’s performance is a sturdy source of comedy. Harbour, meanwhile, is a gregarious burst of fun whenever he’s on-screen. Nicely, these comedic beats don't undercut the emotionally raw material, like how a de Fontaine cameo ruined Black Widow's poignant post-credit scene. Instead, the two tones complement each other. There are laughs here, but they don't diminish the more vulnerable material.
Pearson and Calo’s writing also lends a sense of specificity to these characters, making them extra engaging. This includes de Fontaine, who (whether intentionally or not) feels a bit like a skewering of Disney and Marvel executives. Her obsession with co-opting Avengers iconography to placate the public. Espousing feminist rhetoric (“well, you know I love supporting women” de Fontaine remarks to Belova before sending her on a suicide mission) while solely looking out for her own needs. She’d be right at home with over-compensated Mouse House leadership, not to mention so many other white women casting a blind eye towards the proletariat.
Beyond providing fleeting chuckle-worthy parallels to modern political woes (one politician’s conviction that a “packet” can defeat de Fontaine is especially prescient), those details make the world of Thunderbolts* extra textured. Ditto the subtle ways the individual personalities of this titular anti-hero team are reinforced. Walker’s experiences as a soldier amusingly manifest through tactics like procuring water from a cactus, for example. Those little flourishes nicely materialize through the Thunderbolts* ensemble cast, all of whom excel within more down-to-Earth confines.
Pugh especially gives as much dramatic urgency to a comic book character as she did to her work in Midsommar or Little Women. She’s a fantastic anchor for the proceedings, especially since she’s so gung-ho to depict Belova’s messier corners. The conviction she lent to that unforgettable Little Women moment where Amy March made a cast out of her foot for Laurie is alive and well in Belova's most sadistic and eccentric moments. Meanwhile, in the supporting cast, Pullman has a believable ordinariness in his portrayal of Bob, not to mention a puppy dog quality that makes his character instantly endearing. The whole cast is solid (huzzah for Geraldine Viswanathan getting such a high-profile, though underwritten, role) but Pugh and Pullman are certainly the MVPs.
Even with these better qualities, inevitable shortcomings weigh down Thunderbolts*. For one thing, a subplot involving Viswanathan’s Mel (de Fontaine's assistant) ends up going nowhere and culminates in a tremendously awkwardly executed beat. Thank goodness Ayo Edebiri didn't waste her time with this part. Thunderbolts* can also explore only so much regarding mental health and trauma in a movie still hawking Happy Meal toys and Funko Pop figurines. There’s a ceiling to how insightful a Disney-approved blockbuster can go that this feature keeps bumping into. In other words, Lynne Ramsay need not fret over the Thunderbolts* franchise usurping her as the ruler of psychologically tormented cinema.
Most distressingly, Thunderbolts*, even as it eschews some problems of recent MCU features, continues the franchise’s most disappointing visual defects. While the pages of Marvel Comics are filled with vibrant colors, most Thunderbolts* scenes (including ones set on the streets of New York City) consist of subdued hues and distressing light blue color grading. While this is a more “serious” MCU outing, somberness and vivid visuals are not mutually exclusive. The recent Georgian feature April explored the everyday struggles of folks to maintain bodily autonomy within societally-normalized stigmas against abortions. Director Déa Kulumbegashvili still made time for brightly lit scenes, gorgeously colorful tableaus, and close-ups of vibrant cherry blossoms. Surely a movie with Russian Captain America can afford similar bursts of vividness?
Cramped framing also undercuts conversation-heavy sequences, including a pivotal third-act exchange between Belova and her adopted father. Here, the performances and writing deliver superb work. However, Schreier and cinematographer Andrew Droz Palermo keep framing Belova and Shostakov in tight close-ups, as if they're making sure Thunderbolts* will still be visually coherent for those watching on a 3rd generation iPod nano. An earlier gas station scene where Bucky confronts the film’s four lead anti-heroes suffers from similarly excessively cramped compositions. Pulling that camera back and conjuring up more pre-planned blocking would’ve done wonders for these scenes.
Those shortcomings are extra frustrating given that the visual tendencies of Thunderbolts* do have several bright spots. This includes a third-act finale nicely subverting superhero movie finale norms through emphasizing grandiose allegorical imagery. Unfortunately, opening two weeks after Sinners underscores those Thunderbolts* visual problems. How can one hope to return to standard blockbuster filmmaking after witnessing that “I Lied to You” set piece? On the other hand, on its own merits, Thunderbolts* is a surprisingly engaging production getting a lot of mileage out of a more low-key aesthetic and some strong performances. A superhero movie finding success with standalone charms instead of incessant fan-service? To quote Smash Mouth, what a concept!