Director: Jake Scheier Starring: Florence Pugh, Sebastian Stan, David Harbour, Hannah John-Kamen, Olga Kurylenko, Wyatt Russell, Julia Louis-Dreyfus Running Time: 126 minutes
Marvel’s latest team-up, Thunderbolts*, directed by Jake Scheier, is a bold and refreshing entry in the MCU. Departing from the typical superhero formula, the film assembles a team of anti-heroes- Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), Red Guardian (David Harbour), Ghost (Hannah John- Kamen), Taskmaster (Olga Kurylenko), and U.S. Agent (Wyatt Russell)- who are manipulated into a perilous mission by the enigmatic Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (played with delicious chaos by Julia Louis-Dreyfus). We meet them at low points in their lives, not that they let it show; they wear their sarcasm, bravado, and stoic silence like armour, pretending they are totally fine, but you can tell somethings off. They are exhausted, numb. What starts off feeling like Marvel’s version of The Suicide Squad quickly spirals into something far deeper, darker and dare I say… tender.
Through the chaos, somehow, they connect. Slowly but surely, the film peels back their layers, revealing the people beneath the hardened exteriors. It’s not about grand speeches or neat redemption arcs; it’s about choosing to stay with each other even when running seems like the easier option.
Take Red Guardian and Bucky Barnes, for example. These two super soldiers, both scarred by their pasts, find common ground in a way that feels almost organic. There’s a moment here Red Guardian, with all his bravado, awkwardly tries to bond with Bucky, asking about his super serum. It’s a funny, light-hearted exchange, but there’s a camaraderie that slowly starts to build, and it’s clear they both recognize the weight of what they’ve been through.
Then there’s Yelena, Ghost, and U.S. Agent who develop what can only be described as a sibling-like bond, with all the bickering and teasing that comes with it. Their playful jabs at each other, with Yelena calling U.S. Agent “the dime store Captain America” are not only humorous, but also show how despite their differences, they are building trust and solidarity.
And finally, we have the father-daughter dynamic between Yelena and ed Guardian. While a far cry from the perfect dad, Red Guardian is trying in his on clumsy way to be present, but Yelena is no longer the little girl he left behind. Their relationship is funny, emotional and at times bizarre with a scene that highlights not even a highly skilled mercenary is exempt from being embarrassed by her dad.
In the midst of all the chaos, their moments of connection- no matter how imperfect- are what makes this team feel like they just might have a shot at not only, surviving but thriving.
At the heart of this storm of trauma and reluctant camaraderie is Bob Reynolds, aka Sentry, played with aching vulnerability by Lewis Pullman. Bob is not your typical Marvel villain; he is the film’s nuclear core and its softest wound. To me, Sentry is possibly the scariest villain Marvel has ever introduced. With the power to turn matter into shadows and collapse reality itself, Sentry could level the Earth with a wave of his hand, but the danger lies inside his own mind- a labyrinth of self-loathing, fear, and unprocessed grief. Fighting him in the physical world is pointless. To save Bob – and themselves – the Thunderbolts* must enter the darkness, both literally and metaphorically. Once inside Bobs mind, they can’t rely on weapons. It stops being about explosions and starts being about introspection; they can’t fight their way out, they have to feel. While Bobo must ultimately face the final boss alone, he does not win without his team. His friends. The ones who let the darkness consume them too, just to reach him.
This is where the film’s heart really lives, not in the explosions, but in quiet moments of radical love. The team that was built on cynicism and manipulation becomes a family through their shared goal. They have to let go of their most violent tendencies and save someone not by overpowering him, but by believing in him. In a surprising twist, it seems that hopelessness is the enemy- and hope, as messy and painful as it is, becomes their greatest power.
The films approach to mental health is unexpected, but it works. Marvel has dabbled in trauma before, but Thunderbolts* makes it the core conflict rather than the background texture. It doesn’t always land with subtlety, but it’s refreshing to see the narrative slow down and actually explore the weight these characters carry. Instead of defaulting to action or snark, the story leans into emotional messiness- grief, fear, guilt- all things these characters usually avoid. It is not revolutionary, but it is more honest than expected, and in a genre, that often skips the fallout in favour of spectacle, the shift feels meaningful.
Visually, Thunderbolts* is doing something different, for better or worse. It ditches the shiny, oversaturated Marvel look and settles into a darker, more stripped-down aesthetic. At its best, it feels intentional; there’s a standout black-and-white hallway fight scene that’s eerie and beautiful without being showy. That said, the moody lighting sometimes goes too far, making a few of the fight scenes hard to follow. Still, it’s clear the filmmakers were trying to match the emotional tone with visuals, and in a franchise, that’s felt a little rinse-and-repeat lately maybe that isn’t the worst thing.
Don’t be that person who leaves early; there’s a mid-credit scene and a post credit scene, and they are both loaded. One sets up the future of the Thunderbolts* in an intriguing way, and the other? Let’s just say that Marvel is setting up a pretty epic crossover.
(4 / 5)