Review: Thunderbolts* (2025)

In 2024’s Deadpool and Wolverine, the Merc with the Mouth greets his old Weapon X brethren with the quip: “Welcome to the MCU, by the way. You’re joining at a bit of a low point.” It’s a moment of self-awareness from a character who constantly breaks the fourth wall, but Marvel has been doing this more and more over the last few years, acknowledging the fact that these movies, which once felt fresh and exciting, have now become routine. 

So it actually doesn’t come as much of a surprise that Thunderbolts* sees our anti-heroes taking on the ultimate big bad, depression itself. Okay, sure, that depression manifests itself through the actions of a powerful entity that’s new to the MCU, though rooted in Marvel comics history. But in a lot of ways, Thunderbolts* mines the same existential ennui that has made Matt Reeves’ The Batman a favorite among Millennials. In the latest MCU adventure, our characters sigh deeply and speak about how they’re simply going through the motions. It’s a meta commentary on the current state of the world, with low faith in leaders, rising economic inflation, and a general sense of unhappiness in all areas of life. But it’s also a commentary on the current state of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, in which movie after movie comes off the assembly line with few surprises and even fewer innovations.

I found myself mostly unengaged for the bulk of Thunderbolts*. Sure, Disney/Marvel is acknowledging the fact that thrill is gone, but we have to remember that they built this machine in the first place. When  Alexei (David Harbour, having a great time) enthusiastically talks about the possibilities of the Thunderbolts as a team, Yelena (Florence Pugh, who carries so much of this movie) is quick to call him out on it and remind him that this is not a marketing opportunity. But see, that’s exactly what it is: a marketing opportunity. Disney wants to comment on the thing while also being the thing they’re commenting on. They want to acknowledge franchise fatigue while being the catalyst for that very fatigue. It’s all a bit disingenuous, isn’t it? For the first two-thirds of the movie, our characters bicker and make pop culture references about Dr. Phil. Wow, they’re just like us. It’s MCU by the numbers: take a group of C and D list Marvel heroes, throw them in a situation in which they have to stop a thing, then watch them come together as a team. This is the formula that James Gunn employed (and innovated) with his Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy, but Thunderbolts* all too often feels like Marvel trying to copy what Gunn did for DC (The Suicide Squad) after Marvel fired him. It feels reactive, not proactive. 

Thankfully, Thunderbolts* has an incredibly strong third act, and the last 40 minutes of the movie go a long way to redeeming the generic nature of the rest of the film. I found myself genuinely moved and invested in what this story has to say about the human condition, about the current state of the world, and about how we move forward when life feels insurmountable. But by the time of the post-credits sequence, the spell that had been cast was broken, and it was back to business as usual. Make a joke, show how the movie we’ve just seen fits into the context of the MCU, and then set up the next movie. Rinse, repeat. 

At some point, trying to review Marvel movies has become like trying to review frozen pizza. It’s not that frozen pizza is bad; it tastes okay, the cheese is melty, and it satisfies in the moment. But it’s also mass produced and lacks the finer nuances that make REAL pizza such an amazing thing. Marvel movies are fun while in the moment, but they don’t bear the fingerprints of creative people. They have no beginning, no middle, and no end. They exist on an endless conveyor belt of entertainment. Any growth in the characters or in the world of the MCU is only temporary. I could talk about who wrote and directed Thunderbolts*, but does anyone really care? It springs forth from the machine, not from the mind of filmmakers with something to say. Therein lies both the appeal and the shortcoming of these movies: they’re never meant to be more than the latest chapter in a continuing story. It works on the comic book page, but when translated into these massive spectacle films that cost hundreds of millions of dollars, there’s something missing. 

Thunderbolts* is fine. Sometimes it’s even good. I like the themes of the movie, even if I’d rather we get back to escapist fun where we don’t have to deal with the struggles and problems of the real world. Superheroes are supposed to take me away from politicians and fears about money and employment, not remind me of them. But I also realize that for a generation, these movies are the new global mythology. Who cares if they’ve gender and race swapped third-tier characters to make them more universally relatable? Who cares if the entire name of the film is a joke that doesn’t pay off until the final moments of the movie? 

Disney/Marvel has accomplished something no other corporation has in the history of motion pictures. They have created a brand so thoroughly saturated in pop culture that they can do literally anything they want and people will show up. The audience will buy the t-shirts, the action figures, and the limited edition popcorn buckets. Let’s never forget that that’s why these movies exist, and that’s the ONLY reason they exist. Film is a mirror that reflects who we are back at us, but the MCU, and so many movies like it, are merely products that exist to sell merchandise. The MCU could have (and probably should have) ended with Avengers: Endgame. So given all that, I suppose I’m thankful that at least Thunderbolts* tries to say something, instead of existing solely as a piece of IP that Disney can add to their license portfolio.