Thunderbolts misfires: Marvel’s antiheroes fall short

Directed by Jake Schreier, Thunderbolt's ensemble tale digs into the emotional core of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), blending raw vulnerability with explosive action. Marvel's 36th cinematic chapter and the final note of Phase Five try to answer a provocative question: can the broken save the world when they're barely holding themselves together?

Thunderbolts soars when it embraces its human heart, but falters when it succumbs to the formulaic rhythms of the MCU. The result is a mixed bag—an uneven blend of heartfelt highs and frustrating lows.

Thunderbolts assemble a motley crew of MCU sidekicks and rogues, Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), Red Guardian (David Harbour), John Walker (Wyatt Russell), Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), Taskmaster (Olga Kurylenko), and newcomer Bob (Lewis Pullman) under the manipulative thumb of Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus).

The story follows these disillusioned antiheroes navigating a high-stakes mission orchestrated by de Fontaine, a scheming CIA director facing political scrutiny. 

The film's strength lies in its balance of MCU humour and emotional gravitas, particularly through Yelena's sharp wit and Red Guardian's endearing nostalgia. However, some characters suffer from repetitive jokes, and uneven dialogue distribution weakens the ensemble's cohesion. 

Trying to juggle seven principal characters is no small feat, and here, the script struggles. Many team members are reduced to narrative tools or comic relief, robbing them of emotional nuance and shortchanging their arcs. This imbalance ultimately undermines the ensemble format the film strives for.

While Thunderbolts aspires to be character-driven and grounded, the pacing is inconsistent—slow and meandering in the setup, then rushed and chaotic in its climax. The film's indie-tinged ambitions clash with the commercial machinery of the MCU, leading to narrative whiplash. The result is a film that feels both innovative and constrained—simultaneously bold and bound by expectations.

Visually, cinematographer Andrew Droz Palermo employs a desaturated, muted palette to mirror the team's emotional bleakness. Shadowy interiors and drained colours underscore themes of despair and isolation. While this aesthetic reinforces the film's tone, it occasionally veers into monotony, creating a mood that feels more stifling than immersive.

The soundtrack, crafted by Son Lux, is a standout—blending pulsating electronica with melancholic undertones that echo the film's emotional tension. Unfortunately, the visual effects fail to leave a similar impression. 

Though technically competent, they lack the grandeur and inventiveness of top-tier MCU entries. Sparing use of CGI in favour of practical sets gives the film a more tactile realism, but the effects work feels routine and uninspired, rendering action scenes competent yet forgettable.

Where Thunderbolts does dare to tread new ground is in its exploration of mental health—still a rarity in the superhero genre. Yelena's arc, centred on grief and disconnection, grounds the film emotionally. Florence Pugh delivers a raw and relatable performance, depicting the quiet exhaustion of depression through scenes of "sweatpants lethargy" and late-night honesty.

Bob's storyline adds further depth, exploring the intersection of loneliness, identity, and superhuman burden. His quiet internal conflict stands in contrast to the bombast around him, offering a moment of genuine introspection.

Other characters hint at psychological complexity—Bucky remains haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier; Ghost struggles with instability; Red Guardian seeks validation through bravado—but these arcs are left largely undercooked. The film gestures toward depth but retreats too quickly, favouring broad emotional strokes over true exploration.

This restraint—perhaps a reaction to the fear of being too heavy-handed—leaves the film's engagement with mental health feeling incomplete. Yelena and Bob are well-served, but others are reduced to tropes or abandoned mid-arc, blunting the impact of what could have been a defining theme.

The unevenness in character development is Thunderbolts' greatest flaw. Pugh anchors the film with charisma and emotional weight. Lewis Pullman is competent as Bob, offering understated intensity. David Harbour continues to charm, imbuing Red Guardian with humour and heart. The father-daughter chemistry between Harbour and Pugh remains a highlight.

Yet the rest of the cast—particularly Bucky, John Walker, Ghost, and Taskmaster—are short-changed. Sebastian Stan brings gravitas, but his character is relegated to a superficial role. John Walker and Ghost are written as hollow archetypes, and Taskmaster, once again, is reduced to a near-silent enforcer.

There's a clear ambition to interrogate trauma, failure, the search for meaning, and the cost of heroism. But the film spreads itself too thin, sacrificing depth in favour of Marvel's familiar beats—extended action sequences, scattered humour, and laboured references to obscure lore. This dilutes the emotional resonance and makes the team feel unbalanced.

The third act, in particular, rushes towards resolution, tying up character arcs with unearned sentimentality or leaving them dangling. It undercuts the film's strongest moments and robs the finale of emotional payoff.

In the end, Thunderbolts dares to explore the MCU's darker, messier edges, but stumbles in its execution. Its brave focus on mental health and its ensemble of broken characters offer promise, but this is undermined by erratic pacing and superficial storytelling. As the finale of Phase Five, it reflects Marvel's broader struggle to evolve—caught between innovation and a formula that's beginning to show its age.

Once the defining force of 21st-century cinema, the MCU now finds itself at a crossroads. Thunderbolts feels like a relic—an ambitious yet uneven effort from a franchise increasingly out of sync with contemporary storytelling.