I’m not going to get into too many spoilers for this movie, but I mention at least one really big one. And it seems Marvel studios isn’t waiting around to spread the news, either. so read at your own risk.
Thunderbolts*: A Bold Swing Back Into Cinematic Form
Opening night for Thunderbolts* came with the usual crowd chaos—but thankfully, the movie made it more than worth the trip. It’s not perfect, but it’s a clear step in the right direction for Marvel Studios. If you’ve been missing that Phase 2 magic, there’s a good chance this one will scratch the itch.
Standouts and Surprises
One of the biggest ways this felt like Marvel’s back to caring about their content is that they’re back to bringing in lesser-known names to take over big roles, rather than relying on the hype generated by choosing an A-Lister that doesn’t fit the vibe of the film or may be too big to direct. I don’t know if I’m being sarcastic enough so I’ll admit I’m referring to “Bob,” or Sentry, which was originally supposed to be played by Steven Yeun but was instead given to Lewis Pullman—an absolute standout in this film. What they’re doing with Bob is not only visually engaging, but narratively clever. He isn’t a hero by any means, and he’s afraid to even try to be one. It feels like Marvel is taking a risk here, and I’m genuinely excited to see where it leads.
Red Guardian continues to steal scenes, with David Harbour delivering just the right blend of humor and weight. My wife Alexis especially loved his moments—and so did I. He brings a grounded levity that really works within this group dynamic.
Marvel Fanfare Makes a Return
One of the most pleasant surprises came right at the beginning: the Marvel fanfare intro is back after its brief absence in Captain America 4 last February, this time with a movie-specific spin. It set the tone immediately, feeling purposeful and cinematic. Maybe a direct response to criticism over Brave New World? Either way, it worked.
Strong Foundation, Shaky Build
There’s no doubt the story is there—interesting, emotionally charged, and anchored by characters with actual potential. To me, Thunderbolts* is the first Marvel movie in awhile that made me go “oh, someone made this movie because they have a message that they want to be heard.”
Yelena is the only character who really changes, though, and that uneven development is hard to ignore. The film feels like it wants to be character-driven, but can’t quite commit across the board.
Stylistically, this feels far more polished than many recent Marvel entries. The soundtrack fits, the visuals pop, and the tone is consistent. Still, there’s a lack of cohesion—like a strong sketch of a movie that needed one more pass in the writers’ room to pull it all together. This could also be the result of rewrites and reshoots, which were evident in certain areas (either Julia Louis-Dreyfus had a scheduling conflict that kept her from shooting with the rest of the cast, or she had to redo a lot of her scenes later by herself—I can hardly find any images of her with her roster of heroes except in that one tower scene).
Stuck in Place—And Why That Might Be the Point
Thunderbolts* makes an interesting, almost subversive choice with several of its key characters—John Walker, Bucky Barnes, Red Guardian, and even Bob. On the surface, most of them seem static, unchanged from their previous appearances. It would be easy to call them two-dimensional here. But the film seems to want us to notice that—and even interrogate it.
For Walker, Bucky, and Red Guardian, the movie doesn’t hand them sweeping arcs or forced emotional breakthroughs. Instead, it paints them as men who have either plateaued or settled into a version of themselves that they can live with—flawed, but not beyond redemption. The underlying message feels intentional: not everyone becomes someone new. Some just learn how to be better with who they already are.
And then there’s Bob—by far the most compelling example. Unlike the others, the film gives him real depth, exploring his mental state and the way he copes with fear, doubt, and trauma. His arc feels deeply personal and surprisingly resonant. It’s not about conquering fear through brute force, but rather learning to approach it with the right mindset. If you don’t, the movie suggests, fear can still consume you—even if you look like you’ve moved on.
This thread—about redemption, the limits of change, and the internal battles we often lose quietly—grounds the movie in a way that makes its messier elements easier to forgive. These characters may not evolve in big, flashy ways, but the fact that they’re still trying matters. Sometimes, that’s enough.
The Women of Thunderbolts*: Unapologetic, Unflinching, and Unraveling
If the men in Thunderbolts* are defined by emotional stasis and buried demons, the women stand in sharp contrast—not because they’re emotionally open, but because they operate with a kind of unapologetic clarity. They don’t explain themselves. They don’t second-guess. They act, and they do so with frightening conviction.
Take Ghost, for example. When she kills Taskmaster, it’s handled with jarring casualness. There’s no drama, no hesitation. It’s just… done. It’s a mission objective, nothing more. The scene is chilling in how normalized death and violence have become for these characters. The film downplays killing early and often, not to be edgy, but to highlight how numb these people have become. Death is just background noise now.
Even Yelena, who’s positioned to be the heart of the group, begins the movie emotionally dulled. She masks it with sarcasm and wit, but underneath, she’s just as desensitized as the others—until she isn’t. Thunderbolts* gives her the space to unravel a bit, to hit a breaking point and finally let the cracks show. That moment of vulnerability becomes the hinge point of the entire film. She changes—and crucially, she applies that change immediately by helping Bob confront his own fear. That sequence is one of the most human in the film, and arguably the most hopeful.
Then there’s Val. She’s not a hero, and the movie never pretends otherwise. She’s manipulative, callous, and directly responsible for much of the pain we witness—but she’s also a product of the same brutal system as the others, which the film hints at for the first time, ever so slightly. What sets her apart is how little she pretends to be anything but ruthless. She’s not haunted, because she’s never looked back. That doesn’t redeem her, but it does make her a fascinating counterpoint to the others who are drowning in what they’ve done—or what they’ve failed to do.
Together, these women don’t just balance the film—they drive it. They show what happens when survival becomes your only metric for success, and they challenge the idea that numbness is strength. In Thunderbolts*, it’s not the strongest who lead—it’s the ones who are finally ready to feel something again.
The Ending and What Comes Next
I’ll just say plainly that the ending is surprising, having Val reveal the thunderbolts* to the world as *the new avengers. hence the asterisk that I know you’re annoyed with by now.
it carries a great level of shock value, and it made for a really fun reveal in the movie theater on opening night. It sort of works against the idea that I mentioned earlier, though, that this is the first time in awhile that Marvel has seemingly cared this much about the quality and cohesion of a production; rather, it kind of gives off the idea that they may be making up for lost time by scraping up a team of heroes that seem like the superhero equivalent to loose change. or maybe it’s just that it feels like Marvel is covering a little too much ground by making this Thunderbolts team the “new avengers,” like it just happened too quickly to position things properly for their later plans. orrrrrrr maybe it’s just that this is the first movie of real substance that makes it feel like there’s more to look forward to in the story being told.
Because when you consider the fact that some of these characters have years’ worth of history in the MCU already and don’t need further introduction before they’re catapulted into whatever role they’re going to play, you grasp the truth that these characters just need good stories to live in. and with the movie Thunderbolts*, now they do.
all-in-all, the asterisk being teased so early on was definitely worth it. It actually helped restore a little of my belief that there’s still an endgame to all of this, even after the actual Avengers: Endgame.
As for the narrative implications it created, I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but I am intrigued. That might be the best compliment I can give—this movie left me curious, which hasn’t always been the case with the post-Endgame slate.
Final Thoughts
Despite an audience that made it hard to stay immersed, it sort of contributed to how Thunderbolts* reminded me of the Marvel movies that used to get it right. It’s messy, but it has guts, and the crowd loved that. I’m giving it 4 stars for its ambition, its standout performances, and the fact that I already want to watch it again. If Marvel can build from this instead of backing away from it, the future could be interesting.
A Story About Survival, Not Salvation
Thunderbolts* may not be the most structurally sound Marvel movie, but it knows exactly what it wants to say about its characters. It’s a film less about grand transformations and more about the quiet, messy business of survival. These aren’t heroes finding their footing—they’re damaged people trying to stay upright in a world that’s stopped asking questions and started keeping score.
The men are mostly frozen, stuck in loops of regret or denial, while the women charge forward—numb, ruthless, or both. Some are trying to feel again. Some have long since stopped. And some, like Bob, are learning how to confront fear instead of burying it. Yelena, in particular, becomes the emotional bridge between these extremes—someone whose numbness gives way to action, and whose growth makes everyone else’s stillness feel that much more tragic.
There’s no neat resolution here (for the characters, that is). John Walker isn’t reunited with his wife and son by the end of the movie. Ghost can’t bring Taskmaster back after killing her (even if she wanted to). That might frustrate some viewers. But Thunderbolts* earns its complexity by refusing to force hope where it doesn’t belong. It’s not asking us to root for perfect people—it’s asking us to look at what’s left of them, and to decide whether there’s still something worth saving.
It’s messy. It’s flawed. But it sticks with you. And for a Marvel movie in 2025? That’s saying something.
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