Marvel’s Thunderbolts is a Good Movie. But That’s No Longer Enough.

Why Thunderbolts Flopped (and Why Moviegoing Isn’t What It Used to Be)

“Thunderbolts is on track to earn less money than Black Adam (2022) and Eternals (2021). That sentence would’ve made sense a few years ago — not now.”

That stat hit me like a sledgehammer. Not because Thunderbolts was expected to shatter records — but because I saw it. And it was good.

So why did no one show up?

The short answer? We’ve been trained not to.

The long answer? Superhero burnout. Studio cynicism. And an industry that hollowed out the theater experience and now wonders why it feels empty.

AMC played that Nicole Kidman ad three times in a row before Thor: Love & Thunder. They’re trying to stir awe. What they stirred was exhaustion.

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I. How Did We Get Here?

There was a time when “Marvel movie” meant an automatic trip to the theater. Now? It means Googling the release date to decide whether to wait 45 days or 60.

Thunderbolts might be the biggest casualty yet.

To be fair, the optics didn’t help. A team of Marvel’s B- and C-listers patched together during a franchise cooldown? It looked like filler.

But what casual audiences didn’t know — unless they bought a ticket — is that Thunderbolts is the most emotionally grounded Marvel film since Infinity War.

And yet: it didn’t matter.

Because being good isn’t the same as being relevant.

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II. The 90-Day Streaming Window Problem

A. We Trained Ourselves to Wait

Theater used to be the destination. Now it’s the trailer for the real event: streaming.

The pandemic rewired us. Studios leaned on streaming to survive — but never fully turned back. Instead, they set a new expectation: just wait a few weeks, and everything lands on Disney+, Max, or Prime.

That expectation stuck.

We don’t line up for midnight showings anymore. We go to YouTube, check out spoiler-free reviews, and decide if it’s worth waiting 30 to 60 days.

And studios made that wait feel easy — even logical.

“Studios trained us to be patient — and now they’re shocked we don’t show up on opening weekend.”

We’re not guessing here. The average theatrical-to-streaming window in the U.S. is now about 32 days. Disney averages closer to 60, but the damage is done. By the time the marketing machine hits its stride, the movie is halfway to your living room.

The urgency’s gone. And so is the FOMO.

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B. The Cost-Convenience Equation

Now let’s talk money.

You can drop $70+ to take your family to the theater — or stay home and watch the same movie on a platform you already pay for.

You can spend $8 on a Coke and $12 on popcorn — or order wings and beer for a living room watch party.

This isn’t complicated.

“Why go to a theater when I can stay home, make my own popcorn, and not sit next to someone live-tweeting the entire plot?”

(Yes, that happened to me during a Dogma screening. She was tagging Kevin Smith.)

It’s not just about cost — it’s about value. Audiences don’t want to feel like they paid for early access to something “mid.” And when the streaming date is public knowledge, the theater becomes optional by design.

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III. Eternals, Black Adam, and the Rotten Echo

The trust didn’t break with Thunderbolts. That fracture started years ago.

Once upon a time, putting “Marvel” or “DC” on a title guaranteed turnout. Now it guarantees skepticism.

Why? Because recent entries either played it too safe or tried too hard to “reinvent” themselves — and failed on both counts.

Eternals was a brooding tone poem no one asked for. Black Adam was a vanity project with less personality than its own marketing campaign.

“We used to gather in droves for these events. Now, the theater doesn’t even know which one to play.”

(True story: when I saw Wakanda Forever, AMC accidentally started screening Black Adam instead. Ten minutes of confusion. Everyone thought we were being punked.)

Those misfires planted doubt. And that doubt grew fast.

People stopped trusting the label. And in a crowded content world, trust is everything.

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Franchise Burnout and Timeline Confusion

Even die-hard fans are struggling.

Prequels, spin-offs, animated side quests, post-credit teasers that tease other post-credit teasers — it’s exhausting.

“If everything’s connected in a cinematic universe, why does none of it feel important anymore?”

Thunderbolts is a perfect example. It’s a good movie. But most people don’t know who the characters are, where the story fits, or whether it matters.

And if it doesn’t feel essential, it won’t become essential.

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IV. The Decline of the Theater Experience

Now let’s talk about the space itself — and why so many people are choosing to skip it.

Here’s what the average theater visit feels like in 2025:

• Understaffed front desk.

• Dim screens. Muffled audio.

• Empty concession stations.

• Broken recliners.

• Abandoned arcade rooms that look like horror set pieces.

It’s not “premium.” It’s a $19 gamble.

Add in the etiquette problem — phones, chatter, chaos — and you’re paying luxury prices for a vibe that feels anything but.

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The Midnight Premiere Is Dead

I’ll never forget my first midnight screening: The Dark Knight Rises. I was 14. Everyone was buzzing. Joking. Comparing theories. Taking selfies in front of posters.

Cut to The Marvels on opening night at the biggest IMAX in town: half full. No energy. No chatter. Just phones and fatigue.

“Going to the movies used to feel like an event. Now it feels like a gamble.”

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Bonus Rant: The Popcorn Bucket Problem

Theaters are getting desperate. Case in point: the Great Popcorn Bucket Boom of 2024.

Yes, some are fun. The Deadpool & Wolverine bucket? Hilarious. The Dune: Part Two sandworm? Iconic (and terrifying). But then there’s the Galactus head from Fantastic Four — a 1.5-foot-tall plastic monument to overkill.

“Studios know we aren’t coming for the movie — so they’re hoping we’ll show up for the bucket.”

It’s gimmick over substance. Merch as bait. Spectacle as distraction.

And none of it addresses the root problem: if the movie isn’t worth the trip, no $35 collectible will save it.

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V. What Needs to Change

A. Stop Publishing Streaming Dates

Let movies breathe. Let curiosity grow. If people think they only have one shot to catch something, they’ll act on it. But if they know it’s coming to streaming in four weeks, why bother?

B. Make Theaters Worth It Again

Clean the screens. Fix the sound. Hire enough staff to run the building like it matters. Then go a step further:

• Theme nights.

• Double features.

• Filmmaker Q&As.

• Reasonably priced snacks (please).

Remind people why the cinema was always different from just watching a movie.

C. Make Better Movies

This shouldn’t be a radical idea.

But the fastest way to fix the theater problem is to make movies worth seeing in a theater.

Think:

• Top Gun: Maverick

• Oppenheimer

• Spider-Man: No Way Home

• Everything Everywhere All At Once

These weren’t content drops. They were moments. They made you feel like part of something bigger.

“A good movie can make you forget you’re in a sticky seat with a $7 soda. A bad one reminds you every minute.”

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VI. Conclusion

Thunderbolts deserved better.

But it was released into a system that has taught audiences to be skeptical, cautious, and patient. Even a good movie can’t undo that overnight.

This isn’t about one film. It’s about years of erosion — of trust, of habit, of wonder.

The industry built this model. They can’t be surprised people stopped showing up. They have to rebuild the ritual from the ground up.

Bring back the spark. Make it feel like something worth being part of again.

Because in 2025?

“It might be a good movie. But that’s no longer enough.”