Thunderbolts* | Directed by Jake Schreier // Starring Florence Pugh, Sebastian Stan, David Harbour, Wyatt Russell, Hannah John‑Kamen, Julia Louis‑Dreyfus, and Lewis Pullman
Summary (Spoiler-Free): Thunderbolts* gathers a ragtag team of morally ambiguous anti‑heroes sent by the CIA to confront a looming threat. As trust fractures and past traumas resurface, what could’ve been another action flick turns into something strikingly human: a journey through grief, guilt, and the hard road to redemption.
I genuinely believe Thunderbolts is the strongest Marvel project in years. It’s the first MCU film in a long time that felt emotionally resonant rather than just visually flashy. The story centers on grief—yes, grief—in a big superhero movie, and it works. It’s astonishing they leaned into that; the film is quieter, darker, and far more introspective than you expect. Yet it never loses its sense of momentum or stakes.
Jake Schreier’s direction was a welcome jolt. He treats this as a character-driven story—there’s space for real emotional beats, not just special effects. The film carries stylistic echoes of A24, blending grounded moments with bold visuals, and even borrows that haunting overhead fight shot you’d expect in indie thrillers—not just blockbuster set‑pieces. The result is tight, focused, and makes me very excited to see what he could do next, especially with the X‑Men universe, as he's been tapped to direct that for Marvel.
This movie belongs to Florence Pugh. She’s spectacular as Yelena Belova, bringing real emotional complexity and leadership to the story. No superpowers, no gimmicks, just raw humanity, presence, and talent. Marvel should absolutely build around her strength. Lewis Pullman’s “Bob” also surprised me; the emotional depth he brings, especially in his bond with Yelena, is genuinely moving. And the rest of the cast, Stan, Harbour, Russell, and Louis-Dreyfus — round out a group with both chemistry and real emotional stakes.
What stunned me most about Thunderbolts was just how much of it is about grief — real, complicated, human grief. Not the kind of grief that gets a quick montage and a pep talk before the next explosion, but the kind that lingers, shapes you, and sometimes breaks you.
Each character is carrying their own version of it. Yelena is still haunted by the loss of Natasha, but more than that, she’s struggling with the guilt of what her life has become without her sister’s guidance. Bucky's trauma is practically stitched into his bones. Every scene with him is laced with the quiet ache of a man trying to move on without really knowing how. Bob, a character many probably expected to be comic relief, ends up being the emotional heart of the film. His grief feels raw and recent, and his arc, especially in how it intersects with Yelena’s, is one of the most affecting parts of the movie.
What’s incredible is that the movie doesn’t treat these emotional threads as subplots. They’re the point. Yes, there’s action. Yes, there are superhero elements. But beneath all of that is a story about people who are broken. Some are trying to heal, some are pretending they’re fine, and some don't even realize how deeply they’re hurting.
And it’s not just about sadness. It’s the messiness of grief that the film captures so well. The anger. The detachment. The weird moments of laughter. The way you isolate yourself, even when you’re surrounded by people going through the exact same thing. It’s beautifully written, and it hit me in a way I genuinely didn’t expect from a Marvel film. I didn’t walk out of Thunderbolts feeling like I saw the next big setup for Phase Whatever, even though the ending literally does just that (no spoilers, but I'm sure you've already seen it). I walked out feeling like I’d just seen a superhero story that actually understands people. That’s a rare thing. And it’s what makes Thunderbolts feel truly special.
Let’s talk action. Thunderbolts isn’t exactly wall-to-wall with it, and if you’re coming in expecting the set pieces of Infinity War or Civil War, you might be disappointed or surprised by how restrained it is. But when the action does hit, it works. It’s tight, grounded, and surprisingly brutal at times. You can feel the weight behind every punch, every hit, every desperate move.
There’s one particular fight sequence that was done all in one take that reminded me just how good Marvel can be at choreography when they keep things small and intimate. It’s not super flashy, but it was a standout, and it feels earned because we actually care about who’s fighting and why.
Do I wish there was more of it? Yeah, of course. It’s a superhero movie, so you want a little more spectacle. But honestly, the fact that I didn’t miss it too much says a lot about how strong the story and performances were. The movie knew what it wanted to say, and it didn’t drown it out in explosions. So while I wouldn’t have minded one more set piece or two, I walked away satisfied.
Two spoilers here so keep scrolling if you haven't seen the film yet...
The New Avengers ending? Honestly, that was just ok for me. It felt less like a natural story beat and more like a calculated setup, the kind of move that screams “next phase marketing” rather than something that grows organically from the characters or the plot. It was an interesting swing, and I respect the attempt to push things forward, but it felt oddly hollow. Like we were supposed to be hyped because of the idea of it, not because it earned that moment.
Then there’s the post-credits scene. The tease for the Fantastic Four was cool and it garnered a cheer in my theater. But it also felt like it gave away a bit too much. Instead of a mysterious tease, it laid out some major implications that probably would’ve hit harder if saved for their own film. It's like I know the ending of the Fantastic Four movie before it even comes out.
These weren’t deal-breakers by any stretch — just a few moments that reminded me this is still a massive interconnected universe with moving parts to manage. Sometimes that works in a film’s favor. Other times, like here, it can make the storytelling feel just a bit… corporatized.
Thunderbolts isn’t just another superhero team-up. It’s Marvel finally remembering it can do more than explosions. It can feel. The story about grief surprised me and gave me hope for the future. The acting, especially from Florence Pugh, made me question if I was actually watching a Marvel movie. I walked out the theater genuinely excited about Marvel’s next phase. If this is the future of the MCU? Count me all the way in.
.png)
.svg)
