In Thunderbolts*, Jake Schreier takes us to a Depression Support Convention. Unfortunately, everything and everyone is terribly sober, so whenever something resembling fun comes up, it's immediately drowned in pity and pathos. The script, written by Joanna Calo and Eric Pearson, basically tries to convince us to root for some sad, lonely bums, and we would have cheered for these underdogs if their whole personality wasn't just "Please hug me I am depressed." Yelena (Florence Pugh) is mourning because her sister is dead. John Walker (Wyatt Russell), the dime store Captain America, is sad because, um, family problems. Alexei Shostakov/Red Guardian (David Harbour) is unhappy because he doesn't feel wanted. Ava Starr/Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen) was apparently in Ant-Man and the Wasp, but I don't remember much about her or the film itself. That, I guess, is a reason to feel sad. Finally, there is Bob (Lewis Pullman), the big boss of depression. He is the Void - literally. That's the name of his villain side, who turns New Yorkers into shadows and covers the city with darkness. But what happens when you get converted into a shadow? Well, look at Yelena for answers. She gets to see all her bad memories in a loop. How's that for entertainment?
You must be thinking that every character must be trapped within their own bad memory loop. Well, think again. You can also...enter into another person's nightmare? How? Thunderbolts* has no time for answers. It simply throws Yelena's buddies into the same room with her, and the logic of how they achieved this is meant to be ignored by the audience. The filmmakers merely want us to consider Bob/Sentry/Void as - are you ready for this? - a visual metaphor for depression. He actually, from head to toe, becomes black. Calo, Pearson, and Schreier are so happy with their symbol or whatever that they fail to make a superhero movie that's actually funny, entertaining, and enjoyable. Void could have been an intimidating, powerful villain. He could have swallowed the whole gang with his "shadowy" strength. The filmmakers, however, put a kill switch long before leaving the doors open for doomsday. Very early on, it becomes evident that all Bob needs is support and friendship from other humans. So when everybody hugs him during the "boss battle," you merely yawn and whisper, "I told you so," to...well, either the screen or your friend. There is only so much tension and so much suspense you can generate while working with a predetermined, preplanned, predigested material. Since you quickly get a grip on the villain's weakness, you don't experience the menace. And Thunderbolts*, by being as predictable as other Marvel productions, simply proves your intuitions right through a schmaltzy, hug-me-tight climax.
Alexei, with his Dad Energy, is the only character who tries to inject humor into this soppy sludge. Harbour wakes up his inner child for this role and does his best to wake the film up from a deep slumber. When Alexei is on the screen, he sucks the depressing energy out of the movie's body, and he's mostly successful. The filmmakers only manage to reach Alexei's level during one scene where Bob, Ghost, Walker, and Yelena hold each other and attempt to escape from a covert O.X.E facility. The other moments of amusement fall under the typical Marvel movie banter: A serious exchange is undermined by a jokey comment. This trick has now turned into a dull cliché. But what's worse - or perhaps inadvertently humorous - is the fact that Thunderbolts* doesn't trust its audience to pay attention. Hence, events are recapped through dialogues, such as in the scene where Bucky holds down Yelena, Ghost, Bob, and Red Guardian. This could have been a much, much better film if the filmmakers had dropped the pretense of being so serious. They should have just made a big-budget, high-CGI blockbuster. Whenever Thunderbolts* gives us action sequences, it stimulates at least some of our senses. The thrilling sensations, however, are quickly interrupted by the heavy flow of dejection. The rhythms, as a result, are very jarring - there is little to no momentum. No wonder the movie feels so inelegant. You wonder how visually inventive a scene like the one where the characters go from one depressing room to another could have been in the hands of a director like Scott Derrickson (that Open Your Eye sequence in Doctor Strange is still one of the most stunning sequences in a Marvel movie ever). Schreier and gang, meanwhile, open your eyes to banal, superficial content. They are more interested in meanings and messages, and their aims don't sit well with a franchise that leans towards popcorn entertainment (lately, this franchise has become disposable entertainment). Thunderbolts*, then, is nothing but a teaser for future Marvel installments. It's a pitch: a marketing strategy to capture a new audience (people suffering from depression). Like many recent MCU films, it goes out with a whimper, though not before promising an enticing future. The fans are still screaming during post-credits scenes. Only time will tell if they will turn into shadows or if their patience - their anticipation for something big and brilliant - will be rewarded.
Final Score- [3.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times