Can Marvel reclaim the acclaim they once had? It’s a question that’s been hanging over the franchise like a storm cloud ever since the Multiverse saga began struggling to recapture the magic of the Infinity era. After a string of uneven projects and brand fatigue that’s become impossible to ignore, Thunderbolts arrives as something of a surprise. While it’s not the most accessible movie for casual audiences - and certainly not the flashiest - this grim, emotionally grounded antihero story just might be the best thing the studio has put out in years.
From the start, Thunderbolts banks heavily on Florence Pugh’s Yelena Belova, a gamble that pays off in spades. Pugh has long been one of the MVPs of Marvel’s post-Endgame era, but here she’s finally given the weight and focus she deserves. Yelena is the film’s emotional center, a haunted assassin still aimless and aching years after the events of Black Widow and Hawkeye. She’s not chasing glory or redemption - she’s just trying to feel something. Anything. It’s a surprisingly honest portrayal of depression and disillusionment, and Pugh nails it with every wry remark, every quietly devastating glance.
She’s not alone in the misery. Thunderbolts assembles a cast of secondary and forgotten MCU characters, some of whom haven’t been seen in years. There’s David Harbour’s Red Guardian, finally more endearing and funny here than he ever was in Black Widow. His jokes land, but more importantly, they come from a place of pain and regret. Sebastian Stan’s Bucky Barnes doesn’t even really enter the picture until halfway through, but his arrival gives the film an extra shot of gravitas and camaraderie. Wyatt Russell’s John Walker and Hannah John-Kamen’s Ghost round out the main team, though it’s unfortunately Ghost who gets the short end of the stick team-wise. Despite the promise of her phasing powers and tormented backstory, she’s still not given much room for her character to be explored.
But even with Marvel’s usual unevenness in character prioritization, there’s something uniquely effective about seeing this particular group come together. These are the castoffs, the unstable, the unwanted. They're not B-tier heroes - they’re C-tier. And that’s precisely what makes Thunderbolts work so well. The movie leans into their obscurity, using it as a narrative strength rather than a weakness. Their pain feels real. Their cynicism feels earned. And their redemption, or lack thereof, carries actual weight.
In a universe that has often become too shiny and quippy for its own good, Thunderbolts isn’t afraid to get ugly. The central threat isn’t some world-ending supervillain but something much more insidious and intangible: the void. A dark, all-consuming nothingness that lures these broken people with the promise of peace. Painless, eternal, quiet. It’s a metaphor for suicidal ideation and emotional numbness, and the film doesn’t treat it lightly. Instead, it digs deep into each character’s psyche and explores what it really means to choose to live - not just survive, but actually live - when it feels like the world doesn’t care if you do or not.
There’s also a strong undercurrent of critique about American exceptionalism woven through Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), the government agent pulling the strings behind this new team. She wants her own Avengers - superpowered operatives to defend U.S. interests - and she doesn’t care if they’re unstable or unwell. There’s something chilling about her casual cruelty and manipulation, and Geraldine Viswanathan, as her assistant Mel, provides an unexpected yet welcome burst of humanity and biting humor. Viswanathan (Poker Face, Drive-Away Dolls) is a subtle scene-stealer throughout.
Then there’s Bob. The wild card. Played with unnerving sweetness by Lewis Pullman, Bob - better known to comic fans as the Sentry - is Thunderbolts’ ticking time bomb. A mentally fragile man gifted with godlike power, he’s a walking commentary on what happens when you give a Steve Rogers-level superhero serum to someone without Steve Rogers’ emotional stability or moral righteousness. His arc is equal parts tragic and terrifying, and it adds a volatile unpredictability to the team’s already shaky dynamic.
One of the strongest sequences in the film comes early on, when Yelena, Ghost, Taskmaster, and John Walker clash in a brutal and gritty brawl. It’s a brilliantly choreographed fight that doesn’t feel like a slick CG light show - it feels like a desperate struggle between damaged people trying to assert control over a situation they never asked for. It also helps that the film, directed with a steady hand by Jake Schreier (Beef), has a tactile look and feel that’s often missing from Marvel’s more polished entries.
The finale, set in a refurbished Avengers Tower, carries echoes of 2012’s original Avengers climax, but flips the iconography on its head. Instead of noble heroes in gleaming suits, we have morally gray misfits scrambling to stop something they don’t fully understand. There’s still heroism - civilians are saved, sacrifice is made - but it’s laced with melancholy and uncertainty. The cheesiness that plagues most Marvel endings does start to seep in here towards the end, but thankfully, it never fully overwhelms the deeper emotional throughline.
The ending also offers up one of the MCU’s better finales. After everything, Thunderbolts dares to offer a little hope, a little light. It’s a reminder that community, even a dysfunctional one, can be the thing that saves us from ourselves. That found family still matters. That these characters - flawed, forgotten, and forsaken - deserve love too.
Marvel’s greatest strength has always been its characters. When the studio gets that right, the rest tends to fall into place. Thunderbolts understands this better than most of the recent slate. It’s not just a course correction - it’s a spark. A sign that the studio still has life left in it. That the best stories in the MCU might still be ahead of us.
'Thunderbolts' is now playing in theaters.
