Thunderbolts* (2025)

Listen to this post:

After years of overstuffed narratives, forgettable villains, and an overreliance on the multiverse to generate excitement, Thunderbolts* arrives as a much-needed reset for Marvel. It’s a sharp, character-first film that favors substance over spectacle. Rather than pushing audiences toward the next franchise milestone, it draws them into a focused, emotionally grounded story about broken people trying to put themselves back together.

Helmed by Jake Schreier (Robot & Frank, Paper Towns), it’s not just the best Marvel movie in years – it’s proof the studio can still tell meaningful, human stories.

via YouTube

The plot centers on Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), worn down and disillusioned after years of being used by people in power. Hoping for a quiet desk job, she agrees to one last assignment – only to discover it’s a trap. She’s locked inside a high-security facility tied to a corrupt government contractor – an off-the-books operation Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) once helped build and now wants to bury. Yelena is joined by other forgotten assets: Ghost (Hannah John-Kamen), unstable and haunted by her own body; John Walker (Wyatt Russell), still carrying the stain of his time as Captain America; a mysterious, soft-spoken man named Bob (Lewis Pullman); and Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), now a congressman whose investigation into the company got him too close to the truth. Each of them is there for a reason – and none of them were meant to leave.

What sets Thunderbolts* apart is its emotional intelligence. This isn’t a team-up for spectacle’s sake – it’s a story about people reckoning with who they are and who they’ve been. Each character carries wounds that don’t just inform their decisions – they define them. The film gives that pain room to breathe. The team dynamic feels more like a pressure cooker than a buddy comedy. There’s levity, but it never undermines the emotional weight. Every laugh is earned. Every breakthrough feels hard-won. These aren’t heroes trying to save the world – they’re trying to survive it, and maybe find something worth holding onto in the process.

The film’s central threat – the Void – is more than a villain. It’s a metaphor for depression: the numbness, the grief, the creeping sense of unreality that takes hold when you no longer recognize yourself. It represents that hollow space where identity erodes and connection feels unreachable. Visually, it’s brought to life through haunting, graphic novel-style sequences that blur the line between inner torment and external threat. The result is unsettling but grounded, never losing emotional clarity. The action isn’t just thrilling – it’s purposeful. Every confrontation doubles as an internal struggle, making the stakes feel deeply personal and painfully real.

The cast is firing on all cylinders. Florence Pugh delivers a standout performance as Yelena, mixing sharp humor with real emotional depth. David Harbour brings big laughs as Red Guardian but also anchors the film with surprising tenderness – the father-daughter bond between him and Yelena gives the story a warm, beating heart. Sebastian Stan finally steps into a fully-realized version of Bucky Barnes: grounded, composed, and quietly powerful. But it’s Lewis Pullman who may leave the deepest impression. As Bob/Sentry/The Void, he takes on the film’s most difficult role: a hollowed-out man locked in quiet, constant war with himself. Wyatt Russell and Hannah John-Kamen also shine, giving John Walker and Ghost the emotional dimension their characters have long deserved.

Thunderbolts* doesn’t exist to launch spin-offs or build a new phase – it’s focused, intimate, and intentional. It proves that you don’t need endless cameos or universe-shattering stakes to make a story matter. Sometimes, it’s enough to care deeply about a few broken people trying to change. In a fitting twist, just three days after release, Marvel dropped the placeholder title and unveiled the official name: The New Avengers. If this is the next generation taking the lead, the torch hasn’t just been passed – it’s burning brighter than it has in years.