Marvel’s Thunderbolts is like assembling a dodgeball team from the school’s detention roster—and then sending them into a war zone. Directed by Jake Schreier, this grimy, morally murky chapter in the MCU feels less like a comic book movie and more like The Dirty Dozen with PTSD and government contracts. It’s Marvel’s version of The Suicide Squad—minus the talking shark and with way more brooding.
The squad includes fan-favorite Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), still wielding sarcasm as skillfully as she does her batons. She’s easily the film’s emotional anchor, injecting rare pathos between punches. Sebastian Stan’s Bucky Barnes plays grizzled and weary like he’s auditioning for a Clint Eastwood biopic. Then there’s Wyatt Russell’s John Walker—still a human fist in a Captain America costume, vibrating with insecurity and unresolved rage.
David Harbour’s Red Guardian delivers most of the laughs, though the script never quite decides if he’s comic relief or tragic relic. Hannah John-Kamen’s Ghost is, well, still ghosting in and out of relevance. Olga Kurylenko’s Taskmaster is back, but again underused—Marvel, we need to talk.
Plot-wise, Thunderbolts is a mission movie: insert team, recover weapon, double-cross incoming. Rinse, repeat. What saves it from total predictability is Schreier’s gritty, handheld cinematography and a pounding score by Henry Jackman that practically screams, “This isn’t your kid’s Avengers.” The color palette is all bruised steel and dusty concrete—more Jason Bourne than Iron Man.
The film’s biggest flaw? It forgets to be fun. Somewhere between the cynicism and moral ambiguity, the joy got lost. And with a cast this talented, that’s a crime.
Still, Thunderbolts has enough bite, brutality, and black ops intrigue to warrant its existence. It’s Marvel with blood under its fingernails—and maybe that’s the point. Just don’t expect to leave the theater grinning. You’ll be too busy questioning who the real villains are.
RHFC Rating: 8.5/10🍿
