Thunderbolts*’ redefines the charm of superhero lineups
For someone who had sworn off Marvel films (minus some reluctant watches every now and then), I wasn’t sure what to expect as I walked into the theatre to watch Thunderbolts*. To tell the truth, I was busy juggling a cup of soft drink and a tipping bucket of popcorn to do a last-minute rundown on my expectations. It didn’t help that my brother and I had just missed Marvel’s fanfare intro while we had yet to find our seats in the dark. I blame his consistent underestimation of his tardiness.
But we made it. Just in time to see Yelena Belova – who we’d first met during a Covid-friendly, indoor screening of Black Widow — in the middle of two death-dealing missions. I’ll avoid sharing the first one to curb spoilers. The second, and arguably the harder one, was her long-awaited challenge to please a tough crowd of MCU fans. Here’s where I’ll offer mild spoilers: Yelena succeeded, and so did her team of misfits.
‘Misfits’ is, perhaps, a loose term. ‘Companions’ seems more fitting, more grounded in what the film is all about – sticking together. For some, the idea of misunderstood anti-heroes triggers an automatic eye roll, since complexity seems to be out of fashion in a simple-minded, brainrotted era of human existence. But that is exactly where the appeal of this film lies. We’ve seen these characters before. Better yet, we’ve seen them fail. We’ve seen them at their worst. So how do they bounce back, if at all?
Better than the retirees?
Before Thunderbolts* could even influence my judgements, the superhero tentpole took me on a nostalgic trip. It reminded me of my long-running qualms about the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Hot and maybe indigestible take, but our original Avengers hardly felt like friends, or even a squad united by shared motivations safe for saving the world. Maybe that’s a good-enough reason to team up for some, but it is hardly sufficient to keep a motley crew tied together.
Aside from some signature MCU humour and the only woman in the team suggestively approaching almost every man, there were no emotional strings connecting all six of the original Avengers. Some might argue that it was never smooth-sailing for our heroes, that we got a literal civil war out of it. But if one can’t imagine a weighty conversation between Natasha and Thor, then that begs the question of why we even got a scene of a bench being hurled into oblivion in Avengers: Endgame.
So here’s what Thunderbolts* does better. It didn’t need to shoehorn friendship into a group that only had space for hostility. Boasting an accidental lineup of defective heroes, it never set out to create a billboard-friendly dream team – one that looked so good as a concept that it outranked futile things like a meaningful connection or a common purpose.
No, Thunderbolts* nurtures imperfection like it’s a battle scar, something that’s not worth romanticising but sticks with you as a reminder of your pain anyway. It is a film about flawed people who make flawed choices that land them in flawed circumstances. Instead of role models, it gives you weapons learning to become human again.
But weapons fire bullets, draw blood, and rein carnage. They may be used in defense, but they don’t promise kindness. That’s the point of Thunderbolts*; you can’t expect safety until the magazine is empty, until everything is out. And that’s exactly what our anti-heroes struggle with: letting go.
This failure, ironically, is what also brings them closer. Like a forced group therapy session. Because we all have to face our monsters eventually. And no, Avengers: Endgame, a slap over a panic attack is not the way to set off a massacre survivor’s healing process.
Thunderbolts* fixes that, along with many other things. In fact, the film is a star-speckled bandage over an MCU fan’s bruising, superhero-loving heart. And the best part is, it’s an easy fix. No over-complicated plotlines or supervillains, no extravagant invasions from space, just a battle of the mind. A war to win back one’s lost self-preservation.
A story for everyone
You know a superhero film has done a good job when you can’t pick a highlight. The narrative of Thunderbolts* unravels as gracefully as it is weaved, letting the audience grasp the twists of each thread. It is especially a treat if you’ve seen all those threads on different dresses before.
Each character represents an aspect of a mental low that hits where it hurts. There’s Florence Pugh’s Yelena, who is a crushing personification of denial and its eventual outburst. Then there’s her father, David Harbour’s Alexei Shostakov, who buries his emotions much like his daughter, though under the dregs of long-lost glory.
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