Director Report Card: Destin Daniel Cretton (2026)

 

7. Spider-Man: Brand New Day

Getting to direct a "Spider-Man" movie must be a real double-edged sword by this point. He's one of those superheroes that nearly everybody has strong feelings about. Thousands more kids grew up watching the cartoons and movies or playing the video games or with the toys than those that ever bothered to read a comic book. You're going to be judged and scrutinized by hardcore nerds and filthy casuals with spider symbol decals on their cars. At the same time, a film actually about Spider-Man – and not one of his villains or a blind lady he talked to a few times – is guaranteed to be a massive success. Also to consider is that the Marvel Cinematic Universe house style is so ingrained at this point that it's unlikely to make any filmmaker a household name. I'm sure Jon Watts and Marc Webb have done just fine for themselves. However, their stints with the web crawler did little to raise their profiles beyond earning the scorn of hyper-online nerds. These types of gigs are surely beneficial to the directors' bank accounts at the cost of any public artistic identity.

So you're Destin Daniel Cretton. You've directed some well regarded indies and two Oscar Bait dramas that didn't win Oscars. Marvel scoops you up to direct a project conceived during the period when every movie they were making, no matter how obscure the source character was, became a huge success... But the movie releases after the pandemic, when the air is fast running out of that balloon. I thought "Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings" was among the best of the studio's post-"Endgame" slate and it did okay at the box office. Nevertheless, a prospective sequel and spin-off series got lost in the corporate shuffle to re-right the ship and your leading man said some kind of weird shit online. You're going to direct the next "Avengers" movie but then you aren't, because that project's leading man got real-deal canceled and took the entire planned direction for the franchise with him. Your prestige mini-series about Japanese-American soldiers in World War II is slow to develop and another Marvel TV project – the shrinking number of people still watching those like it – is the only thing you've actually directed in the last four years. Your Disney corporate overlords offer you the next "Spider-Man," maybe to make up for the "Avengers" fiasco. Do you take the job? Of course, you do. "Spider-Man: Brand New Day" has opened to predictably enormous box office, so I'm betting Cretton is feeling fine about all this. But what of the film itself? Let us investigate further. 

Despite taking its subtitle from a controversial comic story line, "Spider-Man: Brand New Day" is not set in the aftermath of a deal with the devil and Aunt May is still dead. Instead, the new status quo established by "No Way Home's" ending has Peter Parker forgotten by all his friends and loved ones. He has focused his life entirely on being Spider-Man. While this has made the web head New York City's most beloved hero, it's left Peter feeling isolated. His spider powers begin to develop in strange ways, his body producing organic webbing and Peter going into rage fueled black-outs where he acts dangerously. Soon, a new threat emerges: A psychic presence that can inhabit any body and seems determined to break into the Department of Damage Control. This new villain directly targets MJ, who Peter still loves but who no longer remembers him. The Spider-Man is going to have to learn to control his new powers, consider the cost of reconnecting with those who have forgotten him, and unravel the true motive behind this enemy all at once.

Filmmakers keep saying they have a desire to make a "street level" Spider-Man movie. While the character is certainly involved in universe reshuffling shenanigans regularly, most of his villains are of more humble ambitions than world dominance. Of course, every superhero movie has to be an event now, meaning the last several appearance of the character have been crossovers or globe-trotting adventures. At various points in development, it was promised that "Brand New Day" would finally refocus on the neighborhood part of Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. And for about a half-hour in the first half, it actually is that. There's a highly energetic montage devoted to showing encounters with a series of B-list villains, each one patterned directly after a classic cover. This is part of a longer first act, in which Spidey is directly in contact with the chief of police and simply stopping whatever petty super-crime comes along. Even after the mind swapping threat appears to centralize the story, this more casual energy remains for a while. This is, in fact, the pace and tone I've always wanted from a Spider-Man movie. Aside from the thrill of seeing, say, Tombstone on-screen, a Spidey who is always swinging in and out of other adventures works great for me. 

Of course, this is not meant to last for the entire runtime. Each of the MCU Spider-Man movies have been reluctant to let the character stand alone, bringing Iron Man, Nick Fury, or Doctor Strange into the plot. You would think that, of all of Marvel's characters, literally their most popular would be able to stand alone. Whether this is a result of the Byzantine contractual obligations between Disney and Sony that make these movies possible or simply a desire to establish this Spidey as thoroughly part of the cinematic universe, that trend continues in “Brand New Day.” The Punisher appears early in the run time and reoccurs throughout. Dr. Bruce Banner gets a conversation with Peter before his green, angry alter ego is spotlighted in a later action sequence. The mysterious antagonist of the film turns out to be exactly who everyone has speculated they would be, another very well-known  Marvel character re-debuting on-screen. The superhero supporting cast is so prominent throughout “Brand New Day” that it might as well have been called “Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends” or “Marvel Team-Up Featuring Spider-Man.”

The stated goal of wanting to be a lower stakes story simply about the web-slinger, his civilian buddies and love interest, obviously conflicts with high-profile characters showing up. It also creates another tiring feeling, of sitting through a big budget superhero flick that is merely an extended preview of another big budget superhero flick that Marvel Studios' brain trust is presumably hard at work on. Can we not just enjoy a story by itself? Must every tights-wearing motion picture be a part of a massive web of crossovers and brand synergy? Ya know, Peter Parker swinging over to a college campus and getting some advice from Dr. Banner is one thing. That would be a fairly standard event in the pages of the comics. However, here this scene merely proceeds a showdown with the Hulk later on. Devoting the primary villain role to another hotly anticipated character is a more questionable decision, tying Spider-Man to a character he's not that associated with and promising more adventures – more corporate product we must consume – down the line. 

Of all the guest stars, the Punisher is one that gives me the most pause. The blood thirsty vigilante first appeared as a Spider-Man adversary, of course. I've not read every appearance the two characters have made together. I'm sure, at one point or another, they interacted in a more cooperative manner. However, it still feels a little weird to have Spider-Man bantering with a character that has been acknowledged in-universe to be essentially a mass murderer. Jon Bernthal and Tom Holland have some decently amusing chemistry. The contrast between the younger hero's irrelevant style and Frank Castle's gruffness is worth a laugh or two but, by the end, we are meant to have genuinely warm feelings about their relationship. Which feels like a kind of weird thing to do with such a hard-boiled character. The script never quite acknowledges that the Friendly Neighborhood hero is being all buddy-buddy with a brutal killer throughout, one presumably wanted in connection with hundreds of homicides. Perhaps I am simply too much of a nerd to overlook the disconnect here and the average theater-goer will be less bothered by this. 

That “Brand New Day” is so preoccupied with slightly distracting crossovers is all the more frustrating as the premise has an intriguing question behind it. Peter Parker has always been pulled between the duty he feels as a superhero and his devotion to his friends and family. In this film, he's essentially chosen his crime fighting over his love life, in an attempt to keep them safe from the consequences of being connected to Spider-Man. All he can do is watch from afar as his best friend and the girl he loves both easily move on without him. This addresses an anxiety perhaps all of us have felt: How vital are we to other people's lives? If we disappeared suddenly, would the people so important to us find us equally important to them? The push-and-pull between wanting those we love to be happy and move on and what value this assigns to our own existence strikes me as an extremely Spider-Man-like emotion to explore. 

This idea takes center stage in the film's middle section, when the focus turns to Peter and MJ's relationship. Tom Holland and Zendaya continue to have strong chemistry, making these moments even more compelling. The script, at first, seems like its sticking to its guns and isn't going to magically undo past events. The blank slate is indeed blank. Obviously, this is the emotional backbone of the entire movie. Frustratingly, that relationship is entirely sidelined during the actual climax, which basically removes MJ from the story all together. Instead, the script repeatedly focuses in on a much less compelling idea, asking Peter if he truly has to do this all by himself. This moves towards a more generalized struggle against grief and finding the strength to go on after such a loss. This is a much less interesting idea, that never quite squares with the story actually being told here and ultimately feels like a somewhat desperate attempt to connect Peter's story with that of the antagonist's. 

Another common enough Spider-Man trope is Parker's personal anxieties effecting his ability to fight crime. “Brand New Days” draws a little from storylines in which his spider side mutates further, this time as a manifestation over his fears of losing MJ for good. The sequel stops short of having Peter sprout extra arms or turn into a full-on human/spider hybrid. Instead, he merely wakes up in his own webs at one point and develops fully black sclera. This is disappointing in its own right, as it feels like this subplot never quite pays off. Further more, the way this is ultimately resolved really (excuse the pun) bug me. Spider-Man continues to struggle with a fear that he's losing control of his own abilities up until a pivotal moment where... He closes his eyes, thinks about it real hard, and seizes control. At which point, he suddenly has access to a whole new plethora of superpowers that give him the boost needed in a big fight scene. This, to me, feels like video game logic infecting Hollywood screenwriting. Peter Parker levels up, simply by progressing through events, and can now control that which he previously couldn't. It does not feel earned, like a proper pay-off to the hero's development, and simply has him being able to do these now because it's that time in the story. 

Writing like this, distressingly becoming more common in big budget cinema of late, undersells the idea that the story's deeper themes mean anything. How can we accept “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” as an actual reflection on grappling with loss, trying to stone-wall our personal pain, or anxieties that our loved ones will be fine without us if it all wraps up with some shonen fighting anime style power-up? That points towards a problem all blockbuster cinema has, in our increasingly corporate age. The last third of “Brand New Day” sees all of New York City rallying around their local hero, cheering for him to make a brave recovery. There's a lengthy montage of the character's distinctive red and blue web pattern appearing in all sorts of public contexts. At this point, the question becomes if the sequel isn't much more than a self-indulgent act of corporate self-promotion. Look upon this hyper-valuble I.P., mere mortal movie goers, and think about how much you love Product. Is the film's script built upon the nostalgic, emotional connection the audience has to the “brand” itself and not to the story its telling? 

It's entirely possible I'm overthinking this. That I've gotten too old and cranky to simply embrace a special effects driven spectacle for its own sake. Maybe my brain is too full of worries about corporate waste as the world faces down threats much more important than costumed villains. Popular films are ostensibly a reflection of the world they are made in. There are hints throughout “Brand New Day” of how fucked-up shit has gotten in America. A scene where a character is abducted off the street by black-clad government agents, shoved into a van, and un-person-ed in broad daylight is a (possibly questionable) reflection of ICE raids and anti-fascist protesters getting dragged off. The story bends towards an easily guessed twist, that the agencies we have designated with protecting us might be more interested in consolidating their own power instead. Of course, these ideas are never seriously confronted. As in past Marvel movies, the abuses of power by the government are dismissed as the acts of bad apples. Spider-Man stops the bad guy and they get arrested by the cops. He doesn't dismantle the architecture of systematic repression and control. Such short-falls are to be expected but it represents the film's unwillingness to actually make us care, to invest its world with the proper amount of reality. 

Which points towards another problem I have with “Brand New Day,” one that necessitates I enter Extremely Obvious Spoilers territory to address: Why is Jean Grey the bad guy in a Spider-Man movie? From the minute up-and-coming redhead actress Sadie Sink was cast in an undisclosed part, fans assumed she was playing the future X-Woman. The script reveals this is the case about half-way through, as if the filmmakers are admitting how obvious this would-be twist must be. While Miss Grey has been possessed by genocidal cosmic consciousnesses from time to time, she's not typically a villain. A viewer with a basic measure of comic book knowledge can anticipate that she's acting this way for a good reason. While the origins we're familiar with have been rearranged, it still presents an underwhelming reveal about what is really going on.

Sink is fine in the role. Her big blue eyes can convey a degree of pain and emotion that suits what her character is going through. I'm sure she'll do fine in the surely forthcoming “X-Men” movie Disney is working on right now. Occasionally, “Brand New Day” utilizes its telepathic villain for some exciting sequence. People rag-dolling for a second as another mind takes over their bodies is inconsistently portrayed, usually being used as visual shorthand to show us who is under Grey's control at that moment. (Which does remove some of what is supposed to make her powers frightening, the idea that this threat can be anyone at any moment.) However, the sequence where Peter has to outrun the body-hopping possessive entity across the streets of New York is well-done. It's certainly better than the CGI infused finale, that turns this into a city-wide threat with lots of explosive special effects also depended on the idea of a character suddenly gaining control over new powers. Again, I'm just left wondering why these events are being focused on over elements of the story that obviously mean a lot more to these characters and everything that came before. 

The answer to that question is obvious: Because it's a Marvel movie. Getting a soratonin spike out of the audience simply by putting a familiar name or face on-screen is what these films have increasingly been designed to do. It's frustrating because, occasionally, “Brand New Day” does prove to be compelling blockbuster film making in its own right. A highlight of Cretton's “Shang-Chi” were action scenes that balanced acrobatic martial arts with the expected CGI spectacle more often. There's some of that in Cretton's “Spider-Man” as well. Not only when Peter is swinging through the city or tossing webbing around to capture opponents. During several clever spots, the point-of-view itself inverts and swings around the action, truly putting the viewer in the center of this thrill ride. When battling a group of acrobatic ninjas or a free-fall struggle with the Hulk, I was able to get caught up in this. If I'm being especially generous, “Brand New Day” is better than most comic book adaptations of putting the visual dynamism of the four-color medium in motion on the big screen. If I'm being more honest with myself, these moments represents brief surprises in-between a lot of far less memorable lighting, blocking, and cinematography. 

And that brings me back around to the question of Destin Daniel Cretton's authorial fingerprint. I'm sad to say that you don't see much of his personality coming through the film. Learning how to square away personal trauma and continue on with your life is certainly a present theme in the film, as it was in his “Wonder Man' series as well. However, like I said, that often takes a back seat to the bombast. Cretton's other pet themes, of daddy issues and cultural integration, simply aren't present at all. In fact, aside from some of those “Shang-Chi”-like action scenes, the only move here that strikes me as indicative of Cretton's previous work is a soundtrack that's heavy on indie rock needle drops, especially during plaintive montages. That gave me some “I Am Not a Hipster” flashbacks. Otherwise, it's hard not to conclude that the “Short Term 12” auteur has been thoroughly swallowed up by the blockbuster machine. 

It is, in other words, just another Marvel movie. “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” has its moments, a splash of color or inventive action work that got my heart pumping. The cast remains likable. That opening act really did give me hope that this would be a proper day-in-the-life-of-Spider-Man adventure and not merely a teaser for the next massive crossover to come. Sadly, that's not the case. The mere sight of my childhood comic book collection being brought to life on-screen is not enough to subsist a whole movie anymore. This lack of novelty, the sense that the product itself has become the point and not whatever thoughts or feelings it might invoke, is what has made superhero cinema a lot less interesting to me lately. “Brand New Day” isn't bad. It's fine. Will I ever feel the need to watch it again? That's a question I have a much less certain answer to. Good luck with that "Naruto" movie, Destin. [Grade: C+]

 

Director Report Card: Jake Schreier (2025)

3. Thunderbolts*

When it was announced that Jake Schreier would be the next director to join the Marvel Cinematic Universe family, most people responded with a simple "Who?" Which isn't to say that Schreier hadn't been busy since "Paper Towns" established him as an up-and-comer, just that he hadn't become especially well known. His Francis and the Lights connection got him music video gigs for superstars like Kanye, Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, Haim, and Kendrick Lamar. That's presumably how he ended up directing the concert film, "Chance the Rapper's Magnificent Coloring World." Out of my completist compulsions, and not because I'm familiar at all with Mr. the Rapper's music, I tried to locate that one for this Report Card but it doesn't seem to be available since its 2021 theatrical run. Probably most importantly to Disney/Marvel, who produce movies a lot like how they produce TV shows, Schreier had also proven himself as a reliable television director. He had multi-episode runs on critically acclaimed series like "Lodge 49," "Brand New Cherry Flavor," and "Beef," among spots on other edgy cable/streaming shows I've never heard of. Being long time friends with the guy who made Marvel some "Spider-Mans" probably didn't hurt either. Whatever convinced them, Schreier is the latest indie director plucked out of obscurity by the big budget superhero factory. 

The project he would be asked to steer was the Thunderbolts. In the comics, the Thunderbolts were originally a group of B-list supervillains who – after the Avengers disappeared into a crossover event singularity – began masquerading as heroes. They soon discover that doing good feels good and quickly take their con legit. That probably would've made for a pretty fun movie, with the current Avenger-less state of the MCU and traditional team leader Baron Zemo already existing in-universe presenting an easy set-up. Despite the clever premise, the team has been subjected to a constantly shifting line-up and frequent changes in direction. Eventually, they would mutate into something like Marvel's answer to DC's Suicide Squad, a group of supervillains seeking redemption alongside other ragtag misfits. That's the direction the movie seemed to take, drawing its roster mostly from the forgettable "Black Widow" movie, alongside Bucky, the antagonist from "Ant-Man and the Wasp," and a guy who debuted in one of the streaming series. 

It was, in other words, not the most promising set-up for a blockbuster. "Thunderbolts" felt a lot like superhero table scraps to me, a remnant of Marvel's assumption that the general public was way more invested in spin-offs about minor supporting characters than they truly were. Unsurprisingly, the cinematic "Thunderbolts*" – the title hassled with an asterisk for easily foreseen reasons – was subjected to extensive reshoots and repeated delays. This did little to raise my expectations for the latest entry into a once-ubiquitous pop culture force that seems to be floundering in recent years. Nor did it change the perception that Jake Schreier was another young, pliable, powerless director chosen by the Marvel Machine because he could be pushed around by the producers who actually make these movies. Well, "Thunderbolts*" is out now. People seem to actually like it, so either I was wrong or the studio managed to build up enough buzz to slightly re-inflate the superhero bubble.

Former Black Widow Yelena Belova works as an assassin for openly corrupt CIA director, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. Yelena, depressed since the death of her sister and alienated from superhero father figure Alexei/Red Guardian, seeks a change in her life. She accepts one last job from Val, repelling into a underground lab called the Vault. There, she runs into disgraced would-be Captain America John Walker and matter-shifting supervillainess Ghost. They quickly deduce that they have all been sent to kill each other and then be incinerated. See, Val is facing impeachment from her dealings with shifty bioweapons corp the O.X.E. Group and she hopes to clean up all loose ends. That includes Bob, a mysterious and seemingly mundane guy Yelena discovers in the Vault. Bob, however, is the lone survivor of O.X.E. Group's program to engineer their own superhero and soon reveals threateningly vast powers. Yelena, Walker, Ghost and the summoned Alexei get scooped up by Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier turned senator seeking to put Val behind bars. The makeshift team realizes how dangerous Valentina's plans for Bob – now positioned as a mega-powerful "hero" called the Sentry – are and set out to stop them before disaster occurs. 

Shortly after completing the first “Guardians of the Galaxy,” James Gunn mentioned the Thunderbolts as another Marvel title he might be interested in. Supposedly, he scratched that itch after making “The Suicide Squad.” This information will do nothing to dissuade those who claim all of Gunn's superhero movies are the same. Despite the fact that he's running the Distinguished Competition now, Gunn's fingerprints are all over “Thunderbolts*.” This is another story of a group of misfits, thrown together by fate. Most of them dislike each other at first but soon learn to see their good sides. They're up against a threat way more powerful than them but prove uniquely suited to the challenge. By the end, you can already sees the threads of a make-shift family forming. I don't mind Marvel trying to recreate “Guardians of the Galaxy's” formula but it is a little disappointing to see these very different characters fit inside that same mold. For example, it would've been cool if “Thunderbolts*” had touched upon the Sentry's main gimmick in the comics. That he appears as if he's always been there, a new character that everyone remembers being a great hero for years. One imagines scenes from past Marvel movies with the Sentry hastily added into them, for example. 

Despite the obvious debt “Thunderbolts*” owes to to the “Guardians of the Galaxy” movies, this superhero project eventually finds its own approach. The Guardians were anti-heroes and outcast. This gang is much more dysfunctional. Yelena is deeply depressed and nursing a drinking problem. Alexei lives in a crappy apartment and has a day job driving a crappy cab. Walker doom-scrolls articles about his own failures, his self-pity causing his wife to leave him and take their kid. Bob is the biggest fuck-up yet, thoroughly traumatized by a shitty childhood with drug abuse and constant instability in his past. Bucky Barnes is, by far, the most stable of the group... And he's depicted as living alone, socially awkward, bad at his day job, and forced to do mundane chores like put his robot arm in the dish washer. This approach leans into what was one of my concerns about the film, that its cast of characters were underwhelming cast-offs. To paraphrase an earlier film about an idiosyncratic team of crimefighters: They are not your classic superheroes, not the favorites, the ones nobody bets on. They're the other guys. 

The ensemble being connected by their mutual statuses as depressed, former or not-so-former substance abusers, with no personal lives does something else unexpected. It makes “Thunderbolts*” a snap-shot of the national mood. Alexei and Walker cling to past successes, in order to protect their fragile egos from the inadequacies they are all too aware of. This behavior alienates those they love, despite a desperation to connect with them. Bob doesn't even have a family to be alienated from, left mentally crippled from a lifetime of mistakes. A past full of pain have left them all unable to function as adults. Yelena's squalor, boozing, and constantly messy appearance brings internet lingo like “girl-rotting” to mind. In other words: These guys are typical millennials. They are well into adulthood without having acquired any of the status signifiers their parents had at this age. Demeaning jobs they resent are all that keep them going. Here in 2025, a lot of us feel like man-children and femcels, or at least have in the past. It's unusual to see this feeling reflected in a big budget superhero movie.

That unresolved trauma, and their stubborn refusal to resolve it, deserves most of the blame for our motley crew of heroes being like this. However, it's also not totally their faults. They were born into a world they had no control over. It's the same world where they are powerless against the whims of tyrannical politicians. Those in power openly break the law without fear of repercussions. If consequences – such as the lingering threat of impeachment – do appear, what's to stop these leaders from wiggling free of punishment simply by breaking more laws? If the Thunderbolts are heroes of our time, than slimy, condescending, possibly insane, strangely magnetic, and utterly petty Valentina Allegra de Fontaine is a stand-in for the political leaders of our time. It's difficult not to be an emotionally arrested fuck-up when our president is a conniving crook invested only in his own money and power.  

While Val is the manipulator behind these events, she's ultimately less dangerous than the threat she unleashes. Rather than the spectre of fascism or disease, the big bad in “Thunderbolts*” Is The Void: In the comics, that's the alternate personality of the Sentry, the antithesis of an ultimate hero. Here, the Void becomes a symbol of the depression dragging Bob – and all the protagonists – down. He's depicted as a suffocating blackness, that makes people disappear as they are sucked into its depth. Once within, they are surrounded by painful memories that they can't escape. They are repeatedly reminded of all the mistakes they can't forgive themselves for. It's a potent metaphor for clinical depression. And intrusive thoughts and OCD and anxiety and every other chemical imbalance in our brains that tells us we aren't good enough, that makes you feel like non-existence is preferable to living.

If it feels like the film is getting into pop-psychology territory here, “Thunderbolts*” does not resist such tendencies. A scene where Yelena has an intense conversation/breakdown with her dad utilizes some therapy-speech clichés. Bob can't defeat his Void by physically confronting it. That only leads to self-destruction. Instead, the crushing loneliness can only be held at bay with friends, family, a support net of people who love and support and teach you how to love and support yourself. The metaphor gets a little overly literal by the climax. If “Thunderbolts*” is overly reliant on our modern pandemic of being too analyzed and no less neurotic, this is at least also reflective of the generational condition it seeks to capture.

“Thunderbolts*” isn't only seeking to stretch millennial self-doubt across larger-than-life superhero metaphors. It also represents the Marvel Cinematic Universe in a very self-aware mood. Valentina's end game is to engineer a perfect hero, the ultimate one-man Avenger team that is personally at her beck-and-call. She thinks Bob's history of mental illness will make him easier to control, underestimating the power of the Void. But there's a more obvious truth here: You can't build a hero in a laboratory. The last five years has seen Disney/Marvel take an especially mercenary approach to expanding its cinematic universe, attempting to create a new wave of Avengers that could take the place of the first generation of charismatic, beloved characters and keep those billions rolling in. It hasn't exactly worked out and it remains to be seen how many of the future storylines the studio has set-up will now be paid off on. The Sentry appearing as a made-by-committee do-gooder that proves to be a monstrous failure feels like a commentary on this tactic. 

While I'm sure “Thunderbolts*” was as designed in a boardroom as much as any of Marvel Studios' other capeshit, it does try and resist the overly work-shopped and dissected feeling the last few MCU flicks have had. In fact, the plot here is refreshingly ramshackle in a lot of ways. Nearly the entire first half of the movie is devoted to Yelena and her new team mates simply trying to escape the Vault. The characters truly do feel thrown together by coincidence, including a seventh cast member that is quickly disposed of. (If another example of the MCU tossing away another iconic comic character.) From here on out, the plot almost plays out in real time, feeling like the cast is flying by the seat of their pants as they desperately race against time. This allows the film to zero in on its ensemble and to create a propulsive story that is always moving forward. 

When writing about “Paper Towns,” I asked if any of the style Jake Schreier showed in “Robot & Frank” was evident in a more studio-driven project. That question is far more pertinent to a big budget action movie from a company somewhat notorious for bland looking motion pictures. I don't think Schreier and cinematographer Andrew Droz Palermo go especially far distinguishing the film visually from previous superhero shenanigans. The action sequence suggest that Schreier might have been a little out of his depth here. Some of the scuffles and gun-fights are either a little too chaotic or too stationary, such as a moment where the Sentry deflects the entire team in one held shot. Some scenes do look solid, such as an explosion filled car chase, but I'd probably describe “Thunderbolts*” as a passable action flick, at best. 

However, I do think Jake Schreier potential has decent chops as a horror movie director. The most striking visual of the film is how the Void is depicted, as a totally detail-free shadow save for a pair of pin-point lights at the eyes. That's a creepy, memorable image. It is accompanied by the sight of people vanishing into the spreading cloud of depression in a puff of smoke that burns their shadows into the ground. By the time the heroes have plunged into the Void themselves, they are reliving their worst memories. They grow increasingly surreal, such as when Yelena finds herself unable to escape her most shameful recollection. To the point that the scenery comes to life and holds her there. These moments are well-done and mildly creepy too, suggesting that Schreier was probably more at home crafting these scenes than the explosions and shoot-outs. 

Say what you will about Marvel Studios but they are usually good at casting their films. “Thunderbolts*” has a lovable cast, built-up over the course of the previous installments, and lets them mostly bounce off each other in amusing ways. Florence Pugh manages to bring a pathos and patheticness to Yelena, while never having us doubt her abilities as a competent warrior. David Harbour's goofball father act is expanded on from “Black Widow,” being a little more personable and a little less silly while still utilizing the actor's avuncular charm. Sebastian Stan becomes a likeably dead-pan straight man to the antics around him, approaching most of what happens with resigned shock and a lack of surprise. Wyatt Russell walks a fine line with John Walker, the U.S. Agent being both an asshole and a broken person that slowly wins the audience over. Lewis Pullman – that's Bill's son, by the way – proves surprisingly likable and relatable as Bob, his flaws all too human. The only member of the Thunderbolts that feels shortened is Hannah john-Kamen as Ghost. She's mostly merely there, getting a handful of moments to herself without being allowed too many chances to shine on her own. 

It is also to “Thunderbolts*'” benefit that the film feels surprisingly stand-alone. Despite being the follow-up to at least seven previous movies and two streaming mini-series, the film never feels burdened by continuity and past events too much. As long as you've seen “Black Widow” and know who Bucky is, you'll probably be able to follow this one. The weight of being the latest cog in a massive corporate franchise does eventually drag the film down. Right before the credits start rolling, the film ends abruptly and leaves its main antagonist off the hook, to make way for further adventures. Still, compared to the bland universe-weaving of “The Marvels” and the hopelessly reshuffled “Captain America: Brave New World,” “Thunderbolts*” is both a lot of fun and heartfelt. Schreier is already being courted for more Marvel movies, based on the strengths of this one. I'd hate to see him totally consumed by these kind of theatrics but “Thunderbolts*” is a good time at the movies nevertheless. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Julius Onah (2025)

4. Captain America: Brave New World

For years, we heard cultural critics and film reviewers talking about what they called "superhero fatigue." This idea that the public was getting sick of super powered blockbusters kept getting thrown around and Marvel and DC movies kept making billions of dollars. However, it is now evident that the superhero bubble has definitely burst. Several high profile sequels, sequels to movies that made seven figures at the box office, have flopped. Being based on a comic book is clearly no longer a guarantee that a film will be a financial success. Marvel and their Disney overlords are all too aware of this shift. Compounded by the COVID-19 pandemic and an actor's guild strike, their upcoming slate of superhero movies have been delayed, reshuffled, and endlessly reshot. The first victim of this damage control maneuver has been "Captain America: Brave New World." Filmed in 2023 and originally intended for a 2024 release, the sequel has been subjected to controversy, rewrites, studio interference, and a ballooning budget from the beginning. After all that, the sequel finally opened last month to merely decent box office and worst reviews. "How did this happen?" is clearly a question we won't have an answer to for quite a while but the film, in its desperately compromised "final" form, remains. 

Sam Wilson, the Avenger formally know as the Falcon, has inherited the shield and title of Captain America. General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, best known for his rabid pursuit of the Hulk, has been elected president. He hopes to establish a good working relationship with the new Captain America. Sam is invited to the White House and brings Isaiah Bradley, the black man who was imprisoned and subjected to government testing during the fifties in hopes of recreating the Super Soldier Formula. During a presentation about the newly discovered element adamantium, President Ross hoping to create a peaceful trade of the metal among the world's superpowers, something goes horribly wrong. Bradley and several others are compelled to attempt to kill the president. Hoping to clear his friend's name, Sam Wilson sets out to uncover the conspiracy behind these events. Soon, he has uncovered a master plan from a vengeful villain, orchestrating events that could unleash a world war and turn President Ross into a monster. 

There are many answers to the question of how the hyper-successful Marvel train derailed. I'm sure many think-pieces have already been written on the subject and many more will follow. However, I think the main factor leading to the public's growing indifference to the Marvel Cinematic Universe is similar to how the comic book industry itself began catering to an increasingly smaller audience over the last three decades. We call it "Continuity Lockout," the point at which a nerdy property becomes so weighed down by prior events and currently on-going storylines that it becomes nearly impossible for casual enjoyers to easily jump in. Unless you know a lot about superhero comics and the histories of many major characters and teams, it's hard to get into the latest books. This arose out of Marvel and DC desperately appealing to an entitled audience of unhinged nerds that can never be pleased and following trends after the collapse of an unsustainable speculators' market, alienating what is ostensibly the medium's primary audience of children. 

The Marvel Cinematic Universe, meanwhile, has become a massive network of interconnecting feature films, TV shows, streaming series, and short films in the sixteen years since Robert Downey Jr. first put on the Iron Man suit. "Captain America: Brave New World" is something like the forty-sixth installment of the MCU. It is a sequel to three previous "Captain America" movies and "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" Disney+ mini-series. You have to have seen that show to understand the plot of this movie. It is also a de-facto sequel to "The Incredible Hulk," the second MCU film that nobody seemed to like that much at the time and has been largely forgotten. It also draws heavily from all the previous "Avengers" movies and "Eternals," one of the least popular Marvel movies.

That is a massive time investment, with a lot of moving parts, for the average filmgoer to keep up on. Is it any wonder that a lot of them opted out after "Avengers: Endgame's" rather satisfying conclusion? How many people watched "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier?" How many saw the trailer for "Brave New World" and were confused as to why Sam Wilson was Captain America now? The money people that control Hollywood now believe in the dogma of capitalism, that you must always expand and expand, that you must always make more money next quarter than you did the last one. Applying that idea to storytelling leaves an audience increasingly overwhelmed by a deluge of new stuff, much of which is starting to look the same. This is so true that someone like me – who is still ostensibly invested in the MCU, who does watch all the movies and most of the streaming series, who knows entirely too much about comics – was still left a little adrift by "Brave New Wave." A major character in the film is Joaquin Torres, the new Falcon, Sam's loyal sidekick, and a tech expert. Joaquin was apparently introduced in "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" but I had entirely forgotten that. I was confused as to why the film was treating seemingly a new character like a member of the established cast. In other words, the Disney masterminds have not done a good job of ensuring that their new characters are very memorable. 

Marvel Studios being run like a sausage factory is not the only reason "Brave New World" turned out the way it did. To learn the film was subjected to numerous extensive reshoots and rewrites could not be more apparent. There is a disconnect between many scenes and subplots. Sam and Joaquin investigate a black site in West Virginia, while the head of Ross' security team is witnessed to brain-washed guards killing minor supporting characters the viewer has already forgotten about. These two events never feel as linked as they should be. Sam has a buddy in the Marines – a brief glance at the Wikis reveals that this is a totally unrecognizable version of perpetual Marvel D-lister Demolition Man – who seems weirdly important to the story despite being relatively minor. In fact, a lot of the movie hinges on characters that feel otherwise unimportant and generic, such as the Japanese prime minister or some nameless jet fighter pilots. The way the heroes jump around locations, faced with undefined adversaries, as hastily assembled exposition is thrown in to explain why our guys are going to this place or after this thing next, suggests a script that was repeatedly remixed and reshuffled. It does not result in a cohesive feeling story. 

What of that story? Director of superhero movies – clearly embarrassed to be working on a corporate product based on disposable children's books, beholden to a stifling formula – often say their cape movies are patterned after more respectable genres. “The Batman” was a noir. “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” was a seventies conspiracy thriller. “Brave New World” wants to be a conspiracy thriller too. There's a problem though. The sequel has clearly been subjected to so many rewrites and re-editing, each one simplifying and dumbing down the story. What we have been left with is a conspiracy thriller whose conspiracy runs in a straight line, one guy being responsible for everything that happens. All of the subterfuge that goes down is the result of cartoonish mind control. The mastermind's scheme builds towards an act of ridiculous sci-fi revenge, that the entire advertising campaign for the film has been constructed around. The result is a “conspiracy thriller” that feels like it was written for school children. 

In this sense, “Captain America: Brave New World” is a movie about nothing. It exists simply to deliver sequences that will satisfy, whether that be a reference to something viewers might recognize or through some rudimentary action spectacle. At the same time, motion pictures of such a scale as this do not exist in a vacuum. All art is political, even corporate mandated and by-commission art such as this. From this perspective, “Brave New World” may very well be the most neo-liberal movie ever made. The superhero story acknowledges that the American government has made mistakes and done bad things, with the imprisonment and treatment of Isaiah Bradley being the most prominent example. However, all of this is totally swept under the rug, the script ultimately deciding that all the problems in the story are the result of only two guys. It's a cowardly declaration, a refusal to grapple with any of the fallout of the American empire. 

Which is also apparent in the film's unspoken support of Israel, in the present of Ruth Bat-Seraph. For the hardcore nerds, they'll know that character from the comics as Sabra, the Marvel Universe's de-facto Captain Israel whose first appearance has her discovering Palestinian children have souls. There's one line confirming that Seraph is a former Mossad agent and, if you squint, you can see her wearing blue and white briefly. Otherwise, she's an unrelated character, with her origins tied to “Black Widow.” Which makes me wonder, when Marvel realized now was an especially bad time to debut this character, they didn't simply cut her entirely during any of the endless reshoots. It's not as if the stiff, distractingly petite Shira Haas gives a star-making performance or anything. But, no, it was essentially important for some reason to acknowledge that the U.S. government supports the existence of Israel and everything it may or may not have done in this comic book superhero movie. 

In the last act, the film depicts the President becoming a hideous, rage monster. He destroys the White House and the Washington Monument, symbols of our American ideals, before brandishing the U.S. flag as a weapon. We never learn anything about President “Thunderbolt” Ross' ideologies but, considering his hot tempered saber-rattling pushes the world towards war, it's hard not to assume he's a half-assed Trump analogue of some sort. How do we defeat a supervillain, an unreasonable and brightly colored horror, elected to the highest office in the land?  “Captain America: Brave New World” presents the most middle-of-the-road solution possible. Why, you talk to him! You reach out to his heart. See, the evil president isn't so bad! He just needs a hug from his daughter and a good therapy session. What could represent the modern Democratic philosophy better than that, that everything will work itself out if we reach across the aisles and talk it out? How's that working out for us? Despite the subtitle suggesting a world that is both new and brave, the finale actually features a line about how America needs a “return to normalcy.” Because nothing about how the situation was before had anything to do with us being in this mess in the first place. Perhaps this marks the sequel as one of the few pieces of cinematic art to emerge from the brief Biden interlude between the Trump Regime.

In the long lead-up to “Brave New World's” release, Julius Onah made some mention about how Sam Wilson would not be conflicted to be Captain America. However, clearly that element of the script changed during one of the many tinkerings. This movie shows a Captain America eager to prove himself, still insecure about whether this is a role he can fill. In the context of Onah's other works, this reads as a continuation on his frequent theme of being an immigrant. Sam Wilson is an American, has been his whole life, and has plenty of experience being a superhero at this point. Why does he still feel like an imposter? In a scene where he meets Isaiah in prison, one of the more tensely directed sequences in the film, the two have a conversation that highlights of difficult of being a proud American and a black man, abused by this country so many times. The question of “Will this country ever allow a black man to be Captain America?” floats over the film. I suppose the hopeful ending provides an answer but it never feels like the topic is truly addressed. 

What's most frustrating about “Brave New World” being such a chopped up mess is that, at the center of it, is a hero that easily could've carried his own movie. Anthony Mackie undeniably has the verve and charisma to be a movie star. The handful of brief moments throughout the sequel, where he's not weighed down by the contrived script or heaps of CGI, you can see it. During the fight scenes, such as a rumble in a church at the beginning or a scuffle in a junk yard with a supporting supervillain, you realize that this guy actually does have the stuff to play this role. The film repeatedly has Mackie doing all sorts of CGI-assisted, silly looking leaps and flips throughout, ignoring that he's at his most compelling when he's on his feet and scuffling with the bad guys, fist-to-fist. 

Another interesting element about Mackie's performance is that he doesn't have a female co-star to bounce off of. He only shares a few scenes with Shira Haas and the two characters are never alone. He doesn't have a woman you could generally describe as a love interest, a common sight in these movies. Which isn't to say that he doesn't have a love interest at all. Sam Wilson shares a lot of scenes with Joaquin Torres. They are always bantering. One moment, where Sam grabs his superhero suit while Torres does hacker stuff at the computer, gives the impression of them living together. When Torres is injured, late in the film, Sam takes it extremely hard. Their eventual reunion seems incomplete without a kiss. Throughout, Joaquin seems utterly devoted to Sam in turn. Either Marvel is intentionally trying to tease the yaoi fan girls or Mackie was intentionally playing Sam as gay. I'm inclined to believe the latter, as Mackie has homoerotic tension with nearly every male character in the film. During sweaty gym training sessions with Isaiah, tense stare-offs with President Ross, being chummy with a random army guy, or running from Sidewinder while wearing tiny shorts, there's this undeniable tension in every scene. Thus, I must conclude: Everybody, welcome our first gay Captain America. 

Ultimately though, with a film so clearly plagued by rewrites and reshoots, it was obviously difficult for most of the cast to get a read on the material. Harrison Ford seems directionless as Ross, grumpy but prone to unbelievably maudlin moods. Danny Ramirez is kind of annoying as Joaquin, a Scrappy-Doo-like character that is both plucky comic relief and a tech genius and an overly enthusiastic young superhero. Haas gives a totally blank performance, which is true of most of the cast. The only actors who emerge with any personality at all are those playing the hammiest villains. Giancarlo Esposito plays Sidewinder with the verve of a mustache-twirling bad guy, energizing his few scenes. Tom Nelson Blake as the Leader gets to croak a lot of terrible dialogue but somehow maintains not only his dignity but adds an amusingly unhinged quality to the part. Though the make-up choices made to bring this iconic villain – the Hulk's archenemy in the comics – to life isn't going to win over many hardcore fans. 

Simply put, it is impossible to separate "Brave New World" from the circumstances of its production. Knowing the movie was in a constant state of flux, at the mercy of last minute reshoots always more last minute than the previous ones, informs every minute of its runtime. You can see this most obviously in what are some surprisingly chintzy looking special effects. Sometimes, Sam and Joaquin look fine flying through the air and flexing in their super suits. Other times, they look like graphics from a subpar video game. We know Marvel is fond of shooting on green screens, when actors seem to be floating on-screen without any connection to their location, you notice. The Red Hulk looks pretty good but Sam's armor seems plastic-y in the same scenes. We can only assume that such an expensive film having such underwhelming effects is the result of Disney cracking the whips on underpaid and overworked digital animators, forcing them to crank out a finished product within a few weeks, to hold onto a set-in-stone release date. 

Being the result of such a chop-slapped production, I suppose it should be impressive that any of Julius Onah's trademarks as a filmmaker are evident in the final cut. There's a rotating tracking shot that reminded me of a similar shot in "Luce." That the Leader infects people through cellphone signals feels like it could have been a sign of Onah's continued interest in how technology effects our daily lives. Lastly, the titles and end credits carry his tendency for using boxed-off sections of the screen as a visual technique. I imagine, in the aftermath of such a chaotic production, the director will receive most of the blame. I don't think "Captain America: Brave New World" being a mess is Onah's fault though. The sequel ending up this way is a direct result of Disney trying to turn Marvel into an unending distraction for a not-picky-enough public, for failing to correctly gauge the limits of their own popular franchises, the film caught in the crossfire of trying to right a sinking ship.  [Grade: C-]

RECENT WATCHES: The Marvels (2023)

As 2023 comes to a close, it is apparent that the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and superhero movies in general, are no longer resonating with the general public the way they used to. Rampant speculation has already run wild about why this might be. Was it simply overexposure, when obscure characters like Black Adam and Shang-Chi were becoming the focus of multi-million dollar tent pole releases? Did "Avengers: Endgame, and subsequently the pandemic, put such a sense of finality on the phenomenon that it led to many people checking out? Maybe folks are just craving something new. All of these things are factors but I think the MCU's recent downturn at the box office can be most contributed to the same element that makes regular superhero comics hard to get into: Continuity lock-out. Take, for example, "The Marvels." This two hundred million dollar film is a sequel to the billion-dollar grossing "Captain Marvel," yes. It's also a follow-up to two separate streaming series. Not to mention you should probably watch the "Avengers" movies and "Secret Wars" for added context. That's a lot to ask of a general audience, especially when they have so many streaming services to choose from, each with inflating subscription rates amid an economically harsh time. While I'm sure "The Marvels'" box office failure, and what it means for our modern pop culture landscape, will be written about for years to come, this overlooks an important question: What about the movie itself? Was it any good? 

Following the events of "Endgame," Carol Danvers — the hyper-powerful superheroine Captain Marvel — has been flying around the galaxy, trying to untangle the Skrull/Kree War and just making a bigger mess of it. Kree leader Dar-Benn uncovers one half of a legendary relic called the Quantum Bands. She uses this to steal natural resources from other worlds and send them to the devastated Kree home world. The resulting cosmic anomaly entangled Carol's light powers with two other superheroines: Monica Rambeau, S.W.O.R.D. agent who gained light manipulating powers during the events of "WandaVision," and Kamala Khan, the New Jersey based Ms. Marvel, who wears the second Quantum Band. Now, the three women trade places whenever they use their powers. This tosses them together on an adventure to stop Dar-Been. 

It's gotten to the point where the people who dislike Marvel movies tend to do so on principle. And, honestly, I can sympathize with that. It's hard to be a lover of cinema and not see the effect Disney's cultural juggernaut has had on the industry as a net-negative. Yet, I'm still a life-long comic book nerd. I still derive enjoyment from seeing these characters and spending some time in this universe. From this perspective, "The Marvels" is frequently entertaining. The movie lives and dies on whether its central trio of actresses are interacting on-screen. Brie Larson continues to show an easy-going charm as Carol, balancing the weight the character feels with a quick wit. Iman Vellani's clear enthusiasm for the character of Kamala, and Marvel comics in general, is impossible not to get caught up in. The scenes where the young girl is giddy with fan-girl joy at getting to interact with her heroes are adorable. Teyonah Parris is a capable straight woman, bouncing off her partner in frequently charming ways. The scenes devoted to the three Marvels mastering their powers together, playing with a jump rope, or just bantering the obvious high points of the film. 

This has always been the best thing about the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Watching likable actors play charming characters and seeing them play off each other. Some of the better films in the franchise have also had luck indulging in quirkier science fiction elements. This is also true of "The Marvels." The scene where the film most comes alive, when you can most feel director Nia DeCosta's touch, is when the heroes visit a world where everyone communicates through song and dance. I'm always a fan of inserting musical numbers into non-musical movies and this scene, no doubt, enlivens the middle act of the film. The last third also features a wonderfully goofy scenario, amplifying the surprise of Goose the Cat being a ravenous alien known as a "Flerkin" from the first movie to delightfully ridiculous heights. The cherry on that particular sundae is a perfectly on-the-nose choice of soundtrack. 

As much fun as "The Marvels" can be, it can't help but come off as mid-tier Marvel sometimes. The sequel reminds me a lot of "Thor: The Dark World" — a movie I don't dislike nearly as much as most people do — in that it's parts are greater than its whole. "The Marvels" is a sad return to the days of forgettable, perfunctory villains. Dar-Benn is a thinly defined zealot willing to do anything to return her planet to its former glory. While some attempt is made to give her depth, namely that her jihad against Captain Marvel isn't unjustified, it doesn't stick. Zawe Ashton plays her as an undefined, generic evil-doer whose name I couldn't even remember after leaving the theater. Similarly, the likable heroes are flung into a plot that rarely justifies its own existence. The script jumps around the universe, throwing some convoluted cosmic lore and super powered technobabble at us, all in pursuit of a MacGuffin that can do whatever the plot requires of it. It's hard to care too much about any of the stakes here. 

"The Marvels'" more traditionally superheroic moments vary in quality as well. Some of the action sequences are a lot of fun, as they play off the characters' different abilities and the centric gimmick of trading places. A tumble on a S.W.O.R.D. ship, which involves Kamala doing some sweet drop kicks, is a notable example. Other times, "The Marvels" feels like so much CGI slop. Knowing what we know now about the special effects sweatshops Disney rubs for these movies, it's gotten increasingly harder to get any enjoyment out of watching Captain Marvel fly around and explode space ships or heroes blasting though portals. Not just because they look mediocre but because we know the unreasonable grinds that resulted in these weightless, oddly cropped combat sequences. 

It seems to me there's been a conscious effort — directed by whom, I can't say though I have my guesses — to blame "The Marvels'" box office performance on director Nia DeCosta. This idea that she abandoned the movie in post-production has been floated. Lots of directors work on one film while another is in post, so I think that's bogus. Honestly, DeCosta's attitude towards the project, that it belongs more to the producers than her, is almost refreshing. Ultimately, "The Marvels" is a mixed bag. A likable cast does what they can to elevate a routine, messy script and sometimes they succeed. These kind of things happen when a studio churns 'em out the way Marvel does. Does the public deserve better? Well, probably. But does "The Marvels" deserve to be called the movie that finally killed the Marvel Cinematic Universe? I wouldn't agree with that either. The truth is, a film like this probably would've been a huge hit just a few years ago. Over-saturation, driven by corporate greed, is the real culprit here, not a sequel that has its fair share of negative and positive qualities. [6/10]

Director Report Card: James Gunn (2023)

6. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

James Gunn's career continues to defy expectations. The guy who got his start making movies at Troma, who then directed two box office failures full of gore and antisocial behavior, directing two mega-budget Marvel superhero movies about an obscure, weird team of characters was unlikely. That he got fired by Disney over a troll campaign was even crazier, immediately leading to him getting picked up by Marvel's biggest rival in the superhero movie business. Gunn was then handed the keys to the entire DC Universe, going full-steam ahead with a slate-wide reboot. You'd expect that to be the end of his relationship with Disney. Yet even the otherwise mercenary Mouse House must've recognized that Gunn's sensibilities were an important part of the success of the "Guardians of the Galaxy" series. They hired him back long enough to finish the story he started. And while superhero movies in general haven't been doing great this year, "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3" has still been acknowledged as the highlight of 2023's capeshit line-up.

Following the events of "Endgame," and having his beloved Gamora killed and replaced by a variant from a different timeline, Peter Quill is depressed. The leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy has been drinking while his teammates turn Knowhere into a proper city state. That's when a super powerful jerk named Adam Warlock flies out of the sky and body slams Rocket. Warlock is there under the orders of the High Evolutionary, a cosmic mad scientist obsessed with building perfect beings and worlds. The Evolutionary created Rocket and he wants his brilliant brain back to fine-tune his latest planet. He also built a copy protection into Rocket's body, preventing the Guardians from healing him. Thus, the team goes on another intergalactic quest to confront the High Evolutionary and save their friend. Along the way, they get back in touch with the Gamora that isn't theirs. 

What makes James Gunn an auteur, in a superhero movie landscape that runs on for-hire directors, is his need to revisit themes again and again in his movies. The "Guardians" films, "The Suicide Squad," "Peacemaker," and even parts of "Super" is the idea of misfits, people who have done awful things and believe themselves unworthy of forgiveness, coming together with other misfits to form improvised family. In its third volume, the "Guardians" story has fully embraced this element. Here, the Guardians are driven by their mutual love for Rocket and a desire to save him. All throughout, the characters call each other friends and family. They talk about love repeatedly. They bicker constantly but always come back together. The sequel's most touching moments are some of its smallest. Such as the ever-blunt Mantis erasing Drax's memory after admitting she thinks he's dumb. The always stoic Nebula breaking into tears upon learning Rocket is okay. Groot embracing his friends by extending his tendrils all the way around him. These moments are only meaningful because they re-enforce the ideas built upon in the previous movies. "Vol. 3" has earned the right to be sappy, because Gunn and his team have taken their time to develop these guys, to let us understand where they are coming from and why they act like this. They put in the work, so a climatic sequence of everyone saying they love each other is exactly as powerful as it should be and not insincere sentiment. 

Throughout the previous appearances of the Guardians of the Galaxy, we've gotten a pretty good idea of where everyone came from... Except for Rocket. The trilogy capper delves into the back story of the team's cantankerous raccoon mechanic. And it's a story full of vivisection, agonizing torture, cruel experiments, and loosing the only friends you've known. The film smartly cuts back and forth between the present story, of the gang trying to save Rocket, and his own recollections of this early life. This structure smartly keeps us hooked to both narratives, eager to see how Rocket got to be this way and whether or not he has a future. It also keeps the incredibly depressing backstory from dragging down the pacing too much, as fun action scenes and comedic dialogue are spaced between the weightier flashbacks.

Earlier this year, some questioned whether including such a violent, traumatic backstory in a film that had Happy Meal tie-ins was wise. Yet the severity of Rocket's origins tells an important story about empathy. In order for every misfit to be accepted into the Guardians' fold, it means overcoming your initial judgement of someone and understanding where they came from. You see this play out in Adam Warlock's subplot, who learns to treat other living things with respect by bonding with a fuzzy, dog-like space critter. That it's an animal that changes Adam's heart is important, as "Guardians 3" is a movie ultimately about extending empathy to animals. This is why the creatures that suffer the High Evolutionary's cruelest, most casual tortures are animals. It's why Mantis reaches out a loving hand to a fearsome monster late in the plot. It's why the film's climax centers around rescuing a whole horde of animals. It's even why the jokiest of story threads is about Cosmo, the psychic Soviet space mutt, begging for forgiveness. I wouldn't be surprised if this blockbuster flick turned some people into vegetarians. 

If animal rights is the main thing on Gunn's mind with “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” it's clearly not the only thing. The intentions become apparent when he has the movie's villain refer to one of its heroes, the raccoon that motivates much of the plot, as his “intellectual property.” Gunn got fired from the franchise he made so successful and so singularly his own. In that brief interim, Disney threatened to bring in another filmmaker to film the script he had already written. High Evolutionary wants to cut out Rocket's brain and use it to make his other creations “better,” which also can't help but make you wonder if Gunn is commenting on how his style has largely been grafted to other Marvel properties, like “Thor” and “Ant-Man.” Considering how critical so many people are of Disney/Marvel's role in forging our modern age of “IPs” and “content,” this thread line throughout “Guardians 3” feels very much like Gunn is biting the hand that feeds him a bit.

But maybe that's giving the guy too much credit. The filmmaker clearly has, and continues to have, no problem working with recognizable brands. Yet Gunn's relationship with properties like Marvel and DC has always been more melancholic than many of his contemporaries. Once again, the director and his team finds something meaningful in the nostalgic, pop culture debris that litters his hero's life. Star-Lord, as always, decorates his living quarters with reminders of his youth, like ALF stickers. When the team arrives at Counter-Earth, it's modeled after America in the 1970s. Seeing a suburban neighborhood, outfitted with retro cars and fashion, populated with mildly grotesque humanoid animals causes Quill's reflection on his childhood – and our own cultural fascination with our recent past – to be seen in a new light. Maybe the past wasn't so idyllic. Maybe it was just as strange as the world is today.

While there's been lots of complaints about the generic cinematography and forgettable CGI effects, the “Guardians” movies have always been a cut above. This continues to be true in the third installment. Gunn, clearly a lover of practical creature effects, packs the movie full of as much physical costumes and sets, as well as weird make-up jobs, as possible. The half-human, half-animal residents of Counter Earth are brought to life through lovingly grotesque practical make-up effects. The vampire bat family or little goat girl the Guardians meet look more like realistic fusions of animals and people than cute, marketable stuffed toys. The true visual centerpiece of the movie is when the heroes infiltrate the High Evolutionary's corporate headquarters, a space station made of organic matter. A giant tumor-like structure floating through space or security guards wearing armor that resembles bubbly crab shells are the kind of highly imaginative visuals I don't always expect from our modern comic book movies. Gunn embraces the weird side of the Marvel universe to great effect here. 

The High Evolutionary proves to be a fascinating villain too. He presents the exterior of someone totally under control, determined to show only his most civilized side to the world. Yet that mask often cracks, such as when he comes crawling to Rocket's cage in the middle of the night, practically in tears from desperation. Or any time he displays his God-like sway over his creations, clearly relishing his power over them. Chukwudi Iwuji nicely balances these two sides. The obsession with becoming a God-like creator stems from the Evolutionary's belief that there is no god. And he intends to fill that role. He sees the universe as a chaotic, ungainly mess that has grown out of control. He intends to take it apart and put it back together into something he deems perfect, even if it means he has to destroy everything and start over again repeatedly. It's the kind of villainous motivation that is clearly at odds with the ethos of these films, which follow outsiders and misfits that clearly wouldn't fit into such an idealized worldview. 

The villain's desire to fill the void left by a non-existent god isn't a viewpoint necessarily reflected by the film around him. What role the divine plays in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has never exactly been defined, if the possible exception of "Eternals." "Guardians Vol. 3" doesn't definitively provide any answers... Yet it suggests there's a life beyond. While at the point of death, Rocket is reunited with his loved ones. He's told that his story isn't over yet. That there's more for him to do among the living. This is well-trotted narrative trope but, in a film so concerned with whether a higher power exists and what role they serve, it's an especially meaningful scene. The exact existence of God isn't answered but the script does decide that we mortals have a purpose, that there is more to life than our physical existence.

That "Guardians Vol. 3" looks towards the afterlife is fitting. This is a film all about endings, including that ultimate ending of death. This manifests in the literal sense, of Rocket confronting the trauma of the first family he ever had dying and finally learning to move pass that agony. It's answered in a more figurative sense, of Peter mourning the death of his and Gamora's love, of learning to move beyond that loss. Ultimately, as the film moves towards an ending that brings this particular trilogy to a conclusion, this message extends to us, the viewer. We have to move on from these characters too, the film bringing their journeys to a far different place than they began in. Even if, as everything does in this cinematic universe, the story must go on in some way. But it's clear that, at the very least, James Gunn has finished telling his story with these characters.

It's probably for the best that the "Guardians of the Galaxy" saga has come to an end, strictly from a practical perspective. These are ensemble movies and the ensemble has gotten bigger with every installment. Somehow, "Vol. 3" manages to stay focused on moving its story forward while still giving everyone something to do. Star-Lord gets a juicy arc of overcoming his grief over Gamora's loss, while still giving Chris Pratt a chance to show off the easy-going charm that made the character a fan favorite in the first place. Zoe Saldana essentially plays a different character, allowing Ganora to be far gruffer and more of a rogue than ever before. The script builds some wonderful interactions between Dave Bautista's Drax and Pom Klementoff's Mantis, the two's oddball comic energy enlivening quite a few smaller moments. Such as when they infiltrate OrgoCorp or the way Drax proves himself to be surprisingly useful in the last act. I guess the truth is we love these guys by now. The cast and crew has such a sturdy grasp on who they are and how they work within this group. Watching them play off each other and be themselves is still a delight, because they've been crafted with such care. It allows the movie to have moments of hugs emotion, enormous action set pieces, and little jokes about car doors or couches. 

It's a big galaxy. The film even manages to find time for cameos from Sylvester Stallone. One of the joys of this series is that each corner is filled with something weird or interesting, like a guy with a carrot for a head, a henchmen being a hideous pig monster, or Nathan Fillion as a grumpy security guard. Among the new additions, Rocket's extended family of hideously mutilated animal friends are the most touching. Lyla the Otter, Teefs the Walrus, and Floor the ugly bunny monster all prove to be so lovable and fully realizes in such a limited amount of screen time. If any new additions to the cast doesn't totally work, it's Will Poulter as Adam Warlock. Adam Warlock is a pivotal character on the cosmic side of Marvel Comics. Poulter's version, a superpowered man-child with a limited understanding of the world, doesn't resemble the 616 counterpart much. In a film with so many characters and so many moving parts, Warlock comes off as something of an afterthought. His character arc, of learning empathy through a cuddly dog-thing, isn't as well realized as the other cast members. Poulter is funny in the part. Yet this ultimately feels like a character included more because the last movie's post-credit scene promised him and less because he was necessary to the story. 

As much as Gunn is focused on telling his heartfelt story with these oddball stories amid a wide, cosmic canvas, these are still superhero movies. There are certain action movie expectations to fulfill. The same imagination that powers the movie's sci-fi universe is on display in its action scenes. Groot sprouting wings after Star-Lord takes a dive from the villain's command ship proceeds an impressive shoot-out. A fluid action sequence has the entire time ripping through a hallway of enemies, sometimes rather literally, while the Beastie Boys blare on the soundtrack. The unique powers of the Guardians are nicely utilized throughout, such as Craglin mastering Yondu's magic arrow or Mantis using her empathetic abilities to distract her opponents. There's lots of explosions and space debris but the film is determined to make each one count. 

At this point, the “Guardians of the Galaxy's” soundtracks are as important to the movies as any of the writing or directorial decisions. The "Awesome Mixtape Vol. 3" selection is more eclectic than previous collections, owing in-universe to Quill upgrading to a Zune. The songs are pulled from multiple decades of pop history, providing a wider soundscape for the film. The opening choice, of an acoustic version of "Creep," takes us right inside the melancholy and isolation Rocket feels every day. Later on, the raccoon sings along to The The's "This is the Day," providing a more hopeful sense of introspection. Overall, the mood here is a lot more contemplative, with the dreamy reflection of Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" being a typical example of the general feel the soundtrack provides. Spacehog's "In the Meantime" got the highly promoted trailer spot, which was a fitting choice as the song's astral quality suits the cosmic setting. Which isn't to say there aren't plenty of upbeat tracks. Several bursts of propulsive pop music energy is provided by classic songs by Heart and Rainbow. The best action beat in the movie is set to "No Sleep 'til Brooklyn," which couldn't be a better combination of visuals and music. Probably my favorite needle drop is a deep cut from Alice Cooper, a sweeping but mildly sinister track that pairs fantastically with the introduction of the darker side of Counter Earth. Overall, it seems Peter Quill has gotten pretty into alt rock and post-punk, as the Replacements, the Mowgli's, and X all put in appearance.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is clearly on the downslope in 2023, so it's hard to say what role with superhero movies will play in the near future of American blockbuster films. Yet, as we look back on this moment in pop culture history, it's clear that Gunn's "Guardians" movies will stand out from the rest of the pack. They've always been more personal, more heartfelt, and more singular than the rest of the caped lot. "Vol. 3" is as bold as the others, in some ways a more thematically ambitious and character driven experience than the other two while sacrificing none of the crowd pleasing theatrics we expect from movies of this statute. If this truly is the last time we'll see these characters, at least together like this, it's a good note to take them out on. [Grade: A]