After three failed attempts and enough internet jokes to power Latveria for a century, Marvel has somehow pulled off the impossible—they made a good Fantastic Four movie. And not just good—actually fantastic. Out of some cosmic miracle (yes, this is a tier-2 pun), they absolutely nail the direction here with flying colors.
Gone is the tired origin story. Thank god. Instead of wasting another two hours showing us how Reed Richards got stretchy powers (we get it—cosmic rays), we jump in about 3-4 years after the team’s formation. The Fantastic Four are already proud, celebrated heroes, and the film fully embraces the classic ’70s–’80s sci-fi aesthetic they were going for—and my god were they going for it. The production design is so aggressively retro it borders on parody—think “Pepsi commercials directed by Wes Anderson”—but it works because the movie commits.
The opening act plays like a lost episode of the world’s most expensive Saturday morning cartoon. It’s gloriously campy in a way modern superhero films are usually too embarrassed to be. Mole Man shows up looking like he escaped from The Incredibles DVD extras, and the townspeople? A yapped-up “idealized” version of superfans who behave so artificially cheerful you’d think Reed programmed them himself. Honestly, the whole “friendly city” bit is pushed so hard it’s almost believable—in a world where humans aren’t really human, that is.
This monologuing detour was brought to you by the desperate need for realism in background characters.
Reed and his band of do-gooders go on adventures that feel more like cheesy highlight reels than actual threats—but they’re wildly enjoyable. Sit back, soak in the cheese, and let yourself smile.
And then, everything shifts.
Julia Garner arrives as the Silver Surfer—or more accurately, Shalla-Bal, the female version of Norrin Radd from the comics—and she is absolutely spectacular. She brings this haunting, ethereal presence to the role that makes her both mesmerizing and deeply unsettling. When she delivers Galactus’ warning, it hits like a meteor strike. Also, shout-out to the scene where Joseph Quinn’s Johnny Storm visibly short-circuits the moment she appears—classic.
If you’re wondering why the Silver Surfer is a woman, don’t be. Shalla-Bal is a legit character from the comics, and this adaptation proves just how compelling she can be. It’s not a friendly visit from your neighborhood space girl—this is the herald of death, and she makes that very clear.
This is where the real movie begins.
The cast is uniformly excellent:
- Pedro Pascal is the perfect Reed Richards—equal parts arrogant genius and reluctant leader. (Also, Pedro, slow down. You’ve been in like three of the past five movies this week.)
- Vanessa Kirby absolutely kills it as Sue Storm. She finally gets to be the powerhouse she’s always deserved to be—channeling that “mom-mode” energy with quiet strength. Galactus wasn’t ready.
- Ebon Moss-Bachrach gives us the Ben Grimm we’ve been waiting for: not too miserable, not too cheery—just the right balance of heart and humor.
- Joseph Quinn nails Johnny Storm’s swagger and charm, but could’ve leaned a bit harder into his immaturity. He’s got the look and the confidence, but we wanted a bit more chaos.
The writing deserves major praise for finally allowing these characters to be smart. Watching Reed and Sue solve actual scientific problems—rather than just punching things harder—was more exciting than any CGI sky-beam fight. It’s a well-paced, well-balanced reboot that doesn’t assume you’ve watched ten other shows just to understand what’s going on (cough Marvel cough). Whether you’re a longtime fan or just tagging along because your partner dragged you, the story holds up.
Now, let’s talk post-credits. There are two. The first is a delicious tease involving Doctor Doom. The second? Complete filler. Skip it. Trust me.
Is it perfect? No. But the minor flaws—like toned-down Johnny antics or very few filler scenes—don’t stop this from being Marvel’s best film in years. Fantastic Four: First Steps proves that superhero movies can still be smart, campy, adventurous, and yes—fun—without being stupid. Funnily enough, an issue that I recently had with DC’s “Superman”.
Riveting, exciting, and full of that adventurous “risk” we’ve been missing. Marvel finally steps over the hurdle of repetitive storytelling and lets its characters be characters, not stand-up comedians in spandex.
Welcome back, Marvel. Now bring on Doom.