THUNDERBOLTS* Review

After years of teasing and slow-rolling their arrival across a sprawl of Disney+ spin-offs and post-credits scenes, the Thunderbolts have finally come crashing into the Marvel Cinematic Universe with a film that is, for better or worse, exactly what its lineup promised: messy, moody, occasionally brilliant, and brimming with fractured personalities trying desperately to find redemption or, in some cases, just a way to survive.

Thunderbolts is a Marvel team-up film like few others. Where Avengers was clean-cut unity and Guardians of the Galaxy was raucous dysfunction, Thunderbolts operates in the grey zone of moral compromise. Directed by Jake Shreier with kinetic flair and grim humour, the film unites a motley crew of anti-heroes: Florence Pugh’s battle-scarred Yelena Belova, Wyatt Russell’s brittle and tightly-wound John Walker, Hannah John-Kamen’s steadier, more resolved Ghost, and David Harbour’s blustering Red Guardian. All of them, of course, recruited by Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s scheming, power-drunk CIA director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

The film kicks off with Valentina facing potential impeachment over her shady black ops history, and in true Marvel fashion, she decides to bury the evidence—literally—by sending her "team" on a supposed mission designed to eliminate them. What follows is a high-stakes escape from death as the operatives realise the truth, try to reconcile with their individual traumas, and form a new alliance. It's classic misfit storytelling, elevated by Pugh’s ever-watchable turn as Yelena, who continues to carry the emotional weight of Natasha Romanoff's legacy with bitter wit and aching vulnerability.

Adding a major wildcard to the mix is Lewis Pullman's Bob, a mild-mannered amnesiac with seemingly invincible powers. Initially a mystery, Bob is later revealed to be a government experiment turned walking supernova: the Sentry. The character is Marvel's most powerful addition to the MCU in years, and the duality between the naive Bob and his terrifying alter ego, the Void, injects Thunderbolts with a much-needed existential horror.

Sebastian Stan's Bucky Barnes, now a U.S. Congressman and the moral compass of the story, arrives midway through to apprehend the team. But after learning of Valentina's experimentation and watching Bob become an unstoppable godlike threat, Bucky chooses to back the Thunderbolts instead. His arc here is lean but effective, showing the Winter Soldier finally embracing leadership in a way that feels earned.

From a production standpoint, Thunderbolts is stylishly shot, especially in the final act where the darkened, Sentry-infested New York City becomes a gothic battlefield. The CGI sometimes buckles under the weight of the Void's all-consuming powers, but the tone remains firmly apocalyptic. When Bob fully loses control and the Void spreads shadow across Manhattan, it's not just a superhero fight—it's a psychological descent into fear and loss of self.

The emotional crux lies in Yelena, who, in a sequence that echoes Inside Out more than Infinity War, ventures into Bob's fractured mindscape to reach what remains of the man underneath the madness. The decision to have the team join her in confronting Bob's past traumas, encouraging him to reject the Void, is surprisingly tender and heartfelt.

Of course, this is Marvel, and the tonal whiplash is never far off. The final moments see Valentina re-emerging from the ashes of her downfall, spinning public perception into gold. With one staged press conference, she rebrands the Thunderbolts as the New Avengers. It's a brilliant bit of dark satire, reminiscent of The Boys, and a sharp commentary on how narratives are more powerful than truth in the MCU.

The post-credits scene teases the future with a cosmic twist: a distress signal from space and a massive ship bearing the number "4". The Fantastic Four are coming, and whatever's next, it won't be quiet.

For all its chaos, Thunderbolts mostly works. It's a film about broken people trying to claw their way out of the shadows, often literally. The characters are layered, the performances are committed, and the set pieces have weight. Is it perfect? No. It juggles too many characters, and some arcs (notably Taskmaster’s) get sidelined. But in the crowded Marvel landscape, Thunderbolts feels like something sharper and stranger than the usual fare—a super-team story not about heroes, but about survivors.

This isn’t the MCU trying to recapture its glory days. It’s the MCU acknowledging that the world has changed, and the people trying to save it are more complicated than ever. And that, oddly enough, is worth cheering for.