Men in Black: International

I remember walking into the theater in 2019 thinking that Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson were basically bulletproof. They had just spent the last few years reinventing the Marvel Universe’s funniest corner in Thor: Ragnarok, and the idea of putting them in those iconic black suits felt like a slam dunk. It was the "safe bet" of the summer. But as I sat there, distractedly picking a piece of blue fuzz off my sweater for a good ten minutes during the second act, I realized that even the most charismatic stars can’t outrun a script that feels like it was written by an algorithm having a mid-life crisis.

The Chemistry Experiment

Men in Black: International isn't a reboot, but a "legacy expansion," taking the secret agency global. We follow Molly (Tessa Thompson), a woman who spent her life hunting down the MIB after a childhood alien encounter. She’s smart, driven, and eventually maneuvers her way into a probationary role as Agent M. She gets sent to the London branch, where she’s paired with Agent H (Chris Hemsworth), a legendary operative who has clearly started coasting on his good looks and past glories.

On paper, this is great. I loved the reversal of the dynamic—instead of the grumpy veteran and the wide-eyed rookie, we get the hyper-competent newcomer and the disorganized "golden boy." Tessa Thompson plays the straight-woman role with a grounded intelligence that keeps the movie from drifting into total space-dust. Chris Hemsworth, meanwhile, is leaning hard into his "goofy hunk" persona. He’s charming, sure, but there’s a missing spark here. In the original films, the friction between Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones was the engine. Here, the friction feels more like two very attractive people politely waiting for their turn to speak.

A War Behind the Lens

The most interesting thing about this movie actually happened when the cameras weren't rolling. If the film feels a bit disjointed, it’s likely because the production was a notorious battlefield. Director F. Gary Gray and veteran producer Walter Parkes reportedly clashed so frequently that Gray tried to quit the project multiple times. You can see that tug-of-war on screen. The film wants to be a sleek, modern action-comedy, but it keeps getting bogged down by tired franchise tropes that feel like they were mandated by a boardroom.

Apparently, the original script by Art Marcum and Matt Holloway was much edgier, focusing on the "International" aspect with a plot involving a global immigration metaphor. By the time it reached us, most of that was sanded down in favor of a "find the mole" plot that I managed to solve before the first bucket of popcorn was empty. There’s a specific kind of frustration in watching talented people like Rebecca Ferguson (who plays a three-armed intergalactic arms dealer) show up for ten minutes of fun only to be whisked away so we can get back to the predictable mystery.

Gadgets, Gizmos, and Glitz

Since this is an action movie, we have to talk about the toys. The MIB franchise has always been about the "cool factor" of its tech, and International leans into this with a massive budget. We get a hoverbike chase through the streets of Marrakesh that is objectively well-staged, featuring a bike that transforms out of a parked Jaguar. The CGI is seamless—we’ve come a long way since the practical puppets of the 90s—but I found myself missing the grit.

The action choreography is clean, but it lacks the stakes. When Rafe Spall or the "Alien Twins" (played by the incredible dancers Laurent and Larry Bourgeois) show up, the movie moves with a certain rhythmic grace. The twins, in particular, bring a strange, liquid energy to their fight scenes that I haven't seen in other blockbusters. However, because Agent H and Agent M feel essentially invincible, the shootouts with high-tech "de-atomizers" start to feel like a very expensive game of laser tag.

One of the few highlights for me was Pawny, a tiny alien voiced by Kumail Nanjiani. Usually, the "cute sidekick" is a recipe for a headache, but Nanjiani’s cynical, dry delivery actually made me laugh out loud. It felt like he was the only one allowed to acknowledge how ridiculous the whole situation was.

Ultimately, Men in Black: International suffers from the very thing it tries to hide: it’s a movie without a soul. It’s a shiny, professional product that checks every box of "Contemporary Cinema"—diverse casting, global locations, and tie-ins for a potential cinematic universe—but it forgets to give us a reason to care. I didn't hate my time with it, but by the time I reached the bus stop after the movie, the plot had already started to dissolve in my brain like a sugar cube in hot coffee.

It’s a curious artifact of the late 2010s franchise boom—a film that exists because the IP was too valuable to leave on the shelf, even if nobody had a new story to tell. If you’re a die-hard fan of the leads, you might find enough charm to carry you through. Otherwise, you’re better off reaching for the neuralyzer and just re-watching the 1997 original. Some suits are just hard to fill.