Thunder Force

We have officially reached the "throw it at the wall and see if it sticks" stage of the superhero industrial complex. It’s a strange time to be a moviegoer when the genre has become so ubiquitous that it’s no longer about the hero’s journey, but rather about what specific flavor of celebrity you want to see in spandex. Enter Thunder Force, a film that feels less like a calculated blockbuster and more like a very expensive weekend getaway for a group of incredibly talented friends.

I watched this on a rainy Tuesday while trying to assemble a flat-pack bookshelf, and I can honestly say the movie was significantly more coherent than the instructions for my new "Billy" bookcase. It’s a "Netflix Original" in the truest sense of the term—a movie designed to be consumed in the comfort of your pajamas, likely while you’re scrolling through your phone, which is exactly how the streaming giant conquered the 2021 landscape.

The Falcone-McCarthy Cinematic Universe

By now, we know the drill with the Ben Falcone and Melissa McCarthy partnership. They’ve given us Tammy, The Boss, and Life of the Party. Their brand is built on a very specific kind of improvisational chaos and heartfelt, if occasionally messy, character work. In Thunder Force, they tackle the "Miscreants"—superpowered sociopaths created by a cosmic ray blast. Octavia Spencer plays Emily, the tech-genius who develops a serum to give regular people powers, while Melissa McCarthy is Lydia, the childhood best friend who accidentally injects herself with the "super strength" half of the treatment.

There is something genuinely refreshing about seeing two women in their 50s leading an action-comedy without the movie constantly apologizing for it. In an era where "representation" often feels like a corporate checklist, seeing Octavia Spencer (who we usually see in prestigious, Oscar-adjacent fare like Hidden Figures) suit up is a joy. However, the film often struggles to decide if it’s a parody of the MCU or a sincere entry into the genre. The CGI suits look like they were salvaged from a high-budget Power Rangers reboot, and while that might be the point, it occasionally drains the stakes from the actual action sequences.

A Side of Crab Legs

If there is a reason to seek this out among the endless scroll of the Netflix library, it is Jason Bateman. Playing a half-human, half-crab henchman known simply as The Crab, Bateman delivers every line with a deadpan sincerity that belongs in a much weirder, much better movie. His burgeoning romance with Melissa McCarthy’s Lydia—complete with a dream sequence involving a dinner of raw chicken and a dance number—is the highlight of the film. It’s the kind of "oddity" I live for in cinema; a moment where everyone involved clearly said, "This is stupid, let's do it anyway."

The rest of the supporting cast is equally overqualified. Bobby Cannavale plays The King with his signature "charismatic sleezebag" energy (see: Boardwalk Empire), and Pom Klementieff (the beloved Mantis from Guardians of the Galaxy) gets to flex her actual martial arts skills as the villainous Laser. Even Melissa Leo pops up as a handler named Allie. It’s a testament to Falcone's reputation that he can pull this level of talent into a script that mostly revolves around jokes about smelling like sulfur and the difficulty of getting into a Lamborghini while wearing a tactical suit.

Streaming Staples and Superhero Fatigue

Released during the tail end of the pandemic-induced theatrical drought, Thunder Force was a victim of its own timing. In 2021, we were drowning in "content" but starving for "cinema." It sits in that middle-of-the-road lane where it isn't quite sharp enough to be a classic like Galaxy Quest, but it’s too earnest to be dismissed as garbage. It is essentially a $75 million home movie that happens to feature three Oscar nominees.

The action choreography, handled by a team that clearly knows their way around a stunt rig, is surprisingly competent. There’s a scene involving a bus that actually has some weight to it, even if the physics are purely "comic book logic." But the film lives or dies on your tolerance for McCarthy's specific brand of physical comedy. If you find her eating raw chicken or struggling with a high-tech car funny, you’ll have a blast. If not, the 107-minute runtime might feel like a slow march through a vat of sulfur.

Interestingly, the film features Vivian Falcone (the real-life daughter of McCarthy and Falcone) playing the younger version of Lydia. It adds a layer of genuine familial warmth to the "estranged friends" backstory that helps ground the more ridiculous elements. It’s a small detail, but in the streaming era where movies can feel manufactured by an algorithm, that touch of "real life" matters.

Ultimately, Thunder Force is a pleasant enough diversion that doesn't quite stick the landing. It’s a victim of the very "franchise saturation" it tries to poke fun at, arriving at a moment when we were all a bit tired of origin stories—even funny ones. While it won't change your life or the landscape of cinema, it’s worth a watch just to see Jason Bateman scuttle sideways out of a room. Sometimes, that’s all you really need from a Friday night movie.