Thunderbolts*

There’s a specific, desperate energy that comes with being the "B-team," and I’ve always found it way more relatable than the god-like perfection of the A-list heroes. You know that feeling when you’re the last one picked for dodgeball, but you realize that being on the team of outcasts means you can actually have some fun? That’s the vibe Jake Schreier taps into with *Thunderbolts**. I watched this while recovering from a mild case of food poisoning—specifically from a questionable street taco—and the queasy, "why am I here?" energy of the characters mirrored my own physical state perfectly. It honestly made the movie better.

The Misfit Toys of the Multiverse

For a while there, the Marvel Cinematic Universe felt like it was spinning its wheels in a giant vat of CGI soup. We were all drowning in "Multiverse" this and "Quantum" that. But *Thunderbolts feels like a sharp, necessary pivot back to people who actually bleed. The plot is simple enough: a group of state-sponsored assassins and super-soldiers are sent on a mission that smells like a suicide trap from the jump. Leading the pack is Florence Pugh** as Yelena Belova, and I’m convinced she could have chemistry with a toaster. She brings this weary, dry-witted cynicism to the role that anchors the entire film.

Then you’ve got Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, looking like he hasn't slept since the 1940s, and Wyatt Russell as John Walker, who plays "insufferable guy who thinks he’s the hero" with terrifying precision. This isn't a team; it’s a group therapy session held at gunpoint. Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who I still occasionally expect to start talking about "the VEEP") is delightfully cold as Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. She’s the one pulling the strings, and you can tell she’s having the time of her life being the corporate face of American interventionism.

Punching Up (And Out)

What surprised me most was the action. In an era where we’ve become accustomed to the "Volume" (that giant LED screen technology used in The Mandalorian) making everything look a bit too clean, *Thunderbolts gets its hands dirty. There’s a kitchen fight early on that feels remarkably grounded—it’s less about flashy poses and more about using a refrigerator door as a tactical weapon.** I’ve heard through the grapevine that the production leaned heavily on practical stunts, and it shows. There’s a weight to the hits that reminded me of Schreier’s work on the show Beef (2023)—that sense of messy, human rage boiling over.

The cinematography by Andrew Droz Palermo, who gave The Green Knight (2021) its haunting beauty, brings a surprisingly moody palette to the proceedings. It’s grittier than your average Marvel fare. It doesn't look like a toy commercial. Even the costumes, like the tactical gear worn by David Harbour’s Alexei Shostakov (Red Guardian), look like they’ve been washed in a communal laundromat. Speaking of David Harbour, he provides the much-needed "embarrassing dad" energy, though I did find myself wishing his Russian accent was about 20% less cartoonish.

The Sentry in the Room

The real "wild card" here is Lewis Pullman as Robert Reynolds, or "Bob." For the uninitiated, Bob is the Sentry, a character with the power of a million exploding suns and the mental stability of a Jenga tower in a hurricane. Lewis Pullman plays him with this haunting, wide-eyed vulnerability that makes you feel bad for him right before you realize he could accidentally delete a zip code. Interestingly, Steven Yeun was originally cast in this role but had to drop out due to the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strikes. While I love Yeun, Pullman brings a "lost puppy" quality that makes the eventual chaos feel more tragic.

One of the coolest bits of trivia I found out was that Florence Pugh actually gave fans an unauthorized "set tour" on Instagram during production, accidentally showing off some of the tactical suits before the marketing team was ready. It’s that kind of rogue energy that defines the film. The movie also had a bit of a "Cult Classic" uphill battle before it even premiered; fans were skeptical of another "team-up" movie after The Suicide Squad (2021) did the "bad guys on a mission" thing so well. But *Thunderbolts** carves its own niche by focusing on the domesticity of these losers—their bickering, their shared trauma, and the fact that most of them are just looking for a parental figure who won't betray them.

The "asterisk" in the title remained a mystery for months, sparking endless Reddit threads. Without spoiling the reveal, I’ll just say it’s a clever nod to the fact that this team isn't exactly what they were promised they’d be. It’s a meta-commentary on the franchise itself: we’re in an era of "franchise fatigue," and the film knows it. It leans into its outsider status.

At the end of the day, *Thunderbolts** is a film about second chances for people who probably don’t deserve them. It doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel, but it does manage to change the tire while the car is still moving. It’s funny, it’s surprisingly bleak in parts, and it actually cares about the people under the masks. If you’re tired of the shiny, perfect version of heroism, this group of losers might just be exactly what you need. Just maybe avoid the street tacos before you go in.