Marvel Studios’ The Fantastic Four: First Steps is in theaters now, and I, your local intrepid editor-reporter and #2 Reed Richards Hater, headed to see if this reboot was as bad as the last.

Spoiler Alert: This review contains a very in-depth review of the entire film, including some major spoilers for the ending, post-credit scenes, and how we feel about the Fantastic Four pizza tie-in meals. Read at your own risk.

Why Do You Hate Reed Richards?

For fun.

The Fantastic Four have never been in my top list of superheroes. He’s stretchy, she’s invisible, et cetera.

But I knew my goose was cooked when they said it was a period piece set in the midcentury with a focus on retrofuturism inspired by Tomorrowland. What a sentence. “They’re trying to make me like the Fantastic Four,” I griped. The car. The rocket. The Baxter Building! That beautiful turquoise Eero Saarinen Chair!!

But I digress.

It’s not serious, of course. But committing to ridiculous bits is one of my hobbies, and I like Doctor Doom, so I named myself the vice president of the Reed Richards Hater Club. (The president, of course, is Victor von Doom). I was so ready to write down a million jokes.

But in contrast to my fun, imaginary grudge, I went into the movie with an open mind. I’m a professional, after all.

I’m not afraid to eat crow, though. They really came out here and made me like not just Johnny Storm, but Reed Richards, too. Kudos!

So let’s dig in.

“Not Another Fantastic Four Movie…”

Amid some alleged superhero movie fatigue, I think I speak for many of us when I say that the announcement of yet another Fantastic Four movie was met with resignation. Of course they’re trying again. Disney has their paws on the rights now, so they’re bringing them under the umbrella.

Maybe that’s why they showed practically half of the movie in the trailers — to plead their case. That’s certainly what it felt like.

They rolled out a star-studded cast and locked in Matt Shakman to direct, banking on goodwill from the success of WandaVision. And it was a good choice. WandaVision was full of mini period pieces with tongue-in-cheek genre references and a heaping serving of emotional complexity. It also had something heavy to say about motherhood and anticipatory grief, which Shakman revisits in First Steps.

Baby Franklin’s involvement was the worst-kept secret in the early marketing days, but his mere existence did a lot of heavy lifting in the film. The stakes were heightened, the characters were grounded, and there were moments made heavy with resonance for any moviegoer who has ever loved a child. More on that, later.

If It’s Not an Origin Story, What Is It?

Ah, see, I think they tricked us on that.

Marvel has been adamant that this would not be yet another origin story. The struggle to accept what they’d become is behind them — even for The Thing/Ben Grimm (played by The Bear‘s Ebon Moss-Bachrach). There are shadows of his inner turmoil. A poignant moment (spoiled in the trailers) sees him looking through a window of an electronics shop and seeing his former face on a television screen. The screen cuts out to reveal his rocky reflection. He shows hesitance in forming a connection with Rachel (Natasha Lyonne).

But largely, they’re comfortable in their abilities and their team.

So why do I think they tricked us? Because this is an origin story. It’s Franklin’s.

Franklin Richards is a major player in the comics, as he holds immense power. He’s a hero, he’s a threat, he’s everything in between as he grows up. His MCU future is unclear, but — as Galactus says — “He possesses the power cosmic.” Galactus envisions him as his successor, his heir, his savior.

It’s Reed and Sue’s worst nightmare. It’s any parent’s worst nightmare.

Let’s go back to the start.

The Fantastic Four: First Steps – A Synopsis

The movie opens on Reed Richards, played by Pedro Pascal (The Mandalorian), as he searches a luxurious bathroom. From the other room, his wife tells him to just wait a minute, and she can come show him where it is. They pushed the family theme hard during the press tour, and it’s cemented in these brief opening moments.

The dynamic between Sue Storm — brought to life in this iteration by Vanessa Kirby (The Crown) — and Reed feels comfortable and natural, and this particular discussion has the hallmarks of one rehashed many times. Long-suffering spouses will recognize Sue’s exasperated tone.

Unfortunately, this also kicks off the worst part of the movie. The pacing for the first fourth is less than fantastic (sorry, I had to), and this is largely due to the attempt to give an origin story while trying very hard to make it feel like anything but.

The talk show special is a unique take on this, but it would have worked a lot better if we hadn’t already seen practically the whole thing in the various promos. It could have been great! But (and your mileage may vary), having seen it over and over? It’s tired.

(Side note: Disney seems to be having a recurring issue with marketing their movies. Between this, Elio, Snow White, and more, it seems like the marketing department isn’t in sync with the creative side. CEO Bob Iger made a big fuss about putting control back in the hands of the creative talent, but the recent campaigns make it seem like they have no faith in their product or their audience.)

We bounce from the poignant pregnancy reveal, which was an emotionally charged moment as the parents-to-be are in disbelief. They tried to have a baby for years, Reed reveals, and had stopped talking about it. They’re both tentatively elated, but haunted by the shroud of the unknown. What happens when two people with cosmically-altered DNA have a baby? They’re going to figure it out together. As a family.

(Seriously, this movie says “family” almost as often as Fast & Furious.)

But from there, it goes into the previously seen footage. Ben figures out that Sue is pregnant. He and Johnny jump on this opportunity to tease Reed, which is a running bit not unlike my own.

The television special’s flashback footage plays, and the Silver Surfer arrives to herald Galactus on Halloween. By now, Sue is very pregnant.

A recurring theme in most Fantastic Four stories is body horror. They’ve been changed intrinsically in unnatural ways. It’s used sparingly but effectively in a unique way for First Steps. The characters are at peace with their natures, but we, the audience, have to grapple with their reality.

A striking moment of this is when Sue uses her power to make her abdomen see-through, and they literally look at the baby in the womb. There was nothing gory about it, but it sent a shiver down my spine regardless. No, thank you. Put that thing back where it came from. (No, not that Thing.)

We’re introduced to the first Plot Device in a scene that focuses less on the fact that Reed Richards has just successfully transported an egg across his laboratory and more on the fact that he’s using the imminent arrival of his baby to avoid making new spacesuits for the team.

Of course, the general reaction to the news that Earth has been marked for death is ill-received by her citizens. Reed goes into Problem Solving Mode and finally makes the new suits — a task he accomplishes overnight, bringing even more heft to the procrastination. It wasn’t like the project was time-intensive. No, there’s a much deeper fear here.

To Reed, the last suits were inadequate. A failure on his part, among other failures, that caused their transmogrification on their last journey. The introduction of the new suits also brings in Chekov’s gun — Reed sternly warns Johnny that the suit is fireproof, but he must pay attention to a gauge while “flamed on” or he will die. As the rule goes, a warning gauge introduced in the first act must be ignored by the third.

The voyage through the stars in pursuit of Galactus is guided by a series of deep-space transmissions that Reed has been recording on actual records, as well as the discovery of five planets previously eaten by Galactus. They track the Silver Surfer to Galactus’ ship.

On paper, I understand that for the movie to move forward, Sue had to go to space. The in-universe explanations are simple — Sue is a crucial member of the space shuttle team, and the trip will take time. But it set my nerves on edge. “This is incredibly stupid,” I wrote in my notes, “and profoundly irresponsible.”

The team arrives in time to watch Galactus eat a planet before the Surfer phases into their ship and takes them to the Devourer himself. It immediately goes south as he hones in on Sue’s stomach and demands “The Child.” (Grogu?!)

They balk and refuse, boldly declaring that Galactus can have neither the Earth nor their son.

“I will eat your planet slowly while your child watches,” Galactus retorts, and casts some sort of beam at Sue that sends her into labor. The ensuing frantic attempt to escape is fast-paced, coordinated chaotically enough to make the audience believe there’s no way they will make it home completely unscathed.

Even once they make it to their ship, the stakes continue to rise. Sue is in active labor, the baby is coming now, and they’re in space with a damaged ship and being pursued by the relentless Silver Surfer. There’s another body horror moment where the Surfer phases her hand into Sue’s stomach in an attempt to take the baby forcibly from her body.

The whole scene is unrealistic, but in a surprisingly grounded way. The terror is visceral. I think most parents have had a moment of pure fear about their child being taken away, and certainly about childbirth in general. It’s a fraught moment that resonated heavily.

Both Kirby and Pascal knock it out of the park here, with Sue’s strength through her pain and fear, and Reed floundering as he’s pulled between two incredibly important, time-sensitive situations: his wife in dangerous labor with no medical team, and the ongoing damage to the ship. To top it off, they’re running out of fuel. Sue needs him, Ben needs him, Johnny needs him, and as much as he can stretch to be in all places physically, even his incredible mind cannot solve all these problems at once.

Amid this, there’s still a poignant, tender moment when the baby is born. Though I think it lost some of the impact it could have had if they leaned into the horror of it all. The baby was, as usual, remarkably clean, and the medical urgency just… stops. Like you can just pop out a baby in a spaceship and everything is chill.

They return home to a lovely juxtaposition of joy and tragedy. The world celebrates their return with crowds cheering in the streets and a horde of eager reporters waiting to hear about their victory. Meanwhile, the team emerges solemnly. They’re corralled to a press conference, which Reed kicks off by admitting that, after a month to think about it, they have no prepared statement.

This is a well-crafted scene. The shift is palpable as the crowd feels the failure of their heroes and the impending extinction of humankind. The team turns their backs on them simultaneously. Everyone is rattled, but none more than Reed Richards.

He has nothing. Mister Fantastic, the smartest man in the world, has nothing in the face of his fear. The team and the world are looking to him for a plan, and he’s facing the world’s worst Trolley Problem: saving the world or saving his child.

(Pascal’s Joel Miller makes a similar choice in The Last of Us.)

And here’s where I changed my tune on Doctor Richards. As the world falls apart in fear, news programs show the closed banks and the rising Cult of Galactus. The same people who used to wear Fantastic Four t-shirts and buy breakfast cereal with their faces on the box now yell at them when they go in public — “What about us? We have families, too.” “The Fantastic Four could save us today, and they refuse to.”

The team isn’t ignorant of the public demands. They’re appalled when Reed acknowledges the validity of their arguments. Their plan to sacrifice Franklin is “mathematically and ethically” right.

He’s not wrong, and it has to be said. It has to be acknowledged that they are making a choice here. And the public is right to be upset. Both sides of this unwinnable argument are right in their convictions.

Sue is appalled that he’s even thought about it, but Reed insists that he has to, leading to another moment that hits hard emotionally. “Sometimes, you being you hurts me,” she tells him, hitting him where it hurts as many couples do when arguing. The way Reed deflates and mumbles, “I don’t mean to,” only makes it harsher.

Then comes a moment when, alone with Franklin, Reed finally decides to quit scanning the baby. Ever since Galactus told them that “He hides his nature from you,” he’s been trying to identify Franklin’s power. But that stops now, because no matter what, he’s still just Franklin. And Reed tells him he hopes Franklin doesn’t turn out like himself. “There’s something wrong with me,” he says, “Always has been.” Pascal’s delivery of these strained lines is evocative.

After Sue introduces the protestors outside the Baxter Building to baby Franklin and gives a rousing speech about family, the world unites to build the Plot Device transporter bridges across the globe. To quote Bruce Banner from the original Incredlbe Hulk Coaster, “I think this time, it’s going to work!”

Their attempt to move the entire Earth is thwarted by the Silver Surfer destroying every bridge other than the one at the Baxter Building. Their defeat is hammered home by Galactus landing on the planet, heading for Franklin.

The big, final fight sequence is intense. It’s not only the child endangerment, it’s the pervasive escalation of desperation. And Kirby carries the sequence. The Invisible Woman is a powerful entity, and we get to see that power in full glory as Sue faces off with Galactus. She pushes him toward the portal with all her strength even has he holds her baby in his hand.

This scene also serves to support the decision to not make this film an origin story. This is not a fumbling, novice team struggling to master their powers and learn to work together. This is a well-oiled unit who know and trust each other. The others realize what Sue is attempting, and immediately move to cover all the bases.

Look, we all know the cast is returning for Doomsday, but with the MCU? There are many ways that can happen. The unexpected death of Sue, despite knowing it wouldn’t be permanent, brought me to tears. Kirby and Pascal deserve all the praise for this scene, but Moss-Bachrach and Quinn also bring a heavy hand to the emotional impact here.

With Galactus and the Surfer gone to universes unknown, things seem to end well. An after-credits scene, however, gives us the teaser for Doomsday — kind of. Following a four year time jump, we see Sue reading to a toddler Franklin. She gets up to find him a different book, but when she returns, he’s not on the sofa anymore. He’s up, talking to a cloaked figure, who crouches in front of the boy and clutches a certain silver mask.

The Fantastic Four: First Steps Review

Summer blockbusters are for the drive-in, and you can’t change my mind. It seemed fitting given the era, though it probably would have been better if we’d been watching from the Fantasticar.

The Good:

The worldbuilding is well-crafted, and the story woven through. The backstory exposition is given in-universe in a way that feels natural, and other character building is reinforced through the details. The Thing visits his old haunt on Yancy Street, without the self-deprecation and regret that usually weigh him down. Instead, he’s a frequent flyer, buying bags of cookies from the local bakery, visiting the Synagogue, and entertaining the children with feats of strength.

It’s also presented in such a way that a viewer need not have seen a single other MCU production or picked up a comic book to understand.

The Bad:

The biggest flaw of this film is the pacing. It’s worst in the beginning, and finds a good rhythm before the third act.

My personal complaint is the post-credits scene, but it’s not a real critique. I hoped we’d see Victor von Doom (but didn’t expect to). I also hoped that when Sue stood up, we’d see she was pregnant again. Spoiler alert, but Sue and Reed’s daughter, Valeria, is an incredible character (bet you thought I’d say fantastic) and a big part of Doctor Doom’s story as well. Valeria’s inclusion in the MCU has not been announced or confirmed, it was just my hopeful thinking.

I’m dying to know how the rest of that scene pans out. It’s unclear if MCU Sue knows Doom already, though his empty seat at the UN would suggest they’ve crossed paths before.

Regardless, my theories or wishes for the movie not coming true don’t affect my overall opinion of a film.

The Ugly:

Honestly? None of “the bad” stood out enough to be “the ugly.” It’s a good movie, folks.

(If I had to pick something, it’s the scene where Sue and Reed look at Franklin in utero through her skin. It gave me the heebie jeebies.)

And The Fantastic:

The physical sets and practical effects do so much for this film. The world feels lived in, like you could walk through the streets yourself. I wish this would be indicative of a new direction for Marvel, but with Disney’s obsession with The Volume (the big fancy screen that creates virtual sets instead of a green screen), I’m not making any bets.

The Cast

I’ve talked enough about how Shakman’s directing/Pascal’s acting/the script brought a Reed Richards to life that I can’t help but root for, but the other leads cannot be ignored. The main team is solid, with believable dynamics and characterizations that blossom naturally.

Vanessa Kirby as Sue Storm is a scene stealer, and righteously so. Sue is a force to be reckoned with, not only as the Invisible Woman, but as the leader of the Future Foundation. There’s a reason “Mole Man” says that he doesn’t trust surface dwellers, but he does trust Sue Storm. The writers also struck a good balance for her life as a wife, a mother, an astronaut, and a superhero. None of it feels forced like some “strong female” leads, and it’s clear that none of her many hats impact her capability to wear the rest. I already liked Sue going into the movie, but she’s moved up on my roster of favorites.

Ebon Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm is a treat. There are the classic underlying themes of his struggles to live in this form, but for the most part, he’s happy. His rapport with Reed feels genuine for two long-term best friends. There’s a particular moment where Ben gets Reed out of a grief-filled wave of guilt, telling him, “Stretch, I got bad news for you. You’re not that smart.” And his banter with Johnny is funny and rife with camaraderie.

Speaking of Johnny, this iteration from Joseph Quinn was inspired. Johnny is often reduced to his “hothead” and womanizing nature. Those things aren’t absent, but rather, improved. His impulsivity means he’s the first one in pursuit of the Silver Surfer. And at first, his attraction to the Surfer is physical (“Johnny likes space, Johnny likes women…”), but it becomes something he’s clearly not used to.

But that’s not the biggest improvement made to his character. It’s made clear that the team wasn’t selected just because they were Richards’ best friend, wife, and brother in law. Each is a smart, trained astronaut. And Johnny is given a moment to shine when he realizes that he has a cypher for the language of the Silver Surfer. He spends a long time using that cypher to translate all of the deep space transmissions, and learns information that ultimately gets Shalla-Bal (the Surfer’s real name, as he learns), to defy Galactus.

Paul Walter Hauser is another scene stealer as Mole Man/Harvey Elder. His beef with Reed Richards was a particular delight to me, and his jokes hit every time.

Final Thoughts (Are The Fantastic Four Doomed?)

Honestly, I subscribed to the theory that they were doomed from the start. I thought for sure Galactus was going to win and the team would escape at the last minute to end up in the main MCUVerse.

Regardless, overall, I think The Fantastic Four: First Steps is the superhero movie we need right now. It’s bright, it’s optimistic, it reminds us that hope is out there. If we help one another and never give up, there can be a better world (that doesn’t get eaten by a giant dude).

First Thunderbolts*, and now First Steps? I think Marvel might be back. For now, I’ll remain hesitantly optimistic, but the difference between these two films and the upcoming Avengers movies is the scale. Thunderbolts* and The Fantastic Four are character-driven. The Avengers films have to reckon with a frankly overloaded ensemble. There can’t possibly be satisfying arcs for all the major players, let alone the sidekicks.

Rating

I give The Fantastic Four: First Steps 6 out of 7 unsettling Galactus Popcorn Buckets. (I resisted the urge to give it a four just for the bit. )

P.S., What’s Up with The Fantastic Four and Bad Pizza?

“Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.”

– Ian Fleming

For whatever reason, multiple “themed” food offerings for the Fantastic Four include sub-par pizza. You know the kind. It’s the pizza you get when you need something now (perhaps something “hot” and “ready” and the rest doesn’t really matter). It’s edible! But at what cost?

I’d say “well, not much, actually,” but unfortunately, two of them are from theme parks, so you know it isn’t cheap.

Exhibit A: Cafe 4 at Universal Islands of Adventure

Do you love the Fantastic Four from the comics? Do you like to eat bottom rung theme park counter service? Boy, does Universal Islands of Adventure have the place for you. Over at Marvel Super Hero Island, there’s a little joint known as Cafe 4, where you can get mediocre pizza, mediocre pasta, and more!

We reviewed Cafe 4 last year, including the pizza. Spoiler alert: it’s not great — and it’s $11.

Exhibit B: Little Caesar’s Fantastic Four-in-One

It’s not like anyone expected gourmet from Little Caesar’s, so I don’t blame them for this entry in Marvel’s Not-So-Fantastic Pizza Party. But it begs the question — why? Why Little Caesar’s? The retro pizza boxes and advertisements were cute, though. (We did try this, by the way, but I forgot the golden rule: the camera eats first. It wouldn’t have been a pretty picture, though.)

Exhibit C: First Family – 4 Item Combo at Disneyland

In the interest of full disclosure, we did not review the First Family – 4 Item Combo, but we’ve had Alien Pizza Planet pizza before. The slices themselves are not any different than the usual fare. It’s not terrible (Boardwalk Pizza & Pasta at Disney California Adventure is much worse), but it’s still only something we pick when the kids are begging.

Our theory is that someone on the Fantastic Four team has terrible taste in pizza — and our money’s on Johnny. Somebody take that boy to Pizza Moon!

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Katie Francis