The Fantastic Four

What we have thus is one of the most gorgeous and visually striking outings the Marvel Cinematic Universe has offered as of yet, and that automatically elevates it a touch above usual mainstream or superhero fare.

By Amartya Acharya

The newest propensity to actually skip the origin but not the context is executed far better in this film than in the superhero fare released two weeks ago. In an era where superhero fatigue literally translates to VFX, special effects, and comic book hijinks masquerading as sincerity and accuracy, something about Matt Shakman's handling of the material of The Fantastic Four: The First Steps just hits the beats right.

The Fantastic Four as a super-team have always been about problem-solving, about dealing with the weird hijinks of the Marvel Universe, which does get a lot more verve and style if set during the era of their conception—the 1960s. Thus settling the Fantastic Four into an entirely separate earth (not a spoiler; it's literally in the first frame of the movie). The retro-futuristic 1960s brings to the film a visual uniqueness that one can't exactly replicate.

There is also something to be said about Shakman's choice to use Galactus as the big antagonist (literally and figuratively of this film) that leads to him being framed as almost larger-than-life. 

However, it's that framing that might just hint at the lodestar of this entire film as a whole—the wonder and thrill of space travel, the Kirby weirdness of a spaceboard-surfing cosmic being, chasing a spaceship through a faster-than-light tunnel, through the deep fathoms of space—something about the replication of this entire eventuality cannot be ignored.

What we have thus is one of the most gorgeous and visually striking outings the MCU has offered as of yet, and that automatically elevates it a touch above usual mainstream or superhero fare.

In lieu of the visual uniqueness, the movie does stumble in its depiction of the leads. Pascal as Reed Richards takes some getting used to, as he is channeling less of an authoritative demeanor, and more of a man so in tune with all the probabilities and predictions that he is burdened with the dual responsibility of being the protector of both the world and his son, while having to thread the needle between those two choices.

Pascal channels those moments of vulnerability when the film truly shines, and his chemistry with Kirby as Sue Storm works more because of it. The sequence where Sue actually gives birth to Franklin and almost disappears due to the pain, is one of those clever touches that is a culmination of both emotion and visuals.

It's in giving texture to Johnny Storm that one realizes the futility of the endeavor, as Storm had always been a rather two-dimensional figure, especially during the early depictions in his comic roots. By giving Storm something more to do, the film doesn't entirely manage to separate him or assign him anything unique in the endeavor.

Sure, from a narrative perspective, his relationship and attraction to Shalla Bal, AKA the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner), does make sense, but I would be lying if I said it was effective. On the contrary, Quinn's performance is mostly unremarkable, and unlike Ebon Moss Bacharach's performance as Ben Grimm/The Thing, where the ‘unremarkability’ or the normalcy of his performance was the intention. Quinn's unremarkability actually flatlines the Johnny Storm depiction.

It is also disappointing how much the film actually sidelines The Thing, though I have to give credit that the film doesn't delve into the ‘angstiness’ of the character that had been a trademark of the Lee Kirby era and even the earlier movies. The normalcy of the Thing as a New Yorker, just out of his depth, gives far more texture than a loud performance possibly could. It also helps that the design of The Thing is absolutely gorgeous.

As for Galactus, his imposing nature does excite. However, how he is defeated through a mixture of trickery and super-powered hullabaloo results in a third act, that is still far too familiar for a Marvel film, especially considering how decidedly different this film was attempting to be, and succeeding in not being a traditional Marvel film in the first act.

More importantly, the character development of Galactus is supposed to be non-existent—he is a cosmic being with one goal; and the character arc of his film is to escape from that goal by attempting to satiate the hunger.

Most writers (and that includes films and comics) attempt to flesh out the Surfer and that character's guilt in being an accomplice to Galactus' road to destruction. And while that is referenced here, Garner really has nothing to do in her portrayal of the Silver Surfer, and that is doubly disappointing, though I can surmise why.

At a runtime of barely reaching two hours, The Fantastic Four: The First Steps is easily one of the shorter offerings of the MCU, and at times the apparent attempt at brevity does stand out in the film's inability to flesh out some characters a tad bit more. However, as an offering for a franchise that is almost 40 films old, the film is a fresh start, free of the usual constraints of universe building that the MCU bloat is characterized by.

This is not entirely free of the Marvel brand of humor that does fall flat.  Still, it is a genuinely delightful and sincere film, where the sincerity isn't necessarily advertised as a counter to any cynicism, but rather just exists within the world of the film as a whole.

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Amartya Acharya is a reluctant engineer from the town of Jalpaiguri, nestled in North Bengal, and a scientist and teacher. Inwardly a cinephile, an armour of film critic hiding the romantic expectations of good stories in every form of media consumption.