“So I just watched The Fantastic Four: First Steps, and I have questions. Like… was this a Marvel movie, a retro furniture ad, or an experimental family sitcom in space? Because this thing has vibes. Big, bold, slightly confused vibes.”
“You know that feeling when you’re halfway through assembling IKEA shelves and suddenly realize the instructions are in Klingon? That’s how this movie felt. Gorgeous… but also, huh?”
Welcome to Retroville
Look — say what you will about the script, the aesthetic? Chef’s kiss. This is Marvel by way of mid-century modern design. Imagine if the Jetsons, WandaVision, and The Incredibles all moved into a fancy space condo together.
The sets are curved, the tech is shiny-but-analog, and the color palette? Muted pastels that make you feel like you’re watching your childhood unfold on a vintage toaster screen.
Critics even pointed this out. It’s got “utopian retro-futurism” in full swing. It’s all very pleasing. But at a certain point, you start wondering: Are we watching a story, or a Pinterest mood board on steroids?
“Look, I love a good aesthetic flex as much as the next nerd, but when your best scenes look like they were styled by Wes Anderson’s intern, we got a pacing problem.”
The Super-Family Sitcom Begins”
Let’s talk tone. Because this movie goes full-family-mode Reed and Sue are expecting, Johnny’s a lovable goof, and Ben is still The Thing (but like… softer, somehow?).
The emotional arc? It’s less Avengers and more Super Nanny. And I don’t mean that in a bad way it just feels like Marvel said, “Let’s make a superhero movie adorable again.”
There’s a baby subplot. There’s a babyproofing montage. Reed Richards literally stretches his limbs to build gadgets for his unborn child. It’s cute. Like, dangerously cute.
“It’s the first MCU film where I felt like I was watching an episode of Bluey with a $200 million budget.”
But here’s the thing some of the drama feels safe. The stakes are very PG. Even when the Earth’s in danger, it never quite feels like it. You’re emotionally invested, sure, but not like… end-of-the-world invested. It’s cozy apocalypse time.
Heroes with Heart (and Padding)
Now, casting-wise? They nailed it.
Pedro Pascal as Reed is pitch-perfect awkward dad energy meets brilliant scientist. Vanessa Kirby as Sue Storm is poised and sharp, and Joseph Quinn is doing his Johnny Storm best, even though the script gives him about three jokes and a flame-on moment.
Ben Grimm aka The Thing is… undercooked. Literally and metaphorically. He’s there, he’s rocky, he grunts, and he has like two emotional scenes that feel lifted from an indie film about repressed dads.
“Why do I feel like The Thing is one Bon Iver song away from spiraling into a midlife crisis?”
The performances are solid but let’s be real: the team chemistry feels… not quite ready. It’s like watching four great actors rehearse on Day 3 of a table read.
When the Villains Upstage the Heroes
Oh, but then Galactus shows up.
Y’all. This Galactus? Absolutely massive, literally and cinematically. He’s terrifying in a “we-worship-space-gods-now” kinda way. And the Silver Surfer? He glides onto the screen like a sentient iPhone commercial and somehow becomes the most compelling character in five minutes flat.
Suddenly, the movie kicks into gear. Visually, it’s gorgeous. Think: cosmic landscapes, swirling celestial chaos, and epic godlike standoffs. It’s giving MCU’s Dune Moment™.
But here’s the kicker the villain arc is better developed than the heroes’. Again.
Why is Marvel so good at making their antagonists pop while their leads are still figuring out dinner plans?
That Dang Baby
Look, we gotta talk about the CGI baby.
There are shots in this movie that are jaw-dropping planets crumbling, the Surfer slicing through satellites but then… you get the baby.
The baby looks like someone deep-faked a rubber doll with early 2000s tech. Like… how did we spend all this money and end up with a less realistic infant than Twilight: Breaking Dawn?
Why does this baby look like it was rendered in Microsoft Paint with RTX on?”
The uncanny valley is real. And distracting. Every time they tried to make the baby smile in a dramatic scene, I just laughed. Sorry. I couldn’t help it.
Big Feels, Small Stakes
Okay, emotionally? The film is sincere. There’s real heart in the script. You can tell the writers wanted to say something about family, legacy, and finding your place in a world that doesn’t quite get you.
But the problem is the pacing. Some scenes drag. Others zip by like a YouTube ad you didn’t skip fast enough. The emotional beats are there… but they don’t always hit.
Reed and Sue’s baby subplot? Sweet. But it’s so central to the story that it sometimes eclipses, y’know… the actual world-ending plot.
“It’s like trying to have a heartfelt chat about parenting… while Galactus is literally eating the sky outside.”
So… Is It Brilliant or Does It Suck?
Alright, final thoughts.
This movie is a cosmic mixed bag. A beautiful, heartfelt, slightly confused love letter to the Fantastic Four that’s clearly trying to be different — and maybe even too safe.
It’s not bad. In fact, it’s got charm for days. But whether you love it or hate it depends on whether you came for family coziness or superpowered chaos.
If you’re looking for a warm, weirdly stylish movie about superheroes figuring out parenthood, you’ll vibe.
If you came for Avengers-level threats and explosive team-ups? You might walk away scratching your head.
I am a journalist with 10+ years of experience, specializing in family-friendly film reviews.