The pleasing back-to-basics feel in The Fantastic Four: First Steps suggests Marvel has learned valuable lessons from its recent box office under-performers. There’s a fresh willingness to prioritize character over the usual barrage of interchangeable CG action sequences that often overwhelm them, instead giving us relatable folks to invest in. Equally important is the decision to make this a legitimate standalone requiring no homework. The expectation that audiences would have intimate knowledge of a sprawling multiverse covered in a glut of features and TV series no doubt contributed to the perception of genre fatigue.
A quote on the end credits from Jack Kirby, who created the comic book series with Stan Lee in 1961, reads: “If you look at my characters, you will find me. No matter what kind of character you create or assume, a little of yourself must remain there.” Director Matt Shakman and screenwriters Josh Friedman, Eric Pearson, Jeff Kaplan and Ian Springer appear to have taken that to heart. The eponymous quartet may have superpowers, but they are also a family, struggling like most of us to handle the most daunting responsibilities life throws our way.
Despite the popularity of the long-running comics, The Fantastic Four has an undistinguished history as a screen vehicle. The dismal 2015 reboot, which attempted to give the property the dreaded gritty overhaul, had the distinction of being worse than the mediocre 2005 feature and its sequel two years later, in which the leads had all the relaxed camaraderie of people who had just met on the set that day.
Two very funny 2013 episodes of Arrested Development revolved around a parody musical inspired by the never-released 1994 Roger Corman movie (its stars make cameos here). But for many of us who are not avid comic book readers, any surviving fondness for The Fantastic Four is thanks to distant memories of the 1967 Hanna-Barbera Saturday morning cartoon series that ran on ABC for just 20 episodes but resurfaced for decades in reruns.
That would appear to be the case also for the filmmakers, who give First Steps a delightful 1960s retro-futuristic look and feel, echoed in Michael Giachhino’s rousing orchestral score, as well as Kasra Farahani’s production design and Alexandra Byrne’s costumes. The interpretation of New York City around the time the comics were born yields great visual charm — from Times Square to the Lower East Side — with amusing period-specific product placement for brands like 7Up and Canada Dry.
Even the origin story elements are handled in vintage style in an ABC special celebrating four years of the Fantastic Four, hosted by the ingratiatingly square Ted Gilbert (Mark Gatiss).
We learn that scientific genius Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal) led a space expedition with his wife Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby) and her brother Johnny (Joseph Quinn), piloted by their good friend Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach). When their rocket ship encountered a cosmic storm, it altered their DNA, returning them to Earth with superpowers, and in Ben’s case, a vastly different physique.
Reed has elastic limbs and can stretch like a rubber band; Sue is able to become invisible and can generate powerful forcefields and blasts; Johnny is a cocky overgrown kid also known as the Human Torch, who can engulf himself in flames and fly; and Ben is a massive boulder-like hulk with superhuman strength to match.
Their achievements in disaster intervention and peacekeeping — shown in grainy news footage that includes them thwarting the attempt of the Mole Man (Paul Walter Hauser) to destroy the Pan Am building — have made the Fantastic Four media darlings and the planet’s most adored protectors.
Stranding an actor as magnetic as Moss-Bachrach behind motion-capture technology that makes him look like the rock monster from Galaxy Quest might seem a limiting choice. But it’s remarkable how much warmth and sensitivity he injects into the character — also known as The Thing in the comics. Despite his stony features and musclebound body, he’s the most vulnerable of the group, his sad eyes seeming to convey his belief that he’s unlikely ever to experience love. That comes through especially in Ben’s moments with Rachel, a sweet elementary school teacher from his old neighborhood, played by an underutilized but lovely Natasha Lyonne.
The other members of the group also are characterized in distinctly human terms, irrespective of their extraordinary abilities. Reed is an inventor of immense intelligence who thinks in mathematical equations yet often has difficulty expressing himself emotionally. Sue is tough and decisive, no less a figurehead to this makeshift family than Reed. Johnny is an impulsive thrill-seeker, craving the others’ approval and perhaps a little bothered by the feeling that they see him as immature. (Quinn looks at times uncannily like a young Robert Downey Jr. with a blond dye job.)
When not in their iconic blue-and-white spacesuits, Byrne outfits them to fit their respective personalities. Reed wears professorial cardigans and ties; Sue favors sleek turtlenecks and fitted skirts (and what looks like a Pucci bathrobe in the boudoir); Ben sports the favorite-uncle look of sweater vests and plaid shirts; and the fit on Johnny of a denim jacket and beige jeans should do wonders for Levi’s sales.
The actors are so terrific and their chemistry so palpable that the hangout scenes in their fabulous Baxter Building penthouse — with a domestic droid that’s like Rosie the Robot from The Jetsons-meets-Number 5 from John Badham’s Short Circuit — are some of the movie’s most appealing interludes. The closeness of their dynamic is fortified by the surprise news early on that after years of trying unsuccessfully to have a child, Sue is pregnant.
The crisis that forces them to leave home and venture back into space is heralded by the arrival of the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner), alerting the citizens of Earth that their planet is about to be destroyed by a cosmic entity named Galactus. “Your world will be consumed by the Devourer,” she announces, without a trace of emotion.
Making a change from the more common depiction of the Silver Surfer as male, Garner cuts a commandingly lean-and-mean figure in her CG metallic suit. Her countenance is icy and distant and her fight skills as formidable as her speed, but the persistent attentions of Johnny Storm eventually expose a softer side of her and a sorrowful history in the climactic stretch. Until then, however, she does the dirty work of Galactus (Ralph Ineson).
When Reed traces the Silver Surfer’s presence to a string of planets that have been obliterated, the Fantastic Four take off in their spaceship. Despite Sue’s approaching due date, they decide it’s better to seek out their adversary than wait out the Earth’s destruction. But their attempt to negotiate with Galactus — an ancient gargantuan iron man with a corroded tin-can casing covered in nuts and bolts — falls apart when he offers to spare Earth in exchange for the child Sue is carrying.
The group’s hair-raising return to New York with the hard-to-shake Silver Surfer in pursuit, and the birth of Sue and Reed’s son, Franklin, during a light speed jump in zero gravity, raise the stakes considerably. The certainty of Galactus that only their child can assume his throne and free him from his insatiable hunger to consume worlds also raises doubts about Franklin developing superpowers, whereas all of Reed’s tests showed the baby to be an ordinary mortal.
Shakman skillfully balances the humor of the family dynamic with the gravity of the situation they are facing, steadily amping up the suspense as the story builds to Galactus’ inevitable descent to Earth, dropping out of the sky into the East River and stomping through the Lower East Side with thundering noise that rips right through you. (The movie packs a visceral charge seen in IMAX.)
Rather than allowing the action to define the story, the filmmakers let the poignant character-based scenes do the heavy lifting. That should not imply any lack of excitement, but the clashes are fueled by the deep love of the four principal characters for each other and their corresponding urge to keep the people of their world safe.
Family as a force of hope and strength is the key theme here, communicated stirringly by Kirby when Sue addresses the crowd after their refusal to sacrifice the child to save the planet turns public opinion against them. And a scene between Sue and Reed near the end is heart-wrenching, played with agonized depth of feeling by Pascal. But this is not a movie where it’s easy to single out an MVP among the principals. All four leads bring something special to their respective roles and to the superbly gauged balance of personalities that makes each of them essential to the group.
Midcentury modern enthusiasts will go nuts for the stunning design elements. The Fantastic Four’s stylish digs in particular display a wealth of detail and décor choices that are somehow both kitschy and cool, from breakfast bar swivel stools and lamps to a gorgeous wall-recessed liquor bar on the living room mezzanine. Shakman successfully employed 1950s and ‘60s aesthetics in the Disney+ series WandaVision, but the period vibe here more directly recalls X-Men: First Class. It’s fun but never campy.
The CG work is slick as expected but it’s the seamless integration of digital elements with practical set builds that makes First Steps seem so fully inhabited — and not just a bunch of actors in front of greenscreens. Despite its vivid and electric space sequences, the visually striking movie often feels like a throwback analog good time, which certainly worked for me.
Stick around through the end credits for the obligatory teaser of what’s in store and a breezy homage to an earlier iteration. A tag reveals: “The Fantastic Four will return in Avengers: Doomsday.” But here’s hoping this disarming family unit will get to run their own show again.
