Retro-Futuristic Resonance: 'The Fantastic Four: First Steps' Prioritizes Heart Over Hyperbole

In a move suggesting Marvel has absorbed critical feedback from recent box office underperformers, The Fantastic Four: First Steps embraces a pleasing back-to-basics ethos. The film exhibits a refreshing willingness to prioritize character development over the studio's typically overwhelming barrage of interchangeable computer-generated action sequences. Crucially, the filmmakers ensure the audience is presented with relatable individuals worth investing in. This installment smartly stands alone, requiring no intimate knowledge of the sprawling, often overwhelming cinematic multiverse, an expectation that likely contributed to the recent perception of genre fatigue.

The thematic focus on human complexity is underlined by an end-credits quote from Jack Kirby, who co-created the comic series with Stan Lee in 1961: “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 this maxim to heart. Though the eponymous quartet possesses extraordinary powers, they fundamentally operate as a family unit, struggling with the daunting responsibilities life thrusts upon them.

Despite the enduring popularity of the long-running comics, The Fantastic Four has historically failed to translate successfully to the screen. The dismal 2015 reboot, which infamously attempted a "gritty overhaul," was widely regarded as worse than the mediocre 2005 film and its 2007 sequel, where the principal actors exhibited the stilted camaraderie of strangers. While many non-comic readers may associate the franchise primarily with the 1967 Hanna-Barbera Saturday morning cartoon series, the filmmakers seem to share this nostalgic connection.

First Steps successfully evokes a delightful 1960s retro-futuristic atmosphere, visually and aurally. This vibe is channeled through Michael Giacchino’s rousing orchestral score, Kasra Farahani’s vibrant production design, and Alexandra Byrne’s period-appropriate costumes. The film’s interpretation of New York City during the comic's creation—from Times Square to the Lower East Side—yields considerable visual charm, featuring amusing period-specific product placements for brands such as 7Up and Canada Dry. Even the exposition of the origin story is delivered in vintage style via an ABC special celebrating four years of the Fantastic Four, hosted by the ingratiatingly square Ted Gilbert (Mark Gatiss).

The origin story recounts how scientific genius Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal) led a space expedition with his wife, Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), her brother, Johnny (Joseph Quinn), and their good friend, pilot Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach). An encounter with a cosmic storm altered their DNA, returning them to Earth with superhuman abilities and, in Ben’s case, a vastly different physique. Reed gains elastic limbs, Sue can become invisible and generate force fields, Johnny becomes the impulsive, flame-engulfed Human Torch, and Ben is transformed into a massive, boulder-like figure with superhuman strength.

Their subsequent achievements in disaster intervention and peacekeeping—shown via grainy news footage that includes them thwarting the Mole Man’s attempt to destroy the Pan Am building—have rendered the Fantastic Four media darlings and globally adored protectors.

Casting an actor as magnetic as Moss-Bachrach only to strand him behind motion-capture technology, making him resemble the rock monster from Galaxy Quest, might seem a restrictive choice. Yet, he injects remarkable warmth and sensitivity into the character, also known as The Thing in the comics. Despite his stony features, Ben is the most vulnerable member, with sad eyes conveying his belief that he may never experience love. This sensitivity is particularly evident during his scenes with Rachel (Natasha Lyonne), a sweet elementary school teacher from his old neighborhood, who is lovely though underutilized.

The other members are also characterized in distinctively human terms. Reed is an immensely intelligent inventor who thinks in mathematical equations but struggles with emotional expression. Sue is tough and decisive, serving as much a figurehead for the makeshift family as Reed. Johnny is an impulsive, approval-craving thrill-seeker who feels they view him as immature. (Quinn’s appearance, with a blond dye job, sometimes uncannily recalls a young Robert Downey Jr.) Byrne’s costume design reinforces their personalities when they are out of their iconic blue-and-white spacesuits: Reed favors professorial cardigans and ties; Sue opts for sleek turtlenecks and fitted skirts (and a Pucci-like bathrobe); Ben dons the favorite-uncle look of sweater vests and plaid shirts; and Johnny’s fitted denim jacket and beige jeans should undoubtedly boost Levi’s sales.

The actors’ palpable chemistry makes the "hangout scenes" in their fabulous Baxter Building penthouse—featuring a domestic droid resembling a blend of Rosie the Robot from The Jetsons and Number 5 from Short Circuit—some of the film's most appealing interludes. The closeness of their dynamic is immediately fortified by the early surprise news that, after years of trying unsuccessfully, Sue is pregnant.

The crisis that forces them back into space is heralded by the arrival of the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner), who alerts Earth’s citizens that their planet is about to be destroyed by a cosmic entity named Galactus. Garner, in a deviation from the character’s more common male depiction, cuts a commandingly lean-and-mean figure in her CG metallic suit, announcing emotionlessly, “Your world will be consumed by the Devourer.” Initially icy and distant, her formidable speed and fight skills serve the dirty work of Galactus (Ralph Ineson), though Johnny Storm’s persistent attentions eventually expose a softer side and a sorrowful history in the climactic stretch.

When Reed traces the Silver Surfer’s presence to a string of obliterated planets, the Fantastic Four depart in their spaceship despite Sue’s approaching due date. They attempt to negotiate with Galactus—an ancient, gargantuan figure with a corroded tin-can casing—but the offer falls apart when he offers to spare Earth only in exchange for the child Sue is carrying. The stakes are raised considerably by the group’s hair-raising return to New York, pursued by the Silver Surfer, and the birth of Sue and Reed’s son, Franklin, during a zero-gravity, light-speed jump. Galactus' certainty that only their child can assume his throne and free him from his insatiable hunger to consume worlds raises doubts about Franklin developing superpowers, despite Reed’s tests showing the baby to be an ordinary mortal.

Shakman skillfully balances the humor of the family dynamic with the gravity of their situation, steadily building suspense toward Galactus’ inevitable descent to Earth, where he drops into the East River and stomps through the Lower East Side with a visceral, thundering noise (the film packs a charge best experienced in Imax). Rather than allowing the action to dominate, the filmmakers rely on the poignant, character-based scenes to carry the narrative weight. The clashes are fiercely fueled by the four principals' deep love for each other and their corresponding urge to protect their world.

The central theme of family as a force of hope and strength is communicated stirringly by Kirby when Sue addresses the crowd after their refusal to sacrifice the child turns public opinion against them. A heart-wrenching scene between Sue and Reed near the end is played by Pascal with agonized depth of feeling. This is not a movie where one can easily single out an MVP; all four leads bring something special to their respective roles and to the superbly gauged balance of personalities that makes each essential to the group.

Midcentury modern enthusiasts will be captivated by the stunning design elements. The Fantastic Four’s stylish digs, in particular, display a wealth of detail and décor choices that are simultaneously kitschy and cool—from breakfast bar swivel stools and lamps to a gorgeous wall-recessed liquor bar. Shakman successfully employed 1950s and 60s aesthetics in WandaVision, but the period vibe here more directly recalls X-Men: First Class, proving fun without ever descending into camp. The CG work is predictably slick, but the seamless integration of digital elements with practical set builds makes First Steps feel fully inhabited, avoiding the sterile appearance of actors simply standing in front of greenscreens. Despite its vivid and electric space sequences, the visually striking movie often feels like a throwback analog good time.

The film concludes with the obligatory post-credits teaser of what is to come and a breezy homage to an earlier iteration. A tag reveals: “The Fantastic Four will return in Avengers: Doomsday.” Yet, the film's success suggests this disarming family unit deserves to run its own show again.