IT'S STEPPIN' UP TIME: "Fantastic Four: First Steps" Is, Well, Y'Know...Fantastic.

Pendulums are funny things.Start one up, and it’ll swing to extremes—loudly, dramatically, unavoidably. But with time and friction, it slows. It softens. It finds a middle ground. Pendulums aren’t just physical curiosities; they’re metaphors. For thought, for politics, for taste—and yes, for filmmaking.

Especially superhero filmmaking.

When Superman: The Movie hit theaters in 1978, it wasn’t the first big-budget superhero film ever made—but it was the first to be treated as an event. A myth brought to life with budget, sincerity, and craft. But with each sequel, that gravity gave way to excess and ridiculousness. Then Batman (1989) restarted the pendulum’s swing, this time toward darker, moodier territory (with its franchise experiencing its own descent into (further) absurdity until its reboot with Batman Begins, which brought it's own strum and drang of pessimism. That trajectory continued through the aughts and culminated with Man of Steel—a visually stunning, philosophically dense, and controversial attempt to reframe the superhero as something both godlike and painfully human. The Sony's Spider-Man films (both the trilogy and the duology) and Fox's X-Men films followed this trend (though somewhat better suited for these franchises), and one of the major arguments leveled against Marvel Studios' output in the past few years is that it has thematically taken itself way too seriously (Marvel Television's She-Hulk and Ms. Marvel aside). 

But now the pendulum is swinging again.

Like Superman 2025 (reviewed on this blog) Fantastic Four: First Steps feels like a response to the cultural fatigue of grim realism and bloated continuity. It’s not a rejection of seriousness, but a reclamation of joy. For Marvel, it feels prophetic—and just cheeky enough—to call this film "First Steps". After a divisive few years, it does feel like a beginning. And more importantly, a correction.

Set in an alternate universe outside the tangled mainline MCU, Fantastic Four: First Steps uses its premise to its advantage. It’s a reset, and in that way, self-aware. The film opens on a version of Earth that borders on utopia, thanks to the scientific advancements of Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Susan Storm (Vanessa Kirby), Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn), and Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach). Their accomplishments have elevated civilization—until the arrival of the Herald.

That would be Jamie Gardner’s Silver Surfer, an ethereal, morally burdened emissary warning of an incoming cosmic force: Galactus. This devourer of worlds threatens everything the Four have built—and forces them into a dilemma that could cost them one of their own. The stakes are cosmic, but the story stays grounded in the personal. Sacrifice looms. Family is tested. But the film never loses its soul.

Visually, the film is a retro-futuristic triumph. Its design evokes a World’s Fair vision of the future—mid-century optimism spliced with sleek, modern minimalism. Think Disney's Tomorrowland, but lived-in. Think "Kirby crackle" meets "Mad Men". Production design leans into a kind of mid-century futurism—a retro-futuristic world that fuses 1960s optimism with modern sensibility. It’s all gleaming towers, brushed chrome, clean lines, and Kirby-inspired tech. It feels hopeful. It feels lived in. And most importantly, it feels different from the apocalyptic tone of the last two decades. Director Matt Shakman leans hard into this aesthetic, grounding the film in an era that never was but feels eternal. This marriage of retro and now isn’t just stylistic; it’s thematic. Fantastic Four isn’t interested in grim dystopia. It wants to show you a world worth saving—and that matters.

Composer Michael Giacchino, known for his lush orchestrations and thematic clarity, provides a score that does feel familiar—at times echoing his work on Star Trek (2009). The main theme recurs frequently, maybe too frequently, but his talent lies in emotional modulation.Like John Williams before him, Giacchino knows how to shift tone, tempo, and instrumentation to match emotion. The repetition becomes an emotional throughline. By film’s end, the repetition doesn’t grate—it comforts. It becomes the heartbeat of the story.

Cinematically, the Fantastic Four have had a rough road. The Tim Story films were awkward, tonally uneven. The Josh Trank reboot… best left in the Negative Zone.

But here, the casting and chemistry work. Indeed, they are the selling point of the film. Pedro Pascal brings gravitas and restraint to Reed Richards. Joseph Quinn’s Johnny Storm is charismatic and grounded. Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm adds emotional heft beneath the gruffness, though the traditional banter between Thing and Torch is more subdued than fans might expect.The standout, though, is Vanessa Kirby. Her Susan Storm is the heart and engine of the film. While Reed may be the intellectual leader, it's Sue who commands emotional authority. The film heavily leans into themes of maternal protection and emotional resilience, making her arc not just central—but essential. In many ways, it’s her movie. 

Ralph Ineson's "Galactus"...see for yourself. 

Regarding the "Silver Surfer" controversy, consider this. While purists might lament the absence of Norrin Radd’s backstory in this version of the Silver Surfer, the creative liberties taken here are consistent with the film’s themes, particularly those relating to family. The reinterpretation feels earned and helps tie the Surfer's conflict directly into the group’s climactic decisions.

Like Superman, First Steps is saturated in bright color—visually and emotionally. Blues, whites, silvers. Not just costumes, but skylines; crafting an identity and world in and of itself truly separate from the main MCU. Just as important, the public wants their heroes. Yes, there's a moment of backlash. A crisis of trust. But the film doesn’t wallow in cynicism. Instead, it reaffirms the social contract between powered protectors and the people they serve.

It’s a movie about hope. About family. About new beginnings.

And it’s not afraid to smile.

If superhero fatigue is real, then Fantastic Four: First Steps is a jolt of cinematic B-12. It’s not ironic, but it is self-aware. It doesn’t apologize for being hopeful, colorful, and at times earnestly emotional. Instead, it embraces those things—and dares you to do the same.

Much like the pendulum that started this review, this film is a swing back toward equilibrium. A reminder that these stories don’t have to be sermons or punchlines. They can just be fantastic.

For Marvel Studios, Fantastic Four: First Steps is a step in the right direction.

MAN OF FEEL: "Superman" Is A Doggone Good Time

December 15, 1978.

I’m nine years old. I sit in a movie theater to watch Superman: The Movie. I leave the theater grinning from ear to ear.

June 28, 2006.

I’m thirty-seven years old. I sit in a movie theater to watch Superman Returns, the first reboot of the cinematic franchise. I leave the theater disappointed.

June 14, 2013.

I’m forty-four years old. I sit in a movie theater to watch Man of Steel, the second reboot. I leave the theater somberly disquieted. Dejected.

July 8, 2025.

I’m fifty-six years old, far older than the target demographic. I sit in a movie theater to watch Superman, the latest reboot. I leave the theater...

 ...grinning from ear to ear.

Reviewing Superman is a difficult prospect for me, as I’ve had a lifelong love and obsession with this character. "Superman" has been with me through the ups and downs of life, uplifting me with his adventures—spearheaded by hundreds of talented writers and artists/actors and directors over decades too numerous to count. As such, his cinematic journey has also been a major part of my life. Each film has, for better or worse, reflected the times in which it was made.

But it wasn’t until I had to review Man of Steel that I began to wonder if the character had passed me by.

However, if nothing else, James Gunn manages to make what seemed impossible possible: making an aging cynic like me feel like a kid again.

Director James Gunn was under the proverbial, well... gun, in more ways than one. He had the unenviable task of rebooting a character with a troubled cinematic history—and an entire cinematic universe. It’s safe to say the shots were not only fired but landed on target, even if not all were bullseyes.

One of the major issues with the character, which has seemingly increased with each generation since his inception, is relatability. Superman is “too good”—or, as others put it, too corny. Almost perfect. Unrelatable. Gunn builds the entire film challenging that very presumption: Is it believable to be a good person in a mean world?

The film takes place three years after Superman’s public debut. After intervening in a war between two nations, Superman (David Corenswet) finds himself at the center of a socio-political firestorm. While he has his supporters, he also has his detractors—most especially tech billionaire Lex Luthor (Nicholas Hoult), who will stop at nothing to eliminate Superman and everything he represents.

Gunn takes a page from Richard Donner’s playbook, using the concept of “verisimilitude” and turning it up to eleven. He embraces the Silver-and-Bronze-Age comic book concepts, giving them modern sensibility and leaning into them fully—without snark, and certainly without embarrassment.

Of course, that "modern sensibility" means much of the plot reflects the current zeitgeist. Issues regarding immigration, race, and class are minor themes here. While some may argue that these issues (and certain casting choices) make the film “woke”—for lack of a better word—these themes emerge organically from the story.

Further, as this blog has posited many times, “art” does not exist independently of the time in which it is created. It serves as either a reflection or reaction to the era it’s made in. It is not perceived in a vacuum. And regardless of the creator’s intentions, it is ultimately up to the viewer to interpret the art. The fact that Superman himself was created in response to the social realities of the late 1930s is certainly not irrelevant.

Superman evokes the feeling of a comic book spinner rack right from the start. It’s like flipping open the page of a long-running comic. The film presumes the viewer already knows Superman’s origin and skips the (re)telling to let the narrative unfold—and unfold it does.

The action and pacing are relentless. The CGI is top-notch. The film is bright—a stark contrast to the dark tone (and visuals) of the 2013 iteration.

But like any sci-fi CGI fest, it would be hollow without strong performances—and it has them. It’s rare for me to say this, but every actor brought their A-game. Too many, in fact, to name them all.

Rachel Brosnahan is striking—visually and emotionally—as intrepid reporter Lois Lane, serving as a cynical foil to the Man of Steel while remaining his romantic counterpart. Excuse the pun, but Nicholas Hoult is a beast as Lex Luthor, delivering a surprisingly rousing performance that exceeds expectations. He doesn’t just give us a villain we love to hate; he gives us  a chilling arch-nemesis who is equal (and in some ways superior) to the hero.

The crux of the film’s success or failure—just like in 1978—rests on the lead. David Corenswet, like the character he portrays, makes the Herculean effort look effortless. His interpretation is instantly recognizable as “Superman,” but also more down-to-Earth in relatability. His Superman jokes, makes mistakes, gets frustrated, feels pain, loss, and (momentary) failure. But he also holds to his values, even when they work against his best interests or public approval. For this author, Christopher Reeve will always remain the benchmark. But for this generation, David Corenswet is Superman. By the end of this film, I challenge anyone to question the character’s relatability.

There are many honorable mentions, mostly from the "Justice Gang" members. After years of voicing Hal Jordan in animation, fan-favorite actor Nathan Fillion finally brings a Green Lantern to live action—in the form of Guy Gardner. His performance is amazing, bringing the politically incorrect, obnoxious Gardner of the comics to life in a way that somehow retains the character’s worst traits while adding the charm of that one uncle nobody talks about. That’s more Fillion’s natural charisma than anything else—and the film is better for it. I wish we could have gotten more out of Isabela Merced's Hawkgirl. The character is criminally underutilized, but the actress does make the most of what she's given. But given how, if you'll excuse the vernacular, badass the character is maybe in her case less WAS more.  I’ve never cared much for Mr. Terrific, but Edi Gathegi (Hoult’s X-Men: First Class (2011) co-star) delivers a revelatory performance. After being underutilized in X-Men, Gathegi’s Mr. Terrific is easily the second breakout character of the film. The first? You guessed it: the dog.

Krypto the Superdog.

Never would I have expected to see that character brought to life, straight, in live action. But Krypto steals the film—and does so in a way that never breaks immersion. He’s not anthropomorphized. He’s a dog. Super-powered—but still a dog.

If the film has one notable weakness, it’s surprisingly the score by John Murphy and David Fleming. Surprising, because Murphy specifically asked to use and adapt the iconic John Williams theme—the one as inextricably tied to the character as the James Bond theme is to 007. That inclusion works both for and against the film. The Williams theme provides emotional gravitas, but it also highlights how generic and hollow the rest of the score often feels. There are no strong, memorable motifs; the original compositions could belong to almost any action film. It’s only when the Williams theme emerges—either bombastically or subtly—that the film gains the sonic weight it needs. Overall, the score is serviceable, but underwhelming. 

But those are critical considerations. Personally? It’s a different story.

Despite the above analysis of the films score, it does sport one specific moment of acoustical brilliance. It starts of with the first five-notes ofWilliams fanfare in horns in classical original fashion, then seques into the rest of the theme in electric guitar. In this manner, Gunn's production declares its mission statement of honoring and respecting the history while reinterpreting and recontextualizing it for modern audiences. I'd be lying if I said a tear didn't roll down the cheek, as I never expected to hear those opening notes in such a fashion in a movie theater again.

"Superman", character and concept, is about hope. Not "hope" as in verbally stated or shouted at the audience—“This symbol stands for hope”—but inspired hope. Aspirational hope. Gunn’s film portrays a world in which hope exists despite modern cynicism. It's believable in its own world, even with the occasional leaps in logic and physics. Superman is an immersive and, most importantly, FUN film! It's a FUN film! Given the performances, it was obviously fun for the cast, and that infectiously translates to fun for the audience. 

In both word and action, this version of Superman offers a credible, compelling case that one man’s belief in doing the right thing—even now—can still matter.

For two-plus hours, despite myself, I was nine years old.

Superman made this aging critical cynic feel like a hopeful kid again.

And that’s the best recommendation I can give.