Matt Shakman’s The Fantastic Four: First Steps kicks off with an urgency that leaves no room for warm-up laps. Much like the latest Superman reboot, this superhero film hurls viewers straight into the thick of the story, trusting them to swim instead of wade. There’s little time for prolonged exposition or gradual world-building. Instead, a clever film-within-a-film segment offers a brisk recap of how four space explorers were transformed into Marvel’s pioneering superheroes after being exposed to cosmic radiation.
This quick refresher introduces us to the central quartet: Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), also known as the elastic genius Mr. Fantastic; his wife, Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), who can turn invisible; her fiery younger brother Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn), who blazes as The Human Torch; and Reed’s loyal friend Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), now the hulking, rock-skinned Thing. Though helpful, this background sequence is merely a life vest—the real immersion comes as the film unfolds with the expectation that audiences will keep up, learn by watching, and get swept into the richly realized world of Earth 828.
This alternate Earth—separate from the mainstream Marvel Cinematic Universe—gives the film’s creative team immense freedom, and they use it to brilliant effect. The film’s look and feel are so spellbinding that even if its narrative were merely average, the visual experience alone would be worth the price of admission. Thankfully, First Steps is much more than just eye candy. It delivers a nuanced, emotionally resonant, and visually distinctive superhero tale that’s likely to satisfy genre fans while offering fresh pleasures for more discerning viewers.
A Cosmic Premise with Emotional Weight
If you’re trying to avoid plot details, consider this a polite spoiler alert. In brief: The Fantastic Four: First Steps is a compelling and occasionally transcendent comic book adaptation. It delivers the high-stakes action and intergalactic scale expected from Marvel, but also incorporates grounded emotional drama and character dynamics rarely seen in superhero movies. Yes, it boasts galactic showdowns and dazzling set pieces. But what makes it special is the humanity at its core.
The story opens with a deeply personal moment: Sue revealing to Reed that she’s pregnant. What should be a joyous milestone quickly turns ominous with the arrival of a cosmic figure—the Silver Surfer, portrayed with icy magnetism by Julia Garner. She storms into New York City, announcing herself as the “Herald of Galactus.” Her mission: find suitable worlds for her master, a cosmic devourer, to consume.
Galactus, voiced and motion-captured by Ralph Ineson, is no ordinary villain. He doesn’t want to enslave Earth. He wants to eat it—literally. He travels the universe aboard a colossal world-eating machine, feeding on planets to quell an endless, gnawing hunger. But this time, he makes a harrowing offer to our heroes: spare Earth in exchange for their unborn child.
It’s a proposition that upends the very notion of heroism. Galactus doesn’t just want to devour. He wants to end his existence by passing the torch—or rather, uploading his essence—into the superpowered baby. The child, says Galactus, is strong enough to become his successor. The offer plunges Reed and Sue into an impossible moral crisis and forces them to confront humanity’s most ancient and haunting myth—the sacrificial parent.
The biblical overtones are unmistakable. This is Abraham and Isaac by way of Kirby and cosmic science fiction. And the emotional weight is palpable. Reed and Sue must decide whether to defy a godlike being or surrender their future. What begins as a space opera evolves into an emotionally wrenching drama that asks what it truly means to be a parent, a protector, and a hero.
Theatrical Sensibility and Grounded Performances
Credit for this tonal balance goes to director Matt Shakman, whose background spans prestige television and theater. Known for helming WandaVision and directing plays for L.A.’s Geffen Playhouse, Shakman brings a rare sensitivity to character and performance. Unlike many superhero films that rely on quips, brooding, or exposition dumps, First Steps leans into lived-in emotion and interpersonal dynamics. The characters feel like real people, not archetypes.
Pascal’s take on Reed Richards is fascinating. Best known for his empathetic heroism in The Mandalorian and The Last of Us, Pascal plays against type as a cerebral, slightly aloof man of science. Reed is a brilliant inventor and leader, but often struggles with emotional intimacy. Pascal and Kirby, whose Sue Storm is at once nurturing and fiercely determined, share a chemistry that anchors the film. Their performances make the stakes feel immediate, their grief and fear deeply relatable.
The film’s middle act is an extended negotiation with fate, as the Four attempt to outwit Galactus and prevent the impossible bargain. Every plan fails. Every hopeful moment curdles into dread. And with each failure, Reed and Sue grow more human—frustrated, desperate, defiant. The result is a narrative that feels both mythic and intimate.
Supporting Heroes Deserve More Time
If the film has a structural flaw, it’s that it occasionally sacrifices character development at the altar of pacing. The editing is brisk—sometimes too brisk—and we don’t spend as much time as we’d like with Johnny and Ben.
Even so, Joseph Quinn makes an impression as Johnny Storm. His performance adds layers to a character often dismissed as cocky and reckless. This Johnny is insecure, eager to prove himself, and more intelligent than people assume. His fiery powers mirror his emotional volatility, and Quinn captures this with nuance.
Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm is another standout, despite limited screen time. The character’s subplot—a tender romance with schoolteacher Rachel Rozman (Natasha Lyonne)—feels like it’s pulled from a different genre, one that’s grounded in the real world. Their dynamic has echoes of Marty, On the Waterfront, and Rocky. It’s a beautiful counterpoint to the film’s cosmic stakes, and you may find yourself wishing for a spinoff focusing just on them.
Even Galactus gets moments of introspection. When he finally arrives on Earth, he pauses to scoop up soil, sniffing it like a sommelier evaluating a fine wine. It’s a strange, poetic image—one that suggests even godlike beings can experience weariness and longing. He’s more than a force of nature; he’s a creature of tragic appetite.
Earth 828: A Universe of Detail and Delight
One of the film’s most impressive feats is its world-building. Earth 828 is unlike any Marvel setting we’ve seen, and the production design deserves special recognition. Kasra Farahani, whose work on Loki established a retro-futurist aesthetic, outdoes himself here.
Rather than aiming for sleek modernity or dystopia, First Steps mixes mid-century styles from the 1940s to the 1970s, stirring in vintage sci-fi elements and whimsical tech. Imagine flying cars from The Jetsons, vacuum-tube computers from your high school AV club, and robot butlers like the adorable H.E.R.B.I.E. This aesthetic blend creates a lived-in, alternative history where technology evolved sideways.
The details are so rich you’ll wish for a pause button: Pan Am still flies, Canada Dry and Yoo-Hoo dominate vending machines, and CRT televisions remain the standard. Meanwhile, fictional movies like Sunrise in Minsk and Track of the Fungi populate the cultural landscape. It’s all gloriously textured, like wandering through a dream version of the 20th century.
By setting the story on Earth 828, the filmmakers liberate themselves from the sprawling and often constraining continuity of the larger MCU. No need for cameos, Easter eggs, or setup for future Avengers entries. The film can breathe, take risks, and tell a self-contained story.
The Shadow of “The Incredibles”
One unavoidable comparison lingers over First Steps, though: Brad Bird’s The Incredibles. That Pixar classic essentially beat Marvel to the punch, delivering a story of a super-powered family grappling with identity, responsibility, and an adorable, overpowered baby. First Steps shares a lot of those same beats, from its retro-futurist design to its emphasis on familial bonds.
Even Michael Giacchino—composer for both franchises—returns here, though his score avoids the jazzy James Bond feel of Bird’s films. Instead, we get something moodier, more orchestral, and surprisingly experimental, with vocal elements adding punch. It may not reach the iconic heights of The Incredibles soundtrack, but it complements the film’s tone perfectly.
Still, it’s worth remembering that Fantastic Four came first. The comic series launched in 1961, when atomic-age optimism clashed with Cold War dread. Jack Kirby’s original vision—a mix of wonder, family tension, and cosmic weirdness—was a blueprint for generations of superhero storytelling. The Incredibles borrowed that DNA; now, First Steps reclaims it.
Final Thoughts: A Welcome Reinvention
The Fantastic Four: First Steps isn’t flawless. It moves at such a relentless pace that it occasionally skims over character arcs and narrative transitions. It’s not likely to dethrone the most beloved superhero films of the last decade. But it doesn’t have to.
What this film does—beautifully—is revitalize a franchise that has struggled for decades to find its footing. It avoids the cynicism of some modern superhero fare, as well as the chaotic excess that often plagues big-budget blockbusters. Instead, it offers sincerity, style, and stakes that feel earned.
By focusing on character relationships, moral dilemmas, and immersive world-building, Matt Shakman and his team give the Fantastic Four a fresh start worthy of their name. Whether you’re a longtime fan of Marvel’s first family or a newcomer, First Steps is a promising beginning—and a reminder of just how fantastic this team can be when given the right story to tell.
