Fantastic Four (2015)

The question one can’t help but return to again and again during Josh Trank’s Fantastic Four reboot is “Who was this supposed to appeal to?”
The multiplex masses who have so greedily gobbled down each release in the Marvel Cinematic Universe? They won’t able to tolerate the grindingly slow progression and lack of vitality in Trank’s Fantastic Four.
The more cerebral film fan who’s been waiting for a mature or grounded take on the superhero mythos to come along? It’s far too stupid for them, and you’re certainly not going to get that segment into the theater with TV trailers highlighting action scenes that don’t even appear in the finished product, set to Kanye West’s “Power,” the single most done-to-death trailer song of the last three years.
Comic book devotees? This film doesn’t even seem to be aware that it’s based on an iconic Marvel property. If anything, comic fans will hate this Fantastic Four even more than the previous two segments. So who? I honestly can’t imagine who the consumer is supposed to be.
The fact that 20th Century Fox attempted to hold all press screenings and reviews until the last possible second wasn’t a good sign, but it also wasn’t a death sentence. What is a death sentence is a film that lazily meanders through endless exposition and pseudo science montages, spending almost its entire run in a series of hallways and featureless concrete slabs. The eye barely knows where to look, not because there’s too much to look at but because there’s nothing to be seen.
I’ve never seen a film combine the following elements in this way: Deadly seriousness, idiotic characters, pulpy situations. They don’t seem like they could possibly all take place in the same film, and yet they do. The movie takes itself so, so seriously—it feels like a funerary march should be playing in place of a soundtrack—while simultaneously featuring characters so stupid that they’re making the types of decisions one would expect from scientists in ’50s-era creature features. This Fantastic Four really wants to be taken seriously for its attempts to highlight the “people behind the characters,” but they’re all so laughably dumb that it’s impossible to do so.
There has never been a depiction of Reed Richards less intelligent than this Reed Richards. This is a Reed Richards who decides to take a billion-dollar device into another dimension with a childhood friend who knows nothing about science, confident that nothing will go wrong because they tested it an hour earlier with a chimp who hasn’t died just yet. Seems reasonable! Also in the party: Apparently evil mastermind Victor Von Doom, who looks like he just arrived from a nightclub down the street and makes the executive decision to plunge his hand into a pool of pulsing, glowing green goop. On an alien world. In another dimension. Without hesitation. This genius scientific mind just sees a pulsing green blob and thinks “I wonder what would happen if I jammed my arm way in there?” This is like behavior we would laugh at on Tosh.0, and should be accompanied with a “Hold my beer while I try this!”
This Fantastic Four dawdles in a way that no superhero film has for quite a while, which would be fine if the endless build-up was giving us anything about the characters that we could use. Ultimately, though, only Miles Teller as Reed gets any true characterization. Ben (Jamie Bell) is a tagalong friend with no useful skills or reason to even be present on the scene. Sue Storm (Kate Mara) is resourceful but ultimately just a victim of circumstance who is rendered moot by film’s end. Johnny Storm (Michael B. Jordan) doesn’t even mind the transformation into the Human Torch, and seems perfectly happy to serve as a military weapon in Third World countries.