The FANTASTIC FOUR: FIRST STEPS (2025) Take
A Fantastic Four film? What will they think of next? A Fantastic FIVE film? The HUMBLE YOURSELF BEFORE COMICS take, PLUS: fancy premium comics, and the week's hottest stragglers!
You can’t be cynical about the Fantastic Four, unless of course you want to be cynical about joy, intellect, romance, and all the things that separate us from dogs. The facts as we know them go thusly: in 1961, Jack Kirby created the world’s greatest comic magazine, inventing the whole form of modern comics one adventure at a time, in which four heroes, as flawed and as human as any of us in spite of garish and colorful powers, fought impossible villains with even more impossible science. Stan Lee was also there. It was incredible, and it was beautiful, and it has kept on going since then because it’s really really good.
And yet, as soon as the Marvel Studios logo, given the Saul Bassian flair and idealistic design its comics counterpart never had at the time, fades out and gives way to the main attraction, the film invites cynicism, in the form of a caption reading “Earth-828”, a grim reminder that this is but a chapter in the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Multiverse Saga, not the beginning of something new but instead just another on-ramp to the same endless highway, existing in the context of two seasons of a surprisingly good television show, the worst Ant-Man film, and a Deadpool vehicle that’s mostly callbacks to even older films. It is so desperate to make you commit to more films and more shows that it’s willing to rob its lingering shots of signs that read “Latveria” near empty seats of their subtext and intertextuality by outright telling you that “The Fantastic Four will return in AVENGERS: DOOMSDAY”.
You could, on that basis alone, disqualify it and get on with your day. I’ve never been one to refuse an invitation so eagerly given, however, so let’s get cynical about it. As was the case with his work on Wandavision, Matt Shakman proves himself to be an able mimic, and the film’s first act, a recounting of the Fantastic Four’s many exploits, delivers on the promise of futurist Space Age Americana with such quantity and at such speed that it made me genuinely emotional. It has an incredible sense of adventure, hopefulness and retro charm. And sure, anyone can rip off the Ed Sullivan Show and make it look good, but would they have the flair to put the music from the Tomorrowland Peoplemover in there? No, and I think this is to their detriment. It is a lot of very neat tricks in a short amount of time. It is so neat, in fact, that you might not even notice how long it takes for the plot to start.
It shows up, eventually, but it brings with it a parade of uncanny and seemingly rushed CGI, led, as these things always are, by the arrival of the Silver Surfer. This is when the film’s sense of being lived in, already stretched thin by some odd-looking scenes of The Thing, reaches its breaking point. Jack Kirby’s version of that story (the film’s obvious sources being the Galactus trilogy and the one annual chronicling the birth of Franklin Richards, but there are gestures at the Hickman era in there) involved things so far beyond the comics’ world he had to push himself creatively and technically, using collage and impossible shapes to make things look as alien as they were supposed to be. First Steps, despite its visual gambits drawing from sources as diverse as Interstellar, the Thunderbirds and Godzilla, never stops feeling like a Marvel film.
And this is all a real shame, because I like some of the ideas in there. Having followed the Silver Surfer through a trail of cosmic destruction across space, our heroes find themselves across from the big man Galactus himself, dressed in its over-detailed Death Star best and lit like he was hiding a full nest of Xenomorphs. He is a 70s sci-fi being invading the idyllic 60s. His coming, and what comes of it, unleashes turmoil, individualism, and social unrest. It’s not a particularly new idea, America can’t stop making media about the supposed loss of its supposed innocence, but it’s a good driver for conflict, and it gets us Paul Walter Hauser as a Mole Man turned union leader turned statesman, which is a great deal of fun. The film can’t do much with these ideas, however, and it very quickly drops them before it could even begin any sort of examination, solving all of its societal issues in one speech given at the foot of the Baxter Building.
And here’s the thing: I would understand these decisions for a film that was heavier on the action, but until its finale, this is a problem-solving character-based drama through and through. Carrying the latter part of that proposal are four pitch-perfect performances. Pedro Pascal delivers a Reed Richards always spinning several plates in his head until he can’t because something overwhelming just happened. Vanessa Kirby gives Susan Storm an undercurrent of absolute confidence against which events conspire in a really interesting way. Joseph Quinn is the perfect Jack Kirby sidekick, funny, kind and curious in equal measure, with an extra serving of romanticism that, as it should, does a great deal to save the day. And obviously, Ebon Moss-Bachrach kills it as Ben Grimm, despite everything, tapping into the energy of a best friend that nothing ever gets past.
The problem, really, is that the film feels more dangerous in its middle than at its climax. Issues are resolved in a matter of moments, just through making the right phone call to the right person, and everything goes well until the divine intervention of its near-divine antagonists. What follows is an underwhelming action scene, barely making use of the strangeness of its heroes’ abilities. When everything returns to normal at the film’s end, it feels less like a circle being closed, and more like a way to make sure you don’t have much to keep track of by the time Doomsday rolls around.
Where does that leave us? Here’s the take: Fantastic Four: First Steps is the best Fantastic Four film, by default. I think that nearly every single Fantastic Four comic ever released is better than it. Probably not the Dan Slott run, let’s be honest with ourselves here, but like, the Fraction and Kesel run? Yeah I’d say it’s better. THREE OUT OF FIVE.
You’re reading HUMBLE YOURSELF BEFORE COMICS, a newsletter about comics that is just too smart and too well-liked to win the Will Eisner Spirit Of Comics Retailer Award at this year’s Eisners. I really thought I had it in the bag too, I kept being petty, small and ill-informed, and thoughtless in all the ways that matters, but I guess that doesn’t count for much if you don’t own a comic book shop or endorse Franquism, huh. Well there’s always next year.
As any long-time subscriber will attest to, I’ve made fun of BAD IDEA for several years now, because of their initial business model of making and releasing comics that no one could buy or read. I thought it was stupid then, and I think it’s stupid now, and no amount of elaborate stunts meant to parody the culture of comic book collecting or high-profile crowdfunding campaigns could change any of that. I need to get through this bit of disclosure now, dear reader, because it finally happened to me: I bought a BAD IDEA comic. It’s called PLANET DEATH #1, BAD IDEA claims that across its first two printings it’s the single biggest selling single issue of an independent comic of all time, and I’m asking you right now to ponder for a moment whether it’s funnier if the comic lives up to its hype or whether it’s funnier if it doesn’t.
How do you sell six hundred and fifty-five thousand comic? You do whatever it is that you have to do. Big Hollywood name on the cover? How about Derek Kolstad, co-creator of John Wick, and screenwriter of the first three films in the series? Not enough for you? Let’s have two writers then! Get Robert Venditti in there, he’s done some hit comics, including Green Lantern and that first relaunch of X-O Manowar at the then-reborn Valiant! Speaking of, books need artists, right? Tomás Giorello can do big and brutal, and people always love a big and brutal comic, it’s kind of a no-brainer. On colors? Dean gosh-darn White, how about it? It’s going to be an epic hand-painted eye-popper, don’t you worry.
But that’s not gonna be enough in a market that hardly reads comics, much less credit pages of comics, so let’s add elements that are guaranteed to hit because they’ve already hit before, for instance: what if we had Space Marines? I’m talking big beefy mass-produced super-soldiers the size and shape of a van, clad in power armor and with a mission to destroy the scariest alien horde you could imagine? What if one lone soldier survived the initial assault, and found himself stranded behind enemy lines, with nothing but the mission he has to accomplish and the thoughts of the home he promised to come back to. And what it was big? And what if it was loud?
It should not surprise you that a comic called “Planet Death” has one and only one gambit, and it should not surprise you that this gambit is just to have more shock and more awe on any one of its tastefully glossy, appropriately thick premium quality pages. Nothing much should surprise you about this comic; it’s a precision-engineered global mega-hit with easy potential to be turned into a four-quadrant Hollywood blockbuster with franchise opportunity. I don’t usually do speculation in this, but like, we know the guy’s memories of his families are implanted, right? That’s your big going-into-your-final-act reveal? I’m not usually this confident, but, come on now.
Did I have a bad time reading this comic? Hell no! It has some of the coolest pictures I’ve seen in a comic all year. Would I trade two containers of it for this regular bottle of Rogue Trooper? In a heartbeat.
So the plan was, I’d tell you about The War #1, a powerfully depressing comic by Becky Cloonan and Garth Ennis about people trying to live their lives when one of the world-famous current ongoing conflicts involving some manner of nuclear power turns into people experiencing mass death at a distance, as a prelude to something far worse. It’s all terribly plausible, and it’s all terrifyingly human, and it’s an obviously great comic executed at the highest possible levels of the craft, and I was going to tell you not to read it. It will genuinely ruin your day, it will make you live in fear of your loved ones dying, and it will make you feel profoundly powerless. If you were going to read it, I would at least advise you do it after the rest of your day’s obligations are done, just so you don’t go carrying it with you. Well anyway. I was going to do that, but as it turns out BOOM! are just collecting and reprinting material already published in Hello Darkness, so, in the interest of keeping this newsletter timely, we’re not going to talk about it! Aren’t you glad?
Still; there’s a review-shaped hole in this part of the newsletter, and I figure it’s worth filling with things worth checking out. Like, have you read that Nightwing 2025 Annual? That thing is great! It’s this very Morrisonian alternate history of comics, think Flex Mentallo or The Invisibles at their most transparently didactic and ever-so-slightly satirical, given the genre thrills of superhero neo-noir under the ever-appropriate lines of Francesco Francavilla, and if you wonder how that might all fit in with Nightwing, guess what? Dan Watters also has an answer for that one that makes everything feel as if it had always been meant to be! We often forget that comics can be this smart all the time, but they can! And this is!
Finally: boy, G.O.D.S.: One World Under Doom #1 huh, swing and a miss, right? It’s strange enough that Ryan North would attempt to revive a comic that people loudly and clearly said “no” to because who the hell is going to buy a $10 comic starring a cast of total unknowns, no matter how good. It’s stranger still how completely he biffs it. This is the kind of comic you write when all you have to go on are covers. The scale is all wrong; stopping demons from eating the Sun from the inside out feels boring and pedestrian when compared to the secret edges of reality that only exist in dreams. The tone is wrong, trading Hickman’s trademark “cool riddles” mode of dialogue for generic statements of motivation. But worse of all, where’s the romance? There’s no raw bleeding humanity in any of this. And it’s not like North can’t do it! His Fantastic Four remains very good! I just don’t know why this tie-in exists, it’s pointless in all ways and it makes me feel bad. So there. Now I don’t wanna talk about comics anymore.
Hoping we’re still on for lunch,
HUMBLE YOURSELF BEFORE COMICS