The Fantastic Four: First Steps review: Galactus arrives, the child brings mom back, and Marvel finally gets it right

Pedro Pascal and Vanessa Kirby bring gravitas and heartbreak to The Fantastic Four: First Steps, the MCU’s long-awaited debut of Marvel’s First Family. But beneath the spectacle of Galactus and the shimmer of cosmic storms, what anchors this Phase Six opener is something far more intimate: the terrifying, absurd, and sublime journey of new parenthood, when your child might just inherit the universe.

With Reed and Sue as its emotional axis, he Fantastic Four: First Steps reimagines the origins of the Fantastic Four through a multiversal lens, plunging Earth-828 into a galactic crisis that forces the team to fight not for survival, but for agency over their narrative.

In this timeline, Franklin Richards is more than a future powerhouse: he’s the present dilemma. And Galactus, voiced with chilling stillness by Ralph Ineson, arrives not as a conqueror but as a being ready to abdicate. That twist, surprisingly gentle in intention yet massive in consequence, reframes the usual “world-ending” threat into something both cosmic and parental: what do you do when a god wants your baby?

Galactus, the devourer and the desperate

It would be easy to reduce The Fantastic Four: First Steps to another “save the world” installment in Marvel’s multiversal avalanche. But the presence of Galactus reshapes the equation. Ralph Ineson’s interpretation isn’t a roaring tyrant; he’s a weary titan on the verge of collapse. What he asks of the Fantastic Four is not conquest; it’s abdication. He wants Franklin Richards to become his successor.

This offer injects the Fantastic Four movie with something rare in superhero cinema: an ethical crisis that feels both cosmic and personal. Hand over the baby and Earth is spared. Refuse, and the world burns. But whose world? The script leans hard into this moral ambiguity, even having characters outside the family question their decision. Are they being selfish? Or are they merely the first ones to say no to a system that demands sacrifice from the vulnerable?

The film doesn’t pretend there’s a noble answer. It lets the tension simmer. This is Star Trek territory, philosophically. The retrofuturism in Reed’s lab, the wormhole tech, the alliance with the Mole Man’s subterranean people, it’s all dressed in glossy Marvel visuals, but underneath, this is pulp ethics at its best. What does it mean to survive? Who gets to decide what’s fair?

The family fracture at the Baxter Building

When Galactus arrives in New York, the Baxter Building becomes ground zero for one of the MCU’s most overwhelming showdowns. The Fantastic Four try to execute their last-resort plan by luring Galactus into a teleporter and sending him to the edge of the universe, but he sees through the ruse, calling them “clever ants.”

What follows is destruction. The Thing is launched into space. The Human Torch is knocked aside without ceremony. Reed stretches himself to the limit trying to reach Franklin, only to watch Galactus take the child. For all their brilliance and bravery, they are reduced to fragments, scattered and powerless.

Sue Storm, moments earlier left unconscious in the Fantasticar, wakes up and sees her child in the arms of a cosmic predator. She reacts instantly. Her force fields hit Galactus with an intensity never seen before, driving him toward the teleporter. Reed begs her to stop, but she demands that he and the others rescue Franklin.

She holds nothing back. What she unleashes comes from love, rage, and absolute clarity.

The Silver Surfer and the echo of sacrifice

Galactus commands the screen. Not as a cartoonish monster, not as a clumsy CGI shape, but as a vast, terrifying presence that bends reality around him. He radiates scale, texture, and weight. The sky moves when he moves. The Baxter Building becomes a speck in his shadow. This is not a villain to punch. This is an event.

Sue Storm pushes him.

Her body cracks under the force, but she doesn’t flinch. Reed pleads with her. She doesn't answer. Her focus is total. She drives him into the teleporter with everything she has. And it works. Until it doesn’t.

Galactus begins to return.

Johnny prepares to burn out. He steps forward, fire building in his hands. But before he can act, the Silver Surfer returns. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t hesitate. She grabs him and pulls.

There is no triumph in that moment. Only silence.

Sue’s body lies still. Reed’s hands are shaking. The screen holds on her face, and nothing moves. Then Franklin crawls forward.

His fingers glow. His touch lands on her chest. Her eyes open.

Inside them, galaxies swirl.

A surprise wrapped in cosmic light

I didn’t expect to love The Fantastic Four: First Steps this much. I walked in with cautious optimism, hearing mixed reactions from early screenings, but the film won me over. What begins with a fast-paced glimpse at the team’s accomplishments soon finds its rhythm, slowing down just enough to make the stakes feel personal. And once it does, it builds toward something bold, something strange, something that feels like a love letter to sci-fi with soul.

There’s a Star Trek energy pulsing through this Fantastic Four movie, especially the Abrams-era kind, where ethical choices clash with scientific wonder. The bridge technology, the galactic diplomacy, even the Mole Man’s inclusion from the underground world, all of it carries that retrofuturistic gleam. The film knows how to dream in chrome and circuitry without ever losing its humanity.

Galactus never feels weightless or awkward. His design is majestic and intimidating. He towers over everything with scale, texture, and presence. The universe bends around him. When he asks for Franklin, the moment hits with full force. This isn’t just a show of force. This is a demand no parent should face. And when outsiders call Reed and Sue selfish, it stings. No one should be expected to sacrifice their child to save a planet. The film lets that dilemma exist without smoothing it over.

Visually, the movie stays grounded even in its most cosmic moments. The effects hold up across every plane and portal. Sue’s death lands with real impact. Her body lies still, her strength exhausted. When Franklin revives her, the glow in her eyes reflects something vast. It’s galaxies spinning behind her gaze. A quiet kind of magic that honors the cost.

The humor in this new iteration of The Fantastic Four is precise. The emotion stays sharp. And through it all, the story stays anchored in what matters. I would watch it again without hesitation. Marvel finally gave the Fantastic Four a story with vision, soul, and weight.

The future of the Fantastic Four is already in motion

The curtain never really comes down. Just as the family regroups and prepares to reappear on Ted Gilbert’s show, a new threat interrupts the calm. They run offstage with Franklin in their arms, fumbling with a car seat in the Fantasticar. It’s a rare moment of levity that works because it feels earned. They are still parents, still a team, still learning how to hold the galaxy and a baby at once.

But signs of fracture were always there. Early in the film, when world leaders gather to negotiate a global cosmic defense pact, the seat for Latveria remains conspicuously empty. The camera lingers just long enough. The silence surrounding it hums with menace. Doom was already watching. Already waiting.

The post-credits animated sequence might seem like a throwaway gag, with cartoon versions of the team battling classic villains and Ben Grimm shouting his catchphrase. But it matters. The in-universe cartoon freezes this version of the Fantastic Four in time, turning them into icons while their real lives keep moving forward. It's cheerful, meta, and quietly unnerving. When a family becomes a symbol, they stop belonging only to themselves.

There's no question anymore. Franklin Richards is a convergence point. And Doom knows it.

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Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5 unstable force fields.

Retro sci-fi with gravitas, glowing ethics, and a Galactus that finally lives up to the name. This is family-first storytelling at cosmic scale. The Fantastic Four finally have a movie that feels worthy of them.