We remember a time when these movies used to matter – so, too, does this bumpy yet not entirely useless endeavour from -Robot & Frank director Jake Schreier. Indeed, Schreier’s film is so heavily indebted to previous Marvel episodes, you half expect Florence Pugh – player of the match, obviously – to break the fourth wall so she can explain everything to the newcomers. Pugh enjoyed a supporting stint opposite Scarlett Johansson in 2021’s Black Widow. Here, the accomplished Oxfordshire talent enjoys an expanded role in a film that occasionally struggles to stand on its own two feet. Confident and charismatic, it’s Pugh’s presence – her ability to make sense of a noisy cartoonish landscape where the good guys talk too much and the bad guys never fulfil their promise of -destroying the world – that elevates Thunderbolts* from -mediocre Marvel tosh to tolerable blockbuster entertainment. Nobody is too good to play a superhero, but Pugh is in another league here, and you would -almost – almost – forgive her dodgy Russian accent. Schreier and his writers, Eric Pearson and Joanna Calo, set up their stall in a world where -American politicians no longer trust champions in capes. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (a perfectly cast Julia Louis--Dreyfus), a CIA director with ulterior motives, is in big trouble with the major players. An impeachment hearing is under way – the Marvel enthusiast in your life will explain why – which means Valentina is eager to destroy all evidence of superhero-related wrongdoing. Burn the super--human trial papers; bury the sinister lab tests; terminate all living loose ends, that sort of thing. Yelena Belova (Pugh), a deadly Russian spy with a clouded conscience, is one such loose end. Imagine her surprise, then, when Valentina tricks this world-class assassin into signing up for a group suicide mission. Obviously, Yelena and the other Marvel rejects (Wyatt Russell’s John Walker, Hannah John-Kamen’s Ghost) make it out alive. The big surprise, however, is Lewis Pullman’s Bob, a socially awkward civilian who was never meant to be part of the equation. Who the heck is Bob, and does he have any superpowers to speak of? That would be telling. Later, your least favourite -Marvel characters invite others along for the ride. See Sebastian Stan’s Bucky Barnes, for instance, and David Harbour’s Red Guardian. Oh, and Yelena names the group Thunderbolts, after her childhood soccer team. But nobody ever explains why the title comes with an asterisk. Stan and his cast mates recently compared this crowded superhero mash-up to John Hughes’ seminal 1980s teen classic The Breakfast Club. You can see where they’re coming from. An overactive second half inevitably gives way to the usual -Marvel problems (gloopy CGI threats; confusing exposition; -ineffective villains, and so on). But for most of its first half, Thunderbolts* is, essentially, a film about a ragtag crew of quarrelling misfits who have no choice but to get along if they are to survive their deadly superhero detention. Call it a stretch, call it what you like, but that’s the best bit of the whole film. The dialogue doesn’t quite snap, crackle and pop the way it should, but the -sarky -set-up nonetheless holds our attention. Thunderbolts* is less po-faced than Marvel’s Eternals, less childish than DC’s Suicide Squad. The action is neater and easier to digest. True, the story needs work – too many third-act knots spoil the mood – and some of our performers are on different pages. Nobody could accuse Harbour of phoning it in. Shouty and excitable throughout, he’s clearly enjoying himself as the group’s eager, enthusiastic patriarch. Stan, on the other hand, appears disinterested, and it looks as if the actor has finally outgrown this rowdy superhero business. It’s up to Pugh (great with action, handy with comedy) and Louis-Dreyfus (always a winner) to keep the car running. The former is especially good at mining drama from a story that doesn’t always stay inside the lines. Not the best Marvel outing, but far from the worst. Three stars