The nerd teenager Reed Richards has been researching teleport since he was a kid, helped by his best friend Ben Grimm.. During a high-school scientific fair, he is invited by Dr. Franklin Storm to join his research team in his institute in New York. Reed teams up with Dr. Storm's son and daughter Johnny Storm and Susan "Sue" Storm and the outcast Victor Von Doom and they succeed to send a monkey to another dimension. Soon they learn that the institute has an agreement with NASA to send astronauts to the other universe. However they decide to go by themselves to be the first humans to reach the place. However there is an accident and they are all affected by the power in the planet. Further, they achieve super-powers, but Victor is left behind. What will happen to the researchers?
Four young outsiders teleport to an alternate and dangerous universe which alters their physical form in shocking ways. The four must learn to harness their new abilities and work together to save Earth from a former friend turned enemy.
It's bad really really bad the acting is too emotionless, the thematic running time they just got it all wrong, and heck most of the exciting cool action stuff is only done in 1 freaking minute and to make things more worse they always keep talking in dark rooms they have really poor grasp on the source material like how doctor doom have super powers even though in the comics he only uses his own intellect brain. The other Fantastic four movies failed too but at least it fail of what the comic books made them so special it's really a huge shame when it doesn't have anything to do with the comic books in general and when you add it all up the Hammer head film is the only one where they choose to fight crime *AND* not cause the destruction and chaos along the way HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN HOW THIS IN 2 REBOOTS YOU TRIED TO MAKE IT BETTER!?! All I could say is that there's a good way and a wrong way to ever reboot a famous franchise and this is definitely the wrong way. P.S It was made by the people who made awesome X men films how could they muck it up!?!
It&#39;s uncanny to see cinematic legend unfolding on screen - a film to be talked about in hushed tones for decades to come. August 2015 has yielded such a film. Ladies, gentlemen, and puddles of sentient ooze, behold: the legendary disaster of Josh Trank&#39;s Fantastic Four. <br/><br/>Miserable set stories, drab trailers and re-shoots aside, it&#39;s still shocking how bad the final film is. While Tim Story&#39;s mid-2000s predecessors were cringeworthy in their own regard, their bubblegum-bright flair for fun made them hard to outright detest – a quality Trank appears determined to eradicate from his reboot at all costs. Indeed, Trank hammers the &quot;dark &#39;n gritty&quot; angle so fiercely that between the unimaginatively muddy visuals (Earth and the craggy alternate-dimension-or-is-it-an-alien- planet-the-film-never-quite-makes-up-its-mind are so universally dank the film may as well have been called &#39;50 Shades of Brown&#39;) and venomous script, the only &#39;fantastic&#39; thing is how all-around unpleasant a viewing experience the film is. Dark superhero reboots may be in vogue, but don&#39;t be surprised to see a Rennaissance of candy-colours and one-liners in future super-fare, if only to bury the memory of this dull sulkfest. <br/><br/>Most comparably abysmal sci-fi flops are at least hammy enough to enjoyably mock their nonsensical plotting, hokey dialogue, stilted performances, and terrible visual effects. Fantastic Four has all of these detriments in spades, but, practically frothing at the mouth with the bitter &#39;Trank vs. Fox&#39; spat, is too sour to even gleefully lambast. The film is so unapologetically lazy, with brazen continuity errors, scathingly brief and sparse action sequences, and childish temporal leaps to cover up patches never filmed, that it reeks of self-loathing, almost fiercely proud of how disastrous it is. It gets to the point where the audience starts desperately trying to spoon-feed worthwhile moments to the film out of secondhand embarrassment (&quot;that 15 second fight scene was kind of cool!&quot; &quot;Reed Richards disguising himself by stretching his face is clever!&quot; &quot;That Borat joke was almost funny…&quot;) before giving up and succumbing to the unrelenting cascade of awfulness. <br/><br/>Beginning with an insultingly distasteful prologue exploiting domestic abuse (Trank is so determined to squash fun that even the ever-lovin&#39;-blue-eyed Thing&#39;s iconic catchphrase gets sullied), and starring Homer Simpson (no really) as cinema&#39;s most discouraging science teacher, the film flashes forward to the serious teen scientists working on their serious science experiment seriously. After an excruciating montage of the universally dislikeable characters welding, trading inane pseudo-science babble, and gritting their teeth and grimacing in a facsimile of &quot;bonding&quot;, a despicably forced drunken (really…?) foray to the alternate-dimension-planet-whatever has the team (sans Sue, because only men have adventures, apparently) mutated by green alien glop (really…) in a boring Interstellar rip-off. There seems to be no hope. <br/><br/>However, at this point, the film momentarily twitches, like a convulsing, electrified dead frog, and briefly shakes off its monotonous woe. The visual effects introducing the titular quartet first experiencing their powers are effective - Richards&#39; grotesque elasticity is particularly believable - briefly delivering the body horror the film seemed desperate to become. GOOD LORD A POSITIVE OH THANK YOU. <br/><br/>Naturally, for this indulgence, Trank subjects audiences to a further half hour of clichéd droning about how serious the serious quartet&#39;s serious accident was (seriously!), unoriginally lambasting the mean ol&#39; exploitative military as if spitefully stalling. Rubbing salt in the wound, Trank showcases some decently exciting Thing action sequences, but sadistically restricts them to extreme long-shot blips seen through television screens. Finally: a pre-climax re-introducing the forgotten Victor Domashev-wait-Von-Doom-sorry-who-said-that. Here, in spite of hilariously rocky plotting and characterization, Trank momentarily invests, with an astoundingly gory telekinetic massacre that momentarily flirts with a promising climax to come. <br/><br/>Nope.<br/><br/>Instead, the film reaches a new low, with a climactic tussle on Doom&#39;s planet-dimension-who-cares almost as difficult to see amidst the feces-filter as it is uninspired (each character gives and takes a punch, as if choreographed by a preschooler). If this wasn&#39;t enough, the entire affair wraps up in a staggeringly quick 12 minutes, vomiting a final coda so chirpy and upbeat it&#39;s disturbingly at odds with the dour mess preceding it. We conclude with arguably the most forced, awkward title drop in cinematic history. Nice. <br/><br/>The woefully miscast performers all somehow manage make the dire script even more banal. Unsurprisingly, despite being the most (needlessly) controversially cast, Michael B. Jordan is the only actor to generate anything of worth, with a cocky charisma that feels vintage Johnny Storm. Sadly, even he sputters under the indefatigable weight of the dross surrounding him. Miles Teller is so unimaginably flat as Reed Richards that it would be hilarious if his preening smugness weren&#39;t so loathsome instead. Kate Mara fares no better, her Sue Storm so pinched and bitter that the alien green glob is more engaging to watch. The most disturbingly miscast, Jamie Bell may as well have signed on as the Invisible Woman he is given so little screen time. Even when coated in horrifically bad CGI, Bell&#39;s perennially moping (and, distressingly, naked, rock-genitalia included) Ben Grimm spends more time sitting sadly in cells than clobberin&#39;. The film&#39;s low point (impressive indeed…) is Toby Kebbell, who embarrassingly transforms one of the most iconically menacing comic book antagonists into a squeaking, whiny, walking temper tantrum. Meanwhile, Tim Blake Nelson snores through his scenes as the requisite exploitative bureaucrat (so much for him playing Mole Man…), while Reg E. Cathy drones the same banal line about discovery and possibility repeatedly as if sleep-talking. <br/><br/>The real Trainwreck of 2015 (sorry Amy Schumer), and almost irrefutable champion of &quot;worst, most unreservedly self-loathing big-budget studio film ever made&quot;, Josh Trank&#39;s reluctant blockbuster is indisputably unforgettable…albeit for all the wrong reasons. As Ben Grimm would dolefully sigh: &quot;It&#39;s Fantastic&quot;. <br/><br/>-1/10
A sense of heaviness, gloom and complete disappointment settles in during the second half, as the mundane set-up results in no dramatic or sensory dividends whatsoever.
No.
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