The Guardians of the Galaxy films, about an adopted family getting through sticky situations with club-footed grace, have largely felt like a reprieve from the expansive form of intertextuality that marks much of the banally self-reflexive titles in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In that regard, James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is cozily familiar, employing big action pieces in the context of a story that hinges on the Guardians trying to save Rocket (Bradley Cooper) from almost certain death. But that simplicity of scope makes it even harder to understand how the film ends with a runtime of two and half hours, undermining its initial sense of intimacy and momentum with a stop-and-start story structure that by and large exists to make as much room as possible for its characters’ banter.
The film begins on Knowhere, the floating, severed head of a Celestial that the Guardians have been using as their base of operations since we last saw them in Avengers: Endgame. After an attack from the seemingly indestructible Warlock (Will Poulter) leaves Rocket in critical condition, drunken hangdog Quill (Chris Pratt) assembles his crew to discover the origins of their raccoon best friend in order to get him the life-saving care that he needs.
On the way, the Guardians reunite with a still-amnesia-ridden Gamora (Zoe Saldana), who’s joined the ranks of the Ravagers under the leadership of Stakar Ogord (Sylvester Stallone). The crew must infiltrate a massive space entity that houses a cult-like corporation under the leadership of the High Evolutionary (played with scenery-chewing aplomb by Chukwudi Iwuji), who has been conducting tests on various species with the Moonraker-esque ambition of building a perfect society. Turns out, Rocket was once one of his experiments.
At times, Vol. 3 can be unsettling, and not because it’s the first MCU film to drop the F-bomb. Rather, the main plotline is intercut with flashbacks to Rocket’s childhood and later confinement, and the latter abound in intense depictions of animal torture. But while the A plot mostly moves swiftly, this B plot, set in the High Evolutionary’s grimy chamber of horrors, results in a tonal mismatch. Gunn never completely successfully marries the brutal depiction of animals with robotic limbs used as weapons to the cheery tune of the main plot. Even in the context of the High Evolutionary’s world, it’s hard to know what to take seriously, especially given that Poulter plays Warlock with the same energy of his clueless teen in We’re the Millers.
Gunn is unapologetic about crafting the film as a theme park ride—sorry Martin Scorsese—at times delightfully springing set pieces shot from the point of view of the characters. This Guardians of the Galaxy certainly has a frenetic pace, and like it’s two predecessors, the film is refreshing in the context of its own cinematic universe. Though it references a couple jokes and a plot point from last year’s The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special, it doesn’t concern itself too much with having audiences hunt for cleverly concealed Easter eggs. We’re in the realm of the familiar here, riding along with a chummy crew on an easy-to-understand mission, and at its best, the film warmly recalls the original Star Trek series, a feeling that’s further enhanced by several sets that are very much inspired by the aesthetic of that sci-fi classic.
But as in the first two films, you have to be willing to take the good with the bad. There are head-bopping needle drops, and Dave Bautista, as Drax, is as deliriously charming as ever, but Pratt’s Quill, with his propensity for looking like a deer in headlights and comfortable in his role as a quip-delivery machine, remains nothing if not an acquired taste. It also doesn’t help that the film doesn’t lack for side characters with no real purpose, and that it never effectively balances its weightier subject matter with its desire to be a fun ride for audiences of all ages.
Vol. 3 is an allegory about fathers and sons, families both biological and adopted, and the life-saving possibilities of good friendship. But that’s nothing new, neither for the MCU nor for this sub-franchise. For some, being wrapped in that blanket of familiarity will be enough, but others may be left wanting for more of that jolt of energy that Iwuji’s performance brings to the proceedings—if only to distract us from the fact that Vol. 3 exists largely to be replaced by the next shiny thing in a seemingly endless conveyor belt of movies and TV shows.
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