The Marvels is, somehow, the 33rd movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’s a direct sequel to one movie (Captain Marvel) and two different TV shows (WandaVision and Ms. Marvel). It features a substantial supporting role for Nick Fury, who’s coming in hot from the Skrull uprising in Secret Invasion this past summer.
Almost none of that matters, though. WandaVision and Ms. Marvel are only relevant in that those shows are where two of the three titular Marvels got their powers–the specifics aren’t important at all and are never referenced–and Secret Invasion is never alluded to even in a veiled way. And all you need to know from Captain Marvel, which came out 12 movies ago, is that there was some bad fallout from Carol’s decision to destroy the Kree’s Supreme Intelligence at the end of that film.
That’s a huge amount of context to simply strip from the story, and in order for that to work, it has to be both really impressive on a filmmaking level and also show something other than more Marvel stuff. And credit where it’s due: For a large stretch of this movie, director Nia DaCosta and co. managed to accomplish both of those things. But while The Marvels works as a dope and fun action movie, those are fleeting pleasures. For a movie that, at a mere 105 minutes, has clearly been stripped of its connective tissue and its substance, being fun can’t sustain it.