Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 review: An immensely satisfying send off to James Gunn’s heroes

It’s all about goodbyes in Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol 3. One of the most distinctive voices within the MCU, James Gunn gives us a third instalment that is in every way the conclusion of his journey with these characters. The sense of farewell looms large over the movie. Not only in its mood and tone, but also through the numerous nods, winks, cameos, and callbacks to the previous two movies. Almost like a homage to and celebration of Gunn’s Guardians franchise, it is a grand, fitting farewell. Gunn does it again (or does it one last time I should say, considering he’s now off to run a rival studio), delivering an immensely satisfying send-off to everyone’s favourite bunch of jackasses standing in a circle. (Also read: James Gunn slams racist remark on Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 villain casting: ‘Stop with your racist presumptions’)

The Guardians now live on Knowhere – the giant planet made of a dead God’s head which we were first introduced to in Volume 1. And the group sort of runs the place as leaders of a small community. The gang’s all there – Rocket (Bradley Cooper, whose voice work continues to be the gift that keeps on giving), Peter Quill (Chris Pratt), a now-jacked Groot (who looks more and more like Vin Diesel, who voices him, with every film), Drax (the gravely under-discussed Dave Bautista) and Mantis (Pom Klementieff). Not to mention the newest official member of the team, (and low-key MVP of this movie) Nebula (Karen Gillian). There’s also Kraglin (Sean Gunn) who joined the band after Yondu’s death in the last movie, as well as telekinetic Russian space dog Cosmo (another shining testament to the utmost sincerity with which Gunn approaches objectively wacky, out-there characters).

Quill spends his days getting drunk, still pining over Gamora (Zoe Saldana), who died in Avengers: Infinity War. The version of her that came back in Avengers: Endgame, remember, was a Gamora from the past, one who’d never met the Guardians. She has no memory of Quill’s love and their time together. But Vol 3 is first and foremost a Rocket origin story. Rocket’s been hurt. Badly. In the opening moments of the film, he’s seriously wounded and hasn’t got much time left. But the gang can’t heal him because he has some sort of inbuilt failsafe that doesn’t allow him to be operated on. To save him, the gang must track down Rocket’s creator – the main villain of this movie – a mad scientist called the High Evolutionary (a suitably unhinged Chukwudi Iwuji) who dreams of creating the perfect species. For real though – why does every member of the Guardians have a messed up, horrid father-person? Barring Drax and Groot, none of these folks seemed to have lucked out in the dad department.

But it’s hardly surprising. Pain has always loomed large over the Guardians movies. That’s been the essence of Gunn’s take on these characters from the very beginning – a ragtag group of tragic figures who mask their pain with bumbling buffoonery. And neither of the previous movies make you feel that hurt quite like this one. Making Rocket the emotional core of Vol 3 is an inspired move. Not just because he’s always been my favourite character, but also because the various flashbacks that recount his harrowing story are the film’s most potent scenes, allowing Vol 3 to pack an emotional wallop and go to surprisingly dark territory. In one flashback scene, we see a young, meek Rocket, who’s been freshly operated on, collapse in pain next to his fellow lab rats. They ask him how he is and he merely lets out a whimper and a single word – “hurts”. I almost teared up. (Sidenote, whichever VFX artist or artists are responsible for working on Baby Rocket’s eyes deserve a raise and a hug).

With this third chapter, Gunn cements the many achievements of the Guardians movies. That this trilogy is one of the MCU’s most distinct and consistently delightful (Vol 2 being the shakiest of the three, but fun nonetheless). That the triumph of Vol 3 arrives as Marvel movies continues to experience severe creative burnout. But above all, that Gunn is one of the few filmmakers who’s managed to (and been permitted to) use the Marvel machinery in service of actual creativity and imagination, rather than yet another generic, middling blur of quip, kicks and VFX.

Gunn once again brings his brand of wonderfully weird, wacky, goofy and zany (which is what I imagine the dwarves would have been called if James Gunn made Snow White) into the superhero template. The hilarious, badly-timed banter during life-threatening situations, sneaking in those unexpected, quiet moments of heart and profundity. There’s a scene in Vol 3, for example, where, amidst massive explosions and chaos in every direction, Rocket stares at a bunch of trapped animal test subjects in cages – just like he once was. For a few moments, in the midst of all the action, fighting, and plot demands, it felt like time stood still. My feelings had feelings.

Similarly, I love the goofiness Gunn continues to bring to space travel and strange new worlds. In an early scene we see the Guardians travel to a space station made of living tissue – where the very surface is all squidgy and fleshy and adorably disgusting. You also can’t help but salute the director’s unwavering dedication to the silliest, most specific recurring gags. Here we get bits like Cosmo demanding to be called a good dog, or a security officer who can’t stop talking about how bafflingly stupid his second in-command his. They sound silly because they are, but they get you every damn time.

In the interest of nitpicking, there are times here when the movie’s delicate sometimes-solemn-sometimes-silly balancing act is less than smooth. Moments where tragedy is sandwiched by comedy, without letting us feel the full weight of a sequence. It’s not particularly jarring as much as it is jumpy. Not to mention moments of characters explaining who they are to us. The High Evolutionary certainly gets one too many of those as does Mantis in a showdown she has with Nebula which doesn’t quite feel earnt.

It’s also no surprise that Vol 3, like every MCU movie anywhere ever, ends with a grand, high-stakes action blowout. It’s been the Marvel problem for a few years now – that even the most encouraging storytelling in recent years (WandaVision, Wakanda Forever) must be reduced to a generic-last-leg-CGI-showdown which makes you feel very little. But in this movie, it works because Gunn is able to bring genuine ingenuity to it. The final battle is bursting with attitude – watch out for some glorious slow-mo entry shots and an insanely fun one-take fight scene. Even the fodder they’re fighting aren’t nondescript CGI blobs, but deformed animal experiments that help make this more than just empty punching, kicking and blasting.

As James Gunn concludes his journey with these characters he clearly cares so deeply about, you can’t help but reflect on your own. Walking out, I had my own little flashback montage playing in my head of all the adventures we’ve been on and foes we’ve faced with this lovable group of galaxy-saving idiots. The Guardians standing together aboard a ship that’s plummeting to its doom, before Groot engulfs them all to protect his new friends, saying the words “We are Groot”. Rocket stealing various appendages. Kicking off the most unlikely dance-off to distract a big villain. Mantis publicly revealing how Peter feels about Gamora. Baby Groot being Baby Groot.

It’s been a journey. And right now we find ourselves at a unique moment in time when this chapter has come to a close and the Marvel machine hasn’t kicked into gear to announce nine new faces, four reboots, and three Guardian spin-off shows to dilute the franchise. For this brief period, however long it may last, James Gunn has once again managed to cut through the Marvel machinery and give us something we rarely get from this universe – the sense of an ending.