Although I tend to avoid discovering too much about how a film is faring critically before I see it, with Fantastic Four, I was picking up a sour smell on the wind long before I entered the multiplex. One critic I overheard on the radio referred to it as “a vile disease.” Another critic (Maurice Broaddus, who had seen an advance screening) sent me an e-mail saying, “Lower your expectations.” These initial responses, coupled with my suspicion of any film produced by Ralph Winter, caused me to seriously question whether I should even bother seeing the film. But I was really looking forward to watching a movie that night, and I had already made plans with friends, so off I went.

I think it was about thirty minutes into the screening when I turned to my friend and said, “You know, this really isn’t all that bad.” Don’t take my comment the wrong way: Fantastic Four wasn’t all that good, either, but it certainly wasn’t a vile disease. Perhaps Maurice’s warning had the desired effect: I walked into the theater with my expectations around my ankles, but I could probably have worn them at least knee-high.

As the film progressed, however, I realized my expectations weren’t just riding low; I may have actually put on the wrong pair. Still smoldering in the afterglow of a genre-defining film like Batman Begins, I, like most critics, had expected Fantastic Four to follow in the Caped Crusader’s footsteps by offering us a gritty, sophisticated story that was more concerned with exploring deep, philosophical issues than portraying fisticuffs and budget-busting CGI shots. In short, I expected a comic book film for adults. Fantastic Four didn’t seem to be going in that direction at all though. Where Batman Begins was gritty, Fantastic Four was goofy. Unlike Bruce Wayne, Dr. Reed Richards and co. weren’t at all interested in pondering deep, philosophical issues. They didn’t even seem too concerned with fighting evil, for that matter. They spent most of their time fighting each other. And the filmmakers never once shied away from throwing in a cool CGI effect, just for the fun of it. It took a while, but I finally came to see that Fantastic Four wasn’t a comic book film for adults after all. It was a comic book film for kids. (Imagine that!) Once I was able to make this paradigm shift, suddenly, the movie didn’t seem all that bad.

Before any Fantastic Four purists jump all over me, let me say this: I feel your pain. I’ve never really been into the Fantastic Four, but if Batman had received the same sort of cinematic treatment as Ben Grimm and the gang, I would have been hopping mad. This film isn’t exactly a mockery of Marvel Comics’ flagship title, but it’s only one or two notches above camp. The acting is way over the top, the characters are painted with bold, bright colors, the script is overly didactic, and the entire production is about as subtle as Al Qaeda when making a point. (I'm thinking in particular about the wedding ring on the bridge scene here.) But what else would you expect from a movie for kids? Sure, I was hoping as much as anyone else that Fantastic Four would deliver two more hours of sophisticated fanboy bliss. But post-pubescent males with too much time and money on their hands aren’t the only target market in the world (although we are a very lucrative market, Mr. Winter). Kids need their share of summer viewing fun, too. And, as one of my companions said, “If I think about this movie from my six-year-old son’s point of view, he would absolutely love it.” I’m sorry, die-hard fans, but this movie just wasn’t made for you.

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