Ugh, here we go again

Calling “Fantastic Four: First Steps” the best “Fantastic Four” movie so far is not exactly a quote I’d advise Disney to slap on the poster.

Talk about grading on a curve. The last three pathetic attempts to put the story of Mister Fantastic, the Invisible Woman, the Human Torch and the Thing onscreen have made miserable viewers go, “Global annihilation? Sounds nice.”

Not to be deterred, the Marvel Cinematic Universe is dragging the raggedy group out of storage for their 37th movie. That figure is unfortunately not a typo.

The result? “First Steps” marks a slight improvement from the preceding trilogy of terror. But Marvel still can’t nail what should be one of its premiere attractions. 

“Fantastic Four”? Forgettable, 1 ½.

The movie begins, appropriately, with a pep in its step. 

Dropping the heroes in the retro-futuristic NYC that appears to be a technologically advanced 1960s is the right call by director Matt Shakman and his army of screenwriters. There’s “Jetsons” visual panache that sets the film apart from the other, oy, 36. The team’s New York lair could be the TWA Hotel at JFK. 

Also, gold star for racing through the exposition in a newsreel at the beginning — four years ago some astronauts got neat powers in space, yada yada — to avoid the usual origin story portentousness.

However, trembling in fear, “First Steps,” can’t resist the comic-book urge to contort the mood ASAP to grave, gloomy and un-fun for most of the runtime.

The stakes may be stratospherically high, but our serotonin levels are low, low, low.

For the supes, Marvel has recruited some super serious actors.

There’s Pedro Pascal, who has probably been frowning so much because he’s overworked, as stretchy Reed Richards; Vanessa Kirby, making Medea seem like the life of the party, as vanishing Sue Storm; Joseph Quinn, nervously tip-toeing around genuine comedy, as flaming Johnny Storm; and Ebon Moss-Bachrach with a Zen take on rocky Ben Grimm.   

They’re all fine, if oddly joyless for people wearing powder-blue “Star Trek” uniforms. I can’t say I ever want to see them play these parts again. Good thing they’ve been cast in at least two more MCU films through 2027.

The Four face a couple foes. There’s the humongous Galactus, who is essentially Megatron from “Transformers.” And his shiny cowabunga hench-woman, the Silver Surfer, played by Julia Garner. 

Whose dumb idea was it to cast Garner, one of the most expressive and electric actors working today, as a slab of metal that speaks in monotone?

Fee-fi-ho-hum Galactus is going to gobble up the world. But he offers the Four another option: He’ll slow his roll if Reed and Sue hand over their new baby.

The doting parents aren’t on board with that plan. So, in a scene that lasts — I kid you not — two minutes, they try and fail to teleport the Earth to another part of the universe.

In the end, Galactus goes Godzilla and stomps around Manhattan crushing skyscrapers.

The Thing, a dude made of rocks, is the closest the movie comes to a fleshed-out person. And only because he cooks pasta and flirts with Natasha Lyonne twice. 

I’ll give “First Steps” this: It doesn’t tie itself in knots making tedious connections to the rest of the MCU. The story is relatively simple, if poorly paced, and the neat aesthetic imagines what an Apple Store would look like during the Kennedy Administration. 

But that’s just not enough to prevent Shakman from joining the sorry ranks of filmmakers who couldn’t wrap their heads around what the tone of the Fantastic Four should be. 

Are they funny? Are they grounded? Are they deep? The film is so unbalanced, one wonders if the director and writers donned a blindfold and threw a dart.

How dramatic and depressing can a character named Mister Fantastic possibly be?

Just you wait.

During the climactic battle scene, Galactus torturously stretches Mister Fantastic nearly beyond his limits as Pascal wails an excruciating cry worthy of “One Life to Live.”

I, on the other hand, let out a big laugh.