Men in Black: International is a glossy and hollow expansion of the franchise, a picture that takes the considerable assets of its new cast and squanders them on a narrative of such limited invention and such mechanical construction that the entertainment value depends almost entirely on the charm of its leads rather than on anything the screenplay provides them with to do. F. Gary Gray's 2019 film is not without its pleasures: Tessa Thompson and Chris Hemsworth have a comic chemistry, the franchise's world is expanded with enough visual imagination to give the picture a sense of scale, and the production design is the series' most consistently impressive. But it is a film that demonstrates, with considerable clarity, the difference between a franchise's aesthetic and its creative intelligence.
At a Glance
Director: F. Gary Gray
Runtime: 115 minutes
Starring: Tessa Thompson, Chris Hemsworth, Liam Neeson, Emma Thompson, Rebecca Ferguson
Release: 2019
Critics Rating: ★★ (2/5 stars, a glossy but hollow expansion)
Audience Rating: ★★½ (2.5/5 stars, watchable for its leads' chemistry but forgettable)
Review Breakdown
Plot
Molly Wright, a young woman who has spent her life searching for the MIB after a childhood encounter with an alien, is recruited as Agent M and assigned to the London branch, where she is partnered with the celebrated but increasingly unreliable Agent H. Their investigation into a mole within the MIB leads them across Europe and North Africa in pursuit of a shape-shifting alien weapon. The screenplay by Matt Holloway and Art Marcum is the franchise's most narratively predictable, following a conspiracy thriller structure whose central revelation is apparent to the attentive viewer well before the third act, and whose action sequences are staged with a competence that the franchise's established standards require without achieving the comic precision that distinguished the original's most effective passages. The mole subplot is the screenplay's most significant structural liability: a conspiracy narrative requires its central mystery to be genuinely surprising, and the revelation here is so telegraphed that the picture's final act arrives without the dramatic payoff that the preceding investigation was designed to build toward. The decision to set the picture primarily in London and Marrakech gives it a geographic range that the franchise had not previously attempted, but the screenplay does not use these settings with the specificity that Sonnenfeld brought to New York, and the result is a picture that feels international in its production design without feeling grounded in any particular place.
Characters
Thompson's Agent M is the most effectively drawn new character, a protagonist of intelligence and determination whose lifelong obsession with the MIB gives her a motivation that the franchise's previous human recruits have not always provided. Thompson brings a warmth and a wit to the role that the screenplay does not always deserve, and her performance gives the picture its most consistently engaging element. Hemsworth's Agent H is the most underserved character, a celebrated agent whose established reputation is undermined by a recent loss of confidence that the screenplay introduces but does not develop with sufficient depth to give his arc weight. The chemistry between Thompson and Hemsworth is the most reliable asset, and their scenes together have a comic energy that the franchise's established double act tradition requires even when the material they are given falls short of the original's standard. Liam Neeson's High T is the most one-dimensional authority figure, a MIB branch director whose function in the narrative is more mechanical than credible. Rebecca Ferguson's Riza is the most enjoyably eccentric supporting addition, a three-armed alien arms dealer whose scenes with Thompson and Hemsworth are the most purely entertaining passages, and whose brief presence in the picture raises the question of why the screenplay did not find more for her to do. Kumail Nanjiani's Pawny is the most divisive supporting addition, a miniature alien warrior whose comic register suits some sequences better than others.
Tone
Gray pitches the picture at a register of glossy international action comedy rather than the original's New York-grounded deadpan absurdism, a tonal shift that gives it a visual scale and a geographic range that the franchise had not previously attempted but that also removes the specificity of setting that gave the original its most effective comic passages. The European and North African locations are used with enough visual imagination to give the franchise's world a sense of global scope, but the comedy generated by these settings lacks the precision and the wit of the original's New York sequences. The tonal register is the picture's most consistent quality, and Gray maintains it across the narrative's various locations with enough discipline to prevent the picture from becoming incoherent, even if it never achieves the comic sharpness that the franchise's best entry demonstrated.
Meaning / Themes
The central concern is the relationship between institutional loyalty and individual integrity, a theme that the MIB mole subplot gives a specific context but that the screenplay does not develop with sufficient consistency to give it force. The suggestion that the MIB's institutional culture can be corrupted from within is a potentially interesting extension of the franchise's established concerns, but the resolution is handled with a speed and a simplicity that prevents it from generating the weight that the original's more carefully constructed narrative achieved. The picture's most pointed missed opportunity is its failure to use M's outsider perspective, as a woman who has spent her life seeking an institution that did not know she existed, as a basis for a more searching examination of what the MIB represents and who it serves.
Direction
Gray's direction is the franchise's most visually polished, giving the picture a glossy international aesthetic that suits the expanded geographic scope without achieving the tonal consistency that Sonnenfeld's direction gave the original trilogy. His handling of the action sequences is competent and occasionally inventive, but the most effective passages are those involving Thompson and Hemsworth's comic interactions rather than the set-pieces that the franchise's commercial expectations require. Chris Bacon's score maintains the franchise's musical identity with a more contemporary register that suits the glossier aesthetic without achieving the distinctive quality of Elfman's original work.
Cultural Reception
Men in Black: International received poor reviews on its release and was a commercial disappointment, grossing approximately $253 million worldwide against a production budget of $110 million. Critics condemned the predictable screenplay, the waste of its leads' potential, and the failure to justify its existence as a franchise expansion, and it is now regarded as the series' most significant creative and commercial failure. Its underperformance effectively ended plans for a new MIB trilogy and prompted a reassessment of the franchise's future direction.
Who Should Watch
Fans of Thompson and Hemsworth who want to see their comic chemistry in a science fiction context, and franchise followers who are curious about the MIB's global operations. Men in Black: International delivers its entertainment through the charm of its leads rather than through the quality of its screenplay, and those who approach it with appropriately modest narrative expectations will find it a more pleasant experience than its critical reception might suggest.
Final Verdict: A glossy and hollow expansion that squanders its new cast's considerable potential on a narrative of limited invention and mechanical construction. Thompson and Hemsworth's chemistry is the most reliable asset and the primary reason the picture is not entirely without entertainment value, and the franchise's world is expanded with enough visual imagination to give it a sense of scale. Everything else is a reminder that the MIB franchise's creative intelligence was always more important than its aesthetic, and that a picture which prioritises the latter at the expense of the former has less to offer than its production values suggest.
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