Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 ★★☆☆☆

They say all good things must come to an end. Well, in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, it feels like this misfit crew should have turned off the lights about 45 minutes earlier. James Gunn’s swan song to the franchise aims for poignant, but somewhere in the chaos, it crashes into its own emotional overload.

The plot revolves around saving Rocket, who’s critically injured and can only be healed if the Guardians can hack into a kill switch implanted in him during his tortured origins. Along the way, they face off against the unhinged High Evolutionary—who seems to have wandered in from a twisted sci-fi version of a PETA nightmare—and Adam Warlock, a would-be threat that mostly comes off like a lost kid with superpowers. Throw in some recycled humor, a few gut-punching flashbacks, and voilà, you’ve got yourself an overly long rescue mission sprinkled with half-hearted attempts at closure.

Vol. 3 wants to be deep, really deep. Themes of family, trauma, and the burden of creation loom large, with Rocket’s tragic backstory serving as the emotional spine of the movie. There’s an almost Frankenstein-like arc between Rocket and the High Evolutionary, playing on ideas of god complexes and failed creations. But after the umpteenth slow-motion scene of Rocket staring tearfully into space, it starts to feel more like emotional manipulation than meaningful storytelling. Sure, the themes are there—family, redemption, the cost of freedom—but it’s like trying to make a soufflé out of a superhero flick: a noble effort, but the result is mostly a lot of hot air.

James Gunn is at his best when he’s allowed to be weird, and Vol. 3 certainly delivers on that front. The grotesque, gooey world of the High Evolutionary’s lab and Rocket’s nightmarish flashbacks are where Gunn’s unique visual flair shines through. It’s Cronenberg-lite with a dash of Island of Dr. Moreau aesthetics. However, it’s also weighed down by CGI-heavy action scenes that lack the tactile charm of the Guardians’ earlier outings. Despite the creative creature designs, too much of the film falls back on the predictable, flashy Marvel formula.

This is Rocket’s movie through and through, and Bradley Cooper’s voice work does all the heavy lifting. The Guardians themselves feel like they’re going through the motions: Chris Pratt’s Peter Quill spends most of the film in a self-pitying stupor, while Gamora (Zoe Saldaña) is…well, not Gamora, a constant reminder that time travel tropes often rob characters of emotional depth. The rest of the ensemble gets their moments, but none of them truly stand out—except, perhaps, for Dave Bautista’s Drax, who remains blissfully immune to character development, bless his literal heart. Adam Warlock (Will Poulter), meanwhile, feels more like a plot device than a character, showing up to stir trouble or help out as the script sees fit.

At 2.5 hours, this movie feels like a marathon you didn’t sign up for. The pacing is uneven, with the first half dragging its feet through Rocket’s origin story while the second half stumbles through a barrage of explosions, slow-mo standoffs, and forced emotional crescendos. You’ll know exactly where it’s going, but boy, does it take its time getting there.

Watching Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 felt like scrolling through an old friend’s Facebook feed: a few touching memories, but mostly reminders that we’ve both changed, and maybe it’s time to move on. The movie plays heavily on nostalgia, trying to make us cry for the gang’s final ride, but instead, I found myself checking my watch during the fifth teary-eyed monologue.

Fans of Rocket Raccoon will likely appreciate his expanded backstory and the emotional beats tied to his character. However, if you’re expecting the zany, upbeat charm of the earlier installments, you might leave the theater feeling as though you’ve attended a wake rather than a celebration. Sure, the Guardians dance one last time, but even that feels more like an afterthought than a rousing conclusion. This finale overstays its welcome and under-delivers on its potential. It’s an end—just not a particularly satisfying one.