Clash of the Thundermans (2026) Review: Uneven Reunion

The setup is pure comic-book soap opera. Chloe Thunderman (Maya Le Clark), now a tween, develops a volatile new power - something akin to unstable energy projection - that she cannot control. After a mishap that nearly levels the family living room, the global oversight body known as the Hero League steps in. Their solution? Ship Chloe off to a remote boarding school for "gifted" youths, a facility designed to contain and train her for years.

The narrative splits the family down the middle. On one side, a protective Phoebe (Kira Kosarin), maternal Barb (Rosa Blasi), and dim-witted but loyal Billy (Diego Velazquez) decide to defy the League, grabbing Chloe and fleeing to a remote hideout. On the other, a by-the-book Max (Jack Griffo), a conflicted Hank (Chris Tallman), and an eager-beaver Nora (Addison Riecke) are tasked with tracking them down. The resulting chase leads to an inevitable, messy confrontation where sibling rivalry meets parental duty. The script throws in President Kickbutt (Daniele Gaither) as a bureaucratic antagonist, but her menace is about as threatening as a parking ticket.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: the cast’s massive age gap with their characters. Kosarin and Griffo, now in their late twenties and early thirties, are still playing high-school-adjacent heroes, and the suspension of disbelief is thinner than Billy’s IQ. Yet, there’s an undeniable comfort in seeing these actors slip back into their roles. Kosarin carries the dramatic weight with the weary professionalism of a sitcom veteran, while Griffo chews scenery with a snarky bravado that almost saves the film’s second act. Their scenes together, a contentious phone call that devolves into a shouting match, crackle with the energy the rest of the movie lacks.

Director Kirschner seems torn between making a poignant film about family separation and a goofy action-comedy. The film’s best moments are the quiet ones: a scene where Barb explains to Chloe that being terrified of yourself is part of growing up, or Hank sitting alone staring at a family photo, his usual buffoonery momentarily replaced by a father’s raw worry. These beats work because the actors commit fully, selling the script’s sudden emotional pivots with a sincerity that feels earned.

Unfortunately, the comedy is often stale. The physical gags are over-explained, with jokes lingering on screen long after they’ve stopped being funny. Villains are cartoonishly inept, and the action sequences are... cheap. The superpowered battles look less like a clash of titans and more like a mid-2000s video game cutscene, with blurry energy blasts and floaty wire-fu choreography. The film gets a pass on the "TV Movie" aesthetic, but there’s a difference between scrappy charm and lazy execution.

The movie’s real problem is structure. The "rogue family vs. loyalists" premise teases a high-consequence conflict, but the script constantly undermines it. Every time the stakes threaten to get real, the characters break for a silly montage or a quippy one-liner. The "battle for the family's future" boils down to a few tussles in a forest clearing and a lot of shouting. It’s a shame, because the emotional core - the fear of a parent sending a child away, the guilt of a superpowered sibling - is genuinely compelling. The film just doesn’t trust its audience enough to sit with those feelings for more than a minute without defusing the tension.

Pros:

• Nostalgic chemistry between the core cast, particularly Kosarin and Griffo.
• Rosa Blasi and Chris Tallman deliver genuinely touching dramatic moments.
• A surprisingly effective thematic look at parental fear and sibling loyalty.
• Fast-paced enough to never feel like a chore despite the thin plot.

Cons:

• Sub-par visual effects that undermine the "action" label.
• Jarring tonal shifts between pathos and juvenile slapstick.
• Maya Le Clark’s character arc feels rushed and underserved; she’s more a MacGuffin than a person.
• A repetitive structure where the two factions argue and run away from each other multiple times.
• President Kickbutt is a forgettable, mustache-twirling villain.

Clash of the Thundermans is a cinematic oxymoron: a safe bet that tries to be a family crisis, and a nostalgic trip that’s afraid of its own shadows. It’s undeniably strange to see these characters grapple with real-world pain like parental separation and state-sanctioned control, then immediately undercut it with a burp joke. The film works best as a love letter to the fanbase who grew up with the series, rewarding them with callbacks and brief character grace notes. But for anyone else, the thin narrative and bargain-basement production values will make it feel like a pilot for a show that never needed to exist.

The 4/10 on TMDb feels harsh for a film with this much heart from its leads, while the 7.6 on IMDb seems overly generous for a production that so severely limits its own ambition. The truth sits in the middle. It’s a harmless, occasionally moving flashback to a simpler era of superhero storytelling - one where the biggest threat is a curfew, not an infinity gauntlet. For the devoted, it’s a fine time killer. For the uninitiated, it’s a gentle nod to resume scrolling. The Thundermans have had better days, but they’ve also had worse. That about sums it up.